Sweet Reincarnation

"Shall we talk?"

Wangdu Mortairn family apartment. Two adults and one boy were facing each other in an office room in a tiny building as a hero's residence with a baron position and depositing a unit of the Central Army Battalion.

Adults are two of them: Koantro-Droba, the heavy town of the Mortairn family ancient stock, and Baron Casserol-Mil-Morthern, the father of Pais. One of the military nobles who performs his duties as a court nobleman and manages the battalion in a packed manner in the Wang capital.

Needless to say, the Baron himself is also a territorial nobleman who owns the territory of Mortairn, but in order to concentrate on his duties as captain of the great battalion, he had delegated to his son all of his duties of territorial management, that is, as a territorial nobleman.

Today, for the first time in a long time, my son Pastry came to see me. I thought it was something important, so I came directly to report it.

While in Wang Capital, Koantro, who divides up all of the management of the house, was also present, and his earlier remarks where he was ready to listen.

Casserole is prepared to marvel at what his son's report may be.

"I will report directly to you from the conclusion. We have an agreement with the Ratesh family to protect information about magic candy."

Hmm, and Casserole sighed. This was because the content of the report was still more common sense than it was prepared to be.

In the past, as we line up what Pace has done to us, there's a line of things that we don't think are roughly what one person has done to us.

Several times it has also fallen in the midst of hostile aristocracy. It's unusual just to say that this is a convenient one.

All of a sudden, I've put up a math to boost the war, and I've been able to be the "magical transcript of others" that no one's ever heard of, and I've done a great invention that turns the world upside down. You think it's Tehepero? I don't know a few things I preached about weighing myself down.

Compared to the past, where even large adults have brought in major problems with their heads, making agreements with nobles elsewhere is even cute.

Of course, it is also unusual for a child, normally, to compile treaty negotiations with other houses on behalf of one family, but the mortarns already have a paralyzed sensation.

Again, Casserole urged Payce to follow.

"Hmm, tell me more"

"What happens starts when I'm invited to the king's capital."

"That's an example conspiracy."

The Mortairn family is something of a standout. A wizard widely known to the world, whose Lord made him a hero of the King's remembrance and sighting wars. The territory has developed so greatly that it has not allowed the follow-ups of other houses in the last few years that since it was invited as a court nobleman, it has come to assume a wing of State responsibility.

Those who want to pull their legs and those who think they're jealous are rotten, and from those thoughts the demons of the conspiracy were also directed at Pais.

In the aristocratic world since ancient times, conspiracies were commonplace, such as calling territorial aristocracy to the centre, making it do unfamiliar work for good reason, waiting for failure and setting a trap. Failure to work is an act contrary to His Majesty's trust, and so on, or the need to compensate for the loss, or the reputation of falling rather than being as good as you thought, and if you let it fail, the pull of your leg (like) is a variety of things.

Pais was similarly exposed to this plot, and he became the feather of being made to do what seemed obviously unfamiliar work: a boarding officer school instructor. It also seemed meaningful to hang the waiting for suddenly developing territorial management by separating the lord and his son from the territory together.

Of course, you could have said no.

But Pais used this plot the other way around.

"Yes, I was a corner opportunity, so I succeeded in training those who seemed promising, using their achievements, and securing over ten graduates"

"I did good with that one. The people who were trying to pull our legs would have blued their faces too."

When I put my hand to pull my leg, they stepped on me. The people trampled on are not talking about a painful spot. Ten years old. If he had eaten a tail back at a man there, it would have been a laugh of the world. My hand hurts, but I'm badly wounded.

Now it seems that a party of nobles who had led the conspiracy, beginning with Count Cowenbar, has lost influence considerably and has grown dear.

"Thank you. At this time, one of my godchildren, who could not be pulled home, took a job at the Royal Institute."

"Well, you're brilliant."

"Yeah. You've been smart since you were a student. It obviously has the virtues of a procedure that I can just manage to keep up with while I have a late start. He asked me to work with his lab."

"Hmm."

Pais wasn't the only one involved in the conspiracy.

