Volume 6 Chapter 97 Mass-Produced Crossbow
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”What is this? Third-rate? No—worse. Even a human blacksmith could pull off work like this.”
It had been a while since I last got chewed out by Mr. Zenom.
”No, look, they say battles are a numbers game, right? This was intentionally made with reduced specs so it could be mass-produced.”
I hadn’t originally planned to make anything too powerful. I was just getting carried away while working on a non-lethal crossbow with Uno and the others. Then Shea-Shea saw it and called it a waste of tech. And, well… she wasn’t wrong. No country in their right mind would hand out weapons engraved with Magic Formations to common soldiers, and purposefully weakening the output for safety reasons? Yeah, that was never going to fly.
Honestly, in manufacturing, it’s pretty common for craftsmen to go off the rails. If nobody pulls them back, they’ll forget the original purpose and make something totally off-mark.
”Shea-Shea, huh… Well, if she said it, guess there’s no helping it.”
Zenom suddenly went quiet. Before I knew it, even the other dwarves had started fearing Shea-Shea. I had a pretty good guess why, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask for details.
”A crossbow like this? You’d find this in any average shop,” he muttered, poking it. “If this turns into a drawn-out war with the Demon King, we’ll need human blacksmiths to be able to repair them too.”
”This time we’ve got a whole bunch of summoned Heroes, right? If they’re equipped with proper dwarf-made weapons, we’ll wipe the floor with the enemy.”
”Sure, but the Hero Management Bureau doesn’t have the budget for dwarf gear anymore.”
”What! We’re not working for free!!”
And that was the real issue. In a perfect world, everyone would just band together and take on the Demon King as one. But in reality, different groups have different statuses—some profit, while others get the short end of the stick. If that imbalance gets too big, people stop wanting to cooperate.
The Bureau, which should be managing that balance, is only out for itself these days. At this rate, some nations might decide they’d rather be crushed by the Demon King than drained dry by the Bureau.
”We’re not thrilled about being bled dry either, so we’ve been building up our own forces. With crossbows, even the elderly and kids can fight right away. Since we’ve gone to the trouble of building proper defenses, we’re ready for a siege. A siege, I tell you!”
”Universal conscription, huh? How many’ve you made?”
I’d handed 200 crossbows to Princess Auroora to help defend the Kingdom of Ayub, each with 100 bonus bolts. Another 1,000 were prepped for the Bureau, and 5,000 were ready for trade. Bolts were sold separately, but since they could use standard commercial ones, it wasn’t an issue. For our own country, I’d stocked up 2,000 units, each with a hundred bolts as well.
”Eh… Around 10,000, maybe?”
I exaggerated a bit. Everyone fluffs their numbers in medieval times—it’s tradition.
”Ten thousand?! Where’d you get enough iron for that?!”
”There’s a press-style finish, and we’re using a lot of iron piping, which cuts down on cost and weight.”
Zenom started seriously examining the crossbow. Truth be told, we had plenty of materials. We’d stockpiled tens of thousands of tons of iron already, so saving on it was more of a habit than a necessity.
Thanks to Brother Jirou’s connections, we managed to scoop up piles of rusted steel that had been lying around out in the open—basically for free. We even salvaged a few illegally dumped sunken ships. Scrap metal was stupid cheap on this planet. Tool steel was still pricey, though.
”I want some iron too.”
”Yeah, yeah. Brought you a souvenir from Earth.”
I handed him a high-end Japanese kitchen knife. As a bonus, I tossed in a rusted iron beam. Zenom looked way more interested in the beam. He hefted the heavy thing in one hand and strolled back to his forge, grinning like a kid with a new toy. Classic dwarf.
Hmm. Maybe I could trade iron for dwarf weapons and pass them on to the administration. Even if someone tried to shake me down, it wouldn’t hurt much—most of the stuff came in at basically zero cost anyway.
