Winter
Gilbert’s Point of View
“This is bad. At this rate, the civil officials will start dropping dead from overwork.”
The season had turned to winter, and snow was falling outside the window. Normally, the citizens would spend this time of year quietly—normally being the key word. Right now, even with snow blanketing the capital, development projects continued.
Of course, only tasks that could be done despite the snow were being carried out, and no one was being forced to work beyond reason.
However, the royal palace had become a living hell of busyness.
The civil officials in particular had dark circles under their eyes—or rather, deathly expressions—and continued working with blank faces.
“Your Highness, real work begins after you collapse from exhaustion,” declared Prime Minister Volken, whose skin somehow looked oddly glossy.
The civil officials standing nearby were too far gone to even react to what was effectively a death sentence.
The cause of all this chaos was the flood of technological innovations brought by Alicetia—and the sudden influx of funding for rebuilding the kingdom.
Just drafting the mountain of new laws required for those technologies was enough to make the officials scream. Alicetia had the advantage of her past life—she’d been close with her father’s lawyer friend—so she already had a base of legal frameworks prepared for new technologies. They only needed to be adjusted to Arland’s system. Even so, the screaming never stopped.
And it only got worse once the funding started to flow.
In addition to reviving stalled economic policies, Alicetia personally gathered merchants and craftsmen she knew, forming the Viceroy Merchant Union, which began mass-producing magic tools.
Performing industrial-scale production of magic tools—something no other nation could manage—was a feat Alicetia achieved without batting an eye.
And those tools were not only cheap, but too high in performance.
Their mana efficiency easily surpassed that of the so-called “Magic Kingdom,” which had dominated the market with its overpriced devices. Alicetia’s products were one-tenth the price and far more effective.
They sold incredibly well. Too well.
The allied nations that had been gouged by the Magic Kingdom now scrambled to buy Alicetia-made goods. Demand quickly outpaced supply.
Alicetia’s response was simple: she ordered factories to be built all across the kingdom. At the same time, she dumped the entire matter of handling industrial rights and distribution on Gilbert.
From her perspective, as long as the factories were built within the kingdom, it didn’t matter where. Her goal was to boost employment and revive the dying economy. The specifics were Gilbert’s problem. (Well, Ponpoko decided a few sites too.)
This naturally strengthened royal authority—something Gilbert had accepted a bit too easily.
Now he regretted it.
“Aris definitely knew this would be a nightmare and dumped it on me on purpose.”
“Well, that would be the most reasonable conclusion.”
Building factories was easy to say, hard to do.
You needed to build housing for the workers, supply them with daily necessities, and support a community—not just put up a building and profit.
And because new factories meant higher tax revenue, local lords began circling like vultures.
Every day, nobles came begging Gilbert to build factories in their domains. They didn’t go to Alicetia herself—she was famously reclusive in high society—and because Gilbert now held the industrial rights.
Alicetia had dangled the lure of centralized royal authority before him, using it to hide the massive hassle behind the bait. And Gilbert had taken it.
“We need more people. Immediately. Lots of them,” Gilbert muttered wearily.
“We’re recruiting already, and the numbers are going up,” Volken replied. “But it’ll take time before they’re useful. Don’t worry, though—we won’t let any escape.”
“Keep it reasonable,” Gilbert sighed.
If Volken went too far, the newly hired “sacrificial lambs” would either burn out or flee in terror.
The balance was delicate—keep them alive, but not too alive. Gilbert, sensing this crisis, had ordered the creation of an official training manual for civil officials.
Without efficient, systematic education, the shortage would never end. The brightest minds in the kingdom were now working together to complete that manual.
“What a headache… Not long ago, we were complaining about being broke. Turns out having money causes just as many problems.
By the way, where’s my dear little sister? I need her to help me with paperwork. Also, go capture Father and drag him to the—ah—detention office.”
The office was so full of documents that there was barely any floor space left. Officials constantly brought in new stacks as tall as themselves, dumping them wherever they could. Even with both Gilbert and Volken working at full capacity, the paperwork only continued to pile up.
