Chicken Meatball and Jumbo Leek Soup

“I think it needs just a little bit more time.”

“All right.”

Across from the golden-eyed young man, who was staring intently at the pot, she gently sipped estervino from a polished tin cup. The cloudy white drink had a sweet aroma but a crisp, medium-dry flavor.

The first time she’d had this drink, she’d found it similar to the Japanese sake her father from her previous life had been fond of. She occasionally compared her previous life to this one in that way because she had in fact been reincarnated into this world.

Her name in this life was Dahlia Rossetti, though she couldn’t recall her name in her former life. She had been born and raised in the country of Japan and had worked at a company that produced household appliances. She had wanted to work on the production side, but her life had ended abruptly before she could realize that goal. Perhaps because of that, she had been born into this world with a magical toolmaker for a father, and she herself had followed in his footsteps.

A magical toolmaker was an artisan who used their own magic, magic crystals containing elements such as fire and water, or monster materials to create tools that utilized that magic. Dahlia focused her efforts on creating magical tools rooted in everyday life, such as hot water dispensers, refrigerators, and freezers powered by magical crystals, as well as waterproof cloth with magically applied powdered slime, among others.

In front of her now, in her home, the Green Tower, was a heated low table, reminiscent of what she’d known as a kotatsu in her previous life, and resting on top of that was a compact magical stove with its gently simmering pot. They were both tools she had made with her own magic.

“I’ll go ahead and slice some cheese.”

The young man who held a knife with a practiced hand was Volfred Scalfarotto. He was a royal knight of the Kingdom of Ordine’s Order of Beast Hunters as well as the fourth son of an earldom.

In contrast to Dahlia—who had vivid red hair and bright green eyes but an otherwise plain appearance—Volf was a handsome young man, and he made heads turn everywhere he went. From his tall, toned physique to his ebony hair and flawless pale skin to his perfectly balanced facial features—most striking of which were his golden, almond-shaped eyes—his beauty was unforgettable after witnessing it even once. Even a gorgeous portrait would pale in comparison when placed next to him—and no, that was not an exaggeration.

His appearance meant he was quite popular, but after all the jealousy and misunderstandings, as well as a string of extreme attempts women had made to approach him, romance had become a sore point for Volf.

However, Dahlia was similar in that regard. She’d had hardly any relationships in her past life, and although her father in this world had picked her a fiancé, their engagement had ended just before they were to be married. It seemed that she had no luck in love, either before or after her rebirth.

Volf and Dahlia had become fast friends after their chance second encounter and had even become business colleagues.

“Thank you. You’re pretty good at that, aren’t you, Volf?”

With smooth movements, Volf sliced the flat, round, orange cheese with a silver knife. This particular cheese was fairly hard, but he cut the slices as thin as fish flakes and piled them all onto a small plate.

The freshly sliced cheese, with its pleasant, salty aroma, made for a great accompaniment to their drinks. Although it was ill-mannered to do so, they picked up the slices of cheese, slightly curved at the edges, with their fingers and ate them like that.

Volf sliced two small plates’ worth of cheese and then placed the bottle of white wine he’d brought on the table. As he gathered a pair of glasses, the white steam began to take on a pleasant aroma.

“I think it may be about done. Could you remove the lid?”

“Sure thing.”

Volf placed a hand on the lid of the pot, his expression serious. After he carefully lifted the lid, white steam filled with the scent of cooked chicken wafted up gently. Simmering in the broth-filled pot were thick chicken meatballs and chopped leeks.

Today, at the recommendation of the neighborhood grocer, he had ended up buying a whole box of large leeks. Called jumbo leeks, they were incredibly juicy and delicious.

The chicken meatballs, which were too big to be eaten in one bite, were a mixture of chicken meat, grated ginger, salt, and the green parts of the leeks, finely minced. Although the only seasoning was salt, the chicken and ginger flavors were strong enough to be sufficient in themselves. Volf inhaled deeply of the steam, letting his golden eyes gently roll back.

“The smell alone is delicious...”

“Don’t satisfy yourself with just the smell, please.”

He hadn’t even taken a bite yet, after all. Dahlia filled a bowl with an ample serving of the chicken meatballs and leeks, then placed it in front of Volf. Once she filled her own bowl, they made a toast.

“Cheers, to good fortune and health, and to great-smelling soup!”

“Cheers, to good fortune and health.”

Apparently Volf really enjoyed the scent of the chicken meatballs. He only took one sip of his wine before bringing his spoon to the bowl. As she watched him, Dahlia tilted her glass of white. The medium-dry wine had a clean flavor and went down smoothly. After the sensation of the alcohol warming her throat was gone, the mild sweetness lingered. Before the aftertaste disappeared, she took a bite of the sliced cheese so she could fully enjoy its rich, slightly salty flavor. She could never tire of this combination.

As Dahlia alternated between tasting the wine and the sliced cheese, Volf, seated across from her, was chewing his food with full concentration. He seemed to be enjoying the flavor of the chicken meatballs too, as his bowl was already half empty. Perhaps noticing her gaze on him, he gulped down a piping hot meatball and looked at Dahlia.

“It tastes even better than it smells...”

“I’m glad you think it’s tasty.”

Dahlia thought it was a little odd just how much he was fixated on the smell.

“I think a good smell is part of the flavor. But with this dish, the flavor is better than the smell. This combination of chicken, ginger, and leek is—how should I put this?—like a beautiful love triangle.”

What an unsettling compliment. But although Dahlia didn’t think there was such a thing as a good love triangle when it came to romance, perhaps it was an acceptable way to describe flavor.

“Jumbo leeks and chicken meatballs really are the perfect combination, aren’t they?”

“Spicy scallion shoots also go well with them.”

“Oh, really?”

“You can fill even smaller chicken meatballs with loads of spicy scallion shoots. They can be cooked in a pot like this, or you can eat them boiled and dressed with soy sauce or lemon juice.”

“Spicy scallion shoots... Are they sold at the market?”

“I don’t think so, but they should have them next summer. Jumbo leeks won’t be available then, though.”

“Got it. Then, in order for us to compare the two next year, let’s fill a box with ice crystals and freeze the leeks!”

“Volf, foods should be eaten in season...”

And so the two of them continued to satisfy their ravenous appetites for both food and conversation.

Once they had finished their meal, they switched out their white wine for red and continued talking. Their topic of conversation turned to Volf’s home.

“The other day, the gardener dug up the flower bed at the villa and planted some bulbs. I was a little surprised. I thought bulbs were only planted in the spring.”

Remembering that some flower bulbs needed a certain level of cold in the winter in order to bloom the following year, she asked, “Are they flowers that don’t bloom unless they endure a cold winter?”

Volf nodded. “Yeah, that’s what the gardener said. They asked if they could plant more types of flowers, so I left it up to them. Until now it was mostly filled with my mother’s favorite white flowers, but the gardener thought they seemed a little lonely on their own and wanted to plant some red flowers too.”

“I’m sure the garden will look gorgeous next year, then.”

“Yeah. We can see it together once the flowers bloom.”

Volf’s villa was the location of the Rossetti Trading Company’s headquarters and the Scalfarottos’ magical tool workshop, so Dahlia visited it regularly. She was excited to see what kind of flowers would bloom.

“But I’m not great at describing the garden. They say understanding gardens is part of being a noble, but I can barely tell flowers apart. I thought ranunculuses were roses for the longest time, and I even mixed up lotuses and water lilies while out on expedition.”

“Those look similar, so I don’t think you can blame yourself for that. My father taught me that while both have round leaves, a lotus doesn’t have a notch in its leaf, while a water lily does.”

“Knowing that would have made it easy enough even for me to tell them apart. When I asked Randolph about the difference, he said lotuses are the ones you can get lotus roots from...”

Although he wasn’t wrong, Dahlia wasn’t so sure that was the best way to distinguish the flowers.

“Come to think of it, I think there were water lilies in Lady Altea’s summer guest room.”

“Her...summer guest room?”

“Yeah. At Lady Altea’s house, she switches up the guest rooms depending on what season it is. I think she chooses whichever bedroom has the nicest view of the garden, but I don’t remember very well, so I can’t explain it...”

Dahlia wouldn’t have expected anything less from a dowager duchess. She’d read in a book that the arrangement of the garden in a noble’s home was part of the art of hospitality, which she could understand. And now she knew there were some guests on whom that hospitality was lost.

“I’m sure those who have an interest in gardens enjoy the alternating rooms.”

“Admiring gardens is a common practice among the nobility. But I think I’d get bored looking at a pretty garden. I have more fun wearing these and walking around the market.”

As he spoke, he lightly stroked his shirt pocket with his fingers. Inside the pocket were his glasses made of fairy glass. Those glasses were a magical tool of Dahlia’s own creation, made to change Volf’s striking golden eyes into ordinary green ones. They were a convenient disguise that allowed him to freely walk about the town.

Ever since this past summer, it had become a favorite pastime of Volf’s to don those glasses and walk through the markets. As a result, here in the Green Tower, the two of them made full use of the ingredients and alcoholic drinks he purchased there.

Dahlia placed her drained glass on the table, and hearing the faint thunking sound it made, she furrowed her brow.

“What’s wrong, Dahlia?”

“Yesterday, I took a class on etiquette for people preparing to receive a peerage, and I was warned not to make a sound when setting my glass down on a table. It looks like I still have a lot to learn about etiquette.”

“At parties among nobles, there are always tablecloths on the tables, so I doubt it would make that much noise. Besides, I think you’ve already got the etiquette down pat, Dahlia.”

She was thankful for Volf’s encouraging words, but unfortunately, she was still entirely lacking on that front. During yesterday’s etiquette class, her teacher had warned her with a smile twenty-seven times. Her notebook had turned completely black. Dahlia had vowed to herself that she would bring a larger notebook from now on.

“Not at all. When I first entered the room, I said, ‘Thank you for having me.’ I was chided for that.”

“Huh? That’s what I say, though.”

“The correct way for commoner merchants and barons to address nobility when entering a room is ‘I humbly thank you for your hospitality.’ Also, depending on the topic of conversation, instead of saying something like ‘Okay,’ you should say, ‘Certainly’ or ‘Very well.’ There are lots of rules like that that I fumbled.”

“I didn’t know... I think I might be worse off than you. My family’s going to become a marquisate, and yet I have no idea how to talk politely. Maybe I should review from a book, or no, maybe I should ask my brother...”

Holding his glass in one hand, Volf rested his chin on his fist and sank into thought.

In the past, Volf had spoken of his plans to leave the Scalfarotto family and become a commoner, but he’d stopped saying that of late. And Dahlia herself wasn’t going to ask about it. Volf had been estranged from his family for quite a while, but now their relationship was finally improving. It was probably safer for him to stay with his family, who were soon to go from being an earldom to a marquisate. Dahlia wanted to hope that their friendship would remain unchanged—but whether that was possible was hard to say.

“Dahlia.”

As she was brooding, she heard her name called out, and she quickly looked up. Volf was holding a bottle of wine, waiting to fill her empty glass.

“Next summer, let’s go looking for spicy scallion shoots in the market.”

“Yes, let’s.”

As the flowing wine filled another cup, so their promises to each other increased by another.

Deciding on Gifts

“Here, for lunch.”

“Thanks, Dahlia.”

It was Irma who thanked Dahlia for the basket packed full of snacks, but the one who took it from her hands was Marcella.

“Thanks a bunch, Dahlia!” he said, echoing his wife. Dahlia smiled at him in response.

They were currently in Marcella and Irma’s house. Gathered in their kitchen-slash-living room were Dahlia and Volf, Ivano and Lucia, and Mena. The women were sitting in chairs around the table, while the men were sitting on a row of stools. With this many people gathered, the room felt cramped.

Sitting on the upholstered armchair under a sunbeam pouring in through a window was Irma. Her stomach was so big, it wouldn’t have been strange to think she must be due to give birth this very month.

She seemed to have sensed Dahlia’s worried gaze. Irma’s cinnamon eyes squinted as she smiled and said, “These days, my neighbors keep asking if I’m due soon, but I’m still only seven months along.”

“Irma, isn’t it hard to move?”

“A little, since I’m so heavy. But even though both me and the children are healthy, I have to move to the temple when I reach the ninth month, since I’m having twins. Preparing for that has been harder.”

Since having two children or more put a lot of strain on both mothers and their babies, it was recommended that the mothers move to the temple before giving birth. Dahlia felt this was a good method to ensure their safety, but Irma seemed not to be too happy about it.

“There’s nothing you can do, Irma,” said Lucia. “You’re having twins. Besides, won’t you have more peace of mind being at the temple? And when is Marcella staying with you there?”

“Oh, no, I have work...” Marcella responded evasively.

Ivano, with a smile on his face, spoke up.

“Once Irma goes to the temple, take the afternoons off, and then, starting from the day before the babies’ due date, take two whole weeks off. After that, continue taking the afternoons off for three weeks. That’s how we’ll do things. I’ve already run it by the Scalfarottos, so you will have a temporary replacement. Do you approve, Chairwoman?”

“Yes, of course,” Dahlia said with an enthusiastic nod.

“No, you’ve done so much for me already. I can’t take that long of a break—”

“Raising one child is hard enough, and you’re having twins. How will your wife cope without her husband looking after her? I took two weeks off after each of my daughters was born. Oh, you’ll still receive your salary, so please don’t worry about that.”

Marcella was hesitant, but considering how much care Irma and the babies would need after they were born, a husband’s help was absolutely necessary.