* * *
Following Shea-Shea’s instructions, I kept pulling crafted weapons out of the magic bag and stacking them in the warehouse. I’d worried I might’ve made too many crossbows, but just a few days later, the place was completely empty.
Being able to leave the tedious logistics to someone trustworthy is a lifesaver.
At the newly established shooting range, fresh recruits were already in training. With a regular bow, it takes a fair bit of practice just to shoot straight, but with a crossbow, it seemed they could hit targets thirty meters away after only a little training. Well, the targets were Goblin-sized, so they were on the large side. If they were the size of quails, it’d be a lot trickier.
We used a laser rangefinder to precisely place the targets, which helped a lot. Even though crossbows shoot in a straight line, their bolts still follow a curve due to gravity. In other words, the projectile travels in a parabolic arc, so depending on the distance, you have to aim slightly above the target.
A veteran archer could hit the mark using instinct and experience, but your average beginner isn’t pulling that off.
Maybe I should mark a thirty-meter reference line around the outer defensive wall I’m planning for the battlefield.
With the speed of these mass-produced crossbows, it’s hard for amateurs to aim accurately past thirty meters. I could probably manage a clean shot at something a hundred meters out, but even a small tremor in my hands at that range would throw off the bolt’s impact point.
If I attached a Japanese-made scope, I could aim at a target a thousand meters away—but this particular crossbow isn’t built to reach that far. I’ve heard that top-tier snipers can pick off targets from several kilometers away, but that’s because bullets are small, fast, less susceptible to wind, and spin rapidly to stabilize mid-flight.
Trying to replicate that kind of accuracy with a crossbow is a different story. Designing a mechanism to spin the bolt as it’s launched is complicated, and adding fletching for rotation only increases drag. Honestly, whoever came up with rifling was a genius.
Among the materials my uncle sent me was a two-component propellant. It supposedly won’t explode even if a fire spirit plays tricks on it, but it still looked a little too dangerous, so I shelved it.
Air guns, though—they’re another option entirely. I took a look at some blueprints for a high-pressure compressor, and surprisingly, the design seemed pretty simple. Creating high-pressure steam with a boiler is even easier. If I really wanted to, I could make something like a machine gun without needing gunpowder at all.
Of course, hauling around a boiler would be a pain, but for a stationary gun emplacement in base defense, I could just run pipes to it and be done. I’d have to seal it up properly, though. Sometimes you just can’t get your hands on a pressure-resistant hose that won’t burst. A metal pipe might work better anyway.
Once someone gets used to a crossbow, switching over to an air gun in a pinch shouldn’t be too hard.
* * *
Weapons also rely a little on luck.
Ms. Nina was buried in a thick manual on trench warfare—looked like it was about the size of an encyclopedia. These days, both Ms. Nina and Princess Auroora had become fluent in English, and even picked up French and German for good measure. Honestly, that alone felt like cheating.
I’d passed a few books along to Princess Auroora as well, so she was probably already working out some defense plans for her castle.
The fortification layouts Ms. Nina added to the Sabroa Kingdom’s map were surprisingly solid. She’d come up with a range of options, from basic trench digging to full-on bunker construction.
If I used my magic bag effectively, I could get trenches dug in no time. But this region has a lot of spots where groundwater rises up the moment you dig down. On top of that, I can’t touch the areas where water and sewage lines are buried.
I’m no military expert, but if I’ve got time, I’d like to build sturdy positions using concrete. Ideally, I’d also lay out underground tunnels to handle supply runs and safe retreats.
”If you fire a mass-produced crossbow at a forty-five degree angle, the range should go over three hundred meters, right? Even if it doesn’t hit anything, it’d still be a nuisance. And if you fire in volleys, you could suppress a whole area.”
Ms. Nina’s tone was cool and matter-of-fact.
Considering how some barriers can easily nullify projectile weapons, keeping up long-range fire could be a good way to pressure the enemy. Since maintaining a barrier consumes a huge amount of mana, forcing the caster to keep it up might drain them faster.