There was no way two people could handle it all.
Draconia had already smashed a window and escaped, though the palace was sealed by a barrier, so he’d be caught soon enough. The king’s habitual escapes had become a palace pastime, knightly exercise, and spectator sport all in one.
Still, Alicetia—renowned for her speed and precision in paperwork—had yet to appear.
The knights would’ve dragged Draconia back in chains without hesitation, but doing that to the young princess? Impossible. It’d look like a crime.
One of the knights sent to fetch her returned alone.
“What happened?”
“Her Highness has gone into hibernation, sir. She likely won’t leave her room until spring.”
“What!? But she stayed active last winter!”
Alicetia was extremely weak to the cold. Painfully so.
During winter, her energy plummeted, and she shut herself in her room.
In theory, the cold shouldn’t have affected her—she was contracted with a fire spirit, after all. But when snow fell, she simply felt like staying indoors.
No one had imagined she’d go as far as to hibernate, especially since the palace had magical heating installed.
“But, sir, she’s put up a sign on her door that says, ‘I’m not working until spring,’ and replaced her door with one made of Dark Matter Alloy. She’s completely fortified herself.”
In other nations, even a fist-sized lump of Dark Matter Alloy would be considered a national treasure. Alicetia used it for her door.
Anyone from abroad would’ve lost their mind. (Though in Arland, it was already mass-produced—and nowhere else could even process the stuff.)
“… Fine. I’ll try to talk to her myself. Volken, you handle things here.”
“As you wish.”
Somehow, Volken’s paperwork speed increased even further. Gilbert shuddered—he hadn’t thought that was possible.
He made his way to Alicetia’s room.
When he rang the intercom, the door opened normally. Apparently, Gilbert’s visits were permitted. If it had been the Madame, she’d have been blasted by a mana cannon.
“Alice!”
“Mnnaa~?”
Her room had changed drastically. Shoes off at the entrance. A kotatsu in the middle. Sylvia sat beneath it, eating mandarin oranges imported from the Land of Tranquility.
Alicetia sat with Liliana asleep on her lap, wearing black gloves, and manipulating a floating, black armored arm in front of her—the arm moved in perfect sync with her gloved hand.
In the corner of the room stood a pitch-black full suit of armor—missing both arms—and a heap of naked swords piled carelessly nearby.
“Please, just a little bit—help me with the paperwork!”
“Nooo~” Alicetia replied lazily, still stroking Liliana’s head while rotating the armored arm experimentally.
Gilbert sighed. When Alicetia didn’t want to work, she was immovable. Resistance was futile.
“… Fine, then I’ll rest for a bit too. Scoot over—I’m joining the kotatsu.”
But when he lifted the blanket, it was full of cats.
“I’ve got guests over, so the kotatsu’s full,” Alicetia said.
“Would’ve been nice to know before I tried,” Gilbert grumbled, pulling his foot back as several furry paws smacked at him from under the blanket. The cats then tugged the blanket closed again.
The kotatsu cats, it seemed, were from the royal capital—they’d come to Alicetia’s room to escape the cold.
Gilbert gave up and sat beside her instead.
“So… what’re you building this time?”
“A magic armor.”
Magic armor—an enchanted suit of protection. But Alicetia’s version was closer to a powered exosuit packed with magical devices—a relic of ancient civilization reborn.
“Is that the one you gave to the Sheffield girl?”
“That was a prototype. This one’s a melee-focused model, the Black Knight. Anon’s was a general-purpose model designed for modular parts.”
Gilbert smiled inwardly—a schemer’s smile hidden beneath a princely expression.
“Oh-ho? So the prototype, then, was inferior? Meaning this Black Knight is the superior one?”
“Mmgh!” Alicetia puffed her cheeks.
“It was a prototype, wasn’t it? Then the finished model must be better?”