In Ordine, homes were the most common settings for childbirth, followed by clinics and, if there were any extra concerns, the temple. The kingdom took care of all childbirth expenses, so the burden was very light. However, since there were few facilities for hospitalization, it was typical after childbirth for people to ask for the aid of family or helpers and recover either in their own homes, their parents’ homes, or the homes of other close family.

While both Irma and Marcella’s families were going to come help, Irma’s first childbirth would be twins, and this would be the couple’s first time taking care of children. Dahlia wanted Marcella to prioritize his family over being her bodyguard.

“I’m very grateful for that, but who will guard Dahlia? If you find someone else to do it, you’ll have to pay them too. I feel terrible putting everything on a friend like this.”

“We can find a substitute bodyguard. Besides, a bodyguard distracted by worry for his wife would not be helpful. Also, if you don’t take a proper break, the next employee who has a child won’t be able to take one either, will they? I made the break a little longer, since you’re having twins, but we need to allow for everyone in the company to rest and not push themselves.”

“The one pushing themselves the hardest here is you, Ivano,” Dahlia responded reflexively to Ivano’s lecture.

He scratched his mustard-colored hair with a wry laugh. “I know, Chairwoman. I’ve been trying as best I can to avoid overtime recently. I’m delegating what I can.”

When Dahlia had found out Ivano had been working overtime for consecutive days, she’d quickly put a stop to it. She had proposed three options: use outside resources, hire more people, or take on less work. He had chosen the first.

However, Ivano had also begun meeting with nobles more often outside of his working hours. Apparently, he also now routinely had tea with Volf’s older brother Guido and the vice-guildmaster of the Adventurers’ Guild, Augusto. He’d even come to be on close terms with the guildmaster of the Tailors’ Guild, Forto, and had stayed over at his home.

The other day, when he had mentioned he was on his way to have a meal at Head Treasurer Gildo’s home, she had unthinkingly asked him about it. He’d asked in turn if she wanted to come along, an offer she had vehemently declined, as she’d felt she wouldn’t be able to keep up with her subordinate’s social prowess.

“Okay then, it’s time to start deciding on baby gifts for the Nuvolaris!”

The youngest among them, Mena, picked up a pen and spread a large sheet of paper on the table. Written on the sheet was a list of items the couple would need after the childbirth. Their close friends would be choosing which gifts to give them to celebrate the birth of their children. Dahlia thought this was a great, efficient custom.

“My family took care of the two baby beds.”

“And mine provided the bedding.”

After they checked off the things the couple already had, the rest of the group proposed what they wanted to give in order from youngest to oldest. The rule was to alleviate whatever burdens they could.

“All right, I’ll get baby soap and tableware for baby food.”

“Thanks, Mena. I’ll give you a gift in return when you get married.”

“I’m a free lover, so unfortunately, I have no plans for that. Instead, how about you give me a discount on my next two or three haircuts once you’re back at work?”

“I’ll cut your hair for free, Mena. Oh look, your bangs are getting quite long, actually. If you want, I could cut them now...”

“No, Irma. You promised you wouldn’t pick up a pair of scissors starting this week,” Marcella said firmly. Everyone looked at him with understanding smiles. Noticing the attention, he shifted his gaze toward the wall and let out a shallow cough.

Lucia raised her hand, her dayflower eyes sparkling.

“In addition to baby clothes and diapers, I’ll get a baby carrier and a baby wrap, and a new wardrobe for Irma for after she gives birth!”

“Thanks, Lucia. But you’re already giving us enough. You’re giving us twenty sets of baby clothes, and so many diapers—”

“Then I’ll give you some more clothes after they’re born and you know what their sex is. Later, I want you to look at some of the designs I’ve drawn up for baby clothes! All of us at the Tailors’ Guild drew up a bunch of ideas for both boys’ and girls’ clothes!”

It seemed Irma and Marcella’s children would have a full wardrobe waiting for them. It was also starting to seem likelier every day that the twins would be made to model baby clothes for Lucia, but Dahlia decided to keep that thought to herself.

“Thanks. Right, let us know the second you’re planning on getting married. We’ll have to save up to repay you.”

Dahlia, smiling at Marcella’s remark, suggested her own present. “I’ll get a baby carriage. I hear there’s a baby carriage for twins that also has a rain cover. Does that sound good?”

“Thanks, Dahlia. That’d be great.”

“Thanks, Dahlia.”

Dahlia was glad she had looked at a store catalog ahead of time. First she had thought about getting two regular baby carriages, but there would probably be times when one parent had to go somewhere with both twins. The twin baby stroller was for moments like that.

As for the rain cover, that had been Ivano’s suggestion. Not only was it good for protecting the babies from sudden rain or the strong sun, it was also good for when they fell asleep. Incidentally, the rain cover was actually made of Dahlia’s very own waterproof cloth. That made her happy.

“This isn’t on this list, but I’ll get a magical tool that prevents spontaneous magic discharge. My brother told me it’s possible for even young kids to express magic, so the sooner they have one, the better. They’ll probably be like you, Marcella.”

“Now that you mention it, I heard that babies who have earth magic tend to shoot sand everywhere where they’re crawling around...”

Marcella, his face unreadable, nodded at Volf’s suggestion. Magic control was difficult for children. While most commoners had no use for a tool to mitigate that problem, Marcella’s birth mother had worked in the red-light district, and his father was in all likelihood a noble. Marcella had strong magic, and it was clear his and Irma’s children also had considerably strong magic. It wouldn’t hurt to have a magical tool as a preventative measure.

“There are several left over at my house, so let me give them to you as a gift.”

“That’d be great, but...aren’t those expensive?”

“Not really. Besides, they’re good for several purposes.”

“No, Volf, we haven’t thought about the future yet...”

“That’s not what I mean, Marcella. I mean they can be used for other things...”

Volf huddled close to Marcella and the two of them started murmuring about something while the others ignored them.

Ivano raised his right hand. “Okay, now it’s my turn! Allow me to give you a large washbasin for bathing, a baby-grooming kit, and baby oil. I’ve also got some recommendations of things that I found useful when my daughters were infants.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ivano.”

As Irma thanked him, Ivano ran his navy blue eyes over another sheet of paper.

“This isn’t written on the paper, but Lord Bernigi D’Orazi and his wife, Lady Mersela, who will be signing their hands, will also be signing you up for a year of goat milk deliveries. Of course, it will be enough milk for two babies.”

“Goat milk deliveries?”

“It’s a service that delivers fresh bottles of goat milk once a day, ready to drink. Some people in the Tailors’ Guild use it too. It’d be great to have for the twins,” Lucia explained.

Shops in Ordine sold goat’s milk too. However, nothing beat having it delivered straight to your home. In this world, where powdered milk wasn’t a thing, it was a pretty convenient service. This was just like Bernigi—he was always so attentive. While Dahlia was admiring the veteran for that, Marcella turned a little pale.

“Mr. Ivano, that service requires a delivery fee, and a year’s worth of milk for two babies is going to be pretty expensive, isn’t it? How in the world are we ever going to repay Lord Bernigi...?”

“Lord Bernigi’s family owns goats, and right now, there are no other children or infants around, so they have a lot to spare. And he said he doesn’t require anything in the way of a return gift, so please just write him a letter, Marcella. The man is also signing his hand for your children. Write to him to express your gratitude, talk about the things going on in your life and with your children—whatever you write about, just make it long!”

“Ugh, but I have terrible handwriting!”

“I’ll help, Marcella...”

Marcella’s voice had nearly risen to a scream, and he was clutching at his head with both hands. Irma encouraged him with a smile, but she had a very faraway look in her eyes.

However, this was for their precious children. Dahlia hoped they could find the resolve to pull through.

“When you can’t use the goat’s milk right away, I hear it’s good to store it in a fridge or a freezer, since babies can eat at irregular intervals.”

Ivano’s words reminded Dahlia of the fridge she had back at the tower. The one unit she had successfully made as an experiment was currently empty, waiting and willing.

“Irma, I have a prototype fridge with a freezer attached, so why don’t you take that? It’s a little big, but I think it’d be good for storing goat’s milk and baby food.”

“Thanks. I’d love to say I’ll keep it, but I’ll take good care of it and give it back to you when it’s your turn.”

Irma said that as if it were just a natural fact, leaving Dahlia unsettled.

“I have no plans in that regard.”

“She can just make another one when that time comes.”

When Dahlia and Volf responded at the same time, she gasped and automatically froze. He didn’t stir an inch either.

Perhaps because their timing had been so perfectly aligned that it had created a moment of awkward tension, the entire room had fallen silent. Someone, please, start talking about something else! she prayed.

“...That’s right, the chairwoman is a magical toolmaker! You can make one whenever. You could even make a new model next.”

Mena’s cheerful voice permeated her ears. He was ever the people person. Dahlia was so grateful, she wanted to make sure that his next paycheck included what she would have called a “bonus” in her previous life.

“That’s right! I want to make the next fridge a little lighter and also increase the storage space.”

“Both weight and storage are important. It’d be great if I could bring a fridge out on an expedition...”

When Dahlia and Volf started talking about work, Irma let out a small groan and winced.

“Irma?”

“Irma, are you okay?!”

Dahlia and Marcella were about to stand up when Irma gave a small shake of her head.

“I’m fine. The babies just started getting a little rowdy.”

Irma’s tea-colored hair swayed as she slowly adjusted her position. Even under her loose-fitting clothes, her stomach was visibly moving. Just as she had said, the babies looked very active.

“I wonder if they’re a pair of mischievous boys, like Marcella?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Ivano. Maybe they’re a couple of playful tomboys!”

“Either way, it seems like they’re definitely strong, healthy babies.”

Marcella tilted his head slightly at Lucia and Volf’s words. “What’re the chances they’ll be quiet, obedient children...? It’s zero, isn’t it?”

“Please don’t get yourself down, Marcella!”

“It’s no use, Mena. If they take after either of their parents, there’s no way they’ll be quiet kids.”

“You’re merciless, Ms. Lucia...”

In the midst of all the laughter and talk, Dahlia and Irma met eyes. Dahlia’s friend smiled happily at her and muttered, “As long as they’re born safely, I don’t care about anything else.”

Royal Magical Toolmaking Department, Section Two

With Uros leading the way, their party left the first section of the Magical Toolmaking Department and headed for the opposite building. The structure of the second section’s building closely resembled that of the first, with a similar reception desk and an area with knights waiting on standby. The moment they saw their group walk in, they stood at attention and gave them even deeper bows than the staff in the first section.

Full of nerves, Dahlia went up to the second floor, where all the doorways were sliding doors. The continuous line of sliding doors resembled the sliding screen doors of her life in Japan. They were probably for ease in bringing larger magical tools in and out of the rooms.

As they walked down the hall, they passed by magical toolmakers carrying documents and workers with large flaxen cloth bundles. Everyone seemed very busy.

“Those we just passed by were carrying heated low tables for the guardrooms,” Carmine explained. “The upward-venting low tables have been especially favorably received, since the guards can stand by without having to take their shoes off. Some guardrooms don’t have doors, you see.”

“They don’t? That sounds like it would be freezing,” Dahlia responded unthinkingly.

“It is so they can rush out in cases of emergency. Although they can warm up in the lounge during their shift changes, the indoor temperature is about the same as the outdoors. This year, they’ll have the heated low tables as well as the portable warm air circulators, so it seems they have a very warm winter ahead of them.”

“I am glad to hear that.”

It was entirely possible that the guards had previously been using magical hand warmers. They were small metal containers that held a fire crystal and were partially warming. However, for times when one wanted to warm one’s entire back, a portable warm air circulator would be more convenient. It was great to hear the guards would pass the winter warmly. Dahlia couldn’t contain her smile.

“The heated low tables are more popular, but it is very easy to fall asleep under those... They are very convenient for staying overnight, though.”

“Do the toolmakers work overnight?”

While she was happy they were making use of her own creation, she wondered if the castle toolmakers were so busy they had to resort to working through the night. If that was the case, she felt guilty for taking up their time with this tour.

“On rare occasions—for example, when they need to perform hourly checks on tools undergoing durability testing. As for the heated low tables that are normally used, the magical toolmakers who reside in the dormitories purchase your specification document and craft them themselves.”

Dahlia would have expected nothing less of the royal toolmakers. It sounded like it was quicker for them to make their own than to purchase them. Perhaps the heated low tables would gain more interesting functions in the future. While she was thrilled by the idea, Uros made a face.

“There’s a two-month wait if you request one from the Merchants’ Guild. That’s why they buy the specs document, but enchanting that magical circuit is tricky work. One of the staff laid it down wrong and ended up scorching the floor.”

“Director, that wasn’t because they made a mistake laying down the magic circuit but because they made the output too high. It was their mistake making the circuitry like that of an oven without consulting the specification document.”

Any magical toolmaker would be enticed by the idea of raising the output. Dahlia understood that feeling very well. But it really had been lucky that only the floor had been burned. If it had been their legs, that would have been incredibly dangerous.

“Cooked to perfection by a low table oven...” Volf whispered in a voice so low only she could hear. She’d have a long talk with him later. Right now, it was all she could do to keep her shoulders from shaking.

“But anyway, the heated low tables sure are great. I have one in my home too. Once I get under it, it’s hard to get out. Not being able to use the bathroom is a real drawback...”

“That is why I told you I did not recommend you have your dinner while sitting under it, no matter how comfortable it may be. It is ideal to place it in your bedroom and relax under it before bed.”

In front of the sliding doors, the director and vice-director of the magical toolmaking department had begun a debate over heated low tables.

