Chapter 7: Bathtopia

GOOD OL’ SUPER BATHS. I’M SURE YOU HAD THEM IN your city. Praise thee, O Super Bath! Venerable bathtopia, how wonderful you are!

When I was a child, this was my Super Bath mantra. I owed a lot to those places. In retrospect, it was pretty sick. Who wouldn’t want to visit a Super Bath after hearing that?

In all seriousness, I used Super Baths all the time growing up, so I really wanted to build one myself. First, though, I had to figure out what would be best for the adventurers. The priority had to be creating a place where adventurers could clean themselves off after they returned from a job. I decided to build five corner showers that could each comfortably hold one person, then make the same number of bathtubs. I also needed an open-air bath, a lie-down bath, and a waterfall shower.

With the surrounding area filled out by Kusala’s big hotel and a bunch of other businesses, I’d need to put the open-air bath on the third floor’s rooftop so that nobody would be able to peep. If I separated the men’s and women’s areas into the first and second floors, though, it would be difficult for either group to take advantage of the open-air bath. As such, I decided to turn the first floor into a relaxation space accompanied by a reception area, just like a Super Bath.

Once you passed through the spacious entrance, you would encounter a stall that sold bathing goods and cold drinks. Half of the floor would be a rest zone where you could lie down, though you’d have to take off your shoes to enter the space. The other half of the floor would have sets of tables and a place to store your stuff.

I designed the first floor so that the storage area was visible from the stall and reception area, to minimize the likelihood of people having their stuff stolen.

That said, I still planned to make lockers, too.

To either side of the front reception would be easy-access stairs leading to the men’s and women’s bathing areas. I would cut the second and third floors in half, installing corner showers and tubs on the second floor for both men and women. The third floor would have lie-down baths and waterfall showers, and the open-air bath would be on the rooftop above that.

It would be nice and spacious. Oh, and I’d have hot water flowing at all times. Apparently, that was a privilege only royalty enjoyed in this world, but adventurers kept money pouring into the town and village, so I was happy to splurge on them a bit.

With my plan in mind, I started crafting, using thick wood blocks so that the facilities could withstand the adventurers getting a wee bit rough. Just like I did in Seatoh Village, I’d run this public bath as one of my own personal businesses. I’d hire someone to manage it all and leave staffing the place to them.

I was also weighing the benefits of a shopping district association. The Bell & Rango Company and the other businesses could select representatives and form it. That would certainly make Esparda’s job easier. Considering this, I looked over the main street.

Most of the buildings were finished. All I had left to build were the Bell & Rango Company’s new shops. “All right, let’s do this!” I said to Bell. “Do you have any requests?”

He pulled out a set of blueprints that he’d prepared. “It struck me when I looked at the bathing facility you built that carrying things from the basement to the third floor would be difficult and time-consuming. It would be really useful to have a pulley that could lift goods from the basement to the surface.”

“A pulley? Oh, you mean like an elevator?”

Bell cocked his head. “El-le-vator…?”

I’d have to explain. “You see them used often at water wells and at the castle gates in the capital city, but the type I’m referring to is specifically designed to carry people and things up and down. The more pulleys you have, the lighter the overall load gets. How about we try four to six of them?”

“I see. I was also picturing something along the lines of a system for drawing water from a well. I didn’t know that increasing the number of pulleys could yield such positive results.” Bell sounded surprised.

In fairness, when elevator and crane systems were developed back on Earth, the technology didn’t exactly spread quickly around the world. Maybe this country just hadn’t done much research on the uses of pulleys yet.

Or maybe, just maybe, someone out there was monopolizing that knowledge.

“…Well, whatever.” I had my theories, but there was no point in pursuing that line of thinking. I’d heard that this world had been using cranes to haul stuff and make boats for ages now, so maybe there was a maritime nation out there somewhere with uniquely developed pulleys. One of these days I’d have to ask someone from the Business Guild about it.

Arte poked her head out of the carriage. “Lord Van, what’s this about a pulley that can carry people and objects?”

“It’s kind of like the floor itself is moving and carrying things… Actually, you know what? Would you like to see it in action with me?”

“Oh, are you sure? If that’s possible, I would love to.”

We talked it over briefly and Arte decided to accompany me. I was in the mood to show off to her, but building my very first working elevator was a high hurdle to clear. This might be a problem.

“Okay, let’s start with the building. We can figure out the floorplan later, so for now, could you just decide on a place for the elevator?”

“Ah, understood,” said Bell. “In that case, could you build two entrances, then have the elevator pass through the storage areas on each floor?”

