In the yard of the estate that House Cerclie owned in Aramsass, there was a warehouse.
The place, used for storing tools and other items employed at the estate, had relatively few things in it, since it was only meant to be used while Miranda was away at the academy.
In that place, I was creating a golem together with Poyopoyo.
The golem magic that Damian had taught me was, fundamentally, a spell for manipulating a doll created through magic.
However, by using metal infused with my own mana or specially processed metal, there was no need to create one from scratch every time.
A golem made of earth wasn't bad, depending on the situation.
But creating one each time consumed a great deal of mana.
To reduce consumption, Damian pre-created a doll and then controlled it.
I had considered making a doll using that same method, but—
"Human-shaped dolls are hard to control, you know. Well, non-human shapes have their quirks too."
The doll I was building alongside Poyopoyo used armor that had belonged to the boss of the fortieth floor underground.
I had also purchased armor from a boss that had apparently been defeated a few years ago and had been sitting in the academy, using it to create a doll that was decidedly not humanoid.
"I don't understand this at all. When you asked me to help build a doll together, I thought it was some kind of new-age confession... and here we are, actually building a doll."
They called it a doll, but since it wasn't shaped like a person, it was really something else entirely.
When Poyopoyo finished shaping the armor with a tool pulled from inside her skirt, the wheels were attached.
Six small wheels.
And four legs.
To test the folding legs, I moved the golem in front of me.
The golem, which looked like a small cargo cart with legs attached, was sturdier than I'd expected.
"Oh, it's surprisingly solid."
The sensation from operating it was still clumsy due to lack of practice, and the legs moved awkwardly.
Folding the legs up and rolling forward and back on the wheels, I turned the front wheels to make it curve around a corner.
I had asked Poyopoyo if she could handle this, but since she herself said things like "Don't underestimate me, you Chicken," I had her design it.
"Of course it is. After all, this is a machine designed and built entirely by yours truly, Poyopoyo. Shall we name it 'Cargo-Carrier Number One'?"
The incomplete golem only had its basic parts built and functional for now.
How much cargo it could carry, whether it would work properly in the dungeon... And I looked at the two large shields leaning against the wall.
They were too large for a person to carry and poorly designed for transport.
But that was fine.
We wouldn't be the ones carrying them.
"As soon as we can deploy the shields, it'll be finished. But before that, we need to do a test run in the dungeon."
How much mana would it consume?
I had also attached legs so it could turn corners and go up and down stairs.
Poyopoyo spoke up.
"I'd like to attach more springs for better stability. Also, there's nothing resembling a head, so I have no emotional attachment to it. Would you like me to draw a face on the front?"
"Is that necessary? But this thing... Porter could use a little something to grow on you too."
When I called it by the name I'd come up with in advance, Poyopoyo trembled and looked back and forth between me and Porter.
"What's wrong?"
"...What's with that name? And the fact that you put actual thought into it makes me even angrier! I'm the masterpiece of special-order creations, you know! The name I spent days perfecting gets beaten by the thing I finished in days... This is infuriating! I lost to Porter!"
I then picked up a book that had been nearby.
It was a copy that I'd had Clara prepare for me.
A book about names.
"Actually, I got the idea from reading this book."
When I showed it to Poyopoyo, she looked frustrated.
"I thought you were racking your brains coming up with my name!"
I smiled at the frustrated Poyopoyo.
"Poyopoyo is already established, so it's fine. It's cute, Poyopoyo."
At that, Poyopoyo writhed in agony, flailing her twin tails.
Was she happy? Sad? It was complicated, as expected.
"I hate that part of me that felt a tiny bit happy! But I object! Poyopoyo is just a temporary name! I have a true name! ...Wait! This dialogue—isn't this one of those things that's typical of puberty... Nooooo!!"
Watching Poyopoyo, I thought to myself.
(Ancient people definitely aimed their efforts in the wrong direction. What were they trying to accomplish by making automata like this?)
The one who pulled something out of the Jewel, amused by it all, was the Sixth Generation.
"You two seem to get along well."
