Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 4.7 - Chapter 6

This and That in the Castle

Once I finished the Dedication Ritual, which Kampfer and Frietack had made the preparations for, my days spent reading in the temple were over. I was going to be returning to the castle with Ferdinand amid a raging blizzard that was steadily becoming even angrier. It wouldn’t be too much longer before we identified this year’s Lord of Winter.

“May I return to the Royal Academy as soon as we are back at the castle?” I pleaded. “I wish to have tea parties with Lady Hannelore—to talk about books with her.”

Ferdinand responded with a look of exceptional displeasure. “I understand how you feel,” he replied, “but I suspect that your fervor will prove too much for you no matter how many feystones we provide.”

“But we just emptied a bunch during the Dedication Ritual. Seems to me like the timing here is perfect.”

“Good grief... That is clearly not an option. Consider the hardships you would be imposing on others. And in either case, there is much that still needs to be discussed before you can return to the Royal Academy.”

So he said, but I couldn’t imagine what else there was to talk about, given how many lunch meetings we had shared at the temple.

I spoke about the ternisbefallen, he mumbled to himself about his research on the ingredients Hartmut had sent over... I mean, what else was there?

“Erm, what will we be discussing?” I asked.

Ferdinand fixed me with a stern glare. Apparently, we still needed to evaluate the power of my water gun, look over the information on Roderick that Justus had gathered, and discuss what Sylvester had found out about the Spring Prayer ceremonial stages—all things that needed to be done in the castle.

And so, I followed Ferdinand to the castle amid the raging blizzard. Norbert and Rihyarda opened the doors for us when we arrived. Cornelius and Leonore were there too, having returned after finishing their classes. It was strange—now that I saw them together after learning of their circumstances, it was hard not to see them as a couple. The two had no doubt gone to Leonore’s home and formalized matters.

“Welcome back, Lady Rozemyne.”

“And so I have returned,” I said. “Cornelius—I see your mystery partner is Leonore. Was I the only one who didn’t know?”

“Not the only one, I’m sure,” Cornelius replied, but his expression said the absolute opposite. Leonore just smiled, remaining one step back.

“So, did you finish greeting her parents?” I asked. “Did they protest?”

“Everything has been dealt with,” he noted casually. His “yeah, I’m a real man” vibe kind of annoyed me for some reason. At first, I thought it might be because I was the only one being left out, but then I noticed Damuel’s smile twitch. That alone calmed the frustration storming inside of me.

Damuel must be annoyed that he’s struggling to find a partner while Cornelius, who’s younger than him, had no trouble finding someone almost his age with a similar amount of mana and status. I feel you, Damuel. I feel you.

“Now, then—a change of guards,” Norbert said, prompting the guards to switch places. Angelica and Damuel were going to have several days off after guarding me nonstop in the temple, and they would use this time in part to prepare for the Lord of Winter. Cornelius and Leonore would be entrusted with guarding me in the castle.

After seeing Angelica and Damuel off to the knight dormitory, I turned back to face Cornelius and Leonore. As soon as our eyes met, I noticed Cornelius tense up a little.

Come, now. You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t bully or tease you.

“May I hear of the Royal Academy?” I asked. “I looked over the questions sent to me while I was in the temple, but I know little else of what has been happening there.”

“Of course.”

On the way back to my room, I listened to Cornelius and Leonore give a report on the Royal Academy. Unlike last year, Ehrenfest had apparently hosted several tea parties of its own through Charlotte, and the shared copy of Royal Academy Love Stories had grown rather popular among female students of top-ranking duchies.

“I wish to return to the Royal Academy at once to speak with them,” I said.

“Please don’t,” Cornelius replied, stopping me with the same consternation I had seen from Ferdinand. “You will only collapse again. Consider how much that would make your retainers suffer.”

My belongings from the temple were brought to my room, and I spent my time reading while watching Rihyarda and Ottilie unpack everything.

That evening, I ate dinner with Ferdinand and the archducal couple. The main topic of discussion was Melchior’s baptism. It was due to be carried out alongside the spring feast, as he was born in the spring, and it ideally needed to be done before the nobles all returned to their provinces.