If the Demon King’s the type who doesn’t care what happens to his low-level troops, he’d probably just send in Goblins and burn through them without batting an eye. That’s the kind of image I get, anyway. Wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t even bother casting a barrier in the first place.
”When that happens… placing water moats to slow movement… and if there are lizardmen among them…”
Ms. Nina started mumbling to herself, already running simulations in her head. I’d always thought of her as a gentle soul who wouldn’t hurt a fly, but it turns out she’s a pretty fearsome tactician when it counts.
* * *
”If it’s going to be point-blank shooting, the barrier probably won’t deflect it, right? So I’d make the crossbow a one-time-use weapon. Fire the first shot, toss it aside, and go wild with my sword. Yeah, that’s it! Above all else—it just looks cool! Throwing it away like that!”
…Asking Mr. Raoh for his opinion might’ve been a mistake. Apparently, there’s something romantic about discarding an empty weapon.
”Don’t throw it away. If a goblin picks it up, that just makes the enemy stronger.”
”Really? But it sounds cool.”
I still think it makes sense to equip a swordsman—who’s generally lacking in ranged attacks—with a crossbow for support. But making it disposable is asking for trouble.
”How about integrating a magic motor so it can fire automatically? Like something with the impact of a pile bunker?”
”You’re an adult saying dumb things. What do crossbows and pile bunkers even have in common? Also, don’t say that where the dwarves can hear you—mixing those ideas is dangerous.”
”For the record, when I saw the magic motor, it was about the size of a car engine. At that point, isn’t it fair to just call it a ‘magic engine’?”
”By the way, Mr. Raoh—can you even carry something that size?”
”I could, but I wouldn’t want to fight with it strapped to my back. Bit heavy for a luck-bringer. We’ll probably have to look into making it lighter.”
Apparently, Mr. Raoh and the others developed the system to mount on a trolley. Though really, it seems like Raoh was more of a hype man for the project than a hands-on developer.
The design has the engine suspended underneath the trolley, which actually helps stabilize the center of gravity—even if the unit ends up being a little heavy. So reducing its weight hasn’t really been a priority.
From a mana-efficiency perspective, powering a steam engine with fire magic is more cost-effective. But the key advantage of the magic motor is that it works without fire magic—anyone with mana can use it.
Even I can operate it.
”Why not just build an armored train?”
”That’d be amazing. But could you ask Shea-Shea to increase the budget for the rails? I want to set up a circular line connecting the entire territory.”
Turns out Mr. Raoh used to be a train guy—a full-on railway nerd. Laying container trolleys between the port and the warehouse district must’ve reignited that old flame.
Honestly, combining containers and trolleys is kind of broken. In just six months, the Sabroa Dukedom has become the world’s leading logistics hub. No rivals. No contest.
”Terrible timing for a demon lord to show up, just when I’m about to become the logistics king. I want to tell them to read the room—but taking down a demon lord does sound fun. Feels like a major update in an online game.”
For his age, Mr. Raoh is surprisingly into online games.
”Well, I’m off to lay down some rails. And while I’m at it, I might as well build that armored train too.”
I’ll requisition the surplus magic motors using royal authority. Then it’s back to Uno’s nest.
It’s less of a “return” and more like I’m always there by default—I just pop back here from time to time to check on things.
With Shea-Shea absent this time, I had full creative freedom—but the results were chaotic.
Shea-Shea had apparently been counting on Ms. Nina to act as the voice of reason. A bit naive, that. In reality, Ms. Nina is even more reckless than I am. When things spiral out of control, she’s the type to dump gasoline on the fire. Definitely not a stabilizing influence.
The end result? We forgot all about self-restraint and ended up building an “armored” train with no actual armor. It has a rotating turret mounted with a crossbow on the trolley’s chassis.
The same magic motor that propels the trolley also powers the turret, with the force distributed through a gear system. Even the loading process—normally a pain—has been automated.
In this world, repeating crossbows do exist. They’re basically toys for the rich—low performance, and their magazines can only hold a few bolts. You crank the handle, and the bolts fire off one by one.