“Gotcha. Exits and entrances for bringing in goods. In that case, let’s put them a little way away from the entrance that the adventurers will use. I’ll put the stairs in the center of the building.”

“That works for me.”

With the layout decided, I built everything in one go. The Bell & Rango Company brought over a veritable mountain of building materials, so I didn’t even have to take breaks. I crafted a single atrium going from the basement to the third floor, but no other partitions. The stairs were wide enough to support four people walking up and down them side by side.

I made my way up to the third floor. Climbing the stairs was a bit of an ordeal, and even though Arte was keeping up, she was clearly exhausted. Till made sure to stay by her side. “Ah, I’m beat!” I said once we’d made it, smiling and looking over the spacious floor. The stairs acted as a pillar, so the whole place was spacious like a reinforced concrete building.

Meanwhile, Arte and Till looked down the hole leading to the basement, their faces pale with fear. “H-how terrifying,” Arte stammered.

“Lady Arte, it’s dangerous to look down there.”

Arte was crouching by the hole and Till was panicking behind her. Khamsin was on his hands and knees, too, peeking down through the building.

“Be careful not to fall in, guys,” I said with a smile before turning to affix the pulley system to the ceiling. I set four large pulleys horizontally at different heights. They’d taught me in school that four was the way to go, so I stuck with that for now.

Next, I made a large hanging box; this would be the actual elevator platform. To ensure it wouldn’t fall, I also built a temporary floor to fix it in place. After that, I had to craft the hanging cord. This thing needed to be strong, so I decided to make it out of metal wiring. I intertwined the thin metal wires, turning it into one super-strong rope. Mithril rope, to be precise.

“Man,” I huffed, “mithril really does sap the magic out of me.”

I sat down on the floor, gripped by exhaustion. Magic consumption by material went, from lowest to highest: wood, dirt, iron, copper, silver, gold, mithril, then orichalcum. I could work with wood all day without getting tired, but when I used mithril and orichalcum, an hour of consistent work bled me dry.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to chill out on the floor. I installed rails on the left and right sides of the box to increase its overall level of safety, then quickly crafted an antidrop railing.

“The wire rope coils around the pulleys alternatively, and I attached that nice and tight to the large box. Honestly, I wanted to automate everything by installing a button that you could press, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that on such short notice.” I smiled bitterly as I removed the wood block that was keeping the box in place. I was holding the tip of the wire rope that the box was hanging from, so it wasn’t going to fall. And since nothing was inside it, it barely weighed anything.

“Is it done?” Till asked, eyes sparkling, while I tugged at the wire to see how it worked.

“Well, let’s see. Here, Dee, you hold this. Nice and tight, please.” Dee seemed a bit confused, but he gripped the end of the wire rope with both hands.

I climbed right into the new elevator.

“Lord Van, wait!” Khamsin shouted.

“Eeeek!” Till shrieked.

They both dashed toward me, panicked. Dee wasn’t faring much better; he lowered his center of gravity, still clutching the wire tightly. Arte, meanwhile, crouched against the railing and reached her hand out to me.

Arte’s approach was fine, but unfortunately Khamsin and Till came at me with such force that we all ended up in the elevator together. “G-guys, we can’t all be in here. Get out.”

“You are the one who shouldn’t be in here, Lord Van!” “Please get out!” I repeated.

Arte and Bell cried out, seeing the three of us arguing inside the elevator. Finally, Arte said, “E-everyone, please get out for now,” and we all did as she said.

Anyway, the elevator seemed to be functioning without issue, so I crafted a box that could hold a counterweight for the pointed end of the rope Dee was holding. Once it was attached to the rope, I adjusted the weight, effectively completing the elevator.

Till was pretty mad at me when all was said and done. I was turbo exhausted from my busy day, so I ended things there with the completion of the Bell & Rango Company’s new building.

By the next day, the main street of the adventurers’ town was complete, at least from the outside. All that remained was to hire employees to handle the new shops. I smiled at my creations. “This is quite a sight. You know, at this rate, it might be kind of cool to redesign all the other Bell & Rango Company establishments to match the aesthetic.”

Bell’s eyes lit up so hard they practically glowed. “In that case, what about the branch and storage facility you first built in town?”

He was all worked up about this idea, but I just chuckled and shook my head. “Non, non, good sir. This is the perfect chance to train some carpenters. Feel free to have them whip up some new buildings for you.”

