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Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 3.1 - Chapter 19




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Finishing My Highbeast and the Wax Stencils 

When we arrived, Damuel and Brigitte were instructed to train on the opposite side of the arena to us. I turned to face Ferdinand as soon as they were gone; it was time to begin. 

“Now then, start by changing the size of your feystone to practice what you learned last time. And take care not to imagine it exploding this time,” he said, reminding me of my past failure as a warning. 

I took out my feystone and tightly gripped it so as to not drop it. This time, as I changed its size, I imagined it as a sturdy bowling ball instead of something flimsy like a balloon. It wasn’t long before I heard Ferdinand’s voice again. 

“Very good. Next, practice locking its shape. Pour mana into it until it is the size you have imagined, then stop. It should be quite easy for you to consciously halt the flow of your mana.” 

Since I regularly stopped and started my mana flow during my offerings to the divine instruments, this step was just as easy for me as Ferdinand had predicted. Once I was able to easily change the ball from the size of a ping-pong ball, to a basketball, to a massive inflatable beach ball, Ferdinand told me that was enough. 

“Now you will practice changing its shape.” 

I turned the round feystone into a pyramid, then a cube, then a spiked pufferfish-looking thing, then a book, and then a pen. It took me a while to form the shapes at first, but as I got used to the process, I became able to instantly turn the feystone into whatever I envisioned in my head. 

“You truly are a fast learner,” Ferdinand said, complimenting me in a tone that suggested a mix of both respect and exasperation. That was rare for him. “Rozemyne, this is your final task: remove all unnecessary thoughts from your mind and imagine an animal that you can ride.” 

When I tried to picture a rideable animal, the first things that came to mind were the bouncy spring rides that could be found all over amusement parks—the kind where you would slide a coin in and then ride for three minutes. 

“Once you have decided on a form, cut off your mana to lock it... What in the world is that?” 

“Um... A (panda) ride.” 

It had a single seat and was pretty small—in fact, it was less like an amusement park ride and more like a toy that a toddler would sit on and move about with its feet. In other words, it was absolutely pathetic. 

While I sadly shook my head at my failed attempt, Ferdinand looked down at it with thoroughly dubious eyes. “Can this thing fly?” 

“...I imagine that would be a little difficult.” 

“It seems to me that ‘a little’ is a vast understatement,” Ferdinand said while rubbing his temples. “You are a fast learner, but your lack of common sense may never be improved.” 

I personally had no idea where his criticisms were coming from; he had asked me to make an animal ride, and I did. 

“Okay. I’ll make it a little bigger so you can tell it’s rideable.” 

“No, focus on the shape before the size. Can you make a lion like this?” Ferdinand asked, brushing a hand against his feystone and forming his highbeast in the blink of an eye. Just seeing that made it clear how trained his movements were. I could only imagine how much practice it would take before I could do that myself. 

“Ehrenfest’s insignia is a lion, and the archduke rides one that has three heads. Children of the archduke tend to use lions as well. It is not mandatory, of course, but it is a long-standing tradition.” 

I had assumed that Sylvester rode a Cerberus-esque lion because he had the mind of a little boy who would like that kind of thing, but as it turned out, there was actually a lot more meaning behind it. And as his adopted daughter, I would be permitted to use a lion myself. 

“Okay. I’ll do my best.” 

Ferdinand’s highbeast was so realistic that I found it kind of scary, so I wanted my own highbeast to be a cute lion. I nodded, trying to picture a lion that I wouldn’t mind riding on, then poured mana into my feystone. It swelled in size and actually took the shape of a lion this time, but despite it growing as big as an amusement park ride would be, Ferdinand grimaced even harder than before. 

“Your aesthetic sense is catastrophically poor. What foul manner of beast have you summoned in place of a lion?” 

“Wait, ‘foul’? This is pretty cute, in my opinion.” I had made a lion to ride on, as requested, but my cartoony take was apparently no good in Ferdinand’s eyes. 

“Can you even ride that thing?” 

“I can try. Oomph.” 