“Well, I think it sounds best to fall asleep under a heated low table that has a long quilt.”

“If you are going to sleep, then it would be ideal to put a miniature heated low table in your bed.”

Gildo and Volf had even started to give their own theories about the tables’ best possible uses, but the discussion was already one about personal preferences. In any case, it seemed all too likely that kotatsu would permeate through the magical toolmaking department as well.

Although magic hadn’t existed in Dahlia’s previous life, the magic of a kotatsu was felt strongly in this world as well.

“Huh? D-Director Uros...”

A magical toolmaker had noisily flung open the sliding door and was now standing there with widening eyes. The toolmaker must have been shocked to see the director, vice-director, and head treasurer standing on the other side of the door they had innocently opened.

“I’ve brought Madam Rossetti, adviser to the Order of Beast Hunters, here for a tour. Continue on with your work, everyone.”

“I’m Dahlia Rossetti. I apologize for disrupting your work.”

They entered the large room, and following Uros, Dahlia managed to introduce herself. When she did, the toolmakers inside all bowed. Inside the room were rows of pale blue blades that measured half her height. Carmine turned over one of the completed ones to show her.

“This is a part of a large ventilator fan that is planned for use in the kitchen. It will be installed directly on the walls and will be used to blow odors and heat outside so they don’t stay confined in the kitchen. The ones they currently have are very loud, so the plan is to switch them out with these.”

Underneath the blade was a magical circuit that looked to be for the purpose of absorbing sound. She had thought it would be a fairly large fan, but it sounded like it would be used as an extractor. The castle’s kitchen made large quantities of food, so their rooms were likely stuffy with many smells and heat. It was certainly an indispensable tool for them.

“It is made out of metal, on top of which a layer of crushed monster bones is applied, along with a double layer of a liquid mixture of blue slime powder. It’s superior in strength and has excellent waterproof qualities, so it should be much more durable.”

The waterproofing effect of blue slime should keep the blades from getting dirty. That would also make cleaning the extractor much easier.

Despite her desire impelling her to inspect the blade more thoroughly, she followed Carmine to the next room.

“This is a water dispenser for horses. It dispenses a large volume of lukewarm water. Horses and sleipnirs used in ceremonies must be washed often, but in winter, cold water becomes a problem for both the horse and the washer...”

This water dispenser used five fire crystals and five water crystals. It had a sizable showerhead with larger holes to dispense a lot of lukewarm water at once. Considering the size of horses and sleipnirs, it was a satisfactory method. There were also bathtubs large enough for horses in their stables. These tools would allow for them to be bathed comfortably.

“Were they washed with cold water before now?” Volf asked curiously.

Carmine cast his indigo-gray eyes down. “The mages used to prepare the hot water to wash horses, but it overlapped with their other responsibilities, so it took up a lot of their time...”

“There’s no need to mince words. The duty of making the hot water to wash horses is unpopular among the castle mages,” Uros said, cutting off Carmine to explain the reason more clearly.

“Unpopular...? A duty is a duty,” Gildo remarked.

“I’m sure many of the people who become castle mages either want to be part of the royal knights or want to devote themselves to magical research.”

Dahlia didn’t think it was entirely unreasonable. There were surely many people who would be disappointed with being assigned work vastly different from the kind they wanted to perform. Still, what Gildo said was also true. It was a duty, and somebody had to do it.

“The horses and sleipnirs will probably be more comfortable with the water dispensers. They get anxious around people they’re unfamiliar with, and the stable hands can wash them when it’s convenient for them,” Volf spoke up quietly.

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it...”

“I’m embarrassed to say, but I don’t have much of a taste for riding horses,” said Carmine. “Do horses and sleipnirs really become that anxious around different people?”

“They each have their individual temperaments, so I can’t say this applies to all of them, but sleipnirs are wary of those with strong magic. Sometimes, it can take a while for them to get accustomed to those people. Also, both sleipnirs and horses dislike when their riders change, and they can refuse to listen to commands or even to take their meals.”

Apparently, there were a certain number of horses and sleipnirs with sensitive personalities. Volf had spent a lot of time with horses on expeditions, so he must have had experience with all types of horses.

“I see. Birds of a feather really do flock together—or in this case, horses.”

Dahlia mentally agreed with what Uros said as they exited the room. Next, they headed to the third floor. Here, too, they passed by magical toolmakers walking down the hall carrying leather boxes and silver magically sealed boxes.

“We’re coming up on winter, so we’ve been receiving many repair requests for indoor heating tools,” Carmine explained. “For example, fireplace ignition systems, water dispensers, heated chairs and sofas, et cetera. Also, we’ve started work on the magical lanterns for the end of the year. Would you like to see?”

“Yes, I would love to.”

The magical lantern was her grandfather’s invention. What were the castle’s end-of-year magical lanterns like? Would they be gorgeously decorated for the winter festival, or would they have some sort of magical effect? Her anticipation swelled as they continued down the hall, and then Carmine knocked on the door to one of the rooms.

A voice called out for them to come in, and they entered a dim room with half-closed curtains. Several small-size magical lanterns were sitting on top of a table. The lanterns were each encased in a round crystal glass. A quarter of each lantern was azure, out of which spilled flickering aqua blue and deep cyan lights, giving it a very dreamlike appearance. Dahlia was staring at them in fascination when she felt a slight heat on her left wrist. Volf took a half step in front of Dahlia, and Carmine looked at him with a start.

“My apologies. I should have asked first. Chairwoman Dahlia, are you wearing an antihypnosis magical tool?”

“Yes, I am.”

In order to negate the hypnotic effect, the bracelet around her wrist was letting out heat. Everyone in their party, Volf included, was a noble. Carmine must have not even considered the need to confirm.

“Thank goodness—this is a magical lantern used for taking naps, called the ‘nap lantern.’ If you lift up the shade at the top, it emits a blue light and causes a hypnosis effect. Then, it can either be manually closed or, after a certain length of time, it will descend automatically and turn itself off.”

“A nap lantern?”

Dahlia knew about magic lanterns used for sleeping, but she had never heard of a nap lantern before. She wondered if its purpose was to induce sleepiness in people with insomnia so severe they couldn’t even take naps.

“Yes, it’s for civil officials’ break rooms. Apparently, they have trouble sleeping from the fatigue of settling accounts and handling various postmortems, so we have an increased demand for nap lanterns at the end of the year. Turning on one of these lanterns can make one instantly fall asleep, so it’s a treasured tool for anyone with a busy schedule.”

“You don’t say...”

What a depressing magical tool. At the words “civil officials” and “settling accounts,” she unconsciously glanced at Gildo. He quickly averted his amber eyes, then answered her question without her having to ask.

“...I don’t use them much, but they are highly effective for falling asleep. They do nothing for stomach pains, though.”

The end of the year was coming up quick. Maybe she should find some effective stomach medicine and send it to Gildo to show her gratitude. As Dahlia thought about that, Uros called out to a nearby toolmaker.

“Take out the materials for these—the moonbeam butterfly wings.”

“Yes, sir, right away.”

The toolmaker placed a large, flat, magically sealed box on the table, then gently opened it up. Underneath a sheet of glass lay several butterfly wings in shades ranging from aqua to dark cyan. Moonbeam butterflies—they looked similar to the aurora morpho of Dahlia’s previous world. The wings were the length of Dahlia’s elbow to her fingertips. This was her first time seeing butterfly wings of this size. They glimmered as if sprinkled with moonlight. The effect was captivatingly beautiful.

“The scales of moonbeam butterfly wings have a strong hypnotic effect. The nap lantern is made by enchanting the crystal glass with the crystallized wings of these butterflies. It’s easily influenced by fluctuations in magic, so enchanting the crystal requires a certain degree of control—”

Uros abruptly stopped talking, and the magical toolmaker at his side gave a jolt. Without even glancing at the toolmaker, the director turned the lanterns around, inspecting them.

“This one, this one... This one’s no good either. They’re riddled with flaws.”

The toolmaker began offering excuses in a small voice. “They have all been enchanted according to standard, and there should be no issues with the hypnotic effect—”

Uros narrowed his vermilion eyes at the toolmaker. Sensing a tepid swaying of magical energy coming from him, Dahlia instinctively braced herself.

“Since when did this become a permissible level of quality for a royal magical toolmaker?” the director questioned in a low voice.

In response, Carmine stepped forward. “Director Uros, I’m sorry. This was due to negligent instruction on my part. I entrusted the task to the newcomers who joined last year and failed to perform the proper checks.”

“The newcomers, you say? You’ve been very busy helping me with my work too, Vice-Director Carmine, so it’s reasonable you’d let this fall by the wayside...”

Uros pushed his monocle up with one finger and smiled kindly. For some reason, it gave Dahlia chills. The director then picked up one of the nap lanterns, his smile deepening.

“I’m the one whose instruction has been negligent. Allow me to sincerely reflect and provide some educational guidance—this is the perfect opportunity to give Chairwoman Dahlia an enchantment demonstration. We can hear her valuable input.”

“Oh no, Director Uros, your staff seems to be incredibly busy, so I—”

Why was he dragging her into this? If he wanted to instruct the magical toolmakers who had just joined last year, she wished he would do that among themselves. Dahlia didn’t have the magical or technical skill of a royal magical toolmaker. She wouldn’t even know what input to give.

“The nap lantern is my invention, but it hasn’t yet made its way out of the castle. There seem to be similar products among the populace, but I’d like to know if the hypnotic effect should be lowered and such—”

Uros turned his vermilion eyes on Dahlia as if examining her, then continued.

“Chairwoman Dahlia, since you’ve come all the way here, let me give you the recipe for the liquid solution and some moonbeam butterfly wings to take with you. I can give you enough to make lanterns for yourself and friends for research purposes. How does that sound?”

Truthfully, Dahlia would love to take a look at the recipe for the solution. She was very interested in finding out the composition and proportions. Moonbeam butterfly wings were also a material she was keen to try using at least once. Also, if she could manage it, she wanted to create a nap lantern to give to Ivano. She was trying her best to stop him from working overtime, but he still occasionally had dark circles under his eyes. Also, maybe she could make one for Volf too. Sleep was essential to relieve his fatigue from expeditions.

Dahlia knew all too well that Uros had her right in the palm of his hand, but as a magical toolmaker, how could she refuse?

“Thank you. If we could do so in the corner of a room where we won’t disturb anyone, it would be a pleasure to observe.”

“Dahlia...” Volf muttered worriedly beside her. She gave him an enthusiastic nod. They would hide themselves away as much as they could in a corner of a room and observe so that eventually, she could craft a nap lantern with her own hands.

“Well then,” said Uros, “let us relocate.”

They all followed the broadly smiling director out of the room and headed for the farthest room back on the third floor.

They first entered a small room with an area for making tea. The interior was furnished with a low table, sofa, and two white leather chairs. The chairs looked to be of fine quality, with four white decorative buttons on their headrests, but they were placed in a way that made Dahlia concerned they’d be a nuisance.

“Are these used for breaks?”

“Yes. I just can’t bring myself to get rid of them— Oh right, everyone, this is a shoulder pain relief chair. These buttons are made of unicorn horn, and if you open your collar and lean against them, it relieves shoulder pain. Unfortunately, mass production has been prohibited.”

“I’d think a chair that prevents stiff shoulders would be a very useful thing, though,” Gildo said, placing a finger to his chin and gazing intently at the chair.

Carmine shook his head. “While these chairs certainly hide pain just as a unicorn pendant or bracelet might do, they don’t treat the underlying problem. Some people let it worsen to the point that they have to go to a doctor or priest for help. Moreover, even though the priests can use healing magic to treat injuries, their magic is ineffective for skewed or aging bones, or bones that have experienced a lot of strain.”

“I see...”

Gildo’s face grew a touch grim. Was he reminded of something...? No, she didn’t want to ask. Also, Dahlia definitely couldn’t mention that she wore a unicorn pendant herself to relieve her stiff shoulders.

“Unicorn horn is a useful material, but many people use it incorrectly. One time, some second son tried to avoid having to get a tooth pulled that way only to end up with one cheek that looked like a hamster’s.”

“Lord Uros, perhaps saying anything more would be irreverent, so—”

“It’s fine. I didn’t say ‘His Highness,’ did I?”

Dahlia’s face muscles were not okay. She couldn’t even give a response, let alone smile—she simply continued walking forward.

Unicorn horns were undoubtedly effective for pain relief, but she’d never thought of using one for a cavity. Although, it was standard for commoners to drink a pain-numbing decoction at the dentist before having their cavities treated. Dahlia had also had some work done on a small cavity, but it had still been decently painful. For more serious cavities and wisdom tooth problems that required extra intervention, people went to the temple. Doing that was fairly expensive, though, which was why people said it made their wallets cry.

In both her prior and current worlds, dental work was something children—and sometimes adults as well—wanted to flee from.

“The toolmakers in the workroom up ahead are crafting tools that are used in the castle, which they do for three years after joining the department. After that, they can either engage in manufacturing tools of their choosing or apply to develop a tool of their own. If they are successful, they become ‘room owners.’”

“Right now, there are more people who want to invent tools and become room owners than work on manufacturing tools.”

Dahlia could understand why. While it was fun to make magical tools, inventing one’s own was a different type of fun. There was no doubt that the toolmakers wanted their own workspaces where they could focus on their own work.

“A room owner’s salary receives a twenty percent increase, and they also get a budget for their project. It’s natural to aspire to it.”

The head treasurer’s composed voice convinced Dahlia all the more of the appeal.

