第１９３５堀：想定よりも (Part1)
Chapter 1935: Beyond Expectations
Side: Seraria
“...And so, if we can commit every single mage and blacksmith currently in Weed, we expect to have it completed in just seven days!”
The one making this bold declaration with absolute confidence is Narjia, the pride of Weed and our foremost researcher in magic, mana, weaponry, and development.
Well, technically her primary profession is blacksmithing and metallurgy, but let’s set that aside for a moment. First things first...
“““No, that’s impossible.”””
We all shot down Narjia’s proposal immediately.
No matter how urgent the need, we cannot simply pull every mage and blacksmith in Weed to develop a land battleship. To prevent the information leaks we discussed previously, such a massive mobilization is out of the question. People would notice the shift in personnel instantly, and hiding it would be nearly impossible.
Actually, the fact that we are building a shipyard is already known, but if we were to mobilize that many people, every nation would realize something major is happening. It’s not that I particularly care if they find out, but we aren’t in a state where we need to exert that much effort.
Furthermore, both the mages and blacksmiths are the backbone of Weed’s industry; pulling them all away would bring everything else to a grinding halt and cause utter chaos. Therefore, it’s simply not an option.
Narjia, of course, isn’t oblivious to this...
“I see. Well, I suppose that is asking too much. In that case, please look at this.”
With that, she used magic to send a document flying toward us. I was relieved she hadn’t been serious about the first plan. And on that document...
“This is more realistic. I’ve outlined the efficiency rates based on incremental increases in personnel and resource allocation.”
Indeed, the new document detailed work efficiency based on a staggered increase in staff. Instead of the absurd total mobilization she suggested earlier, this involved adding people in groups of ten to fifty—a pace that felt, well, just barely manageable.
Then, I noticed something.
“Wait a minute. This says the development period is twelve days, but you said it would take seven days if we used every mage and blacksmith in Weed, right?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What’s with this discrepancy?”
In terms of numbers, the difference is nearly a hundredfold. I didn’t expect it to be a hundred times faster, but even so, isn’t twelve days quite slow?
“What are you talking about? Even if we added that many people, the time it would take to explain the process, assign tasks, build break areas, provide meals, and create shift schedules would eat up all our time!”
“““Ah...”””
That response left us with nothing but agreement. Numbers are power, certainly, but they cannot be put to work instantly. The preparation required to ensure that many people can operate effectively is immense. When you consider that, the very idea that a total mobilization could yield results in under a week is what’s truly absurd.
“...I understand the situation. Still, I’ve seen the blueprints for the land battleship, but is it really something that can be finished in just twelve days?”
That is the real issue. Originally, this facility was meant to build warships for the sea, and the production plan was based on a monthly progress schedule. Even with the necessary personnel and materials, is it really possible to pull this off in just twelve days?
“To be honest, depending on the test runs, the schedule might shift. Twelve days is just the target for the initial completion.”
“Well, that makes sense. It’s our first time building something like this, and that includes test runs in the wilderness to refine its performance. Still, I’m worried about the fundamental question: can we actually build something that moves?”
Exactly. The development period is just too short. Even the warships we planned to build in Weed were estimated to take half a year, so twelve days seems far too strange.
“Ah, the circumstances are a bit different there,” said Aetheri, answering my question instead of Narjia.
“What do you mean?”
“Simply put, while we are leading the warship production, the actual labor is done by the craftsmen. I mean the people working at the shipyard. You understand that, right?”
“I see. So, you and the others provide the guidance, but the actual assembly is done by the craftsmen—the staff?”
“Exactly. That’s why there’s a difference in speed between us doing it and them doing it. Especially when it comes to moving materials.”
Aetheri finished her sentence and used magic to float an object in front of me.
“What is this?”
“It’s the armor for the land battleship. We need to move and install pieces that are at least ten meters square.”
“That’s difficult to do with just a little bit of magic.”
The armor piece in front of me felt heavy and dense. Even though it was only about ten centimeters square, it had significant heft. To lift something on a ten-meter scale would not be impossible for humans, but it would require immense physical stats. Even using magic to levitate it would consume a staggering amount of mana. I see—that’s why we need the manpower.
“Actually, doesn’t this require a high level of skill?”
Moving such heavy objects to a designated spot is no simple task.
“Exactly. That’s why we need to provide instructions on how to use the tools that assist with that. That kind of training is why building a single warship takes so much time. However, this time...”
Comet picked up where she left off.
“We’ll be helping with all our might. Of course, we’ll have the members scheduled to build the warships help out as well so they can confirm the procedures. Otherwise, the speed won’t increase.”
“I see.”
This is an emergency, a first-time prototype, and essentially the first operation of the shipyard, so the top brass are getting their hands dirty. Usually, leaders just give orders and wait, but in this case, we are the leaders, and Comet and the others on the front lines are capable of taking command and building it themselves if it comes down to it.
“With our mana and our control, the weight isn’t much of a problem. Well, we can’t lift an entire land battleship or warship at once, but we can work within the limits of what we can levitate with magic, which makes the work much faster.”
“Lifting objects with magic is something you can practice, and you gradually get better at it. It will allow us to build warships more efficiently.”
Narjia added to Comet’s explanation. I see—magic for lifting objects is usually considered the height of inefficiency, so people avoid using it. But if there is a specific purpose like lifting heavy materials, people will train for it, and that training will result in them being able to carry even heavier things. That, in turn, leads to an increase in the shipyard’s operational capacity.
“Eventually, I intend to make the ability to lift heavy objects with magic a formal skill, complete with a certification system. That way, it can be used safely in other construction projects as well.”
Indeed. If it’s clearly defined how much a person can move, it will give peace of mind to those who employ them. It will become an indispensable asset not just for the shipyard, but for the development of Weed itself.