“No! They’re different! The concepts are totally separate! That one cost way too much to produce—if we mass-produced it, Arland would go bankrupt. That’s why I shelved it. Overall, the Black Knight’s performance is higher, sure, but…”
And just like that, Alicetia walked straight into his trap.
“Oh? And what exactly makes it superior?”
“Hehehe, listen and be amazed! Anon’s ‘Prototype Magic Armor’—she thinks activating Valkyrie Mode unlocks its true power, but that’s just the armor’s basic start-up mode!
In reality, it’s designed to summon and equip ten external enhancement modules, allowing for a wide variety of combat styles!
Among them are things like a Portable Anti-Ship Railgun for Infantry, loaded with a tactical-class magic shell imbued with Grand Explosion, or a Wide-Area Plasma Cannon!
All those modules are stored in an interdimensional space linked to the armor for instant swapping! And its ultimate weapon—the Angel’s Trumpet—is… uh… haah!?
… Don’t know! I don’t know anything about that!”
Alicetia normally kept her secrets, but with family—or with Alicia or the Madame—she became a complete chatterbox, unable to resist showing off.
She had just blurted out one of the kingdom’s biggest secrets like it was nothing.
Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she tried very hard not to meet Gilbert’s eyes.
“You really are free-spirited, huh.”
“If I could just send Madame off to the countryside, I’d be completely free.”
“… Wait—you mean you’ve been holding yourself back? In that case, we definitely can’t let Madame be sent away.”
Gilbert felt like the word restraint had already flown far beyond the clouds, but he also knew that if Alicetia were freed from all shackles, she’d soar endlessly into chaos.
He decided, at the very least, Madame must never be removed—some kind of weight was necessary.
“Well then, we’ll talk about the rest later. For now, tell me about this Black Knight.”
“Heh, heh, it’s quite the masterpiece, you know.
First off, by using mass-produced Dark Matter Alloy, it’s lighter and stronger than the prototype.
Just that alone means it consumes less mana than Anon-chan’s armor.
Hers uses Alice Steel, which is so heavy she has to keep a ‘Lighten Weight’ spell permanently active.
But the true essence of the Black Knight lies in its overwhelming defense power!”
The Black Knight was a magic armor designed for close combat.
Its core concept was durability.
Alicetia had been wounded in pride during the Empire War.
To her, the Kingdom was a precious treasure she held within her own hands—and she obsessively cherished whatever she considered her possession.
By this point, Alicetia was no longer someone to be protected; she was the one doing the protecting.
But she had lost many soldiers.
Since returning to Arland, she rarely took walks through the royal palace anymore.
In the garden, the knights who used to do pull-ups on tree branches were gone.
Of the two knights who always guarded the royal quarters, only one remained.
No matter where she went, the people who should’ve been there… weren’t.
Alicetia realized she’d been wrong.
Until now, she’d prioritized economic recovery and strengthening national power above all else.
Because of that, weapon production had been given low priority.
She concluded that it was her fault so many soldiers had died.
As a result, Alicetia had still not lifted the wartime production system.
The royal treasury’s underground factories continued to churn out weapons.
She thought to herself: Arland’s knights hadn’t been weak.
Their numbers were small—nothing could be done about that.
But if she had truly gone all out, she could’ve given them better equipment.
More of them could have survived.
That belief pushed the Magic Armor Project—once so low-priority it was near the bottom of the list—up to one of the highest positions.
The Black Knight possessed absurdly excessive defensive power.
Its armor couldn’t be broken even by Helios’s fangs or claws.
It could swim unharmed through molten lava, and endure the pressure at 1,000 meters underwater.
It had been built with the assumption that it would have to fight Alicetia herself.
On top of that, it was equipped with magic tools throughout its frame, making it capable of flight—the newest model of magic armor.
Incidentally, Dark Matter Alloy had originally been developed as a countermeasure against spirits, making it highly incompatible with them.
For that reason, Alicetia created a new material—Light Matter Alloy—based on Dark Matter but with high affinity for spirits, and began simultaneous development of the White Knight.