I climbed onto its back and successfully grabbed the handles I had made in place of reins, but it didn’t move like I had thought it would. Well, that wasn’t quite true—it only moved like I thought it would, since it moved based on my thoughts. I had envisioned it as an amusement park ride, and with that in mind, I couldn’t get it up into the air at all; my best efforts to move its feet just caused it to shuffle very slowly. 

That was a big problem. No matter how hard I thought, I just couldn’t work out the motions to make an animal fly. It didn’t feel like it would be leaving the ground any time soon. 

“A lion I can ride, but one that can also fly through the sky...” I murmured to myself, deep in thought. Lions were a bit different from cats, but I had a feeling that I could make a flying highbeast by copying what I had seen in that one famous movie with the cat bus running along power lines. It was one fast bus—definitely one that could run through the sky. 

The highbeast that I actually ended up making was pretty heavily influenced by thoughts of cats, so the Lionbus ended up looking less like a lion and more like a cat with a shower hat for a mane, but, oh well. 

“What in the world is that?” 

“As you can see, it’s a (Lionbus).” 

I stood in front of the Lionbus and a window dropped down to form an entrance for me. I climbed inside, joy welling in my heart because it had moved exactly as I had imagined, and saw that there was a steering wheel and driver’s seat right by the entrance. These parts had probably been made based on my subconscious knowledge of cars, and perhaps due to me having owned a driver’s license back in my Urano days, the area around the driver’s seat was more detailed than the outside of the bus. Incidentally, I only knew how to drive automatic cars. The Lionbus also had a seatbelt so that I wouldn’t have to worry about falling out, and I had a feeling that it would probably be pretty warm in here even during the winter. 

“That is a waste of mana. Make it smaller,” Ferdinand said from outside the bus. 

I tried shrinking it a little, and the microbus-sized highbeast became as small as a one-person car. It had a lion head and legs, just like before. 

“Rozemyne, the form of your highbeast is highly irregular. Will it truly be able to fly?” 

“I’ll give it a try.” 

I sat down in the driver’s seat and fastened my seat belt, then gripped the steering wheel and poured a bit of mana into it as I pressed the accelerator. The lion’s feet started to move. 

“Wow! It moved!” 

I drove laps around the practice area, then thought “fly” while pulling the top of the steering wheel toward me. The lion’s head pointed upward as the whole thing lifted off of the ground like a plane, and my body was pushed against the seat as it steadily gained height. 

“Wooow! It’s flying!” 

It seemed that I could fly around by changing the angle of the steering wheel, and I made it all the way up to the ceiling of the training building. 

“How was that, Ferdinand? I think it’s pretty good,” I said, proudly puffing out my chest once I had gotten out of my Lionbus. But Ferdinand just looked perturbed. 

“...Do you truly intend to ride that?” 

“Absolutely!” 

I could make it smaller when I was alone, or bigger when I needed more people. It would be perfect for any situation, not to mention much safer than most highbeasts as there was no risk of anybody falling off. And, of course, it was infinitely cuter and more functional than Ferdinand’s scary, realistic lion. 

“If you insist on riding that, then I ask that you change the animal you are basing it on. I would rather that bizarre creature not be associated with Ehrenfest’s lion.” 

“Aw, what? But it’s so cute,” I said, looking at my Lionbus. But Ferdinand simply furrowed his brow as he followed my gaze, before marking it off as, quote, unquote, “not beautiful.” 

“Well, whatever you say. I guess I’ll take this opportunity to make it even cuter.” 

“I will repeat that your aesthetic sense is unnatural and will never produce anything even remotely close to cute.” 

He sure was being mean over our tastes being just a little different. In fact, he was being so mean that I wanted to make it even cuter than I was planning to out of spite. 

“...What is this? A feybeast? It looks entirely like a large grun. If this really is the route you wish to take, then at least model it after a shumil; that will make it easier for other nobles to accept.” 

“What’s a shumil? I’ve never seen one, so that’s out of the question. And no, it’s not a grun or whatever. It’s a (red panda). Don’t you think his lovable face and bushy tail are just adorable?” 

