Step By Step! (6)

I had always thought protocol was difficult.

No—protocol in a situation where I had things to hide was what was truly difficult.

“So this fruit is mansia? The raw material for coffee, right?”

“That’s right. We’re using the seeds of this fruit. No—just think of it as using only the seeds.”

“What about the flesh?”

“There isn’t much you’d call edible flesh. If we used it at all, it’d be for making fertilizer that helps plant growth, or maybe as livestock feed.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. But after you brew the coffee, why are you drying the grounds like that?”

“Think of it as a process of remanufacturing them into tools that help with coffee aroma and humidification.”

“Humidification? What’s that?”

With every answer, Princess Riana’s questions only multiplied. The gap in our knowledge was so wide that she grew curious about every single word that slipped out.

So I explained humidification and even clarified what it was good for before I finally got to free my mouth—but her nonstop barrage of questions still cost me nearly half a day.

Still, it wasn’t a complete waste. Walking around with her let me inspect various places, point out weak spots or parts that needed work, and do things my way—so I wasn’t all that dissatisfied.

After that, we ate lunch together, and I heard a few things from her. One of them was serious enough that it started to weigh on me.

‘So a war is going to break out…?’

Princess Riana, I knew, received regular reports from the imperial family every day through magical communications. Her status wasn’t light, and she apparently even kept a mage assigned solely for communications so she could track sales, inventory needs, and the like in real time—so I cautiously asked.

“I thought House Ischtein would start the war on its own, but this is unexpected.”

“Huh…? How did you know? I never said House Ischtein…?”

Hadn’t she?

Thinking back, she really hadn’t. She’d only said there would be a big war, and that the targets were the Terakan Empire and Atoon.

In moments like this, I judged it was better to tell the truth than to make a flimsy excuse. Princess Riana was bound to learn sooner or later anyway, so I brought it up plainly. I kept the fact that I’d slept with him private, but I told her everything else. She stared at the signet ring of House Ischtein on my hand in fascination.

“I’ve heard there are magical tools with functions like that, but… I never imagined they actually existed.”

“From what I heard, it only works once a month, so if something similar happens again soon, he said he’ll die.”

“It’s an incredible magical tool…”

She was brimming with curiosity. Come to think of it, wasn’t Riana a mage too?

‘And she works her communications mage that hard… Does knowing more mean she squeezes them more?’

Thinking she had a rather ruthless side, I continued the meal while we chatted quietly. After finishing and moving on to dessert, Princess Riana asked me,

“If the Atoon defensive line collapses… this place might have to face the Demonic Tribe before long too, right…?”

“Is that so? But aren’t we already bordering part of the Demonic Tribe’s territory toward the Forest of the Demon Dragon?”

“That area is protected by the Demon Dragon. Even the Demonic Tribe can’t cross easily. High-ranking demons especially can’t.”

“Why?”

It was new information, so I asked—and Princess Riana generously answered.

“I heard a demon killed the Demon Dragon’s hatchling, and they even turned it into an undead dragon so it couldn’t enter eternal rest.”

A hatchling meant a baby dragon. What was the point of killing one and making it an undead dragon…?

No matter where you went, there were always idiots.

“Back then, one Demon King died because they couldn’t withstand the Demon Dragon’s wrath, and one corner of the Three Demon Kings collapsed—but then a fallen Hero took that seat, and the number of Demon Kings returned to three. They said it was a chaotic time.”

I figured humans must have pushed things far if a Hero had fallen.

But that aside—if a dragon could even chew up Demon Kings…

Once again, I realized dragons were not a species you wanted to deal with, and I wrapped up my meal with Princess Riana. After that, she spent her days preparing the medicines she needed, and after a few days passed, the Dust of Sands Trading Company left first—and the next day, Princess Riana left as well.

What she said before leaving forced me to consider just how serious things could get.

“When I come next time, I’ll expect you to show me what you’re hiding too. Please…”

She was the kind of woman who made you swallow without meaning to.

It was a chilling situation, but I recognized I had a lot to do from here on out. So I ran to the workshop, determined to finish the medicine that had almost—almost—come together the night before.

I laid out various types of ingredients and had to think hard.

“…A medicine infused with magic power… strangely, its efficiency comes out at more than double mana… but the problem is the side effects…”

For a Stamina Recovery Potion, I could use both mana and magic power—and I’d confirmed that if those two forces were balanced well, I could reduce the side effects quite a lot.