Carmine opened the sliding door and entered the room. The sound of the lively voices suddenly stopped.

“Director Uros is here, along with some visitors.”

Inside were ten young magical toolmakers, half of whom seemed to be fresh out of college. The other half looked to be about Dahlia’s age. Every single one of them turned their way and bowed.

Dahlia and Gildo gave a brief greeting, while Volf stayed diagonally behind her. Volf stood out much more than she did, but the gazes of the magical toolmakers were trained mainly on their boss, Uros.

“We just came from looking at the nap lanterns. I see the second-years have gone pale, eh? The lanterns were all flawless.”

For reasons unknown, Uros praised them with a smile. Many of the toolmakers looked relieved, but all Dahlia felt were chills. As for Carmine, he was gently pressing two fingers to his brow.

“Since we have the honor of having guests with us here today, I’d like to give them an enchantment demonstration. Working as you normally would is fine. Prepare some additional spherical glass covers. Right, Chairwoman Dahlia, you’ll be able to see better up close. You and your attendant can sit over there.”

“Thank you.”

“Head Treasurer Diels, why don’t you sit by me? These are costly materials, so I want you to see them used for yourself.”

“It would be a pleasure.”

The magical toolmakers surrounded two large workbenches and, with tense expressions, began preparing for the enchanting process. In front of them were the director and vice-director of the magical toolmaking department; the head treasurer; herself, an outsider; and Volf, a knight. There could have been no more difficult environment to work in. She couldn’t help but feel for the toolmakers.

“Now then, the first step is crystallizing the moonbeam butterfly wings. Do we have any volunteers?” Carmine asked as he placed the glittery blue wings on top of the white paper covering the table. No one spoke up, likely due to nerves from the presence of their superiors and guests.

“Chairwoman Dahlia, have you ever crystallized moonbeam butterfly wings?”

“No, I have not.”

“Would you like to try?” Carmine encouraged her with a smile.

She certainly wanted to, but these moonbeam butterfly wings were very large. Crystallizing one in a single go would require a suitable level of magic.

“What grade of magic is needed to crystallize these wings?”

“I think it should be no problem for grade eleven magic.”

“Then I believe it would be impossible for me—my magic isn’t high enough.”

“What?”

Not only Carmine but the crowd of magical toolmakers all looked at her simultaneously. All the royal magical toolmakers must have very high magic. It was understandable they’d be so shocked to learn that a magical toolmaker who was an adviser to the Order of Beast Hunters would have such low magic.

“Crystallizing doesn’t take much more than channeling magic, now does it? Someone who can should do it,” Uros said as he brought together his pointer and middle finger and placed them on a wing. It was the same gesture she and her father both used, but the surge of strong magic changed the wing’s shape instantly. When crystallized, the powdery, sand-like blue substance looked like a single breath would scatter it through the air.

“Now to demonstrate the enchantment—Carmine.”

“Very well.”

Carmine took a small spoonful of the crystallized wing and dropped it into a beaker filled with a liquid solution. He gave it a quick mix, then held a spherical glass in his left and the beaker in his right. He swiveled the beaker, and the now silvery blue liquid rose up smoothly and floated up into the air in the shape of a flat disk.

Dahlia held her breath and stared at the strong magic, which swayed like a shimmering haze of heat. That navy blue magic wasn’t ribbon-shaped like hers or Oswald’s. It enveloped the glass like a piece of cloth and then shrunk itself around it. Carmine rotated the glass once, then set it gingerly down on a metal tray.

“It’s done.”

“Amazing...!”

The whisper escaped Dahlia’s lips before she could stop it. This was her first time witnessing a cloth-like magic that drew tight in an instant like that. She was sure that sort of enchantment required a lot of magic and high skill.

The glass sphere had been instantly dyed a deep blue. Dahlia was completely blown away by its luster and smoothness. The lanterns she’d seen in the other room had also been beautiful, but this glass had an entirely different beauty. Strong magic still remained on the surface of the glass, which had gentle waves of silver on top of the deep blue.

“Now then, everyone, enchant your own.”

At Uros’s words, the magical toolmakers grabbed their own spherical glass covers and liquid-filled beakers. The toolmakers displayed all types of enchantments, from ones that wrapped the glass up like a small cloth to ones that had magic flow from top to bottom like water, and others that wrapped from bottom to top like thick ribbons.

Boiled Gyoza and Ice

Dahlia returned to the Green Tower with Volf. When they walked into the workshop on the first floor, Volf’s gaze drifted toward the wall.

“The slime’s jar has turned into a glass case.”

The blue slime was in a square glass case about twice the size of its previous jar. The tank’s sturdiness was certified; it was apparently strong enough that it wouldn’t break even if Dahlia were to stand on it.

“That’s right. This way I can water the slime with a dropper from the outside, so I don’t have to open the lid.”

“Did Master Jonas rehouse the slime?”

“No, Ms. Idaea came and did it for me.”

“And that, um, went okay?”

Dahlia was thankful that he avoided saying anything specific and looked away as he asked. Just remembering the blue slime’s escape left her feeling all sorts of embarrassed.

“Yes. Ms. Idaea must have been using body strengthening, since she easily opened the jar and grabbed the blue slime with one hand to move it over. The slime also behaved itself. It didn’t move at all.”

“I’m glad it went well. I guess because she’s used to handling slimes?”

“It jumped around so much with me, so maybe it has a sense for people?”

The two of them both turned to look at the case. The blue slime seemed to be enjoying its new, larger home; it was flattening out its round form right in the middle of it. Inside its body, along with its core, was some other faint red object.

“It’s still holding on to it...?”

“On to what?”

“Well, inside the slime, that red thing, that’s...”

“No, it’s not! That’s the skin of an apple I fed it this morning!” Dahlia said, her voice rising a few more decibels than she’d meant it to.

That red strip wasn’t a piece of her skirt from the other day. It truly was the apple skin she’d given it that morning. Dahlia had theorized that the reason it had melted her skirt was because it wasn’t satisfied with just water—so she had started slowly introducing scraps of vegetables and fruits into its diet.

Besides, slime’s corrosive liquid was surprisingly strong, strong enough to consume what it put in its body in a day. But it wasn’t as if Volf was familiar with slime ecology, so she could see how he would misunderstand.

“Umm, right! We were talking about dancing!” Dahlia said, purposefully making her voice cheerful as she changed the subject.

Volf also gave a light cough and said, “Y-Yeah, that’s right.”

“If we want enough room to dance, we’ll have to either go to the garden or the rooftop.”

Due to the tower’s staircase, there wasn’t much floor space. The rooftop and garden were spacious, but both were outdoors, and it was a bit cold this time of year.

“Dance practice, just the two of us... Hmm, maybe we should have a third party here to watch.”

“Oh, you’re right. We can’t watch ourselves dancing, so we won’t know if we’re doing it correctly...”

She thought dancing in the tower would be fine if they were just trying to get in sync with each other, but the two of them wouldn’t be able to check their posture. They should probably have someone else who would be able to observe them. She agreed with Volf, who seemed to have the same thoughts.

“I can ask someone to watch at my house. We can set something up whenever works with your schedule.”

“In that case, I’ll start by taking one or two lessons with the teacher Gabriella introduced me to. Hmm, since you dance with Lady Altea, you must have the hang of it, right?”

“Yeah, sort of. Though I haven’t been seeing her very often lately.”

Ever since the early summer of this year, Volf had been coming to the Green Tower when both their schedules allowed it. As a result, he’d had fewer opportunities to dance with Altea. However, compared to Dahlia, who hadn’t danced one bit since graduating college, it was all too clear who the better dancer was.

“Right, so then I’ll practice a little beforehand. I wish I could tell you that means we can take it easy today, but we’re having gyoza for dinner, so I’ll need to ask your help with filling and wrapping them.”

“Gladly. This time I won’t fill them up so much that they burst.”

They chatted as they walked up to the second floor, where, on top of the heated low table, Dahlia had left out a silver box and a sketchbook.

“Is that a magically sealed box? You got a new magical tool in there or something?”

“No, they’re fiendfish scales. Vice-Director Carmine sent them to me.”

Dahlia opened the lid of the box to show him. The translucent half-moon scales—white, red, blue, yellow, and green—glittered inside the glass case. She’d been thinking of ways to use them and had left them on the table.

“...They look like jewels.”

Each scale was sparkly and beautiful. They really did resemble gemstones.

“They do. I think they’d look very pretty on a magical lamp or the back of a hand mirror.”

A magical lantern shade made with the fiendfish scales and frosted glass would surely give off a soft, colorful light. As for the back of a hand mirror, they would look great arranged as small flower designs embedded in a black background. As her imagination started to run wild, Volf made an odd expression.

“Volf, are you feeling unwell? Are you tired?”

“No, not really—”

“Please rest. Don’t push yourself. I can make these by myself anyway.”

“I’m fine. It’s just, I didn’t sleep great last night—um, the barracks can get rowdy at night.”

Everyone living in the barracks was unmarried, which likely led to the occasional loud night. The fatigue from being unable to fall asleep with all that noise must have been catching up to Volf.

Then she suddenly remembered something. Maybe she could craft one of those nap lanterns they made in the castle for Volf. Fortunately, she had Uros’s recipe for the solution as well as the moonbeam butterfly wings. Uros had even told her she should feel free to make one for herself or a friend for research purposes.

Christmas didn’t exist in this world, but during the winter festival, people did exchange gifts with family, lovers, and close friends. Common gifts for friends included embroidered handkerchiefs, gloves, and hair bands, but Dahlia was a magical toolmaker. Maybe she could make the nap lantern in secret and give it to Volf—noticing herself almost crack a smile at the sudden idea, she suppressed it immediately. She wanted to keep this a secret until the day she gave it to Volf, to surprise him. From here on out would be a constant battle against her own facial muscles.

“Okay then, let’s get dinner started. I’ve already made the filling for the gyoza, so just help me wrap them.”

Volf accompanied Dahlia into the kitchen.

“These wrappers are thinner.”

Volf held both a very thin wrapper and a normal gyoza wrapper in his hands, looking very perplexed.

“That’s right! Today we’re making boiled gyoza.”

“Boiled gyoza...? So what’s with the two different wrappers?”

“This one’s going in soup, and this one’s going to be the main dish.”

“So we’re having boiled gyoza with boiled gyoza?”

Dahlia chuckled at Volf’s widening eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Yes. It’s a boiled gyoza day.”

There were two bowls of different fillings, with each filling going into a different type of wrapper. On a related note, Dahlia had purchased the wheat dough wrappers at a grocer in the Central District. They were a bit large, but they came in both square and circular shapes, which was just what she needed.

The two of them got to work filling and wrapping the gyoza, chatting as they went. They filled the heaping piles of wrappers with the ingredients, making sure not to overstuff them, and then set them down on a tray. After working diligently for a while, they ended up filling two large trays with dumplings, then returned to the living room.

On top of the heated low table were two compact magical stoves. They placed a pot of hot water on one and a pot of soup on the other to heat up. They placed the trays next to the stoves, brought out the premade snacks and drinks, and with that, their dinner preparations were complete.

“This is rye whiskey, but it’s a brand that’s supposedly not too bitter. Marcella gave it to me.”

Marcella had received several bottles from a distant relative, but he’d recently started cutting back on alcohol, so he’d shared it with Dahlia. For some reason, she found it difficult to bring up that Marcella had said Volf would probably like the flavor, so she kept quiet about that.

Today had been busy, which had left her both a bit tired and thirsty. Since they were having drinks before dinner, she made their first drinks with just one cube of ice each and thinned them with a good amount of water.

“To not utterly failing at dancing. Cheers.”

Volf responded to her self-deprecating toast with a smile. “You’ll be fine, I know it. To the growth of the Rossetti Trading Company. Cheers.”

This was Dahlia’s first time drinking rye whiskey, so she wasn’t sure if she’d watered it down too much. She took a sip and let the drink sit, her mouth filling with its crisp flavor. There was a peculiar strength and bitterness that she attributed to a distinctive flavor of rye. After she swallowed the drink, she let out a sigh, along with the whiskey’s soft, fragrant scent.

“This is delicious...” Volf said, his golden eyes narrowing as he inspected the whiskey bottle. It seemed Marcella had been right on the mark. Dahlia decided that after dinner, she’d forgo diluting it with water and add in a good amount of ice instead.

The pots started audibly bubbling, so they decided it was time to eat.

The gyoza in the pot on the right were filled with minced chicken and a good amount of lightly steamed, blended vegetables and wrapped in the regular gyoza wrappers. They’d been boiled and would be eaten with a variety of dipping sauces.

The gyoza in the pot on the right were filled with minced pork and finely chopped spring onion, and they were made with the thin wrappers and would be eaten with the miso-flavored soup. She’d explained to Volf that both forms were boiled gyoza, but the one on the left was closer to miso wonton soup from her previous life.

First, the two of them brought their chopsticks down on the boiled chicken gyoza. Dahlia had prepared an array of sauces and toppings they could pick from, including grated ginger, ground sesame, diced tomatoes seasoned with salt and pepper, vinegar, savory oil, and fish sauce. She’d chosen a fresh and lean cut of chicken. Concerned that the meat might turn out dry, she’d added minced cabbage and chives and a bit of starch. There was no need to worry about overeating a bit. It was a healthy dish she’d made with her recent waistline in mind.

Dahlia split open a gyoza, added a bit of the grated ginger on top where the white steam was escaping, then took a bite. As the heat filled her mouth, so did the simple flavors of the chicken and vegetables. She chewed, trying to cool down the piping hot dumpling as she did, and the ginger came in with extra flavor. The simplicity of these tastes was something she’d never tire of. She could see herself eating very many of these.

