5

Three months since I took up my post in the guard.

The season had passed autumn and was stepping into winter’s door.

The air outside’s turning sharp, they say there’s already first snow in the high peaks. Soon now, the α block’ll be fitting Armunale with gear for fighting in the snow.

But the view of the town from the castle still held traces of autumn.

In the corner by the roadside, leaves had piled up, and in the middle of the square, people were roasting sweet potatoes over a leaf fire.

I managed to sneak away for a bit—turned out to be quite the interesting plan.

We gather fallen leaves and sweet potatoes ourselves, roast them right there, and eat them on the spot. The kids stuff their cheeks full, saying “hot, hot,” while the ladies strike up a chat by the well.

The kind of scene that made you smile without even trying—like the whole town was whispering peace.

Well then, about time, I suppose.

glancing at the clock mounted on the wall, I mutter that.

It’s three o’clock. That’s when he’s supposed to race down the hall.

I rise from my desk, heading for the door.

Just then, a crisp, rhythmic tapping—tottottot—comes from the other side.

I smile wryly at the perfect timing, throw open the door, and leap out in front of the approaching figure, blocking her path.

“Princess Ines, where might you be off to?”

“To the privy. Move aside, please.”

“The privy? That’s the wrong way. And honestly, it’s right next to the study—why would you lie about something so obvious? Back to your books, now.”

“You’re telling me to hold it in, are you!? I’ll admit, my… *performance* might be worth a look—once. But really, here? Surely not!”

“Nobody’s gonna care about your… *performance*!”

Princess Ines deliberately flushed her cheeks, shifting her feet together and fidgeting like she was holding it in. She looked exactly like someone trying to keep from going to the loo—but I’m not fooled. Not anymore, anyway.

“Seriously, how many times are you gonna try the same trick? Try something different for once!”

“No one can interrupt a princess’s trip to the privy! This is the most efficient way to sneak out!”

“Admitting you’re escaping? You’re not even hiding it! Now come on, get back to your room!”

I quickly grab her, sling her over my shoulder. Carrying a princess like this? A waste of a good princess carry.

“Ah, so this is how princesses escape the cage—by being dragged into empty rooms.”

“Don’t worry, there’s a proper teacher watching.”

“Multiple people? Oh, that’s cruel! Really cruel!”

Where the hell do you even pick up this kind of info, huh...

Letting out a long sigh at the Second Princess—so proper for a noble, yet somehow packed with such filthy jokes. Can’t imagine the King handing out something like that. One of her brothers, maybe?

But the First Prince’s already well past twenty—hardly the type to pull something like this. The youngest’s dead serious, more likely to burn any such book on sight. So it’s gotta be the Second Prince? But he’s got Jann tightly watching over him. That man’s less a guard and more like a butler… what’s the point of a guard, anyway…?

The Princess squirms, her shoulder slipping off my arm—I give her a light nudge to reset the position.

She lets out a weird grunt, but I ignore it. Probably just hit her ribs.

“Can I transfer out of this mess?”

I wonder if job-hunting sites even exist in this world when you’re stuck with a lousy boss? Something like that crossed my mind as I shoved the princess into the study room where her tutor was waiting.

Finished with another half-hearted chore, I returned to the room—only to find a knight already there.

“Captain, I’ve been waiting.”

“Pamela? What’s up?”

The one waiting was one of the new women assigned to my unit—Pamela, the mechanic.

Tiny frame, soft-eyed like a small animal. Honestly, I worry she’ll crumple in a fight. But then again, it’s a fantasy world. Magic spells for strength, and she’s got no trouble at all. They say her delicate arms are actually better than Orell’s or Ritz’s at reaching into tight spots no one else can touch.

“Got a message from Old Man—he wants you to come to the hangar.”

“The hangar?”

“The parts the captain asked the craftsmen for have arrived. You’ll need to power up the mech if you’re installing them, right?”

“Ah, the new gear. Got it. I’m heading over now—go on ahead.”

“Understood!”

Pamila snapped a crisp salute, then tappity-tapped out of the room. Right after, another knight stepped in.

“Ah, Captain. Just the person.”

“Katreya? What is it?”