“So,” I said, “this baptism’s going to be similar to the winter one, except there won’t be a performance wherein he plays the harspiel.”

“Yup,” Sylvester replied.

“That reminds me—did you find out anything about the stages?”

Sylvester had been fishing through the exclusive archduke archive in search of documents related to the Spring Prayer stages, since other giebes now wanted to fix theirs. He explained that he had found documents on the magic circle itself, but not on the stages.

“There’re just so many documents,” he said. “Too many for me to look through on my own. Things would be a lot easier if we knew the stage’s formal name—or the period when they were initially made, at least. Problem is, all that information has been lost.”

Sylvester was exhausted from several consecutive days of searching. There were so many documents on rituals and magic circles that he couldn’t find the ones that actually mattered. This was my chance. I raised my hand high into the air.

“I’ll help you, my dear adoptive father!”

“No. Only the aub can go into that archive,” he said, shooting me down in an instant with a shake of his head. Life was cruel.

“But why?” I asked. “Are you saying I still can’t enter, even though I only want to help?”

“Yep.”

“So, you couldn’t even have Florencia help you?”

“Nope.”

An archive that can only be entered by the aub, not their partner or adopted daughter... Only the aub can enter... Only the aub...

“Rozemyne, I hope you are not thinking of becoming the next aub simply so that you may enter his archive,” Ferdinand said pointedly. I recoiled at once; it was like he had read my mind.

“Whatever do you mean, Ferdinand? I would never... Ohohohohoho...” I tried to ease the tension with a laugh, but his eyes remained as sharp as ever.

Look, you don’t need to stare at me like that. I already know I can’t become the aub. I won’t do anything that’ll force you into killing me.

Ferdinand continued to glare at me for the rest of dinner. Once we had all eaten, Melchior came to say goodnight. I did the same and then moved to leave, but before I could escape, Ferdinand called out to me.

“Rozemyne, come to the training grounds of the Knight’s Order at third bell tomorrow,” he said. “I wish to observe the power of your new weapon.”

As instructed, I went to the knights’ training grounds at third bell. I started with some exercise, and Ferdinand arrived while I was building up my stamina. He was with Karstedt, a pumped-up Bonifatius, and Sylvester, who was always curious about new things. They all had their retainers with them, so the group was pretty sizable.

“Now, Rozemyne—show us your new weapon,” Bonifatius said.

“As you wish, Grandfather.” I took out my schtappe and chanted “water gun” to morph it.

“Never heard that chant before. Never seen a weapon like this either...” Sylvester remarked. He looked at Ferdinand to see what he thought.

Ferdinand nodded with his arms crossed, his eyes locked on my water gun. “The chant is unfamiliar to me as well,” he said. “As is the weapon. How do you use it?”

“My understanding is that there’s mana inside it,” I said, shaking the translucent water gun to show the liquid it contained. This must have made Ferdinand curious, as he brought his face closer with his brow furrowed. “It’s not something that can serve as a weapon unless you really focus on using it as one.”

“What do you mean?” Ferdinand asked.

“It was a toy, originally. It could squirt out water, but it wouldn’t do any damage.” I demonstratively fired the water gun, which caused a small stream of water to splash onto the ground and disappear. Ferdinand nodded in response.

Sylvester’s eyes sparkled at my demonstration. “Alright. Now use it as a weapon, Rozemyne,” he said, pointing at a target dummy. “I wanna see that side of it. You said it works like Ferdinand’s arrows, right?”

I nodded and then aimed at the dummy a short distance away. With my eyes closed, I visualized Ferdinand’s arrows... and pulled the trigger.

“Ooh!”

The liquid shot from my gun divided into several streams, took on the shape of arrows, and then noisily pierced the dummy.

“Amazing!” Karstedt and Bonifatius roared with approval.

Sylvester’s dark-green eyes widened. “That’s a lot different...” he muttered to himself.

All three of them looked surprised, but Ferdinand alone approached with a gravely serious expression, took my hand, and examined the water gun closely. He had seemingly marked it as a subject to be researched.