We must have looked friendly to Poyopoyo.
Sure, her mouth was foul, but she worked hard when it came to me.
Sometimes it really felt like talking to an actual person, but the being before me was an automaton.
I looked at Porter.
(Poyopoyo and Porter, when you get down to it, are the same kind of thing.)
Poyopoyo, flailing her twin tails, blushing, hiding her face with both hands.
Porter, folding its four legs and sitting there silently.
(They really aren't the same, though. Poyopoyo is Poyopoyo.)
I pondered when to conduct Porter's test run.
Outside of Aramsass, Lyle and Aria were moving together.
Though Aria was lightly armed, she wore metal armor on her left arm.
In her right hand, she carried a short spear, leading ahead of Lyle toward their destination.
On her belt hung several types of knives and a pouch for tools.
Lyle, watching Aria's movements from behind, had a prosthetic arm on her left side.
As she observed Aria's movements, she offered corrections.
"Hey, don't just focus on what's ahead. Check your distance from your companions too."
Aria flinched, then turned to Lyle with a wry smile.
"S-sorry."
"Don't apologize during an operation. Reflect after it's over. Are you going to hold up the rest of the team just for yourself?"
Aria hastily checked her surroundings and resumed walking ahead.
Lyle's style was that of a vanguard—walking at the front and engaging in combat when necessary.
"Always think for yourself. What's the party's next move? What's needed? If you can't act without being told everything, then no matter how strong you are, you're second-rate at best."
When they reached their intended destination, Aria, exhausted from the unfamiliar movement, collapsed into a seat.
Seeing this, Lyle spoke.
"You said your leader didn't acknowledge you, didn't you?"
Aria, sitting on the ground, looked up at Lyle.
"Yes. Well... I was given orders and followed them exactly. But I know I can do more!"
To that, Lyle replied without hesitation.
"You can do a certain amount because you have talent. But if I were the leader, I'd do the same thing."
At that, Aria hung her head.
She had learned the basics of being an adventurer at Darion too, but she'd let them slip.
It was proof that she had been relying entirely on Lyle's Skills.
"From where I stand, that guy is capable. He wants to restrict his Skill usage to raise the party's base level. Didn't you notice? 'This isn't going to end well'—that's what he was saying."
Aria had been too preoccupied with herself to realize it, but when Lyle put it that way, she had to agree.
(I was the one relying on Lyle's excellence.)
Lyle pointed out several things she needed to reflect on.
She had been acting as if she'd completely forgotten everything she'd learned at Darion.
"For starters, just because a corridor is somewhat wide doesn't mean someone should use the same spear over and over. If you'd just thought about carrying something adjustable in length or a shorter weapon, you'd have realized that."
Aria received another lecture.
The short spear—shorter than Aria's own height—had a shorter reach, but it seemed useful in the dungeon.
But the first thing she'd been told was—
—Worse quality than an amateur's.
That was the assessment.
She had a certain level of strength but was coasting, abandoning her own responsibilities.
The things Lyle scolded her about were similar to what Zelphy used to teach her back at Darion.
The absolute basics had been neglected, to the point where communication itself had broken down.
"So, how does the shield feel?"
Aria's small shield on her left arm—a buckler.
It had been made small so she could use her spear, but it was useful for deflecting monster attacks.
"It's good. Works well."
At that, Lyle looked a little pleased.
"That's good. Take care of your equipment too. It protects your life and your body. Don't be stingy about it."
Lyle's words carried weight, given that she had lost her left arm and suffered burns.
"All right, break time's over. This time I'll go up front and show you an example. Pay close attention to the points I just covered."
"Understood!"
Lyle set off, with Aria following behind her—
At a private academy in Aramsass.
The subject being taught there was trap-related techniques.
The characteristics of the Aramsass dungeon, the types of traps set within it, and how to open treasure chests—all manner of things were covered.
The instruction was limited to techniques specific to Aramsass, and after the basics, the focus was on skills that would be useful there.
In that classroom, Miranda picked up a key from the table. She deftly used tools to open it.
The private academy instructor watching her clapped his hands.