She was Katreya. Another scout knight newly assigned to our squad. Her name’s proper, her gender’s clear—she’s a woman, plain and simple. But with a frame forged by knightly training, and a height that makes her look like she belongs on a battlefield, not a court. The trouble? People keep mistaking her for a man. She says it’s her curse.

These two are the new knights assigned to our unit. And why both are women? Simple—our charge is the Second Princess.

Even if she is the kind of girl who’s always cracking dirty jokes and acts like a total airhead, she’s still royalty—so of course we need female knights guarding places no man’s allowed to enter. That’s why Captain Dennis apparently made special arrangements.

“Captain Dennis, a letter has arrived from Deputy Director Arnold in Jakarta, saying the parts you requested have been completed.”

“Oh! Already finished? That’s faster than I expected!”

I raised my voice with excitement as I heard Karthea’s reply, taking the letter from her and immediately checking its contents.

It was a note reporting that my custom weapon—something I’d asked for when I became the royal guard—was finally done. I’d specifically asked Deputy Director Arnold, the inventor behind the Harmonica Pistole, to make it. Honestly, getting an order like that approved? Pure magic.

The thing I’d asked for was finished, but since it’s… well, *that* kind of thing, it’s risky to move it out casually. They wanted me to come pick it up in Jakarta.

True enough—what I’d requested was a real masterpiece, packed with tech. Taking it out from Jakarta, right near the front lines? No telling who might see it. Best to go myself, equip it on the spot.

That means I’ll have to take my own frame with me—but then I can’t stay on duty as the Second Princess’s guard.

Guess I’ll talk it over with Captain Denis.

“Shall I reply?”

“Can’t get back to them right away. You’re free to return to Caetra. I’ve got to head to the hangar after this.”

“Understood. Oh—Ange asked me earlier if you’d be eating dinner tonight. She wanted to know where.”

If the new gear’s already arrived, adjusting it’ll probably take ages—might not even make it back tonight.

“Then tell Ange to have the maintenance crew bring my stuff and theirs to the storage shed. Oh—something handheld, like a sandwich, if you can manage.”

“Understood. I’ll pass it along.”

Cathrea saluted and left the room.

I quickly tidied the papers scattered across the desk and headed straight for the storage shed.

The guard’s storage is inside the city wall—part of the palace garden, really. Not that “part of” means it’s shoddy. Solid construction, and the outside’s been polished up nice and clean so the royal eyes won’t frown. From the outside, you’d think it was a guest pavilion, not a storage shed at all.

But step inside, and it’s just like any other storage shed—no different at all. Reinforced steel walls, a catwalk running along the ceiling. In the corner, piles of parts stacked high, and a crane groaning as it lifts a piece into place.

I felt, for some reason, oddly reassured by that noise, and made my way down to where Orell was working.

“Orell.”

“Eld Captain, you’re finally here.”

“Heard the parts arrived.”

“Just came in this morning. As ordered, I’ve started assembling them. But really—do you plan to put something like this on the thing?”

Orell frowned, eyeing the bulky piece sitting heavily beside the frame.

I nodded, satisfied, as I looked at the part.

“Yeah. Looks good, don’t you think?”

“Can’t say I see it.”

Guess my sense of style’s not sharing the same page with Orell’s.

"Yeah, that’s a shame. But the parts are all put together, right?"

"Right. Though we haven’t run the startup test yet. Mechanically, it won’t move unless it’s properly attached."

"Yeah, we’ll just reuse the body’s concentrated mana fluid—Hyimagia Liquid. For now, please get it ready for installation. Where’s Caline?"

"She’s already deep into rewriting the physical simulator—senseboard, I mean. Seems to be struggling a bit."

"Ah, well. You can’t expect miracles from something like that."

Installing new parts meant the senseboard had to be redrawn for calibration. And this time, since the unit would be directly linked to the body, we’d need to program it too. All in all, it was no small task.

I’d said before that we’d be using this kind of drive, so the basic design was already sketched out, but you never know what bugs’ll pop up until you actually hook it up and try it.

“Alright, let’s get started then. Oh— I told Ange to bring dinner over here, figured it’d take a while.”