Volf ate his first gyoza without adding anything on top. He closed his eyes and chewed deliberately, which was his usual way of enjoying delicious food. She had to guess the gyoza was to his liking. But Dahlia had a theory. In order to test it out, she filled a deep bowl with the gyoza and soup from the pot on the left, then surreptitiously slid it in front of Volf.

“Regular gyoza are tasty, but they’re delicious boiled too...”

“They sure are. Why don’t you try the ones in the soup now?”

For the filling, Dahlia had chosen fatty pork and onions that had a fair bit of sharpness to them. She’d made the soup stock by adding together the green parts of the spring onions, leftover vegetables, and some pork fat, then finished it off with some miso. The plump gyoza floating on top of the soup were visually appealing in themselves. The small size of the wonton-shaped gyoza meant Dahlia could easily pop a whole delectable piece in her mouth. When she bit into the gyoza, her mouth was flooded with savory juices and the sweetness of the fat.

Next she sampled the soup. It had come out pretty well and had a slightly strong miso flavor. She had a feeling Volf would prefer these over the chicken ones. Wanting to know if her guess was correct, she furtively looked at Volf. Uncharacteristically, he was gulping the gyoza down, barely pausing to chew. Once he’d finished eating all the gyoza, he picked up his bowl with both hands and drank the remaining soup. He exhaled wordlessly, then slid his glistening golden eyes over to look at her.

“This is a trap...” he said.

What a thing to accuse someone of. Wasn’t it a crime to trap someone with food?

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Now I’ll never be able to leave the Green Tower...”

By all rights, a trap to ensnare Volf would have to be something very large and sturdy. But if he could be trapped with miso soup and boiled gyoza instead, that was a much cheaper way to do it. While Volf had a hand over his forehead and eyes in anguish, Dahlia poured another hefty serving of soup and gyoza into his bowl.

“I look forward to your valuable labor assisting me with crafting magical tools. I’ll feed you three square meals a day.”

“Wow, you can’t beat those wages...!” Volf responded with a straight face, making Dahlia burst out laughing.

But what she asked next came as a shock to herself as well.

“Volf, how much longer are you going to serve as a Scarlet Armor?”

“I haven’t decided, but most people stay on until they’re about thirty or thirty-five years old.”

“...I suppose it’s a difficult job to keep up for long.”

“My seniors say they start to feel it taking a toll on their knees and shoulders. I also get warned that my knees’ll fail me early since I’m always jumping and leaping around.”

In that case, you should eat plenty of soup with chicken gristle—she was just about to tell him that, then stopped herself. If Volf started having issues with his knee joints, then wouldn’t he retire earlier from his dangerous work as a Scarlet Armor, and from the Order of Beast Hunters? If that happened, then he’d stop going out on expeditions, and he’d stay in the capital, where they’d be able to see each other whenever they wanted...

“Dahlia?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, I think the whiskey has gone to my head...”

It seemed that because she’d started drinking on an empty stomach, even that small amount of alcohol was already having an effect. Still, even though she was tipsy, that had been a terribly thoughtless thing to imagine. She knew full well Volf’s talent as a knight and how seriously he took his duty—she was probably just anxious about her debut, causing her to think selfishly.

“Are you sure you’re not too tired? You’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“I’m fine. I make sure to get my rest. Okay, let’s eat up before it gets cold!”

Dahlia didn’t want Volf to worry. She answered him with a smile, then filled her own bowl with an ample serving of gyoza.

Soon after, each and every one of the gyoza that had been piled high on the trays made its way into the pair’s stomachs.

After the two of them had eaten more than their fill of gyoza, they relaxed over some drinks. The alcohol had become a little too lukewarm. Adding ice wouldn’t chill it immediately, and as the ice changed the temperature of the alcohol, it also changed the flavor—so Dahlia reflected as she poured the drink over ice and stirred it up. She almost wished she could enchant the stirrer itself with ice magic to help chill the drink faster.

“Something on your mind?” Volf asked.

“I was just thinking, since it takes time for ice to cool down a drink, it’d be great if I could add ice magic to the stirrer to help chill the alcohol faster. But considering the price of the materials for the stick and what I’d need to enchant it with, it would cost too much to be a very profitable product...”

“I bet you could make it work if you marketed it to nobles.”

The aristocracy’s sense of money was certainly leagues away from commoners’. They might actually view such a thing as a novelty. Besides, even if she just made it as a test product, the two of them could at least make use of it.

“What if you chill the glass itself?”

“That’s a possibility. Actually, my father once tried doing that and ended up freezing the entire contents of a cup. Though I think he had just drunkenly stuck an ice crystal in it.”

“Well...can’t drink it that way until it melts, huh?”

She decided not to tell him about how her father had returned home with bright red, nearly frostbitten hands, and she’d given him a potion without saying a word. She didn’t want Volf to see this as an example of the apple not falling far from the tree.

“There is a magical tool known as a cooling tray. Have you ever used one, Volf?”

“Oh yeah, you mean the one that looks like a deep tray with indentations to put cups in?”

“Yes, that’s the one. It’s a magical tool that’s a tray with an ice crystal inside. It cools the glasses from underneath.”

“We had one of those in the squad, but since everyone drinks at a fast pace, the alcohol was always gone before it could be chilled. It’s been put away and never used again since then...”

“So then what do you use to chill your drinks?”

“We fill a big tub with water, use an ice crystal to fill it with ice, and then stick the bottles of alcohol in there. But sometimes that’s still not enough.”

“I think I’m getting a better understanding of the squad’s alcohol consumption...”

Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised. This was the Order of Beast Hunters, after all. When it came to drinking, they were all kingsnakes and sea serpents. A cooling tray would do nothing for them.

“Right,” said Volf, “speaking of ice, do you like ice crystal patterns?”

“I do. How about you?”

“Yeah, they’re pretty. When I was a kid, my mother used to draw ice crystals with magic on the glass of windows, and I’d stare at them until they melted.”

Volf had his gaze cast slightly downward as he recalled those moments from his childhood. Those ice crystals must have been a cherished memory of his. The two of them were silent for a while. A drop of water from the glass moistened her fingers.

“So, Dahlia, are you nervous about your debut?”

“I am. Honestly, I really don’t want to be the center of attention... I’m just not suited for it...”

“I’ll be honest too. I want to wear my glasses to the ball if I can. I want to stay away from the other women, and I don’t want to cause any additional problems for you...”

The two of them held nothing back as they spoke.

Volf would undoubtedly stand out more than her. And there was the chance that other women would hassle him.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Volf.”

“Don’t be. This is a debut for me too, in a way. I’ve always avoided balls and banquets, so I was just thinking it was probably time for me to learn how these things go.”

Volf was a member of the nobility, and his brother Guido was soon to become a marquis. There were probably many things he had to prepare for. In any case, Dahlia was very happy that she’d be taking her first step toward getting her barony with Volf at her side.

“Then, this is a bit like our debut, isn’t it?”

“...Our debut...”

After a few seconds of silence, there was a loud clattering sound. The last bit of ice in the pail had melted and dropped to the bottom.

“Oh, we’ve run out of ice. I’ll go get more. Keep drinking without me, Volf.”

“Sure, thanks.”

As he watched Dahlia head toward the kitchen, Volf drained the rest of his glass. He then caught sight of the silver magically sealed box that had been moved to a shelf along the wall, which contained the gemlike fiendfish scales, courtesy of Carmine.

When Dahlia had opened up the box, he’d thought they looked like jewels meant for placing in a bracelet, and before he knew it, he’d found himself searching for Carmine’s colors—ink black and indigo gray. Neither was present, but even if they had been, he doubted Dahlia would have caught on to the feelings they would have expressed.

Also, what Dahlia had said earlier. Among nobles, calling something “our debut” had the strong implication of announcing an engagement. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to point that out to her. Although he knew that wasn’t what Dahlia had intended to say at all, her unfamiliarity with the language of nobles was a very dangerous thing. Thankfully it was just him she’d said it to, but what if she said it to someone who would take it the wrong way?

He’d run away from aristocratic society, but now he had to learn its ways—not only because he wanted to protect her but also because he wanted to be able to support her in any way he could. Also, he wanted to learn about magical tools, so he could better understand what she spoke about. Then, maybe he would someday be able to help her craft her tools, by her side...

“And I’d get three square meals a day... Oh hell, I’m way too drunk!” the black-haired young man cried, chastising himself as he flopped face down onto the table.

Slime-Formed Boots and Squires

Under a sparse cover of clouds, Dahlia and Marcella, her bodyguard for the day, arrived at the second section of the castle’s magical toolmaking department. That day, most of the squad members, including Volf, were at the training grounds carrying out a joint practice maneuver with the Second Knights’ Regiment. Apparently, some members of the Second Regiment had even started accompanying the Order on subjugation missions. In the past, a hydra had appeared on the nation’s border, so perhaps their training also doubled as preparation for times of crisis.

“Why, if it isn’t Master Dahlia and Marcella!”

A familiar voice called to them on their way to the meeting room. Briskly walking down the hallway toward them in full armor was Bernigi. Following behind him were the middle-aged knight Dahlia had met the other day in the department and an unfamiliar white-haired knight. Before Dahlia could even say hello, Bernigi tapped on his combat boot.

“Take a gander at this prototype Lord Carmine made for me—a slime-formed boot. He made it to my size, and it’s so light and easy to move in!”

The shiny, dark gray boot was completely seamless. It reminded Dahlia of the synthetic leather boots from her previous life. Carmine had written her a letter informing her that he’d completed the prototype, but she was surprised to see they were already so functional. He wasn’t the vice-director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department for nothing.

“Excuse me, if I may have a word—”

Before Bernigi could continue, the white-haired knight pushed his way in front of him. He was an old man who was quite slender but towering and broad-shouldered. A deep scar, perhaps a remnant from a fight with a monster, ran from his forehead over his closed left eye and down to his cheek. His one scarless azure eye was trained on Dahlia. Just as she thought maybe she should introduce herself first, the knight knelt before her on his left knee.

“My name is Leonzio Lanza. Master Rossetti, you have my deepest gratitude.”

Dahlia had no idea why this man whom she’d just met was thanking her. Just as she was about to ask, the man’s gaze softened.

“I’d been lamenting the fact that I would never be able to wield my lance again, but thanks to this prosthetic arm, Wind Gripper, these hands can hold it once again. And—for the first time, I was able to hold my grandchild.”

He clenched his sky-blue prosthetic hand, then opened it up. That mechanism was the result of the cooperation between the Scalfarotto Arms Works and the castle’s magical toolmakers and artisans. She wanted nothing more than for everyone involved to see the broad smile on the face of the knight before her.

“I am so glad to hear that. I only had a helping role in its production, so I very much encourage you to tell that to the magical toolmakers and artisans in charge of making it. I think they would be happy to hear it.”

“I see. Then I will make sure to tell each and every one. And to express my gratitude to everyone, with this old body of mine, I will extinguish all those years of uselessness by serving as a knight in the Order of Beast Hunters, where I will fight against monsters until my dying breath!”

Hold on, please don’t start talking about dying while fighting monsters. Hadn’t the man just been talking about finally being able to hold his grandchild? Dahlia was fretting over how to dissuade him when Bernigi tugged on his white beard.

“I’d like to return to the squad, but that hinges on Grato letting me take the test...”

“Oh, there’s a test?”

“Many a knight wishes to return to the squad, you see. Since we’ve retired once already, we may need to start by retaking the enlistment exam. And even if we’re exempt from the exam, we have to join as squires for six months after reenlisting.”

“A squire...?”

Dahlia wondered if he’d meant a mentor role, but she didn’t want to correct him.

“As long as I don’t have to take the written test, I’m golden!” Goffredo, wearing his magical prosthetic arm, laughed just as boisterously as he had when she’d first met him.

Volf had told Dahlia that a knight’s marks from their college chivalric studies made up half the score for the pen-and-paper test for the Order of Beast Hunters. The other half of the score was measured by testing their knowledge of the kingdom’s laws, geography, and monsters. Recently, more monster variants had started appearing in the Kingdom of Ordine, so she wondered if they would be added to the exam. It sounded hard to keep up with remembering them all.

“Eh? Why don’t you just ask one of the current squad members to teach you if you need help with the written exam?” asked Bernigi.

“Can’t I just ask Grato?”

Was it good or bad that none of the Order of Beast Hunters were accompanying her today? She was seriously worried for Captain Grato’s position as captain. Dahlia looked behind her and saw Marcella also looking a little solemn.

Come to think of it, Marcella had told her how he used to receive bad marks during dictation exercises in primary school due to his poor handwriting. That reminded Dahlia of the time when she’d skipped a row on her answer sheet during a written exam, and another time when she’d realized too late that she’d crafted the wrong magical tool during her practical exam. Everyone had one or two bad memories of taking an exam—or ten, or twenty. She was certain of that.

A long while later, what the squad members of the Order of Beast Hunters had to say about Bernigi and the other knights could be summed up like so: “Squires, my ass!”

“Welcome, Chairwoman Rossetti! What a pleasure to have you here!”

As soon as Dahlia entered the conference room, a young man with reddish-brown eyes came running up to her. He was the toolmaker she’d met during her prior visit to the first section of the department, the one who’d been working on leather.

“I was told you would be visiting us today, so I got the black wyvern armor all ready to show you!”