Those who plotted the conspiracy prepared a quarantine destination for Pais, who had been scattered around in boarding cadets' schools. Of course, in euphemistic form, not directly, but if one sees it, it is a funny story. It's like trying to stroke a kitten with the intention of adulterating her, and she bites her hand, and rushes to throw it into a cage. I can't help but be laughed at.

A prepared cage is the General Magic Laboratory of the Royal Havarnex Memorial Laboratory. Digidelio-Mill-Harbonch, one of Pace's godchildren, was employed earlier here. He said he was a competent young man who was top seated when he graduated, but was not good with people because of his tendency to stutter, and chose a research position where he could pull and work.

It was at the beginning that he was danced to rumors in the form of a conspiracy to bring Pace into general purpose research.

"I decided to work with them because they said they would take away the giant candy workmanship, but in the process, I accidentally succeeded in" magic generalization ”"

"... what?

When I felt like I heard something outrageous right now, Casserole overheard it.

"Successful generalization of magic. Through candy craftsmanship, most people will probably be able to use magic."

Magic generalization. That means that anyone can use magic.

Even if amateurs think about it, I can imagine that the impact on society is going to be astronomical. Until now, there has been a proportion of people who can use magic in the tens of thousands, but when it comes to being able to use almost all of them, it simply means that the number of wizards will increase tens of thousands of times.

This world, those with paranormal powers that ignore the physical phenomenon of magic, has occupied an important position without exception. If this were to collapse, the born wizard must react with the momentum to wager life and death.

casserole and if this was about another house, it would have moved in the direction of crushing that house.

"I'm getting a headache. I had received a report, but I thought you were thinking more deeply."

It's inadvertent and it's not the kind of thing that you would make fun of. Father's headaches are only increasing in severity. I carry my head in by accident.

"It's a coincidence, Father. I let Lumi and Marc experiment with the punishment, but those two have succeeded in traveling [instantly] without my help, from King's Capital to Mortern territory."

"The world's about to turn upside down."

The user-friendliness of [instant travel] where casseroles can be used is well known by casseroles like no other. It's a big case that anyone, at least when they grow up, can use it on Lumi and Marc, who were judged not to be wizards.

"Of course, we have taken the finest information protection measures on this matter. I did everything I could... but for some reason, the Ratesh family“ just ”sniffed."

"She's good enough to take an alias with a fox. If it's just good luck, it might be the best in the country."

Thoroughly counteract information leakage, and even though it never seems to have leaked, I've been sniffing around for some reason. No, the fox alias is Dada. Should it be called sense of smell in this case? First of all, it might be better to rename it a dog or a wolf sharply in the sense of smell, or else per pig. The pig's sense of smell is sharper than that of a dog.

I call her a female fox again, a female pig. It would be a misleading nickname in many ways. Casserole shook her head that there was no such thing.

"When you come in directly, you don't threaten to mess around... if you choose the means, you must say something like that."

"I have heard reports from Shiites. I hear you lined up three thousand soldiers to intimidate them. Formal reports had also been raised with the National Army. It was for my own protection. There was a fact check at my place, too."

Though domestically, we have to put troops into the territory of other houses. It would be military action, no matter what anyone sees it, and something they should have been criticized for. However, in a noisy world, it is implicitly acknowledged that women are allowed to serve some strength for escorts.

How far is a proper escort and from where is excessive force? If we argue, it will be a watershed argument, and we will not be able to make decisions. That's why Uncle Ratesh mobilized it to show it in a poking way.

It is a clear threat that we can do as much as this if we have to.

"That's what we said. My husband showed himself to the weak Countess, so he became a little excessive, but only an escort."

"It's a sloppy story. I've been on the battlefield, and I'm not even weaker now."

Uncle Ratesh should also be on the battlefield if he has to be more than a nobleman. This is a tradition, an indiscipline and a code of the Kingdom of God. That is why, when she assumed her presidency, she had also exposed herself to the battlefield in order to discourage dissent.

Weak, that's very hard to call bravery. Otherwise, some of the Ratesh family, known as pirates, could not contain the bloody people.

Right now, my husband, Serjean-Mill-Retesch, is at the head of the military. As the traditional mentality of the southern continent, it is desirable for men to lead the army.