The ones who suffered for it were Beni, Allena, and Renia—who’d joined me again after a long time. The issue was the recovery amount.

The recovery I wanted was about 50% efficiency in bulk. But when I increased the ratio of magic power, the side effects got severe—while the recovery rate rose to over 100%.

So I ended up putting three women through hardship, but now, using a few hypotheses, I thought I’d found the final magic-power ratio.

‘Mixing it at one-quarter of the mana amount seems most appropriate…’

Yesterday’s batch had been an extremely concentrated mix—mana and magic power at a one-to-one ratio. So I spent the entire night thinking, dug through the lord’s manor library for books on magic power, and formed a few hypotheses after finding a description that magic power was, on average, about four times stronger than mana. With help from my aptitude in Pharmacy, I’d confirmed it was plausible.

“Alright—shall we start mixing?”

There would still be side effects. But the fact I could reduce them to a very mild level was enough.

As I began production, I infused each medicine with amounts of mana and magic power suited to it, and carefully wrote each recipe down on paper.

Afterward, with four different formula-variants of the potion in hand, I packed them separately and left the lord’s manor. I told the maids,

“I’m thinking of building a noble hotel directly under the lord. Could you call Matilda and Linda to the back of the manor?”

“Hotel… what is that?”

“Think of it as a high-end lodging facility. We can’t keep having nobles stay just anywhere forever, can we?”

After confirming a maid ran off, I examined a suitable plot of land while waiting. Soon, Matilda and Linda came to me.

Both looked quite fatigued, so I handed them fatigue-recovery potion from the leather pouch I carried and asked,

“I’m thinking of putting up a fairly large high-end lodging facility here. What do you think?”

“You said the target would be nobles?”

“That’s right.”

Linda scanned the surroundings, and Matilda asked about my intent.

“May I ask why you’re trying to place it inside the lord’s manor grounds?”

“Because I think we may have to deal with nobles of many different ranks going forward. Even if our domain keeps rising, we can’t keep making high-ranking nobles stay outside forever. If they feel they weren’t properly hosted, there’s a risk they’ll drift away as customers in the long run.”

“So you mean you’ll build a dedicated facility here to lodge them.”

I nodded.

“I have no objections. I think you should do as you intend, Milord.”

Matilda spoke first, and Linda soon echoed the same. So I asked the next question.

“How large should the site be?”

“If it’s too tall or too big, it could become unnecessary. Wouldn’t a building of moderate size that fits the domain’s atmosphere be best?”

“If you’re lodging nobles, I think a tall, imposing building that conveys authority might be better.”

Their views differed, but neither was unreasonable. After a brief thought, I said,

“Then let’s do this. We’ll build a tall, grand building for ordinary nobles—and behind it, we’ll place separate annexes of moderate size, like Matilda suggested. Unless multiple high-ranking nobles arrive all at once, building two or three annexes should be enough. What do you two think?”

“No objections.”

They answered in unison.

So I used Construction and pictured the luxury hotels I’d seen while traveling abroad.

Since I could draw anything I imagined up from the earth, I worried that something too tall might feel off-putting. I settled on about eight floors, confirmed the marker that told me I could raise it immediately, and told the two women,

“Step back a bit. And don’t be too shocked.”

They said they understood and retreated. Then I activated Construction.

The building surged up from the ground at speed. As it rose, I reinforced the exterior and added several structural improvements, steadily consuming my magic power.

By the time I thought I’d almost exhausted all my magic power, the two women approached and spoke in admiration.

“This might become our domain’s landmark…”

“It’s a beautiful structure.”

They couldn’t help it—I’d burned magic power extravagantly to carve decorative motifs across every surface I could possibly adorn: beastkin, monsters, plants, even designs associated with the goddess.

Most importantly, along the two main side axes, I raised enormous statues of the beastkin goddess Artemisia, shaping them as if they were wrapping around the building to protect it. That was probably why their admiration sounded so sincere.

“Is it alright?”

“The nobles will never forget this place.”

“Right. Just the fact that they can stay somewhere this magnificent might make them want to come to our domain.”

That was a stretch. Hoping it wouldn’t really go that far, I tossed out another line.

“Should we just use it as staff housing? Nobles coming in droves would be annoying.”

The two women stared at me with expressions that said I’d lost my mind.