The streets of Lontart were packed with people, buzzing with excitement.
"Look—what is that?" Suddenly, an exclamation erupted from the crowd, drawing the attention of the citizens all around.
"What is it?"
"An alchemical car can fly?"
They blurted out in equal astonishment. Hovering at roughly three stories above the ground was an object sheathed entirely in silvery grey, bearing a seventy or eighty percent resemblance to the alchemical cars driving on the roads below. It had a front, a cabin, doors—just like a car. It had wheels, headlights—just like a car. The only difference was that it looked far thinner and lighter, making people wonder whether it was even made of normal metal. Of course, the biggest difference of all was that this bizarre "alchemical car" could actually fly! Wasn't that an ability reserved only for Magi of the Third Ring and above and the Honorable Heavenly Knights?
With cry after cry of shock, more and more citizens turned their gaze skyward. In an instant, Lontart gained a thousand upward-staring "statues."
This sort of reaction was unique to Lontart. Anywhere else, ordinary folk would have been screaming about monsters and fleeing in panic—and might have caused a stampede to boot.
Inside the "flying car," Viscount Ribero chomped on his cigar, gazing with satisfaction at the scene below. Every gasp of astonishment was, to his ears, the finest compliment.
"What's so surprising about that? A bunch of country bumpkins." Ribero sneered. "It's nothing more than a Levitation Spell fused with an alchemical car's propulsion engine."
He was the son of a certain count. A potion had awakened his bloodline, though he had no hope of flying on his own. Moreover, he felt that relying on an ordinary alchemical artifact for flight was dreadfully inelegant—as if one were parading around naked for all to see. A noble should observe the proper "etiquette" of flight: composed, unhurried, elegant, and dignified.
This notion had long been buried in his heart, but he had never found a way to realize it—until the invention of the alchemical car. Only then did he understand what he truly wanted. A true noble ought to pilot a "car" of this sort through the skies, letting the lowly citizens below gaze up at him without ever making out the face inside. Naturally, had this not been a trial run, he would certainly have had to employ a "chauffeur." A noble drive himself? Absurd!
So he had sought out a handful of Magi who had a keen interest in money and materials. Using the alchemical car as a template, they had selected new metal materials to drastically reduce weight—and, naturally, to drastically reduce crash safety as well. Then, on top of that, they had permanently inscribed a Levitation Spell, allowing the "alchemical car" to float at the operator's command. Permanently inscribing a "Flight Spell" was something only a high-rank mage could accomplish; a mid-rank mage could at best make an alchemical item activate Flight Spell a few times per day, far too limited for Viscount Ribero's needs.
Finally, they had modified the alchemical car's own propulsion engine so that it could expel gas, letting the pilot change direction freely. In this way, without ever using the Flight Spell, they had made the alchemical car "fly"—while it could still drive on the ground just the same.
Of course, this "flying car" had its own shortcomings. First, the Levitation Spell was not a true Flight Spell, so ascent and descent were painfully slow. Second, its energy consumption was staggering—the Levitation Spell might be "permanent," but it still required replenishment from magic stones and similar energy sources, far beyond what an ordinary person could afford.
On this last point, Viscount Ribero was actually quite pleased. It was exactly right that the mud-caked peasants and country bumpkins should be unable to afford a "flying car." That was precisely how noble elegance and dignity were meant to be displayed!
Gazing down at the alchemical cars "driving slowly" below, afraid of collision, and at those faces frozen in astonishment, Viscount Ribero extended his left hand, flicked his cigar ash, and blew out a ring of smoke. With an air of arrogance and deep satisfaction, he declared:
"A bunch of country bumpkins."
Even as he flaunted his "nobility," he excitedly stomped on the "energy pedal," intending to zip through an aerial gap between a few taller buildings and let those bumpkins do nothing but gaze after his and the flying car's dashing silhouette!
No sooner had he passed through the gap than his eyes froze, because heading straight toward him from the opposite direction was another car identical to his "baby." Inside sat a man with an expression of sheer panic, traveling at the same breakneck speed, at the same altitude!
"Damn it—those Magi sold my creation behind my back!"
In that instant, the very first thought that sprang to mind was this. Next, he "instinctively" yanked the control lever upward, trying to climb higher and dodge a potential collision.
But the biggest flaw of the "Levitation Spell" was that climbing and ascending were agonizingly slow. Not being a mage himself, he failed to remember this crucial detail in time.
Two faces—equally stunned, equally terrified—locked eyes. Then the two flying cars smashed into each other head-on.
"...I shouldn't have flown so low just so people could see me..." Viscount Ribero's pupils contracted violently. Not having awakened his bloodline through normal means, he lacked an iron will and could not, in that moment of crisis, recall any trace of his "knightly prowess."
BOOM!
A colossal fireball erupted in midair. Shards of the alchemical cars rained down upon the ground like a hailstorm.
"This...?" Every citizen who had been gazing skyward was now utterly dumbfounded. What on earth had just happened?
A burning mass slammed down in front of Ali, who was clutching a black suitcase, sending him staggering back several steps and nearly trampling the drain grate at the roadside.
"That explosion was terrifying..."
"It almost hit me..."
"Lontart really is a dangerous place..."
Thoughts burst through Ali's mind one after another. Having only just arrived in pursuit of his dream, he now understood Lontart's "dangers" with bone-deep clarity. In that moment, he suddenly realized that if he was ever going to amount to anything, it would not be without setbacks or smooth sailing. If he wasn't careful, some random little accident could cost him his life.