108. Next-Gen Magical Device 2 — Magical Ship

Prototype of a small magical vessel.

Shiro came up with the idea while carrying Shestia through the skies during a survey around the capital. What if gravity shielding and inertia control were added—could objects be made to fly?

Shipbuilding in this world is fairly advanced. Fundamentally sailing ships, but the hulls are solidly constructed and quite comfortable. The capital is a lakeside city, with plenty of boats and a thriving shipbuilding industry.

So, as part of a commendation during the capital’s defense, Shiro was granted an old yacht.

A schooner, as it’s called on Earth—two masts with vertical sails, roughly forty meters long and seven meters wide. The whole thing is painted white, with a beautiful hull.

Of course, it was an old vessel no longer in use, so calling it a commendation was a stretch—but to Shiro, it didn’t matter whether it was old or new. He liked its size and shape. He stored it in his inventory.

"Alright, let’s make this fly!" Shiro declared, pulling the ship out. He’d already dug a hole large enough for it using earth magic—his shipyard.

"Wait—fly this? Is that even possible?" Ida asked, her voice sharp with disbelief.

As a specialist in magical devices, she knew full well such a thing was impossible with current alchemy.

"Yeah. A dream vessel!" Shiro said, completely unfazed, eyes alight with excitement.

"...Senior, please calm down. I get it," Kotone said, gently holding Shiro back.

"Shiro senior tends to lose sight of everything around him when he gets excited," Masaki said.

"Shiro-kun, you've always been like this," Makoto said. "You're supposed to be watching over us, but somehow you end up ignoring us completely—pretty much a daily occurrence."

"……Yeah, sorry. I know. I need to calm down. Got it. But! I've got an idea. I'm sure this one'll work!"

Shiro muttered apologies, but soon lost himself in the work anyway.

First, Shiro attached a metal frame to the front and back ends of the hull—about one-tenth of the total length each. Then he connected the front and back frames to the underside and sides of the hull with metal plates.

Four metal plates, shaped like airplane wings and about two meters long, were mounted to the frames via shafts. Each plate embedded with inertia-control drive enchantments.

At the center—where the hull's center also lay—a circular disk about three meters in diameter was installed. This served as the origin object, capable of levitating through gravity shielding. Naturally, the frame attached to it—the entire hull—rose along with it.

The origin object concept meant that everything belonging to it was considered to exist on its local coordinate axis. So even if the origin object itself moved relative to the world, objects on its local axis wouldn't perceive it as motion. Instead, it would feel as though the world itself had shifted.

This idea was borrowed from inventory systems, and managing objects via local coordinates was a crucial concept in advanced magic.

From the world’s perspective, only the origin object participated in physical calculations. Thanks to gravity shielding, the ship could float and move freely.

Additionally, a rudder extended from the lower rear of the ship, and the rudder itself bore a drive enchantment array.

In short, it floats on the central disc and moves and steers using drive enchantment arrays on four propulsion wings and the rudder.

Levitation is purely gravity nullification. The system follows a convenient algorithm: it obeys inertia in inertial frames, and maintains position in rotational frames. So no sudden flying off relative to Earth’s rotation when the spell activates.

Observers stay grounded by planetary gravity and stand on the surface, which spins at high speed. If you don’t behave accordingly, it’s going to be a major accident. Thanks to this algorithm, floating on the planet’s surface feels just like being in zero gravity right in front of you.

The propulsion system works by applying force in the direction set by the enchantment array. By adjusting the orientation of the wing-like arrays, you generate force in that direction. Basically, think of it like jet nozzles. There are four of them, plus the rudder.

Incidentally, why are the propulsion units shaped like wings? So you can switch off the propulsion and still move using sails, just like a regular sailplane.

In that mode, the wings function as control surfaces, just like airplane wings.

Finally, each wing’s movement is driven by magical motors and gears. Cameras are mounted all over the hull, and the helm has monitors—built on the same principle as magical communication devices.

All control is managed by the golem spirit of the magical vessel. A high-level spirit, specifically assigned the vessel’s full control code. Shiro has meticulously analyzed every possible control pattern and encoded them. It’s the spirit’s job to execute those codes.

The vessel’s controls were thus either manual—three steering wheels for left-right rotation, up-down movement, and speed adjustment, along with a lever—or verbal commands given to the spirit, materialized as a green parrot, positioned atop the platform in front of the steering wheels. The model, incidentally, was Kotone.

From now on, every airship Shiro built would inevitably come with a green parrot-type spirit.

Once Shiro completed the full design, everyone set to work interiorizing the ship.

Two cabin decks beneath the main deck; a lounge and dining area on the main deck; the bridge and conference room on the second floor above.

Plenty of cabins were built, so everyone just picked rooms at random.

The ship’s name, proposed by Shiro, was Silfied I.

"Alright, Silfied I, initiating departure," Shiro called, flipping the lever.

The ship rose slowly. Those on board looked out—the crowd murmured in surprise, then winced as a wave of dizziness hit. The world seemed to sink beneath them, even though they themselves hadn’t felt any motion.

"…Damn. This is the same as VR nausea…," Shiro muttered.

"Everyone, get inside the cabins—or just don’t look outside for a while," Shiro shouted.

Right. Due to the anchor object effect, when the anchor moves but you don’t, the world appears to shift. The mismatch between perception and physical sensation triggers vertigo and nausea.

Exactly like the first time you experience flight in a VR headset.

"…Senior, this is kind of a serious problem, isn’t it?" Kotone said. She’d experienced VR herself, so she understood the symptoms.

"Yeah, better not be on deck during ascent or turns. Probably fine during cruise," Shiro thought.

Anyway, aside from VR sickness, everything was working smoothly—everyone was enjoying the aerial tour.

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