But for actual combat? Not that practical.
So I designed a crossbow that can fire continuously using a magical motor as its power source. Instead of using a top-loaded magazine, it pulls in bolts connected by clips from underneath.
I prioritized durability, but that caused the size to balloon. Since the plan was to mount it on a trolley anyway, I didn’t bother scaling it down—in fact, I let it grow to the limit.
Uno and Ms. Nina weren’t telling me to hold back, either. They were cheering me on. Especially Ms. Nina—she kept pushing for more range, more speed. Apparently, it’s going to be a key component of the defense line.
* * *
I brought it back to present it to Mr. Raoh. I haven’t really explained the whole “area where time flows differently” thing to him or the others, but they didn’t seem too shocked to see a new weapon pop up overnight.
”That’s not a crossbow anymore—that’s a ballista. A siege weapon. Looks awesome, but it’s way too conspicuous. If the enemy throws up a barrier, it’s useless.”
”It’s got a range of over twelve hundred meters, so at the very least, it can be a real nuisance. If we move it along the rails, we can reposition it flexibly depending on the situation.”
Ms. Nina offered the explanation.
The range wasn’t as impressive as we’d hoped, given the size. I did try using a pulley bow system to boost the initial velocity, but it kept jamming and was ultimately a no-go.
I think we can get it to fly farther—if we tweak the projectile a bit. Maybe add some little wings to give it more glide, or cover the surface with golf ball–like dimples to cut down on air resistance? Structurally speaking, though, small wings wouldn’t work with the Belt Rin. What if we hollowed out the iron bolts and filled them with lead to make them heavier?
”With just a few of these projectiles, we could forge a one-handed sword. Isn’t that a waste of iron?”
Shea-Shea, ever the critic, threw in her two cents. She wasn’t wrong. Those big iron bolts were guaranteed to be lethal—orc or no orc—but they were way too cost-inefficient. And if we were planning to use them in rapid-fire mode, it’d only get worse.
”Just because it’s war doesn’t mean we’ve got an unlimited budget.”
”Now, now, don’t be like that, Shea-Shea. This thing’s cool, admit it. It’s a romantic weapon!”
Shea-Shea and Mr. Raoh always seemed to end up arguing whenever they crossed paths. Honestly, someone had to keep an eye on Raoh—he burned through budget faster than a dwarf on a shopping spree. Still, his team had been pulling off solid results lately. It all came down to how tightly we held the reins.
”Mr. Raoh, please run the circular line along here. The goal is to reinforce the transport infrastructure and give trolley tanks a clear path in case of emergency.”
Ms. Nina pointed to a spot on the map. Since the rails were coming from my personal stockpile, Shea-Shea had no room to complain. Perks of being king.
”Leave the rail laying to me. Wait—is this line for trenches? Can it be delayed?”
”The trenches are just a temporary defense line. If we have extra time and budget, we’ll reinforce them gradually.”
Shea-Shea rolled her eyes. It was all a big “if,” of course. Honestly, we were lucky no dwarves were around to see this map.
”Well, I’ve got a low-budget solution up my sleeve too. Ta-da—barbed wire!”
What I proudly pulled out was a slightly thinner barbed wire. It didn’t take much iron to make, surprisingly. Even this thinner version could do some real damage—enough to stop a goblin horde in its tracks.
”I’d love to use wood for fences and stakes, but that’d drain our precious forest resources. Guess I’ll have to go with iron instead.”
Technically, stakes made from young trees weren’t that expensive. But if we started cutting down saplings, this world’s forests wouldn’t last long. At least with iron pipes, we could collect and reuse them after. Assuming nobody made off with them, of course.
”Then leave it to me, Your Majesty! We’ve developed the McLugari!”
It was a pseudo-wood that Mr. Raoh’s team had developed for railroad sleepers. Apparently, it was made by hardening straw rope with some kind of binder. It looked kind of cork-like… and the strength seemed decent enough.