Light Matter Alloy was weaker than Dark Matter Alloy in strength, but its harmony with spirit magic was far superior.
When worn by a contracted Spirit User, it would naturally amplify their spirit magic.
That said, the White Knight was even more finicky and unstable than the Black Knight.
“So overall, this one’s got the higher performance.”
“Hmm… and what’s the price tag?”
“About this much.”
When Alicetia calculated and told him the material cost, Gilbert was left speechless.
Dark Matter Alloy had abysmal efficiency for magic infusion—it required enormous mana, couldn’t be enchanted by magic devices due to output limits, and though once imbued with magic it gained absurd durability, even removing or breaking that enchantment was nearly impossible.
Because of this, currently only Alicetia could produce the Black Knight and White Knight.
Even Avon couldn’t replicate them.
“At this rate, the Finance Minister’s going to lose all his hair.”
“When that happens, I’ll just give him an Elixir of Life.”
“Stop thinking that medicine solves everything!”
“That’s what the Prime Minister always does. Don’t lecture me now!”
Incidentally, the Prime Minister’s usual method of “dealing with overwork” involved injecting Alicetia-made magic potions—labeled with a skull—into collapsed bureaucrats.
They were truly “wonderful potions” that made people feel cheerful and energetic.
Totally non-addictive.
Just… after a while, the bureaucrats’ eyes lost their light.
The Arland government was a smiling, happy workplace.
Everyone could work energetically and efficiently!
If you asked a bureaucrat, “Are you happy?” they’d probably grin and answer, “Heheh. Happiness is mandatory.”
At Alicetia’s words, Liliana stirred and rubbed her eyes adorably.
“Big brother, you were too loud—now Lily’s awake.”
“S-sorry. You’re not gonna cry, right?”
“Lily hardly ever cries.”
Liliana looked around curiously, then slid off Alicetia’s lap and started crawling toward a pile of unsheathed swords in the corner.
“Wait—that’s dangerous!”
“It’s fine.”
As Liliana neared the pile, a thin film of light appeared and gently bounced her back.
“Uu~ auu!”
Pouting, Liliana smacked the floor with her little hands, then charged the barrier again—only to be softly repelled once more.
“Ahh!”
She turned toward Alicetia, smacking the floor again as if to say, “Sis, give me one!”
“It’s too early for you, Lily.”
“Uuu… auu!”
Realizing she’d been refused, Liliana gathered mana into her tiny arms.
A gauntlet materialized around her hand, and with impossible power for a baby, she struck the barrier.
A thunderous crack filled the room—and the barrier shattered.
Liliana nodded in satisfaction, then crawled forward again… only to be stopped by another barrier and sent tumbling.
Now frowning, Liliana smacked the floor again in protest.
“With your current power, you can’t break my barrier.”
“Uu… zzz…”
Having exhausted her mana, Liliana promptly fell asleep.
“W-what was that just now…”
“That’s the bloodline magic War God, inherited from our great-grandmother. Looks like Lily can use it too.
Though for now, her mana’s too low—she burns out after a moment and falls asleep.”
“Mana depletion isn’t something to take lightly!”
Gilbert turned pale, recalling how Alicetia had almost died from mana exhaustion as a newborn—after casting a fireworks spell the very day she was born.
“She’s not using it enough to harm herself. Just enough to pass out.”
“So it’s not dangerous?”
“Nope. But at this rate, her mana capacity’s going to skyrocket as she grows.
Though aside from War God, she doesn’t seem to have talent for any other magic.”
Hearing that, Gilbert sighed in relief.
Of course, Alicetia was already planning to compensate for that lack of magical talent.
War God was a technique surpassing even magical armament.
But even that alone couldn’t ensure Liliana’s safety.
So Alicetia was secretly organizing an army of spirits—a Liliana Guard.
And as her little sister, Liliana had manifested a special mark known as The Spirit King’s Beloved Child—a sign of the Spirit King’s favor, granting her strong affinity with spirits.