Dahlia wasn’t sure if the piece of equipment on display by the wall could actually be called armor. The knights that had followed her in from the hallway were also raising their eyebrows at it. It was a complete set with a helmet, full body armor, and boots, all made of sturdy-looking, thick black leather. But its appearance gave rise to her uncertainty whether it could really be called armor.

It loosely resembled a wyvern, but what was the purpose of those spikes running from the head all the way down the back? Also, she could understand the small wings, which she could only assume were decorative, but wouldn’t that long, jagged tail get in the way of fighting? Not to mention, people might step on it.

“As you suggested, I tried using as much of a black wyvern as I could and altering it as little as possible! It’s decently strong, and it has a fairly formidable look to it too, don’t you think?”

“Y-Yes, it certainly does...” she responded, keeping her face in check as she answered the toolmaker, who was grinning from ear to ear. She wasn’t about to tell him that it didn’t look like armor but rather exactly like the monster costumes of her previous life.

“The armor of this age is remarkably cutting edge! This looks magnificent!” Bernigi cried, evidently enthused. After receiving permission from the toolmaker, he touched the shoulders and the wings on the back to get a closer look.

“You certainly don’t see something like this every day...”

The azure-eyed knight’s words and facial expression were impossible to read. Naturally, it wasn’t an easy thing to describe.

“The armor has considerably strong reinforcement magic applied, but I made the gloves and shoes especially durable. I heard there are some who dislike or feel it a hindrance in battle when enchantments are applied at the fingertips, so I used wyvern claws to enchant the backs of the gloves and the toes of the boots. They’re strong enough to break through rock!”

The equipment had both high defensive and offensive capabilities. If he improved the tail to make it easier to move around in and dyed it red, maybe the Scarlet Armors could wear it? No, that still leaves a good chance it would attract a wyvern, so never mind.

“Unfortunately, Captain Grato has been too busy to try it on yet... I truly believe this will be effective in luring other wyverns.”

Apparently, the toolmaker had taken Gildo’s suggestion the other day and run with it, making the armor in Grato’s size. The magical toolmaker before her sounded very disappointed, but Dahlia understood the captain’s feelings. Putting this on to act as bait was the last thing she would volunteer to do.

“Now this is a great, powerful piece of armor. I’d try it on if it were my size,” remarked Goffredo.

“We don’t have the captain’s Ash Hand, so we wouldn’t be able to intercept the wyvern, though,” Leonzio pointed out.

“Think a magical tool could be made into a sword like the Ash Hand? Or no, I need to train my body so that I can fell a wyvern myself...”

The two knights with prosthetic arms discussed armor, swords, and themselves. If only Volf were here, he could have joined in their discourse on magical swords. Unfortunately, it was beyond Dahlia’s capabilities to create a real magical sword—that was to say, a magical tool with strong magic like the Ash Hand. Despite her best attempts at the Crimson Lotus Blade she’d made for Volf, the sword she’d enchanted merely gave off an illumination effect with fire magic. The sword she was making next, for Jonas, would actually be enchanted by Leone, guildmaster of the Merchants, who was much more suited to the task.

Dahlia wanted to make a more powerful magical sword for Volf’s sake, but that was still a distant dream for someone with her knowledge and magical power. There wasn’t much she could do but continue devoting herself to growing as a magical toolmaker.

Suddenly, she realized that Marcella, her attendant-slash-bodyguard, had been standing silently behind her this whole time. She turned around to look at him. This was his first visit to the Royal Magical Toolmaking wing, and he was surrounded by people he didn’t know. Surely he was nervous. But when she turned to look at him, he was staring intently at the black leather armor. His maroon eyes were fixed on Bernigi, who had a very serious expression as he stretched out the long tail to inspect it.

“Umm... So, Marcella, what do you think?” she asked him to the side.

He responded with a smile and a voice he couldn’t quite keep at the level of a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything cooler...um, ma’am!”

“Thank you all for coming here today.”

While they were viewing the black wyvern armor, Carmine entered the room.

“Chairwoman Dahlia, these are the slime-formed shoes I told you about the other day. They are made of scrap leather, a mixture of blue and yellow slime, and various liquid solutions.”

On top of the table sat a pair of dark gray combat boots as well as leather of the same color that hadn’t been turned into shoes yet.

“Please, feel free to pick it up and examine it,” Carmine said with a smile. Dahlia decided to do just that.

She touched a boot with her fingers, and though the surface was a bit coarse, there were no bumps. It had a leathery sheen, and besides the sole of the boot, she saw no other evidence of seams. When she picked it up, it was surprisingly light. It had to have been half the weight of the Order of Beast Hunters’ combat boots. Then, she flipped it over and, upon doing so, found the sole was the only part similar to a regular shoe.

“It has excellent waterproof properties, and it even offers some protection against fire. It returns to its shape easily even when warped, and it won’t crack as often as leather normally does.”

“It’s amazing! The squad will be ecstatic to have water-repellent boots that are this light,” Dahlia exclaimed.

“I appreciate you saying so. Their durability and rate of deterioration are still under review, but some squad members have been using them during training. They are also being tested to see how they hold up to repeated washings. Although, the increased waterproof properties have made it so the insides get stuffy, so the use of drying insoles is a must.”

Dahlia’s drying insoles would probably come to be sold as a set with these boots. She could just imagine Ivano’s smile.

“Here is a summary of materials used and their proportions. That’s a copy, so please feel free to keep it.”

The thick stack of papers described all the experimental results in fine detail. How many different ratios of different materials had he tested? Dahlia had done her fair share of experimenting with different ratios when developing magical tools, but never to this extent. This level was probably normal for the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department. It was fascinating to read about the ratios of powdered slime and the composition of the liquid mixtures used.

“Regrettably, with using scrap leather, we don’t know what monster all the leather originally came from, so we cannot exactly say the boots are all uniform...” the magical toolmaker said disappointedly as he picked up the leather.

“Right now, we have no choice but to let the lower standard serve as a baseline,” Carmine said, taking out a sheet of paper. Listed on the paper were figures regarding the strength of the shoes. Dahlia didn’t know what kind of strength they required to be functional, but there looked to be a ten percent difference. The fact that she’d thought they were strong enough illustrated her ignorance of combat boots.

“Well, I think this boot is a fine product. It’s light and keeps the water out. And it fits like a glove,” Bernigi said. He tapped the heel of his boot against the floor, making the people in the room smile at the light sound.

“That’s because they’re wholecut boots customized for the wearer, so they shouldn’t slip off as often as the others.”

“Personally, I like my shoes to be a little roomier. My feet usually swell on expeditions,” said Goffredo.

“They swell, you say...? Then ideally we would take your measurements from when they’re swollen.”

“What if you measure them in the evening, and also wear thick socks when you’re getting them fitted?”

“Ah, very good. Let’s consider if we can adjust the fit with the insoles as well.”

Fitting well and swelling were two very important points to consider. Carmine noted down all the knights’ suggestions as they gave them.

“If they’re durable, the entire squad’ll want them, but I’m sure these boots are expensive, aren’t they?”

“How much do the current boots cost? I’m afraid I’m uninformed, as I never paid much attention to the price...”

“Grato said the regular ones run up to as much as eight gilt silver. The ones for people who need larger sizes or alterations cost a bit more,” the azure-eyed knight said, answering Carmine’s question. Expectedly, they didn’t run cheap. But for shoes made of thick leather and enchanted to raise their durability, it was only reasonable.

“How long does one pair of shoes last?”

“That entirely depends on the person, but when I was in the Scarlet Armors, a pair would last me a year. Even if they got torn up or soaked with water, I’d have them repaired and keep using them.”

“Back in my youth, the soles of my shoes kept falling off from kicking monsters. My seniors would get mad and tell me to fight in a way that didn’t cost so much to repair.”

Bernigi laughed as he recounted a memory so heartbreaking that Dahlia sincerely wished that the knights did not have to fight with the budget in addition to risking their lives fighting monsters. The Rossetti Trading Company provided a number of magical tools to the squad, so perhaps they should review their prices.

“Um, regarding the cost—”

“Then I’d like to discuss—”

The moment she spoke up, so did Carmine. She turned to him to find he was already looking at her with his indigo-gray eyes opened wide.

“Master Dahlia, Lord Carmine, I appreciate the thought, but there’s no need to worry about the costs. I hear the squad got a surplus budget in the fall. Besides, the Order of Beast Hunters have always had a fair amount of freedom in using the monsters they fell, and lately they’ve been bringing more materials back.”

“Sir Bernigi is right. I heard they made out pretty well with the carriage full of forest serpents they brought back. Those work pretty good for treating an old man’s shoulder pain...”

“When I was talking to the squad, some people started drooling the moment I mentioned forest serpent. I suppose it’s time for even the Green King to fall from its throne.”

Dahlia was relieved to hear it. The squad members had mentioned that forest serpent went great with sweet sauce. Dahlia had also once tried adding dried forest serpent Volf had given her into soup, which had added a nice richness to the flavor. It really was too bad for the serpents, but apparently they were starting to become a luxury food item.

“By the way, Lord Carmine, how much will these new boots actually run for?”

“Perhaps about half the price. They can be made with scrap leather, which brings down the cost of materials. Also, if we make the shoes in the same pattern and then train the department’s toolmakers, the enchantment and processing shouldn’t take much time. It depends on the durability and feedback from the wearers, but if all goes well, we can transfer the process out of the current workshop and bring it in-house.”

“What...?”

Something in Carmine’s eloquent explanation bothered Dahlia. She couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling.

“Excuse me, Vice-Director Carmine, won’t you be working on the development and manufacturing as collaborators?”

“Oh, of course, since the idea came from you, you will be named as a developer, and you will be duly compensated—”

“Oh, there’s no need for that, since I only provided the suggestion. What I meant was, won’t you be working with the workshop that currently makes the boots?”

“But why? If we can move everything within the castle, it will shorten the delivery time and bring down costs. Isn’t that better for the Order of Beast Hunters?”

Carmine gave her a very curious look. The others kept silent. As an adviser to the Order of Beast Hunters, Dahlia probably shouldn’t have been prioritizing the needs of the shoemakers, but she’d made up her mind to say her piece.

“I believe it would cause many problems for the workshop currently in charge of making the shoes if they were to suddenly lose work.”

In order to manufacture durable boots for the Order of Beast Hunters, they needed artisans who knew the ins and outs of processing and sewing leather. Moreover, a workshop doing regular business with the castle was sure to have a fair number of artisans.

Their families and the people connected to the workshop had livelihoods they needed to sustain. She couldn’t bear to have that all be taken from them unexpectedly for the convenience of those above them. Also, they had to take into account the artisans’ technical skill.

“I think artisans who have been making shoes for so long can give their opinion on the leather used for the slime-formed shoes and how it compares to what they usually use. Maybe they can even come up with other shapes or ways to improve the shoes at the time of production. Experienced artisans have cultivated years of knowledge and skill. I think it would be a huge loss if they were forced to cease using those skills. Wouldn’t working in collaboration with those artisans serve to produce an even better product?”

An artisan specializing in one task would find it difficult to apply those skills to other work. Also, it was near impossible to restore that acquired technique after taking a long break from it. Even with the help of specification documents, there was a high chance their skills would never return to the level required of an artisan.

Dahlia wanted them to make use of the artisans’ knowledge and skills in manufacturing the slime-formed leather and shoes, and to continue their business with the workshop—she tried her best to explain that to Carmine and everyone else in the room. Unfortunately, no one spoke up in agreement. They simply stared at her. Perhaps they thought she was being naive, or perhaps she hadn’t explained herself clearly. Her nervousness refused to dissipate even after she finished speaking.

Then Carmine spoke up. “Chairwoman Dahlia, thank you for your valuable input. I was so eager to start development that I overlooked that very important point...”

“I apologize. Since this project utilizes leather, about which I’m knowledgeable, I became conceited. I will try to put away my pride and learn from others...”

“No, um, hold on...”

Carmine had thanked her, and now the leather specialist was apologizing. Was Carmine thanking her for pointing out he hadn’t taken into account the workshop workers’ livelihoods, and was the leather expert saying he would consult with the shoemakers? No, she felt like there was another nuance to their words.

As her confusion intensified, Bernigi nodded deeply. “In order to create the best possible product, we must seek instruction from those wise in their trade, regardless of status or position in business...? I see. What an admirable way of thinking.”

Wait a minute, I don’t recall saying anything so profound. Her thought had been to suggest getting input from the artisans and working with them, and to make it so they wouldn’t lose their work—Dahlia struggled to organize all the thoughts swimming in her head, then said, “No, I just, I thought if everyone could give their input, we’d have more colleagues to work with...”

“Colleagues—I see. Let’s invite the artisans from the shoemaker workshop to discuss the slime-formed leather. Afterward, all involved parties can give their input as equals, and then we can work on manufacturing the shoes together.”

Carmine had summed things up perfectly. Dahlia smiled. His words seemed to spread, and one by one, everyone’s expressions relaxed, and the conversation turned back to shoes and armor. At some point, they decided on when to invite the shoemakers to discuss everything together. Dahlia was certain this was the way to ensure quality boots for the Order of Beast Hunters.

Interlude: The Shoemaker’s Workshop and the Goddess of the Artisans

“Master!”

An apprentice burst through the doors of the workshop as if they could not open fast enough.

“What is it this time? Is the price of leather up again? Or did one of the workers throw out their backs?”