In other words, formally, the difference in the Ratesh family escort is the husband's job. Uncle Ratesh herself doesn't know much about it, and if she says that she has been provided with excessive escorts, she cannot strongly condemn herself. To the extent that I can say I don't like it.

Only the apprehension of my husband, who guides me through myself, and the attitude of reopening with a deep sense of affection. The thickness of the skin on the surface is a good battle with someone somewhere.

"I've gotten to that point, so this one's really neat. Whatever happened, I didn't mean to let you grab my tail... but I came up with some unexpected negotiating material."

"What?"

Pais' strength, cunning, is also well known to his father, Casserole. Enough to keep the territorial operations and enough to intend to cede the housekeeper in the near future. I think I'm smarter than I am.

What is the “unexpected bargaining material” that Pace refers to?

The casserole is nervous too. And Pais has a word.

"It's a cocoa bean"

For a moment, Casserole couldn't understand what Pais was talking about.

But when it comes to beans, does it weigh in on information about critical technologies that rock the nation? The impossible story, I just thought, reminded me of my only and greatest flaw in my own son.

"... ha, okay. That's a treat."

My son is a divinely beloved prodigy, a casserole who does not say, but he has tried many times to correct his son's taste and has given up.

From the poor, who are struggling with modest spending, they seek a luxury item called confectionery, and even more so, they create their own hobbies. Confectionery runaway horse. Sweet Monster. If this time the hobby took precedence over the affairs of the Territory, then it is a matter of passion.

Casserole that makes your face look worse.

"Yes, but it's not just my hobby. Cacao beans are very valuable."

Pais understands his father's concerns, of course. That's why I went to explain it this way.

"Big value?

"Yes, without joking, there is a potential value (potential) that shapes the national economy"

"So much!?

Casserole was stunned by Pais' remarks. As for cocoa beans, it was certainly the name of a bean I had never heard of, maybe it's something unusual. It could be a specialty.

I can still understand when it comes to shaping the economy of my territory, including the future. In fact, it is because there has been a dramatic improvement in agricultural production in the past due to the start of bean farming.

However, the digits are different from those of the national economy even when compared to those of a single territory.

"I am confident that we will be a major industry about cocoa from now on. We decided that if we didn't get this cultivation technology as early as we could, it would be very awkward for the Ratesh family to monopolize the cultivation technology."

I see. So you exchanged information for "magic candy."

"Yeah. It's a barter deal. I think this deal is legitimate… No, I think it's even more positive."

Besides the cocoa beans themselves, what Pace has in his hands in exchange for general purpose magic information, there are also future preferential cocoa bean purchase rights. I told him almost all the other general purpose magic information in exchange for something that could be borne by the Ratesh family. On the condition, of course, that researchers will never be allowed to pull out.

In the future, will the Ratesh family seek to acquire magic technology as generic as the Mortairn family, or will it aim to purchase and monopolize results only? The information was too big for future consideration. Of course, it's a secret agreement. If the Ratesh family genuinely moves to conceal information, it will be difficult, even if royal, to find it.

"I don't know, something like that"

"It's a cocoa bean"

"Oh, I don't know how much that cocoa thing is worth. In my personal opinion, I can't find more value than the great invention that moves the world into a hedgehog bean, but if you're so sure and certain, I'll believe you. I left it to you to do more in the realm than in the past. I decide the house, but you decide the realm."

In the end, as a casserole, it begins with believing in my son's story or not. Is the value that Pace finds in cocoa beans really enough to create enough value to move the nation? Even if it's hard to believe, to be honest, it's a man named Casserole who believes his son's words.

My son assured me. Then the last responsibility is to do whatever you want because you take it, and hang strong words.

"So... actually, there's one thing I'd like to talk to my father about"

But Pace says there's more to it.

After all the big stories that have come out so far, I need to talk to you. Naturally. The body of the casserole tenses strongly.

"What?"

"There's one thing I want to lose. Shiitz told me I should talk to my father in advance because it's a pretty big one."

"Say it."

Shiites says casserole should be consulted. I only have a bad feeling. The intention to let casserole carry the responsibility, no matter what, appears clear. The cold sweat of being pressed into trouble flows down the baron's back.

"... I'm going to erase the mountain. Per mountain range if you can."

After all, it was Pais who uttered an outrageous thing.