The warm tea is delicious on a chilly day. The scones were also warm and topped with white cream and red jam.
Patrick, who does not like anything too sweet, only drank tea without touching the pastries.
I put down my teacup and said.
“Rita makes the best tea, after all.”
“I agree.”
“And now you’re just thinking she can’t taste the difference, can she?”
I read his thoughts when I heard his curt reply. Even I can tell if a cup of tea is good or bad. When I was poisoned with far more than the lethal dose for an average person, I felt a sense of discomfort.
Patrick takes his mouth off the cup and denies it with a fed-up look on his face.
“I don’t think so.”
“Really? But you thought I was getting into trouble again, didn’t you?”
“That’s true.”
All the scones were gone as I enjoyed such a peaceful moment and an empty conversation.
“You thought I was overeating right now, right?”
“Yeah.”
Patrick says as if it were a matter of course.
It surprised me. While I was aware that I was a pain in the ass, I had never self-identified as a glutton. I like sweets, but am not “strong” enough to always have a handful of lollipop candy.
Out of curiosity as to what he thought of me, I asked him a question
“Am I that gluttonous?”
“I don’t think so. Yumiela just eats as much as she can get her hands on.”
It was thought of as a dog. No matter how full they are, if they are offered something to eat, they eat it anyway.
No, they don’t leave anything behind. They just don’t forget the wasteful spirit.
I’m sure Patrick doesn’t mean to say I eat as much as I find, but it’s starting to hit home. Thinking about how others besides him perceive me that way is painful. Not wanting to open any wounds, I take the conversation back to when we were on our way home.
“I don’t need to talk about how I don’t waste food. The carpenter I was talking about while walking around, I was wondering if level 20 wasn’t too low.”
“Yumiela’s senses are off when it comes to levels.”
Thanks for the expected response. That’s not what I meant. The assumption that the hurdles to raising the level are fairly divergent between me and the public is still puzzling.
“I know the Archit company has high-level craftsmen, so that they can shorten the construction period. From what I’ve heard, though, the best ones are former adventurers who are level 20. The others aren’t even level 10? That would make them stronger than most people, but I didn’t think it would be enough to make a dramatic difference.”
“I see what you mean. The company claims to be high-level, but many of its members have no experience in fighting monsters. There seem to be many other factors that cause them to build buildings in such a short time.”
They’ve never fought monsters before; that’s level 1. What is a high level? I’ll go over there and make sure the overhype isn’t overhyped.
Nevertheless, I am curious about other factors. I listened to Patrick.
“First of all, a mage. Having one person who can handle earth magic makes all the difference. The other factor is… hmm? Wasn’t Yumiela with us when we were shown the model?”
“Model?”
What model? Is it a 1/700 ship model, or is it a 1/144 robot? If you have more than one kind of grey paint, it’s a 1/700, and if someone buffs before painting, no matter what, it’s a 1/144.
But I don’t know what Patrick’s intended model is. As I searched my memory, Patrick said,
“The model of the building to be built. There are two ways to build it: the normal way and a unique way. They showed a demonstration with a few pillars and simplified work, but the construction strength of both is the same. …Oh, Yumiera wasn’t there at that time.”
“I would have liked to have seen it. Was I informed?”
“That day, Yumiela was in the dungeon.”
“Sorry.”
The timeline would have been before meeting with #2 and breaking the cap, which would have been an unnecessary dungeon exploration.
Aside from my messiness, I understood how the building could be completed quickly. So, there are fewer pillars. Knowing that there are few pillars, only one thing bothers me.
“Is it going to be all right?”
“It doesn’t have to be that scruffy. The construction methods of a large estate and an ordinary house are completely different. Especially, the nobleman’s house is built in the style of a fortress, so it is stronger than it needs to be.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being strong, is there?”
“The strength required of a fortress against siege weapons and its strength against natural disasters, such as earthquakes and storms, are two different things. They explained, based on the demonstration of the model, that it is strong enough to withstand disasters. Their construction method is perfect.”
I haven’t seen the model, but the description sounds familiar. When asked which measure I would take better, stone throwers or earthquakes, I’m sure….
“Now I remember. I said I wanted it fast and cheap.”
“We have to finish it in time for the wedding. It can’t be helped.”
Although he said it couldn’t be helped, he seemed to feel as little interest as I did and felt it didn’t matter either way.
It’s a reasonable decision, but it’s not just my house; it’s his house, too. It worries me whether Patrick consents to it, although I know he is okay with it. The look on his face again suggests that he is deeply troubled by something. Then, he opens his mouth with a serious look on his face.
“Speaking of wedding—”
“Oh, it’s not about the estate?”
“It’s about the dress preparation.”
“Don’t worry. I have taken the proper measurements and ordered the dress as long as I can wear it. It’s too much trouble to go to the capital.”
“…All right, then.”
“What?”
Are we done talking about wedding dresses? The way he broached the subject was too unnatural. Puzzled, I kept my mouth shut to avoid missing the rest of the conversation.
“Um, what do you say we make some equipment? You know, armour, that kind of stuff.”
“I don’t need it, it’s not strong enough.”
I once considered buying full-plate armour. But that stuff isn’t as hard as it looks, and is not flexible enough to break from the inside out if you move. Metal armour is more like a restraining device. There is also leather armour, but the skin is harder.
That’s why I don’t need the equipment. Presumably, the same reason Patrick doesn’t use armour, and I’m not sure why he’s suggesting it now.
“It doesn’t have to be defensive. For example, you could add a feature that would make that battle more advantageous.”
“Does that mean I can eject the wire and move it around?”
“If it’s technically feasible.”
“Does that mean I can put a close-in pile bunker in the elbow area?”
“If it’s technically feasible.”
“And the purge feature?”
“If it’s technically feasible.”
Wait, there are so many things that I can’t keep up with my thinking. For starters, wires are necessary, but where should they be placed? We could put them on the waist, the arms, or asymmetrically on the left and right. It might be possible to suspend spare parts on the back… oh, my dreams are expanding so much that I can’t stop dreaming.
Where should I put it? I move my arms and other parts to check my body’s motion range.
While having the best time, Patrick makes a frightening remark.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!”
“You have to take measurements to make armour, right? Yumiela hates taking measurements—”
“I’ll do it! I’ll take the measurements, I’ll do anything!”
No equipment because I don’t want to have to take measurements… I won’t continue the miserable behaviour.
Patrick seemed to have other things on his mind and asked for confirmation.
“You already know your size, so you don’t need to take measurements—”
“I won’t say no!”
“Trying on clothes is useless—”
“I won’t refuse!”
“Going to the capital is—”
“I’m going! I’ll go to the capital and I’ll dutifully take my measurements and try on the clothes.”
This all sounds like something I would say. No wonder he was worried.
After my frantic series of denials, Patrick finally shook his head.
“Then let’s go. We’ll go to the capital by carriage, and we’ll take measurements and try on the clothes. Afterwards, we’ll provide you with as much equipment as is technically feasible.”
“Thank you, Patrick!”
You’re the best. What else could I possibly be so happy about?
Somehow, they had even decided on a horse-drawn carriage as a means of transportation, but I didn’t care about that.
Patrick got her right where he wants. Let’s see what ends up being technically feasible~
She see food, she eat.
Thx for the chapter!
Yumiela with a utility belt like Batman