“Ah, that’s a relief. Her cooking’s always good.”

“Ange’s making it today? Then I’m pushing myself hard!”

“I’ll help too!”

Hearing Ange’s name, Ritz and Pamela suddenly lit up with energy. Well, Ange’s food really is good. I’m a little smug being able to eat it every day, and I move over to the pilot’s seat.

“Good work, Kaline.”

“Captain, this is way too tough. The physical simulator—senseboard—just doesn’t have enough space to map everything.”

“Ah, figured as much.”

Complaints from Captain Kaline. Well, I’d kind of expected that, to be honest.

Right now, the physical simulator—the senseboard—is crammed into the shelf behind the pilot’s seat. It’s barely the size of half a tatami mat.

And already, it’s packed tight with programs, drawn in every inch. If you want to add another drive system, you’ve got to either erase something, merge it in, or squeeze it in like a thief in the night. Either way, the difficulty spikes naturally. Errors, crashes—those start multiplying like rabbits. Even a veteran like her can’t push past that.

“Figured it out, huh… then why’d you ask for something impossible in the first place?”

I grin at Kaline, who’s giving me that sharp, side-eye look.

"That’s the thing, you know. With your skill, there’s a chance you might pull off something beyond my wildest dreams. Can’t hurt if it happens, right?"

"Can’t hurt, sure—but my fatigue’s piling up, no denying that. Sigh. Well, if you already knew that, you’ve probably got a plan, huh?"

"Of course. I asked the Grand Commander for another brand-new physical processor—sensboard, you know."

That’s my fix. If there’s no more room to draw, just grab a fresh sheet, right?

"Another one!? Where in the world are you gonna cram it in!?"

"Clearly, in the new part. Lucky for us, there’s plenty of space there. Besides, the new section we’ll be drawing on is mostly about the part itself. Even if we purge it, no real harm done."

"That’s true… but…"

There’s been precedent, you know—stuff like cramming a physics engine (senseboard) into a harmonica pistol before. Not exactly unheard of.

Still, this time we’re talking about packing in way more data than ever before, and syncing it up with the Armunale’s own physics engine (senseboard). So while it’s technically the same kind of thing, it’s a whole different beast.

Honestly, it’s like gluing another brain onto your skull. I get it’s hard to grasp, but if that’s what it takes, why not? It’s easier than trying to force it all into one.

“Just need to pay attention to syncing the physics engines (senseboards), that’s all. Way simpler than trying to merge them into one, really.”

“Got it.”

“We’ll handle the part connections now, so take your time.”

“Just tweak the original design a little if you’re writing to a new one—should be done in thirty minutes, max.”

"Amazing. It'll probably take an hour just to strap this thing on, so could you handle the adjustments too?"

"Sure thing. Leave it to me, Captain."

"I'll be handing out bonuses this time."

"I'm counting on it, Captain!"

Yeah, real cash-and-carry kind of guy. That bonus'll probably vanish into some host's pocket, no doubt.

"Alright then, let's get started over here."

I climb into the frame and power it up.

Looking at the parts displayed on the monitor, I can't help but smile.

It's a steel column as thick as Armunale's torso. Right now it's lying flat on the ground, but if stood upright, it'd reach up to the machine's chest.

It's slowly being lifted by Orell's crane.

"Eld Captain, could you handle the positioning over there?"

"Got it. Just keep it steady."

The steel column, held horizontally, stops right in front of the machine.

I reach out with the machine’s arm toward the steel column and lift the top cover open.

“Putting it in now.”

“Yeah.”

Then I slowly slide the machine’s left arm into the open mouth.

From wrist to elbow, up the forearm—gone into the column—until even the shoulder disappears completely.

A crew member checks it and closes the cover with the control arm.

With a clank, the connection clicks shut. The machine’s left arm is now the steel column. This is the new part I asked for. Custom gear, made just for my machine.

“Cutting the crane loose. Watch the center of gravity.”

“Got it. Go ahead.”

The click of the lock releasing—then a sudden, crushing weight on the left hand’s lever. I brace hard, holding it down, while the machine’s own weight threatens to tip it forward. I kick out with my foot to stop it from falling.