“Not in the least.” 

 

There apparently existed a feybeast here that resembled a red panda—also known as a “lesser panda” back in Japan—but given that feybeasts sounded scary, I would rather red pandas not be associated with them. Ferdinand ignored my protests and continued to glare at my highbeast, then pointed sharply at its tail. 

“That tail will do nothing but get in the way. At least make it half as long.” 

“No way! Don’t ask me to cut off Lessy’s tail! That’s too cruel!” 

“You’ve named it now? ...But regardless, the tail is a waste of mana. What purpose does it serve?” 

We stared each other down for a bit. I ultimately did cut the tail down to be half as long, but I had managed to secure the bus shape for my highbeast. Thus, the Pandabus was born. 

“Now then, let us return to the temple at once. You will be riding your own highbeast.” 


After a bit more practice in the room, we went back to the temple on our highbeasts. We stayed pretty low as we flew over the Noble’s Quarter just in case I did fall. 

“Rozemyne, you are going too slowly.” 

“Okay! Mm... BWAH?!” I stepped on the accelerator to go faster, and the Pandabus shot up to an incredible speed. I reflexively pulled my foot away, which cut off my mana like an emergency brake. 

“Eep!” 

Driving a mana-powered highbeast was nothing like driving a normal car, and it was surprisingly tough to keep the flow of my mana consistent. We ended up arriving at the temple before I had mastered the art of slowly putting my mana into the highbeast so that I could maintain a steady speed while flying. 

My guard knights had followed behind us with their shining wands (schtappes) at the ready just in case my Pandabus were to fall, and once they had confirmed that I had landed safely, they made their schtappes and highbeasts disappear. 

“Your struggles are due to your sizable amount of mana. It will no doubt be hard for you to fly while you are still figuring out how to execute minor mana adjustments, but only through struggling will you learn. Practice to the best of your ability such that you will be able to fly comfortably before the Harvest Festival.” 

“...Okay,” I said, my shoulders slumped in sorrow over my failure. 

Ferdinand cleared his throat. “Ahem! You mastered this faster than I had expected. I imagine that you will have at least a little time to read over the coming few days.” 

“Really?!” 

From there, I spent my days practicing to fly my highbeast, organizing the book room, learning the harspiel under Rosina, practicing the prayers for the summer coming of age ceremony and autumn baptism ceremony, and doing other such matters. 

At times, an ordonnanz would fly in to announce a lunch meeting regarding the concert. These were attended by Elvira, who was acting as the lead director; Eckhart, who was the head of security; and Cornelius, who had wormed his way in under the justification that he was my guard. Karstedt was able to enjoy Hugo’s cooking since he ate in the castle with Sylvester, but meals in the knights’ barracks were made by another chef, so Lamprecht had started coming to the temple on his days off for lunch and sweets. 

In short, my attendants would be given no time to rest until our head chef had finished his training, and when I saw how nervous Nicola got whenever she was serving nobles, I couldn’t help but feel a little bad.

It was the evening five days before Ferdinand’s concert. While I was cataloging the books in the book room, Gil came rushing in, his eyes shining. 

“Lady Rozemyne, Zack finished his wax coating machine. I thought you would like to see it.” 

I speedily put away my half-completed catalog, then went to the workshop with Gil and Damuel at once. I instructed the gray priests to continue their work as usual then called out to Lutz and Zack, who were talking about something as they looked over the machine. 

“Good day, Zack. I was informed that you had finished the wax coating machine.” 

“It’s right here, milady.” 

Sitting on the work table was a machine just small enough for an adult to carry with both hands. Lutz was already preparing to melt some wax on it, and there was trombe paper ready nearby. Impressed by how effectively Mark had educated Lutz, I peered at the machine myself. 

“Please take care not to touch the machine, Lady Rozemyne. The flame has been lit so it is already quite hot. We will be melting the wax here, and shall then move this part here like this to wax the paper,” Lutz said in a ridiculously polite tone of voice as he raised his head. There was a neutral expression plastered over his face, but he was no doubt cackling on the inside. 