“Hm. I see... This part moves to fire out the mana, then?” Ferdinand asked, twisting my wrist and forearm to get a better view of the water gun’s interior. He was so overcome with interest that he presumably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!

“Ferdinand, could you not twist my arm like that?” I asked. “It really hurts.”

“Ah, my apologies. But more importantly—it seems that the amount of liquid within this weapon determines how much mana you can fire at once. If you were to make a larger version, could you not increase its power?”

He’s not listening! He’s not listening at all!

He completely ignored my aching arm and simply began muttering about ways to improve the weapon’s firepower and the amount of mana it would need to shoot out. I knew from my experience discussing his research with him at lunch that when he got like this, he blocked out his surroundings entirely. He would remain in his own little world until he came to a conclusion that he deemed satisfying.

Of course, I wasn’t willing to wait however long that would take, so—“Rucken!”—I swiftly unmorphed my water gun.

Ferdinand glanced up with a start, the subject of his research having suddenly vanished. “I was not done yet,” he said with a displeased glare.

I glared back at him with equal intensity. “Do listen to what people tell you. I said you were hurting my arm. Apologizing does not mean you can continue twisting it.”

Our staring contest continued, but only for a moment—my attention was drawn away from Ferdinand when Bonifatius suddenly roared, “Wahtaaah grun!” He had thought to try out the new weapon for himself, it seemed, but his schtappe didn’t change.

“Hrm? It didn’t work...” Bonifatius said, looking down at his schtappe in confusion.

“Your pronunciation wasn’t quite right,” I noted. “Repeat after me: (water gun).”

“Water grun?”

“Not exactly. (Water gun).”

The people in this world always seemed to struggle with Japanese words. As Bonifatius and I started to practice, Ferdinand crossed his arms and tapped his fingers rhythmically, muttering each syllable after me. Then, he produced his schtappe.

“Water gun,” Ferdinand said, and the transparent weapon appeared in his hand. The cheap, playful-looking toy was so ill-suited to his expressionless face that I wanted to beat myself up for creating it in the first place. It was downright surreal, like the protagonist of a hard-boiled detective movie arming themselves with a squirt gun.

“I need only shoot it as I would an arrow, correct?” Ferdinand asked. He made no move to question the weapon’s appearance and simply aimed at the training dummy with his cheap water gun. The mana that fired out was larger than mine, morphed into more arrows, and traveled incomparably faster. “Hm. This is quite a useful tool.”

He had torn the dummy to shreds with a single attack.

Ferdinand gazed at the water gun in his hand and started to contemplate something. Perhaps he intended to use it as his primary weapon from now on. Since you could use it with one hand, it was perfect to wield while riding a highbeast. Judithe had given up on using it because it required so much mana, but Ferdinand with his abundance of mana wouldn’t encounter that problem at all.

There was, however, one remaining issue—the gun looked painfully lame. I shook my head on instinct as I pictured Ferdinand making it his main weapon.

“Ferdinand, don’t use the water gun,” I said. “It doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“It’s uncool. I want you to use something heroic, not a children’s toy. You look way more striking with a bow.”

I wish I had the power to make a cool gun! Then, this wouldn’t have happened...

Despite my obvious emotional torment, Ferdinand watched me with a look of sheer boredom. “You must value the usage and power of a weapon over its appearance, Rozemyne.”

“Appearances are extremely important!” I shot back. “At the very least, you need to make it bigger like you said, or make it black so that you can’t see inside. Just do something! I won’t be able to stand it otherwise.”

“I see. Rozemyne likes heroic things...” Bonifatius muttered and then asked me whether his weapon had my seal of approval.

At this point, Grandfather, I’ll approve anything that isn’t a water gun.

Once the demonstration of my water gun was complete, we moved to the archduke’s office to discuss making a version that wouldn’t look quite so jarring for Ferdinand to use. Sylvester agreed that coolness was important—apparently, he wanted to use one too.