I lowered my arm slowly, and the base of the iron pillar came to just about calf height. Exactly as planned.

Then I raised and lowered my arm a few times, checking for any irregularities in the connection.

"Looks fine, I think."

"Good. Then next. In this position, the hatch should be operable by hand—open and close, rotate. Give it a test, see if anything feels off."

"Yes."

I gripped the handle attached to the pillar with my right hand and turned it. After about thirty degrees, there was a sharp *clack*.

I kept turning. Every thirty degrees, another *clack*—a solid lock engaging.

Next, I tested opening and closing the hatch section.

Normally, the senseboard’s physics engine would sync up, and one button in the cockpit would open it. But right now, I’m having Carine draw the senseboard, so I’m doing it by hand. No snags, no fuss—just smooth as butter.

“Looks like it’s working fine. Let’s see if the armaments engage.”

“Yeah.”

That left arm? Originally meant to be a weapons cache.

I only fight with my right hand, so I’m always ditching weapons. Which means I’d run out real quick if I stuck to the old setup.

So I came up with this—left arm, full-on weapon vault.

Thirty degrees apart, each hatch holds a sword or a gun. No more running out of gear. Pure, simple, brain-on-a-stick kind of solution.

But you can also add a physical processor—sense board—to the hollow part, and if you fit a tank in the center, you can store concentrated magical fluid—Hyimagia Liquid—right there. So it’s actually a pretty solid piece of gear, capable of running solo for long stretches.

The downsides? You lose use of your left arm, and you can’t do nimble moves like backflips. But I never used that arm anyway, and the whole point of this thing is to just charge in with brute force. Purge it if you have to.

At first, I considered mounting it on the back, like usual robot stuff. But the back’s already taken—controls, cockpit access, generator ports. So this is how it ended up.

I slide the sword I just pulled from my waist into the hatch.

The sword slid smoothly into the iron column, leaving only the hilt protruding. Then, when I closed the hatch, even the hilt vanished completely into the column.

I double-checked that every storage compartment was functioning normally, then shut down the unit for now.

Just a quick test—make sure nothing’s wrong after activation.

If all’s well, I’ll plug in the newly finished physics processor—the sense board—and try running it for real.

“Hey everyone! I brought lunch!”

Just as the maintenance crew was about to start inspecting the machine, Ange arrived with a few maids, carrying a tray stacked with sandwiches.

“Oh, perfect timing.”

Just finished a section. Might as well take a break. We’re probably going to be up all night anyway.

“Everyone take a breather. It’s gonna be a long night—eat up while you can.”

‘Yes.’

I gave the mechanics their orders, then climbed down from the machine and headed over to Ange.

“Eld, you’ve been working hard.”

“You too, Ange. Thanks for bringing this.”

“It’s fine. Still, look at this thing. Pretty wild, huh?”

“I made it my own, literally. No one else’ll be able to run it right.”

That heavy iron pillar mounted on it. Without manual controls, it’d run out of fuel in no time—wouldn’t even walk straight. Batis or Leon might manage it, barely, but try to fight with it? Impossible.

Still, no doubt about it—it’s mine.

“Gotta test it all out tonight. We’re staying up all night. You go home, Ange.”

“No, then I’ll make you a late-night snack too—something spicy to perk you up.”

“Appreciate it, but don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’ve been trailing after the princess all day, haven’t you?”

The royal guard’s support maids also double as personal attendants to their assigned guards. Having to stick by that princess all day? Must’ve worn her thin.

“I’m fine. Besides, it’d be lonely at home without Eld-kun around.”

Ange said that, cheeks flushing, eyes darting away.

Hmph. This flutter in my chest? Nothing a certain idiot princess’s dirty jokes could ever buy. In fact, it’s her fault—Ange’s little gestures seem ten times cuter now.

I held back the urge to pull her into my arms right there and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Then I’ll take you up on that snack.”

“Leave it to me! I’ll make something absolutely delicious!”

“Yeah, I’m counting on it.”

I thought I heard a muttered sigh from the mechanics munching on the sandwiches handed by the maids, but I decided to pretend I didn’t hear it.