"That's impressive. Is this really your first time? You haven't been up to some mischief somewhere, have you?"
Her technique was so polished it was almost suspicious.
Miranda answered with a smile.
"I haven't! That's terrible, Professor."
The instructor apologized.
Looking at Miranda's radiant smile, the instructor—
"Well... if that's the case, then fine. Next time, we'll cover trap disarming. The Aramsass dungeon has few trap types, so there isn't much to teach."
Basically, down to the lowest level—the fiftieth floor underground—the types of traps were limited.
In that sense, the Aramsass dungeon was a good place for young adventurers to build their skills.
"Starting now?"
"Preparation is needed, so we'll do it next time. That's all for today."
With that, Miranda stood from her chair, gathered her belongings, and left the classroom.
The young adventurers who had been learning lock-picking alongside her watched her leave.
Their eyes lingered.
"Lucky guy, huh? Miranda-san."
"She graduated from the academy and became an adventurer, right? Should we try asking her out?"
"But isn't she with... that 'Lyle the Packmule' group?"
As the students clamored to call out to Miranda, the instructor cleared his throat.
The classroom fell silent.
Then the instructor said, "Don't bother."
He wasn't joking. He was giving the students a serious warning.
"With that type of person... especially a female adventurer with talent in traps, you'd better stay away. If she's a companion, never, ever try to start a romantic relationship."
One of the students spoke up.
"What's that about, Professor? Did you have a bad experience in the past?"
The instructor answered the joking student with a straight face.
"Once, I was part of a large party. At the time, I was working as a trap specialist. A female adventurer who specialized in traps was brought in as a reserve."
All of the remaining students were male, and they showed interest, listening quietly.
They seemed to be expecting a salacious story.
Young male adventurers were prone to such fantasies.
"She toyed with several adventurers, then squeezed them dry and discarded them. She'd worked with multiple parties, and I know colleagues who share the same specialty... But with that type of person, you're in for nothing good."
The instructor's voice, heavy with genuine experience, cooled the mood in the room.
They couldn't relate personally, but he didn't seem to be lying.
Everything was at one's own risk.
The instructor could only offer a warning.
"How many fools do you think emptied their gold and equipment into that female adventurer, thinking they were winning her favor? She was just exploiting their intentions. And that type of person... will stop at nothing to claim her target."
In this case, "target" meant the opposite sex—the man she had in mind. Hearing this, some of the students began to stir.
"If Miranda-san targeted me, I'd... marry her in a heartbeat."
"Idiot, at least look in the mirror before saying that."
"I wouldn't mind being targeted, even once..."
The instructor watched the young adventurers with a chuckle.
(They get squeezed tighter and tighter without even realizing it... unable to move by the time they notice... I've seen plenty of men like that.)
Thinking that youth was a wonderful thing, the instructor resumed the lesson—
Taking Porter and Poyopoyo into the dungeon, I tested the golem's operation.
I went up and down stairs repeatedly and had Poyopoyo wield a mace in combat.
Goblins went flying.
Goblins splattered red flowers against the walls.
Goblins turned the floor red.
—This one hadn't given a single thought to harvesting materials.
She smashed them so thoroughly that the materials left were in terrible condition.
"I never thought fighting kitchen's black demon would come in handy..."
Poyopoyo struck a pose, flipping her twin tails with one hand. I spoke to her.
"What? Is that what you think of goblins? And you're smashing them too much. The buyback price is going to drop, you know."
The metal bars and the pots the goblins wore as armor had a certain demand as raw materials.
Since they were melted down and processed, the buyback price didn't fluctuate much—but the condition of the materials harvested from these goblins was the worst.
I put on gloves and took the Magic Stones, then loaded the metal onto Porter. Using the wheels didn't make much difference in mana consumption.
Going up and down stairs also presented no particular problems.
Since we couldn't go too deep, I tested it on the first and second underground floors.
The Third Generation watched and commented.
"So this is the answer Lyle arrived at."
The Seventh Generation agreed.
"Quite similar to what the Fifth Generation and I would have suggested."