We cleared the room, and I took a seat on the other side of the table from my guardians. I couldn’t help but sigh, and that was when Ferdinand turned deeply serious. “Rozemyne, where did you learn of water guns? You continually reference them as the toy of a child, but I have never heard of nor seen such a thing. I can only conclude that it cannot be found in Ehrenfest.”

“At first, I did it without much thought,” I explained. “I simply muttered ‘(water gun)’ in (Japanese)—my language rather than yours—and it happened. But the words ‘printer,’ ‘(copier),’ and ‘(scissors)’ didn’t do anything.”

“Copier? Scissors?” Ferdinand repeated. His enunciation was clear, but his expression suggested that he was still confused. Copiers were hard to explain, but scissors already existed in this world.

“Erm, (copiers) don’t exist here, but (scissors) are, um, scissors. Those are normal, no? But they didn’t work as a spell for some reason.”

“Schere,” Ferdinand said, causing his schtappe to morph into a pair of scissors. As it turned out, a spell for them already existed; maybe that was why speaking in Japanese hadn’t done anything. “For scissors, you chant ‘schere.’ If copiers do not exist here, perhaps your imagination is lacking? If you cannot envision the internal structure with perfect clarity, the schtappe will not be able to recreate it. Recall the way I carefully analyzed the internal structure of the water gun earlier.”

In short, it wouldn’t be easy for me to recreate copiers or printers with a schtappe.

Noooooo! It’s impossible for me to perfectly imagine every part of a copier. This sucks. It would have been so convenient!

My guardians ignored my disappointment about the limited utility of schtappes and focused their battle on changing how the water gun looked. Seeing that, I realized once again that Sylvester and Wilfried really were father and son.

In the end, Ferdinand settled on a water gun that was somewhat larger and pure black, making it similar in appearance to an actual gun. Unfortunately for me, I couldn’t shake the idea of water guns being transparent from my mind, so I was unable to change how my own one looked.

Now Ferdinand ended up hard-boiled instead of me. Hmph!

Life in the castle continued normally from that point onward. I continued to refuse meetings related to the Haldenzel Miracle while having Elvira, Henrik, and others attend as many meetings about the printing and paper industries as I could, striving to maximize the number of printing workshops.

It had become my morning ritual to look over the children’s playroom, where I searched for suitable candidates to become my retainers, and then go to the knights’ training grounds to do my exercises. I sometimes made eye contact with Nikolaus, but he didn’t come over and speak to me even once. I knew that Cornelius was on guard against him, so I didn’t feel much inclined to approach him either.

We also discussed my taking Roderick’s name. According to the intelligence that Justus had gathered, Roderick’s relationship with his parents had completely deteriorated ever since the Ivory Tower incident had sullied his name.

“Milady,” Justus said in a hushed voice, “please allow Roderick to separate from his parents, should he request it.”

“But why...?” I asked, blinking in surprise.

“Lord Ferdinand forbade me from telling you the details, milady, as they would make you fly into an uncontrollable fury. You are always too soft on those you view as family and excessively harsh on those who threaten them. If you are still desperate to know, you may attempt to have your own scholars learn the truth. And after Roderick has given you his name, it would be simple to force him to tell you everything.”

“...I would not want to do something like that,” I said, my lips pursed. Justus chuckled and noted that he had expected me to say that.

“Milady, those of us who give our names are prepared to prioritize our lord or lady above ourselves and our parents,” Justus explained. “It would be unbearable for our families to bring any suffering whatsoever to those we serve. If you wish to understand Roderick’s feelings, I would suggest observing him from a distance.”

“Understood. I thank you ever so much for telling me, Justus. This will guide me well.”

After discussing matters with Sylvester, it was decided that Roderick would receive a room in the knight dormitory after giving me his name. I would have given him an attendant room in the northern building—like I had done with Philine—but he was a boy and was therefore barred from entering them. The castle had no dormitory for scholars, and since they already stayed at the knight dormitory when necessary, I was opting to continue that with Roderick.

