I had a lot to prepare if I wanted this trip to be even remotely comfortable. With a large party, it would take three weeks just to reach the Feltio marquisate’s capital—and another three to get from there to the Shelvia border. One month to a month and a half each way. Brutal.
So I decided to build a proper carriage—one of my special models. The design I had in mind was based on a legendary luxury sightseeing train from my previous world, the “Shichisei.” For the record, I’d never ridden it. I only ever stared at photos online, thinking, Someday…
Working from that hazy memory, I started on an ultra-luxury coach I named the Cullinan. The frame was the usual wood-block construction, but I unified the interior with rich, dark wood on the ceiling, walls, and floor, then set the doors and window frames with gold filigree. The deep, bed-convertible armchairs used black hides from magical beasts for the cushions—decadent, but tasteful. I fitted wooden blinds to the windows and hung beautifully worked lamps to finish the mood.
At a glance it looked like something royalty would ride in—sumptuous without being gaudy. The exterior got attention too: black lacquer base with restrained gold ornamentation. Quiet, expensive confidence.
Proof of concept: the moment Apollo saw the finished carriage, he let out a stunned gasp.
“Oh! I was inwardly panicking when I heard you were starting now, but to build this in a single day!”
He all but danced a circle around the coach, inspecting every angle.
Given he’s with the world’s largest guild and has seen half the courts on the continent, surprising him meant I’d done well. I was pleased with it myself. “It took some fussing, but the ride’s going to be amazing.”
“It was astonishingly fast,” he muttered, half impressed, half exasperated, peering at the wheels, the suspension springs, the joinery—merchant eyes already pricing it out.
While he circled, Row returned from provisioning. “Lord Van! Clothing changes, preserved rations, and the full set of spices are ready!”
“Perfect. Thanks!”
The essentials for a long road were set. Kamshin and Til hustled over to the freight wagons and stood on tiptoe to check the heaps of cargo.
“That’s… a lot,” Kamshin breathed.
“Oh! So many spices! We can cook like we do at home!” Til chimed, delighted.
Arte covered her smile with a hand. “The road would be harsh under normal circumstances, but with your preparations, Lord Van, I expect we’ll travel quite comfortably.”
“Right. We’ll be keeping to the Scuderia highways even out here on the frontier—fewer dangers.”
That was what I said out loud. Inwardly, I was less certain. We’d be a small party this time. I’d never been far from Dee and Arv for long, and Espada had to remain in Seat. Most of the Seat Knights would stay to defend the village.
So it would be Row, Arte, Kamshin, Til, and an elite detachment of repeating-crossbowmen. Not many. Jerinetta might try a different line of attack, like what happened to Count Ferdinand’s lands. Unlikely, given we’d planted a fortress city squarely in their belly and could march on the royal capital at any time… but still, traveling light makes you think.
Compared to when I first arrived in Ceat, our situation was paradise—but maybe I’d grown too used to peace.
“…Alright. We can finish packing today. Let’s depart tomorrow morning. Anyone missing anything?”
Arte, Kamshin, and Til nodded—then Til’s eyes flew wide as she spun back to me. “Ah! The Apkallu and the dwarves asked for an audience when they heard you’d be away for a while!”
“What? They’ve been asking for three days.”
“I… vaguely overheard it the day before yesterday…”
“You overheard it. Got it.”
She giggled “ehehe” and tried to brazen it out. I sighed and went to see them that evening.
The Apkallu leaders, Radavesta and Aftobas, met me with solemn faces. “Van. We heard you go to war.”
“For your fortune in battle, we gift this stone.”
They held out an ore chunk—larger and darker than usual.
“…Wait, is this…?”
I’d received two similar gifts before. Judging by the color and sheen, this had to be that metal from legend. They both nodded gravely.
“This is a stone even we rarely see.”
“Lately, following humans, we call it orichalcum.”
I accepted it with both hands, trying not to hop with joy. “Thank you. I’ll use it well.”
It weighed heavy in my palms—a great big piece.
With this, that plan moves forward.
The Heroes’ set. Recently, Ort and the others finally completed matching suits in mithril; with the unified look, they didn’t look out of place even beside the royal guard. If I outfitted Dee and Kamshin in orichalcum…
Yes, I’d been quietly angling for orichalcum for exactly that.
I was happily carrying it back to the manor for safekeeping when I ran into the dwarves I’d planned to visit next. Havel led the group; he raised a hand, grinning—then froze.
“Oi—what in—!”
“Havel! Why are you stopping!” roared the dwarves behind him. They noticed me, waved—then froze just like he had.
Til snorted. “Master Havel, you all look like statues.”
That seemed to unstick them. As one, they leaned forward, eyes demon-wide, and stared at the ore in Kamshin’s arms.
“H-hey—HEY!?”
“T-that’s o-orichalcum ore, isn’t it!?”
“And bigger than anything I’ve ever seen…!”
The square erupted.
“Kamshin, hide it!”
“R-right!”
“Too late for that!” Havel barked, and the dwarves surged closer with the feverish look of smiths who’d just sniffed a once-in-a-lifetime commission. I tightened my grip on the prize and tried to smile like a responsible adult who absolutely wasn’t about to sprint.
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