”That name, though. Still, inventing a wood alternative is a big deal.”
”Ha ha! I shall become the king of invention! I’ve even cooked up a new line of potions, with the alchemist backing me. And with the saintess on my side, I’m practically invincible! Our king’s so charming, he even won over a former duke’s daughter. People may be stone walls, but we’ll break through—nothing can stop us now!”
Mr. Raoh—far too familiar as always—slapped me on the shoulder and leaned in close. I braced for the usual crass banter, but this time his voice dropped into something more serious.
”I’ve got a guy who can use a magic bag to store potions, but I don’t fully trust him. If I hand over a decent stash, there’s a real chance he’ll take off with it. Any ideas?”
”Potions degrade over time, so yeah, they’ve gotta be kept in a magic bag. But since they’re pricey, it’s not exactly rare for someone to just disappear with them.”
”In that case, how about we make a potion that’s worthless unless used the right way? I’ll provide the concentrate—you just bottle it on-site.”
I’d been ready for something like this. Honestly, if Raoh hadn’t brought it up, I might’ve forgotten about it.
I pulled out a small bottle filled with black liquid.
”What’s this? Cola? Can I drink it? Is it safe?”
”You can drink it. Right now, it’s just mint-flavored cola. But it only works as a potion if the drinker’s received Uno’s blessing within the last three days.”
Uno had come up with the idea back when we were talking about gear theft and how to deal with it. There are lots of different blessings, but one gives a small buff to all stats for three days. By itself, it’s pretty mediocre. But using that as a trigger to activate magic items? That opens up all kinds of possibilities.
”A genius move! The thief’s gonna be so mad!”
”Oh, and it won’t degrade for years if stored at room temperature.”
”A genius! A true genius!”
I couldn’t promise the taste would win any awards, but theoretically, the healing effect should work just fine. Honestly, I could brew a Dragon God’s Herb from some random weeds nearby and get elixir-level results—but handing that out freely would be a whole different problem.
”Ugh, it’s lightly carbonated, a little sweet, and reeks of menthol. Definitely has that medicine-y vibe. But if I add ice, it might pass as cola.”
The medicine-y flavor was deliberate. You can’t underestimate the placebo effect—if people think it works, it tends to work better. I’d even considered going for that distinctive Seirogan smell, but Uno vetoed it. Apparently she just really likes cola.
”Even if it’s only mildly sweet, it gets sticky if you use it on a wound. Better to drink it.”
”Would it be a bad idea to mix in a little brandy when bottling it?”
”Yeah, that’s a hard no.”
It probably wouldn’t ruin the healing effect, but we’d definitely end up with people chugging it like liquor.
While I was on my way to deliver the concentrate, I met some of the new summoned heroes. Word must’ve gotten out—mostly production-type jobs this time, lured in by the promise of high pay.
The alchemist was an old-timer, summoned long before me. I’d heard alchemy took a ridiculous amount of time to master. I’d like to talk with him properly sometime.
The guy who could use the magic bag looked like a sketchy middle-aged man. He had the job of a treasurer, and the bag’s capacity was about four tatami mats. Not a huge space. Even if he did run off with the potions, the loss would be limited. With how short-staffed we were, I figured it might be worth taking the gamble.
* * *
In the meantime, I finally got word that the Hero Management Bureau was sending an envoy. Honestly, in some ways, that felt even more nerve-wracking than a Demon King invasion.
That day, the military had a special exercise scheduled from the morning. They planned to fire off some crossbow volleys in front of the envoys—just enough to apply a little pressure. There was even a small bonus involved, so the soldiers would probably be extra motivated.
Military action always costs money, but this was a necessary expense.
The plan was to have Shea-Shea speak with the envoy group first. If they looked down on her and got disrespectful, Miss Floria and Mr. Donovan were ready to step in and put them in their place.
Uno and I were the final line of defense—but between you and me, that didn’t exactly fill me with confidence. I had no idea what Uno might pull, and I wasn’t all that dependable myself.