I was curious about that, but I drew my Saber as nearby adventurers approached.
Poyopoyo raised the mace she held in both hands.
"W-wait!"
"Sorry, but could you lend us a hand?"
The ragged adventurers limped toward us, asking for help.
Six in total. Some were supporting each other, but some could barely walk. One was unconscious.
Seeing their condition, I approached cautiously while remaining on guard.
It didn't look like an act.
Poyopoyo spoke.
"They have broken bones. There's also internal organ damage. Serious injuries, but... medicine or magic can heal them, right? Something's off."
What was off about that?
But now was not the time to dwell on it.
I pulled medicine from the bag on Porter and used it on the injured. The wounds closed and their condition improved noticeably.
But the adventurers who had carried them were also in rough shape.
"I'm sorry. We were ambushed and fought back, but..."
They had been attacked not by monsters, but by other adventurers.
"Thanks for the medicine. But still... why a cart? And a maid?"
One of the pallid adventurers looked at Porter and Poyopoyo in bewilderment.
"Well, it's a long story."
Then one of them began to groan in pain.
Poyopoyo spoke.
"This is bad. The injuries aren't fully healed. They should see a specialist."
I looked at Porter.
It was cramped, but six people could fit on it.
"The ride might be bumpy, but please, climb on."
The rescued adventurers—
"R-ride on it? But who's going to pull it? One person would never manage... there are stairs..."
I felt there was no time to explain.
"Just get on!"
With that, I loaded all six on and stepped onto one of the side protrusions to climb aboard.
Poyopoyo did the same on the other side. And then—
"Here we go."
The wheels turned, and Porter began moving with all eight of us aboard. I had memorized the route on the way in, so I navigated the dungeon without hesitation.
The floor was haphazardly covered in metal plates, and while there was some bumping, it was well within acceptable limits.
(Huh, this can actually carry a surprising amount.)
I thought that as I operated Porter.
The adventurers who had boarded sat in stunned silence, watching the scene unfold.
After exiting the dungeon, I took them to a nearby hospital and waited outside.
Before long, the rescued adventurers emerged—still pale, but bandaged.
They smiled at me.
"You saved us. All of my companions are safe too."
Hearing that, I felt relieved that the rescue had been worthwhile.
"I'm glad."
Adventurers helping each other was necessary.
While there were those who casually committed terrible acts, most of the time, a miserable end awaited them.
Besides, if I could help, maybe my reputation would recover a little.
"So, um... thank you!"
The adventurer bowed deeply, surprising me.
He explained the situation.
"I'd pay you in gold coins if I could. But my companions are still hospitalized... When we were attacked, I grabbed the Magic Stones, but we left the other materials behind. This is all I have now, but once we're discharged, I promise I'll repay you properly."
With that, the adventurer pulled every silver coin from his leather pouch and handed them over.
Poyopoyo saw this and said,
"That's quite a sum for two people's earnings."
I accepted the money.
"I'll gladly accept your thanks. And please, don't push yourself after you're discharged. I'm satisfied with this."
"I'm... I'm saved. Really, thank you!"
The other party might have been putting on a show of it being all they could afford. In reality, they might have been able to pay more.
But if I cheaped out on a thank-you in a situation like this, word would spread and I'd lose trust. Saving someone's life and receiving no reward... if that got around, it would hinder my future activities in Aramsass.
I told the adventurer I was satisfied with the thanks and that I wouldn't accept anything further.
After the adventurer returned to his companions, I looked at the silver coins in my hand.
"...Oh, wait. Could this be..."
I realized something. At the same time, I heard the Fourth Generation's voice.
"Smells like money..."
I turned to look at Porter. It seemed, somehow, more dependable than before.
From the Jewel, a voice of elation rang out.
"Lyle! Well done! This is profitable! See, encouraging original thinking really does matter!"
The money-loving Fourth Generation had recognized the value of my Porter.
Once he realized it could generate income, he was overjoyed.
Poyopoyo spoke too.
"Chicken... with this, we can eat just fine."
I agreed.
"I think so too."