“In that case, please cut the paper to be as large as my diptych, then run it through the machine.” 

Lutz and Gil split the trombe paper between themselves and began cutting it into A6-sized sheets. While they were doing that, I moved over to Johann, who was working silently some distance away. His machine looked a lot bigger and more complicated than Zack’s, but I could tell that it perfectly matched the plans Zack had made. His ability to make things exactly as they were on a blueprint reminded me that, indeed, Johann’s skills were top-class. 

“How is your machine coming along, Johann?” 

“Ah, Lady Rozemyne. It’s still a work in progress... It should take a couple more days, but I think it’ll be exactly what you want. Zack’s blueprints really are impressive,” he said with a fervent look in his eyes as he took out a few parts and started fitting them together. It was clear that he was focused on his work, so I moved away at once so as to not get in his way. 

“We’re ready, Lady Rozemyne.” 

Lutz slotted the paper between the rollers, which he then rotated by hand rather than using a crank. The core of each roller was made of wood, so while the metal parts heated up and got wax on them, the parts he was touching stayed reasonably cool. 

“I think this should be appropriate for the size of paper that this workshop deals with,” Zack said as he glanced over at the wax coating machine that Johann was making. Given that Zack’s machine required the rollers to be moved by hand, it needed to stay small enough that anyone could use it. But he was right—our workshop only dealt with A4-sized paper for picture books, so the wax stencils didn’t need to be that big. Plus, a small machine meant small rollers, and small rollers needed less melted wax to get the job done. 

“Now then, let’s experiment using the wax that Lutz and Gil made to see what works best.” 

Lutz and Gil had numbered and organized the various combinations of wax and resin that they had made prior to today. There were three types of wax, and each one had been mixed with one of three set amounts of pine resin, making for nine combinations in total. 

“Hmmmph!” 

I could guess that Lutz and Zack had tried out several kinds already, as they were working the machine and spreading the wax with experienced hands. Once they had coated two sheets with the first kind of wax, they cleaned the machine and got to work preparing the next kind. 

Once they were all done, the pieces of wax paper were presented to me. My job was to check the finished products and determine whether they were good enough to be used or not. Gil speedily handed me a file and a stylus, and I started cutting into the paper. 

“This one seems usable enough. This one... not so much. It’s too hard to cut. This one isn’t any good, either. It’s a bit cracked. Oh, but this one is good.” 

As expected, the wax had been evenly distributed thanks to the rollers, and it looked beautiful. It was pliable too thanks to the resin, meaning it didn’t crack when cut into. In the end, I was able to pick the type of wax that seemed the easiest to use out of all the kinds presented to me. 

“Now then, Lutz—please make the wax copying the ratios that you used for this kind. I will need about twenty sheets of wax paper the size of picture book pages. Call Wilma tomorrow to begin cutting them into stencils. We will be using mimeograph printing for the art.” 

“As you wish.” 

Leaving the rest to Lutz and Gil, I looked up at Zack with a bright smile. “Zack, thanks to you, I now have a finished wax coating machine. Your accomplishments are fit for me to award you the title of ‘Gutenberg.’ I ask that you work to spread printing alongside the others.” 

“Y-Yes, milady! Thank you!” Zack immediately knelt down, beamed with pride, but then quickly looked up with a confused expression. “Erm, what do you mean by ‘the others’?” 

“I refer to your fellow Gutenbergs, of course: Johann and Zack the smiths, Heidi and Josef the ink makers, Ingo the carpenter, and Benno and Lutz the merchants. Mark as well, now that I think about it. Plus all those who work in the Rozemyne Workshop. They are all your Gutenberg allies.” 

Zack looked over at Johann in search of an explanation, only to see his coworker hanging his head in abject desolation for some reason. He then rapidly looked between me and Johann. “H-Hold on a second... What? ‘Gutenberg’ isn’t a title reserved for the best craftsman?!” 