But that’s fine. A king’s job is to sit quietly and look important. Actions speak louder than words.
If we end up having to stand against the Bureau, the one at the top has to take responsibility. Saying yes or no might sound easy, but the weight of that choice is heavy.
So today, I’d be dressing the part—decked out in fancy robes and gaudy jewelry. The “clothes make the man” strategy. If a flashy outfit could give me even a small advantage, then it was worth every coin.
Of course, the envoys showed up all dolled up too. I get it now—wanting to dress yourself up. I don’t feel the urge to make fun of them anymore. Just like warriors wear armor on the battlefield, in high society, fashion becomes its own kind of power.
According to Miss Floria, some of the gems they were wearing weren’t exactly appropriate for the occasion. But hey, using tiny details to gain the upper hand—that’s textbook noble negotiation.
* * *
We were monitoring the talks via surveillance cameras. I also gave Shea-Shea a wireless earpiece. Mana detection probably wouldn’t pick up on something that small, but since the Bureau brought over tech from Earth, I wasn’t about to let my guard down.
The envoy held the rank of Count, and one of his two bodyguards looked like a summoned Hero. On our side, we had Tizzy and Ms. Shirakaba on guard duty. Good luck, Shea-Shea. You’re Count for a day.
If someone too high-ranking showed up to meet the envoy, it might make our side look weaker. So unless something major happened, I had no plans to show my face.
Outside the window, the newly motivated recruits—riding high on that bonus—were blasting armored scarecrows to bits with triple-shot crossbow bursts.
The envoys were staring, jaws practically on the floor, as scarecrows in plate armor went down like paper dolls. For lower-ranking nobles, even a single set of plate mail is a luxury.
Well, the breastplates our recruits were wearing were actually better. Lightweight, breathable, and good at preventing fatal wounds. If you’ve got Dragon God’s Herb on hand, I think it’s pretty much the ideal setup.
The envoy seemed totally absorbed in watching the training session, showing no signs of getting down to business. I guess the effect of the “medicine” was a little too strong—they’d completely forgotten they came here to squeeze us for money.
My carefully laid plans were already off track, and I was starting to get worried. But just then, Shea-Shea started pitching the crossbows and plate mail to the envoy, who’d asked if he could buy them.
”Wait… is she seriously that composed? What’s going on inside that girl’s head?” I’d always thought she was a dreamy airhead, but the second money enters the picture, she shows negotiation skills that rival those hard-nosed dwarf merchants.
Well, I guess it was a solid business opportunity. I’d been planning to sell the crossbows more widely anyway, and I’d even meant to give the Bureau a thousand units for free.
As for the plate mail, I’d had a bunch of prototypes made to practice press-forming techniques. They were just lying around being used as target dummies before I melted them down for scrap. Honestly, they were no different from plastic model kits at this point. I could let an apprentice blacksmith handle the assembly—or crank them out on an assembly line like Model T Fords.
When it came time for price negotiations, Shea-Shea didn’t hold back. I knew she wouldn’t go below cost, but even I was surprised at how bold she was.
That said, the envoy didn’t seem to mind. He was all smiles—probably planning to mark everything up and flip it for a profit through the Bureau.
That’s fine. If they’re paying customers, I don’t care what they do. A sole distribution deal would’ve been annoying, but Shea-Shea dodged that bullet by offering the Bureau a “special edition” model. Smart move.
We’d make sure to draw up a proper contract—complete with Sir Hortus’s divine seal.
Miss Floria and Mr. Donovan were checking the document over and over for any problems while watching through the cameras. The envoy, on the other hand, barely glanced at it before signing.
So what’s the deal? Is he just that confident, or is he planning to betray us later?
I shivered a little. It felt like a god’s excitement was creeping down my spine. Please, let this deal go smoothly. I really don’t want to deal with any divine messes right now.
* * *
In the end, Shea-Shea wrapped up the negotiations all on her own. It wasn’t what I had planned, but honestly, the result turned out pretty well.