The D’Alessio Workshop had been the main manufacturer of combat boots for the royal knights and Order of Beast Hunters since the time of the shoemaker’s great-grandfather. But recently, unfortunate news had been coming in nonstop: the cost of leather was rising, artisans were collapsing to meet impossible deadlines, and some workshops had been forced to shutter their doors after becoming subcontractors for larger companies. These were the stories heard time and time again.

Beautiful shoes sold well, and big companies and ateliers threw their weight around—perhaps that was just the way of the times. As the shoemaker reflected on that, his winded apprentice finally continued.

“S-Somebody came from the castle with a letter addressed to you! The messenger is waiting outside...”

“Right, I’ll go now.”

As he headed for the front door of the workshop, he wiped his grease-stained fingers with a towel. Outside, an envoy in a black suit was holding a red cloth, on which lay a large envelope.

“My apologies for disturbing your work. I’ve come to deliver a letter to Sansol D’Alessio from the royal Order of Beast Hunters and the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department. Your reply is requested.”

“Thank you for your trouble. I will read it now.”

The elegant, white, gold-bordered envelope bore no resemblance to the usual purchase orders he received. Sansol stood up straight and accepted the envelope with both hands. The letter was jointly signed by Captain Grato Bartolone of the Order of Beast Hunters and Vice-Director Carmine Zanardi of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department. Penned along with those distinguished names was an invitation to the castle.

The letter requested that he choose a date agreeable to him out of three provided, but he suspected a meeting with two members of the nobility who held high positions even by the castle’s standards would hold nothing agreeable for a common shoemaker. He’d been prepared for this to happen eventually, though it had come earlier than he’d expected. Sansol composed his expression as best he could and gave his reply to the black-suited envoy.

“I gratefully accept this invitation to the castle. I will come at the earliest date.”

The envoy repeated his words back to him to confirm, then left after giving a customary farewell.

“Master, um, did something happen?” his apprentice asked with concern as Sansol watched the envoy leave.

“Nothing you need to worry about. I was just summoned to the castle.”

“The castle? Is it about our shoes? Don’t tell me—was there something wrong with the shoes I sewed the other day?”

“Of course not. I checked everything, didn’t I? I won’t know what they have to say until I go there. I’ll need to go rent some clothes...”

As he spoke, Sansol looked up at the old sign above the door to the workshop. Reflected in his deep green eyes were the faded words “D’Alessio Workshop” and the logo of lace-up boots. He’d looked up at that sign countless times since he was a child. Now, he would most likely be the one to take it down. The thought of it sent a stinging pain deep into his chest.

Sansol had spent a lot of time in the workshop ever since his youth. Not only his father and grandfather but all the artisans were masters of their craft. For someone whose dream was to become a shoemaker, it was a privileged environment to be raised in. However, the wish that he hadn’t been born into a family of shoemakers had crossed his mind dozens—no, hundreds of times.

When it came to shoemaking, especially when it came to making boots for the Order of Beast Hunters, the number of steps involved in making a single pair were many. After making up the wooden molds for the squad, he drew up the paper pattern, then reproduced the pattern onto leather, taking into account the parts, size, and thickness of the leather. Next came cutting the leather, sewing the upper, assembling the shape, and attaching the sole. That was the process in a nutshell, but making the wooden mold, tanning the leather until it was uniform, and polishing the finished product required a lot of skill.

Moreover, it wasn’t simply a matter of making the shoes. He also needed to make adjustments based on the squad members’ fighting styles and their own preferences. Changes had to be made to the wooden mold, the sizing had to be checked with a trial shoe, stiffeners needed to be applied to the leather, and imperfections had to be mended as much as possible—Sansol had had to memorize each and every step of the process.

Due to his poor memory, it had been quite the struggle for him. He’d been scolded constantly and struggled to remember ever being told he’d done a good job. Everything he’d made had either been defective or had needed to be redone. However, this was to be expected. The D’Alessio Workshop did not allow for any shoddy or slapdash work.

The combat boots for the squad members who risked their life fighting monsters had to be perfect. If the boots didn’t fit perfectly or there was the slightest tear in a seam, it could spell disaster.

The shoes were also worn through at a shocking rate. After a long expedition, the squad brought back a mountain of shoes that needed repairs. The shoemakers worked meticulously as they made and repaired pair after pair of shoes. Every day was the same.

As a child, Sansol couldn’t stand the predictable monotony. I’ll find another line of work. There’s plenty to do in the capital, he began to think to himself.

One day, he and his father went out to do some shopping, which didn’t happen often. A road they were about to cross was flooded with people where a long funeral procession was passing through the crowd. On the side of the carriages was the image of a dragon behind two crossed blades—the emblem of the Order of Beast Hunters.

It was a mass funeral procession for knights of the Order. More than ten black coffins surrounded by flowers were borne atop the long line of carriages that passed by. Following behind the procession were horses of the Order and the carriages of the bereaved families. Most of the carriages had their windows shut, but if they were open, they showed only people with handkerchiefs to their eyes or hands covering their faces. In the last carriage, Sansol briefly caught sight of a mother clutching an innocently laughing baby to her chest. The baby was even younger than Sansol’s youngest relative.

Members of the squad who died in battle against monsters often suffered severe injuries; thus, many of the coffins were nailed shut so that not even the families of the deceased could see their faces. He heard some men nearby talking about how most of the time, their corpses never even made it back from expedition.

After the carriages passed by, there followed a long line of people carrying flowers. Some were crying, some were expressing their gratitude aloud, and some were saying prayers for the deceased. A roar of voices resounded like a rain shower. Voices of the villagers who had been saved from the red bears that had attacked them; of the people whose town had been taken back from a gang of goblins; of children whose parents had been devoured by sea serpents, now slain; of parents whose sons had been frozen in ice by bicorns and left in their nests, but who had now been given a proper burial—all feats done by the knights of the Order of Beast Hunters.

Sansol and his father stayed until after the last person in the procession passed by in front of them and the crowd dispersed. His father was silent. Sansol couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Even though Sansol had heard stories of the Order of Beast Hunters and of monsters, their experience had always been far removed from his own. It wasn’t something he could see or hear personally. Even that day didn’t make him feel any closer to it. But what he’d seen, what he’d heard that day—he abhorred it. Still, it was thanks to that experience that he saw the path he should follow as thick as a shoelace.

The coffins on the carriages, the trailing funeral procession, the line of people carrying flowers—Sansol wanted to reduce those numbers even by one. In order to do that, he wanted to make sturdy boots that would protect the feet of the Order of Beast Hunters.

Sansol couldn’t face monsters himself, but this was the beginning of his modest battle. As clumsy as he was, it wasn’t until he was twenty-nine years old that he finally became accustomed to all 250 steps of shoemaking. Then, a dozen or so years later, Sansol took over as the head of the D’Alessio Workshop. The first year he became the head shoemaker, Sansol brought everyone in the workshop to see the Order of Beast Hunters’ funeral procession.

Now, after many days that had passed unchanging, he was headed for the castle. That morning, his wife was unsparing as she looked over his appearance, chiding him for his hair, combed only twice, his untrimmed beard, and his crooked collar.

“It’s not every day you get to go to the castle. Make sure you take a good look around. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Right. See you soon.”

Sansol wore a suit he’d rented from a shop. He felt at odds with the finely woven dark gray outfit.

“Pops—I mean, master! I shined these for you.”

The leather shoes were a pair he wore for special occasions, ones he’d made himself. They were made of crimson cattle leather that had been thrice dyed dark brown. He was confident that the glossy pair of shoes were comparable to something a noble would wear. The one who had polished them so he could almost see himself in them was his own son—no, his senior apprentice.

“Thanks. I’ll go show them off at the castle!”

Sansol raised a hand in farewell and then boarded the carriage with a smile. His body rocked along with the movements of the carriage, and eventually, he passed under the massive stone gates of the castle. He was then guided to the meeting room in the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing.

How many years had passed since he’d last been here? The last time must have been when his late father had brought him here to introduce him as the next head of the workshop. The room hadn’t changed, but this time, his heart wasn’t pounding nearly as fast as it had back then.

Sansol hadn’t been able to bring his own apprentice—the next head of the D’Alessio Workshop—to the Order of Beast Hunters’ wing.

“Welcome to the Order of Beast Hunters. It’s been a while, Mr. D’Alessio. Thanks for all you’ve done for us.”

Captain Bartolone, the exalted “Sorcerer of Ash” who reduced monsters to cinders with his magical sword, had thanked him for his efforts. Sansol responded that the compliment was undeserved, but he was unable to look straight into the reddish eyes of the man sitting across from him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am the vice-director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department, Carmine Zanardi.”

Following the vice-director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department, he was also introduced to the same department’s leather specialist and a clerk from the Order of Beast Hunters. From the aromatic tea that was served, he was able to divine that he wasn’t here because they were displeased with their shoe delivery, but the tea might as well have been flavorless for how much he could taste of it.

“The reason you’ve been summoned here today is to discuss some new combat boots.”

On top of the table were a sample of tanned leather and a pair of shiny boots. They were combat boots for the Order of Beast Hunters. Next, he was given a document. Sansol scowled as he read it.

Slime-formed shoes—boots made by combining scrap leather and slime, then enchanted with magic.

Is this a joke? Using scrap leather to make the shoes for the Order of Beast Hunters? If they wanted to lower costs, there was a right and wrong way to do it. However, after reading through the document and holding the boots in his hands, his anger disappeared. The shoes were lighter than the current ones, and they could be made heavier by adding metal if so desired, in addition to which the slime-infused leather was water repellent. The shoes were great at absorbing shock and they didn’t require much in terms of maintenance. He’d thought the scrap leather had been a cost-reduction measure, but considering the method and the enchantments required, a single pair might even cost more.

Instead, the reason for the change was simply to create shoes with the squad members’ safety and comfort in mind. That point, he could understand. Compared to his great-grandfather’s generation, the current knights in the Order of Beast Hunters had larger builds and also bigger shoe sizes. Although that upped the amount of leather and sewing materials used, he kept the cost of the shoes as low as possible, but his effort was not always recognized. Still, he’d come this far without sacrificing his pride as a toolmaker. Though this was disappointing, he had no regrets. These new shoes should make expeditions and combat easier for the squad. Personally, he wasn’t too keen on the shape of the reinforced metal at the tip of the shoe—but it seemed the time for change had come.

Vice-Director Zanardi stood up and said frankly, “Mr. D’Alessio, I must apologize.”

This is the part where he tells me they’re going to cease doing business with us. Sansol calmly awaited the vice-director’s next words.

“Due to my shortsightedness, I had the notion that if we could bring the production of the combat boots into the castle, we would be able to reduce the business we do with your workshop. If production within the castle proved feasible, then we’d be able to reduce the delivery time as well as the costs.”

“Huh...?” Sansol sputtered inanely, not having expected that the conversation would take this turn.

Wasn’t it only reasonable for the castle to want to reduce costs and delivery times? He could understand why Carmine would apologize for reducing the business the castle did with the D’Alessio Workshop, or even ceasing it completely, but he just could not wrap his head around why Carmine had called himself shortsighted. It would be impossible for Sansol’s workshop to make shoes that could be called magical tools anyway. While he was unable to form a response, Carmine kept his indigo-gray eyes homed in on him.

“The Order of Beast Hunters has an adviser on magical tools, Madam Dahlia Rossetti. She strongly advised that we develop and manufacture these shoes in cooperation with the workshop that currently makes the boots for the squad.”

“Develop and manufacture...in cooperation...with my workshop?”

“Precisely. Her reasoning was that artisans with years of experience have cultivated a wealth of knowledge and expertise, and it would be a monumental loss for them to toss aside all that technical skill. She advised that a better product could be made if the shoes were manufactured in cooperation with seasoned artisans.”

Sansol opened his mouth to respond, but his voice wouldn’t come out. For generations, the artisans of the workshop had diligently and conscientiously poured all their knowledge and skill into making shoes for the Order of Beast Hunters. There was someone out there who recognized that. Oh, how happy that made him!

“I think she is absolutely right,” Carmine continued. “Up to now, I’ve been satisfied with reading old specification documents and not looking beyond the castle. Even though I have knowledge of and experience with magical tools, that doesn’t hold true for shoes and leather. Thus, I would like to ask the assistance of everyone at the D’Alessio Workshop.”

Sansol was startled by Carmine’s plea. Even if their lives had followed different trajectories, were they not the same? He’d always selected excellent leather to make sturdy shoes, but he had never tried to create entirely new designs.

“Vice-Director Zanardi, I am the one who has been shortsighted. I have always aimed to make durable shoes, but I have never been able to improve on them any other way... Just say the word; we are at your command. All of us at the D’Alessio Workshop will do what we can to assist.”

Carmine shook his head.

“You misunderstand. We would like you, as equals, to be our colleagues in the simple effort to make a better pair of shoes.”

Sansol accepted with full enthusiasm.

After the meeting, Captain Grato of the Order of Beast Hunters smiled as he handed Sansol a permit to come and go freely from the castle. Seeing that his name was already on the permit, Sansol found himself so choked up that it was all he could do to offer a word of thanks.

The following day, everyone involved in the production was to assemble in an office at the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department. Representing the D’Alessio Workshop were Sansol and his senior apprentice; representing the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department were Vice-Director Carmine, the leather specialist magical toolmaker, and arms artisans specialized in working with defensive materials. Everyone was very excited to be there.

After their initial briefing, they gathered the opinions of the Order of Beast Hunters’ squad members, thinking that first they should get the opinions of those who would actually be wearing the shoes.

“I like shoes that are light and easy to walk in! And I’d really appreciate a pair that’s properly waterproof.”