“It is a title awarded to all those involved in printing. From this day onward, you may proudly refer to yourself as a Gutenberg,” I said, not about to let someone as skilled as Zack escape my grasp. 

Zack simply blinked in confusion as I left the workshop. Behind me, I could hear Lutz say “I told you it wasn’t anything special” between bursts of laughter, while Gil excitedly exclaimed “I’m a Gutenberg too!” 

Uh huh. Uh huh. Keep up the good work, everyone. 

Upon returning to my chambers, I had Monika go and tell Wilma our plans for tomorrow. It was finally time to begin mimeograph printing, and I started writing down the steps and important notes about the process onto a board in preparation.

“Good morning, Lady Rozemyne,” Wilma said. Lutz and Gil had brought the file and stylus to the orphanage’s dining hall since she said the tables there were easier to work on than the ones in the workshop. 

As Lutz waited for her to get ready, he read aloud the list of instructions that I had prepared explaining how the wax stencil cutting process went. “Place the wax paper over the illustration, then lightly trace the stylus across it. A thin white line should appear where the stylus touched.” 

Once the illustration had been traced onto the wax paper, the next step was to cut the paper on top of the file to form the stencil. The file would be fitted into a wooden frame, then the wax paper was placed over it and pinned to the frame using thin needles. In my Urano days we had held it down with scotch tape, but that didn’t exist here and thin needles were the next best thing. 

“I will now begin,” Wilma said nervously, taking the stylus and beginning to trace the illustration. That seemed easy enough for her, and she quickly finished without any problems. Next, she pinned the wax paper over the file and began cutting it with the stylus. 

“These white parts will turn black when printed. There are styluses of many different thicknesses, so please use the one best suited to the situation.” 

“Understood.” 

Wilma was cutting in the illustration of Ferdinand sitting and playing the harspiel. It went down to his knees so that the entire instrument could be seen, and unlike the full-body illustration we had used for the cut-out stencil, this one showed his face in such great detail that you could immediately tell that it was him in the picture. He would no doubt be furious if he saw it. 

The light sound of scraping could be heard all around the hall. The gray priests watched on with interest at first, but once they realized that it would take a while they returned to their workshop duties. Some children did the same, while others continued watching Wilma work. 

“Lutz, please go and check to see whether the printers are ready,” I said once the wax stencil was almost finished, and Lutz nodded before leaving the dining hall. 

“How is this, Lady Rozemyne?” Wilma asked, looking up from the stencil with a satisfied expression. In her hands was a beautiful illustration, complete with shading that had been done using lines of various widths and intensities. It would probably look different once it was printed, but I could tell at a glance that it was well made. 

“I think the illustration will look just wonderful. Let us go, Wilma.” 

“As you wish, Lady Rozemyne.” 

The printing tools were ready in the workshop, and everyone was waiting for Wilma’s wax stencil. Lutz placed it on top of a sheet of normal paper and, with experienced movements, began rolling ink over it. 

“Lutz, take care to be gentle when putting the ink on. Some of the lines are very thin.” 

“Understood, milady.” 

The ink-covered roller smoothly moved across the netting. When he pulled off the wooden frame, there was a beautifully printed illustration; the thin lines from Wilma’s original picture were all clearly there, as was the shading. The printing had been a success, meaning that we’d now be able to produce a wider variety of art than we could using just the original cut-out stencils. 

“It’s a success, Lady Rozemyne.” 

I felt my heart leap with joy at the finished mimeograph print. We now had one more means of expression available to us. Illustrations weren’t the only thing this would let us print—sheet music had been hard to slice out with cutters, but now it would be beyond simple to print. 

“Now then, Lady Rozemyne—we finished the wax coating machine and have used a lot of expensive paper to complete the wax stencils. Do you think we’ll make a return on our investment?” Lutz asked, holding up the art with a grin. 

The illustration was so stunning that there was no doubt in the world that we’d be making back more than we had invested. I looked at Lutz, Wilma, and everybody else in the workshop before giving a confident smile of my own. 

“We surely will. Your expectations shall be met without fail.” 



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