Now I have to mass-produce armor that wasn’t part of the original plan. That’s fine, though—this is just the beginning of our fight. I’m definitely better at making things than dealing with negotiations like that.
I heard the envoy and his group enjoyed themselves in the pleasure district of the Sabroa Dukedom before they left. They ran out of money, so they charged it to my tab.
The amount wasn’t much. I had set aside some money to entertain them just in case they tried to haggle, and that would have cost a lot more. I didn’t exactly invite them, though. The staff said the food was delicious, so at least someone enjoyed it.
Shea-Shea kept a detailed record of their expenses. She said she’d figure out how to handle it later but wanted to make sure everything was documented for now.
Being meticulous is just part of her personality—she feels uneasy if things aren’t in order. Maybe that’s a talent, too. She’s a rare asset when it comes to managing the budget. But if Shea-Shea were married to a regular villager, I bet her husband would find her a bit much.
There’s no such thing as an ideal woman in real life. What really matters is compatibility—the right fit, the right combination. So, it makes sense that your ideal partner is the one who fits you best.
And since people can change, the best couple can be formed without searching for some perfect ideal—because both sides grow together.
In Shea-Shea’s case, you could say it’s a little unfortunate she’s a genius to such an extreme degree. But that’s okay—I’m not a genius myself, but I’m good at making use of geniuses.
Ms. Nina, Tizzy, and Miss Floria are all ridiculously brilliant, and if Shea-Shea hangs out with them, she’d just blend in as an ordinary genius.
I always knew Tizzy had insane political sense, but Ms. Nina and Princess Auroora’s language skills are on another level. It’s not just a skill; it’s like cheating. If you have the Mind Communication skill, does that make language skills unnecessary? Not really—magic is made of spells, after all. If Ms. Nina got the Editor skill, that would definitely become something terrifying.
I should try teaching her that next time.
* * *
That messenger from the management bureau seems pretty cheerful, probably thinking of our country as a cash cow. But if they don’t keep their contract, that’s going to cause serious trouble.
These days, people barely believe in divine punishment—like the old tales of being turned into pigs—unless they’re really devout. But gods do exist in this world.
The contract we signed is fairly lenient, with relief measures built in. As long as they don’t try to break it on purpose, it should be fine.
Please, no unnecessary trouble, okay? Keeping promises is something even a child can do. But still… I can’t help worrying.
There are always people who seem to step on landmines no matter what—unlucky in one way, but lucky in another.
Well, all we can do is quietly fulfill our part of the contract. I hope the weapons and armor I’ve made will help protect the people from the Demon King—even if only a little.
Notes:
• Mr. Zenom – Tough dwarf blacksmith from Toyoata Village. Repairs weapons, improves accuracy. Charges 100 gold/arrow. Becomes protagonist’s strict master. Assigns hard tasks like pre-dawn cleaning, firewood, water pumping. Owns well-equipped forge. Challenges protagonist to prove ideas.
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Jirou – Male. Saburou’s other older brother. He is a shady businessman with a villainous look. He is more understanding of Saburou’s experiences in another world due to his exposure to light novels and anime. He is also tight-lipped, which makes him a good confidant for Saburou’s secrets.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Raoh – Pakkyamara. An infamous, scheming, but somewhat incompetent senior adventurer known for meddling with hero summoning rituals; often gets beaten up as a result. The one who want japanese food.
• Miss Floria – Elegant, silver-haired noblewoman in her 40s, referred to as an ‘older sister’. Judge of the Supreme Court and Baroness. Former tutor of Princess Auroora. Initially stern but warms up, showing a playful side. Close with Ms. Nina (Princess Auroora’s doll copy), treating her like a sister. Trustworthy and explains legal matters clearly.
• Donovan – Head Priest of the Great Temple. He has a newfound respect for the MC, referring to them as a ‘Saint.’ His actions suggest he is highly organized and influential within his organization.
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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