“I want mine to be sturdy. I don’t want my kicks to get weaker, so I need boots that are as heavy as the ones I have now.”

“I’d like a pair of boots that protect my legs from impact. I’m getting to be the age where my knees start to hurt...”

Everyone had their own preferences when it came to their shoes. It became unmanageable, and they came to the conclusion that they would have to accommodate all of the requests to a certain extent and make adjustments individually.

The toolmakers from the castle and shoemakers from the workshop differed in status and background, so at first, they were all very cautious. However, people grew more and more accustomed to each other the more time they spent together. The shoemakers shared their knowledge of shoes and leather, while the toolmakers shared their own knowledge of magical tools and enchantment magic. Though each side had a slew of questions for the other, they all were answered eventually as they spent day in and day out working on the shoes.

Once, during the last of a series of meetings, a heated argument broke out regarding the thickness, strength, cushioning, and enchantment of the soles. There were points both shoemakers and magical toolmakers were unwilling to concede, bringing things to a standstill. However, once they understood the differences in each other’s points of view, they came up with many interesting ideas. It was after the all-nighter debate that they became close enough to be on a first-name basis, an outcome that was only to be expected.

The development of the Order of Beast Hunters’ new combat boots progressed steadily—they combined the regular leather and the slime-made leather to make the boots even more lightweight and waterproof, and better at absorbing impact; they came up with a way to sew the boots to ensure they were easy to move in but also durable; and they strengthened their durability with more enchantments.

While that was going on, Sansol was finally able to meet the Order of Beast Hunters’ adviser: Dahlia Rossetti—an up-and-coming magical toolmaker and a shrewd businesswoman who had been able to form a connection with the castle through the company she had only just founded. That was what he had heard about her, so he had already formed an image of her as a stern-looking woman.

But when she greeted him with a smile, her nervousness clear on her face, he could see she was a kind, humble woman. Although she would be receiving her barony, she was still a commoner. As far as he could tell, nothing about her suggested that she’d be able to voice her opinions to the higher-ups in the castle. She seemed so at odds with what he’d heard of her, but once they began talking about their work, he was convinced.

When Sansol began on the subject of the metal toe cap and its frictional wear, the young woman’s initial nervousness was nowhere to be seen as she hunched forward to take notes. When the leather expert magical toolmaker followed up with his explanation of the enchantment, the adviser’s eyes lit up as she asked question after question. She asked her questions rapidly, the brightness in her eyes changing unbelievably. But what never changed was the passion that was evident behind them.

As far as Sansol had been concerned, nobles and others from well-to-do families had nothing in common with him. It seemed, however, that he had been mistaken. Every person in this room had the passion of an artisan. They loved crafting and had a childlike fixation on their work. Sansol was passionate about shoes and leather; that much was true of his current and past selves. Everyone shared that passion, only with magical tools or leather or monster materials swapped in for shoes. Finally, Sansol felt like he could relax.

In the room at the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department, across from Carmine, Sansol resolved to speak up.

“Mr. Carmine, I’d like to ask you about something.”

They had just had a meeting, and everyone was celebrating the fact that they were one step closer to officially mass-producing the new and improved combat boots. So when Sansol spoke up sounding serious, everyone turned to look at him at once.

“Do you happen to know the shoe size of the Order of Beast Hunters’ adviser, Chairwoman Rossetti?”

“I’m afraid I do not, but you may be able to find out from the Order.”

Carmine cast him a questioning look, and Sansol gave up on trying to hide his intentions.

“Would it be all right if I gave Chairwoman Rossetti a prototype—no, a finished pair of shoes? My workshop will cover the costs, of course.”

“Ah yes, I think she would be thrilled. We will cover the costs on our end. You don’t mind, do you, Director Uros?”

“Not at all. Try to pick a color that would suit Rossetti, instead of black.”

Before Sansol knew it, the director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department had started attending the meetings and joining in on the production of the boots. Now the man had agreed with his proposal. Sansol decided that for the time being, he would set aside his worry about the director’s real job being left unattended to.

“Then I’ll get working on the leather! I’ll use a high ratio of wyvern leather. I’ll ask you to handle the sorting and designating the thickness. After that, we can discuss the color and the dye. I want to secure the leather materials immediately, so, Vice-Director Carmine...”

“You have my permission. If you find something suitable in storage, feel free to request it.”

“I’ll be right back!”

No sooner had the leather-loving toolmaker responded than Sansol found himself watching his back as he hurried away. That toolmaker was an incredibly driven young man. Sansol would have to keep up.

“In that case, my artisans will take care of the sorting and the cutting, and I’ll take care of the sewing and attaching the sole.”

“Oh, no fair, pops—I mean, master! Let me sew too, please!”

He heard a pleading voice at his side and felt a tug at his jacket sleeve. It seemed they would have to discuss how they’d divide up the work back in the workshop. Though he certainly wasn’t going to let anyone else get the first stitch in.

“Then I will handle the enchantment—”

As soon as Carmine started to speak, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

“Let me enchant the sole. You can enchant the rest of the shoe, Carmine.”

“...Very well, Director Uros,” the vice-director of the Royal Magical Toolmaking Department responded somewhat resignedly.

What sort of relationship do these two have to have that sort of back-and-forth? Sansol wondered as he swallowed his laugh.

As a magical toolmaker, Chairwoman Rossetti was unlikely ever to experience combat, and yet she was about to have a pair of highly sophisticated boots. He wanted her to have the culmination of his—no, all of their best efforts. As he thought that, in the end, he could no longer hold back his laugh—and before he knew it, they were all laughing together like friends.

When the following spring approached, the Order of Beast Hunters would receive a delivery of combat boots, as well as a pair of beautiful crimson boots. Right between where the sole was sewn to the rest of the shoe, Sansol had engraved in tiny letters the words “Goddess of the Artisans”—a secret only known among the manufacturers.

A Nap Lantern for a Friend

Yesterday, Dahlia had heard about how the slime-formed boots were coming along in the castle’s magical toolmaking department. They would be jointly developed and produced with the D’Alessio Workshop, which had long made the boots for the Order of Beast Hunters. They would also be properly compensated as technical experts, which was a relief to hear.

She had also had a pleasant interaction with the head manager of the D’Alessio Workshop, Sansol. He was well-versed not only in leather but also metal, and his explanation of abrasion seemed as though it might prove instructive in making magical swords as well.

After they discussed the shoes, Dahlia was shown the prototype for the large grinder. Its blades moved powerfully and efficiently to produce a smooth vegetable juice. It could have held its own against the food processors from Dahlia’s previous life. Carmine’s safety measures were also perfect. The grinder wouldn’t start unless the lid was closed, and a warning to remove the unit containing the wind crystal power source during cleaning and transport was engraved on the body of the grinder itself. Also, to prevent any injury while cleaning the mixing blades, the grinder came with special leather gloves and a brush made out of giant boar hair. The leather gloves and the brush were the joint ideas of the leather specialist toolmaker and the manager of the shoemaking workshop.

Dahlia admired Carmine for saying he’d learned a lot from the D’Alessio Workshop about leather, pelt, and metal reinforcements. She thought it was wonderful how open he was to learning from others regardless of their status or position. It made her want to emulate the same attitude.

Having seen such a quality magical tool, Dahlia felt a fire had been lit under her to create her own. That night, unable to sleep, she laid out some sketch paper. With a pen in one hand, she started planning out the nap lantern she’d decided to give to Volf as a gift.

She would make the base of the lantern as beautiful a gold color as she could manage, and for the lantern’s shade, she’d pick a curved glass that was smooth to the touch. Maybe she could even use the fiendfish scales she’d received from Carmine on the shade.

Cutting colored glass into a specific shape was painstaking work, but she also didn’t want to use a tool to just cut it up into a bunch of small pieces. She didn’t want to have someone else do the work either, so she would just have to work on it bit by bit every day.

Her idea was to carve the white fiendfish scales into snowflakes and apply them to the shade. That way, when the lamp was turned on, the soft light would project snowflakes onto the ceiling and walls. Enchanting the lamp with the moonbeam butterfly wings’ hypnotic effect would give it a pale blue color. A snowflake pattern would go together perfectly with that blue light, reminiscent of a winter sky. As the ideas came to her, she opened the magically sealed box. Inside, the crystallized moonbeam butterfly wings were glowing light blue.

I’ll do my best to enchant this lamp for Volf so he can have a restful sleep in which he doesn’t have to relive any childhood nightmares. Like being cradled in a mother’s arms, drifting into gentle sleep—suddenly, Dahlia realized she was clenching her fists.

“This won’t go well if I strain myself... Oh, maybe I should make one for myself first.”

Dahlia had made a nap lantern for the first time the other day at the castle. Though hers had unfortunately been the only pale blue lantern amid everyone else’s beautiful, rich blues, at least she had been able to complete it. Having only made a lantern once before, though, she was a little worried about making one for Volf. Fortunately, she had enough moonbeam butterfly wings to make several nap lanterns, and even if she failed with all of them, she could purchase more herself from a supplier.

I’ll make a nap lantern with the same style and enchantment as the one for Volf, to match—no, I mean, it’s not like I’m making them as a matching pair, I’m just making them the same way, so they’ll just end up matching— Dahlia put a stop to her thoughts, which were transforming into excuses, and turned her mind toward something else.

“Should I add some decoration to the handle too? Maybe I can use father’s lantern as a reference.”

Having suddenly remembered it, Dahlia dug out the fairy glass lantern her father had used until he’d died. The small, gold-colored lantern was light enough to be easily carried with one hand. The handle was decorated with a beautiful metal engraving of a butterfly and vines.

Her father had mainly made magical lanterns for practical use, so this lantern must have been something special. Maybe he’d made it for her mother, or maybe he’d made it with her in mind. Either way, Dahlia had no means of finding out.

It had been a while since the lantern had been used, so just in case, Dahlia replaced the fire crystal. Then, she gently twisted the knob, and the lantern emitted a soft glow. Once she’d enjoyed enough of the pale, rainbow-colored light, she turned the knob of the fairy glass lantern up a notch more. When she did, a circle appeared in midair next to the lantern.

Inside the circle, she could see a clear blue sky and a colorful field of flowers. The flowers were all dahlia, large and blooming, with white butterflies playfully fluttering around them. When she looked closely, she even saw some white clouds starting to float by in the blue sky.

Dahlia unconsciously let out a long sigh as she gazed at the scene. She still couldn’t perform the enchantment to create this floating image that emerged next to the lantern. The scene was so vivid that she felt she could even hear the sound of the flowers rustling in the wind. Unlike her previous world, this world had no machinery that could record video. So then how had her father enchanted such a clear, stable image? As she thought of the delicate enchantment her father must’ve performed for this lantern, she keenly felt just how skilled he’d been as a magical toolmaker. Perhaps her path to reaching that level of skill was just an endless road.

The spellbook Tobias had copied down for her detailed the method for making fairy glass lanterns. Although she was sure Tobias had copied her father’s words exactly, underneath the explanation on how to make the lantern, written in big, red letters, were the words “Enchant it right!” If her father had intended for that to clue her in on anything, he’d made a serious error. If he were still alive, she would have called him out for his vague directions and asked him to show her how to enchant it.

“I guess it’s hopeless...”

Even though she was happy to have the spellbook her father had composed, what she felt even more strongly was the wish that he could have taught her himself.

When she was a child, she hadn’t known what this image was. She’d just thought it was a picture of a make-believe place. But this landscape seemed to be a real place—a field of dahlia in a coaching inn town outside of the capital. There was an illustration she’d seen in an information book that resembled the fairy glass lantern’s image.

A dahliya—it was spelled differently than her name, but it referred to the same flower. One flower was a dahliya, but a cluster of them growing together were called dahlia. She’d sometimes wondered why she’d been named Dahlia and not Dahliya, seeing as she was just one person, but apparently, her father had wished for her not to live on her own but surrounded by others.

Although she used to think her name didn’t suit her, recently, she felt she had grown a bit closer to it. All her dear friends, her numerous colleagues, and the seniors and teachers she could always count on—she wasn’t alone anymore. Her many connections were the reason she was able to live happily. The unfortunate part was that she’d never be able to tell that to her father, or to her parents from her previous life.

Despite being named Dahlia, she had never gone to see a field of dahlia flowers. She knew where the place in the book was. It was in a stage station town barely half a day’s ride by horse from the capital. It wasn’t so far away. In the light of the fairy glass lantern, Dahlia whispered to the swaying flowers, “I’d like to see a dahlia field someday...”

Dahlia flowers bloomed in the summer. Maybe next year, she could invite Volf to go with her. He was always happy to accompany her, so she felt like he would agree to come along, though she did feel a little embarrassed about inviting him to see a field of flowers named after herself. As she thought about that, she suddenly remembered something.

“Volf probably wouldn’t have that much fun seeing dahlia flowers. He said he’d get bored walking around a pretty flower garden...”

As she recalled one of their previous conversations, Dahlia looked to the bookshelf.

“It’s a stage station town, so maybe there’s somewhere to get a good bite to eat, or to buy some interesting food and alcohol. I bet a tourism book would have suggestions for what to do.”

The books and encyclopedias she had on plants didn’t contain that type of information. If they were to take a trip out there, she’d want them to enjoy many delicious foods and bring back souvenirs.

I guess our next stop together will be a bookshop in the city.

Smiling, Dahlia began planning out their next trip.

Even for those two who attached more importance to food and drink than flowers, was it only a matter of time until their love blossomed? The light of the lantern continued to flicker as if beckoning them to the flower garden.