Alicetia hadn’t given it intentionally, but it served as powerful protection, so she left it be.
Better that than being hated by spirits, like Takuto.
She had even begun selecting potential spirit partners for Liliana.
Though she couldn’t use ordinary magic, one day she would wield spirit magic.
“Well, I’m glad she’s not in danger—but seriously, stop keeping unsheathed swords in your room… wait. Isn’t that a bit much?”
Gilbert frowned at the mountain of exposed blades piled in the corner.
“Oh, that? They’re not weird or anything. Just holy swords.”
“Holy swords…? Wait a second! There are only about twenty holy weapons in existence! And some are destroyed, so there should be even fewer than that!
There are more than that many right in front of me!”
“I made them ♪”
Alicetia’s cheerful confession made Gilbert press his palms against his forehead.
A few seconds later, he exhaled deeply and looked at her with the resigned face of enlightenment.
“I see… you made them, huh.”
“Yup! I took the Holy Sword of Solidity—well, Holy Statue Moai now—and used it as the base to create the artificial holy sword Achilles. It’s the standard weapon for both the Black Knight and White Knight.”
The Holy Sword of Solidity, which had been transformed into a Moai statue by Alicetia and used to seal Takuto in the tower, had later been shattered by Sylvia’s Happiness.
However, its power wasn’t lost, and it had already been repaired.
Using it as a template, Alicetia had created new defensive-type holy swords.
Hearing that, Gilbert left the room looking utterly drained, deciding to just go to bed.
He didn’t want to think anymore.
He was now convinced that, in Alicetia’s dictionary, the word restraint must mean something completely different.
And so, as winter peacefully passed and the snow began to melt, Alicetia was at the Shishido Territory—inspecting a rocket.
During the winter, disposable laborers had been literally worked to death, but the rocket launch facility was now complete, and installation had begun.
In one of the rooms, Kazuhito was tied up with rope.
“Let me go!”
“Hey there, Kazuhito.”
Alicetia waved cheerfully.
Kazuhito’s instincts screamed that he needed to get out of there immediately.
“Don’t ‘hey there’ me! Why the hell am I tied up!?”
“You’re going to take part in a very honorable experiment.
Put on this Black Knight, and make a little trip through the atmosphere for me.”
“You gotta be kidding me! I’ll burn up!”
“My calculations say you’ll survive easily. Just make sure to point the shield downward. Without it, you’ll overheat before reentry’s done.”
“No way in hell!”
“You’re so stubborn.”
“I’m being reasonable!“
“The reward’s a hundred gold coins.”
“Hmm… still no!”
“Then two hundred.”
“...…”
Eventually, they settled at three hundred gold coins, and Kazuhito was all smiles.
“Sorry, Takuto. I’m gonna take a quick trip to space.”
“Sometimes I envy how carefree you are.”
Whether Iris or Alicetia, the tendency to make reckless mistakes was the same—they were, after all, originally the same person.
Despite how many times Takuto and Kazuhito had suffered because of it, Kazuhito was once again easily swayed by money.
As the day of the rocket launch drew near and final adjustments were underway, a visitor arrived in Arland—and Alicetia was summoned back to the castle.
“Ugh, and it was just getting to the fun part.”
“Please put on your dress!”
“No way. I prefer a military uniform—it’s easier to move in.”
Alicetia resisted, but Alicia silently opened the dressing room door.
Inside stood Madame Smith.
Moments later, Alicetia was forcibly transformed—visually, at least—into a magnificent princess, and entered the audience chamber.
There, Arland witnessed a true display of kowtow diplomacy.
The envoy had arrived from the Wano Country via teleportation.
The man, dressed in white robes, knelt deeply on the floor, his expression full of resolve.
“Please… hand over Lady Alicia and her family to our nation.”
The moment those words were spoken, a loud crack echoed through the room—something had shattered.
What do you think about this chapter?