The Lord of Winter appeared the day before I was scheduled to return to the Royal Academy, so I had to hole up in the northern building. Of course, I granted the Knight’s Order the blessing of Angriff the God of War before hiding away. I was the only person in the northern building—retainers not included—so mealtimes were a bit lonely.

Ottilie looked worried while serving me, so I took the hint and asked about Hartmut. “His partner, you say?” she replied with a troubled smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest clue.”

“Truly?” I asked. “But his graduation ceremony is this year. He needs someone to escort, does he not?”

“He did mention that he planned to court a girl of another duchy to assist with gathering intelligence. However... Ah. He listed the names of so many girls before leaving this year that I cannot say which he decided on. He said that he would make his decision while attending...”

“Hartmut is courting that many girls at once?!”

Please, Hartmut! Share at least one of them with Damuel!

Ottilie hurriedly shook her head. “No, no, Lady Rozemyne. Hartmut had not quite escalated to courting last year. His interest in such matters—in all matters, in fact—has generally been nonexistent. Now, he seems to be directing all his interest at you, Lady Rozemyne, so perhaps he has spread his romantic net wide and shallowly to gather information for your sake?”

Wait a second... Doesn’t that mean the girls all think they’re dating Hartmut, when in reality, he feels nothing for any of them? He’s gonna be lucky to even reach his graduation!

“It troubles me that he resembles his father in that way,” Ottilie said, “but I am not too worried. I am sure he will find a girl who needs him as much as he needs her. He will introduce me to whomever he decides on at the Interduchy Tournament, and I am quite looking forward to that,” she added with a refined giggle.

I couldn’t bring myself to grab this smiling mother by the shoulders and start yelling that we needed to intervene before the walls of the Royal Academy were painted red with her son’s blood. It would be easier for me to rush there and deal with things myself, anyway. I needed to make sure that Hartmut survived the comeuppance he was sure to receive.

I focused on reading while praying that Hartmut hadn’t already met an untimely demise, and the next thing I knew, the Lord of Winter had been slain. At last, clear skies were returning to Ehrenfest. I had enjoyed many a day immersed in my books and was already feeling reluctant about returning to the Royal Academy.

I put on my dark-yellow cape and brooch, then made my way to the teleportation room as Rihyarda hurried me along. Lessy moved lethargically to reflect my mood.

“Hurry up, Rozemyne. Cornelius and Leonore have already returned,” Ferdinand said, standing imposingly before the teleportation room door.

“Can I truly not stay in the castle until the Interduchy Tournament?” I asked. “I would much rather continue my reading for a little bit longer.”

“Fool. Do you even hear what you are saying? You have much to do; the ternisbefallen inquiry and tea party with Drewanchel will not resolve themselves.”

“There’s no need for me to hurry—the Drewanchel tea party won’t be until the Gilberta Company delivers the hairpin, right?”

I was returning to the Royal Academy earlier than usual this year, so the Gilberta Company would be delivering the hairpin to the castle, which would then be sent to me via teleporter. Thus, the tea party with Drewanchel was planned to be held when it arrived.

“Are you not the one who obsesses over visiting the Royal Academy’s library?” Ferdinand asked.

“I am, but at this point in the year, I’ll never manage to secure a carrel. Besides, are you not the one who said my return to the Academy would inconvenience all the students who haven’t yet finished their classes?”

I couldn’t go to the library, and my propensity to collapse meant I was forbidden from attending tea parties with Hannelore. In other words, there was absolutely nothing for me to look forward to at the Royal Academy. My time was much better spent in the castle, reading my books.

I don’t want to deal with the ternisbefallen inquiry or the tea party with Drewanchel that will absolutely involve royalty in some way. I’ll end up getting yelled at after both of them.

As I slumped my shoulders, Ferdinand picked me up and plopped me down onto the teleportation circle. He then looked down at me, his brows drawn together in a tight frown. “The prince will no longer be wandering about the Academy,” he said. “You have enjoyed more than your fill of reading this year. Now, use this time to accumulate some much-needed socializing experience. Your shortcomings are already having an impact on your learning. Accept your fate.”

“Fine...” I replied with an unenthused nod, having no choice but to concede. “Bye.”