Bell’s shoulders sagged. I felt bad for him, but we had to improve our residents’ technical skills. Only then would I be free of the burden of every single odd job that came my way.

Leaving Bell behind to mope, I went off to offer consultations to the new shop owners. Little did they know that young Van had patronized all sorts of public businesses in his other life; he would be more than happy to share his knowledge if it meant such services would be available.

Or at least that’s what I intended, right up until a small man with a fuzzy beard shuffled out from behind the store like some kind of tiny gremlin.

“Only ten days left until the deadline. You must complete the forge in eight days, then the wind pump box in one!”

“What?! Am I losing it or is that an even tighter deadline than before?” I replied in shock.

Havel crossed his arms and snorted. “Of course it is! How could I not shorten the deadline after seeing you construct all these massive buildings?” He pointed furiously at the new structures around town. “If you really put your back into it, you could make the forge in three days! Am I wrong?!”

The other dwarves nodded in agreement. “I ain’t never seen a town get made so quickly.”

“This is cheating!”

The dwarves sounded angry, especially about the Bell & Rango Company’s new building. “That elevator thing is no good. Same with being able to just put things on the wall and take ’em off.”

“No good?”

My perplexed expression further infuriated the complaining dwarf. He began stomping on the ground and said, “When we make things, there ain’t no changin’ them when we’re done. Carpentry and blacksmithing are the same in that respect. When you finish a sword, if someone asks you to make it a little longer, there ain’t nothin’ you can do about it. Yet you and your magic make it possible. From our perspective, that’s cheating!” The others nodded.

I see. It is true that being able to modify finished products, wood, and metal is pretty darn useful. I could complain all I wanted about how exhausting it was to use magic, but it was still much easier than doing real carpentry or smithing. It was also faster in every respect.

I crossed my arms. “I get it. In that sense, maybe my magic aptitude was a blessing in disguise.”

Havel and the others nodded and moved toward me.

“Precisely. That’s why you’re gonna put your back into making our forge.”

“Especially since we could only do it the old-fashioned way.”

“Get a move on!”

They dragged me toward Seatoh Village, all of them voicing their unreasonable opinions at once.

“W-wait a second! You guys are being way too pushy!”

My complaints were utterly ignored. Little Van, the supposed lord of the land, was being forced to work overtime by evil dwarves. Talk about a toxic working environment!

While I was otherwise preoccupied, Esparda visited the new shops and did the consulting I’d meant to do. The consequence was that when the businesses opened, they operated at a much higher standard than they probably would have had I been the one to handle things, and the adventurers had only good things to say. Damn it all.

Poor little Van, meanwhile, was forced to work from morning to night for multiple days in a row, all to complete the forge. According to the dwarves, the taller the forge, the more metals that could be made. We really don’t need that much metal, though, I thought, keeping the forge’s height reasonable in the interest of finishing the project sooner. Besides, ore and coal had to be inserted from the top of the forge, so the taller this thing was, the more annoying it would be to work with.

“The more materials we can make, the better!” Havel fumed, backed up by the other dwarves’ heavy nods. I rejected their proposal and went on to explain the plan for Seatoh Village.

“With the number of knights, adventurers, and merchants currently going in and out of the village, I don’t think we need that much metal. A twenty-metertall forge will work just fine,” I said with a tone of finality.

The way the dwarves’ shoulders sagged in response was, honestly, right out of a comedy flick.

Havel went quiet and thought for a moment, then spoke. “Well, I suppose if we need more, we can just have you build it later.” The other dwarves seemed to accept this conclusion.

Considering the temperature and pressure required to melt down orichalcum, twenty meters would get the job done perfectly well. I wouldn’t want to make it any shorter, but the dwarves seemed to expect the forge to be in constant use, like it would be in their homeland. None of our blacksmiths would require that, though. Twenty meters was enough.

With that settled, the dwarves kept quiet, kneading together materials and grinding down monster stones. It seemed like they were trying their best to help me so that we could finish the forge quickly. One of them said to another,

“Apparently monster stones consume the most magical energy.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, let’s grind them down for the lad.”

“Aye!”

The dwarves kept their conversations to a minimum, working mostly in silence. They even forgot to take breaks sometimes. It was cool how stoic they were as artisans, but I needed to make sure I didn’t get caught up in their flow. “I’ve already built five meters! Can’t the rest wait till tomorrow?!”

“Nope. The forge’s center of gravity is too far north. Adjust it, then add another two meters.”

“Oh, come on.” Talk about a slave driver…

In the end, I spent an entire day completing the hearth portion of the forge. Up next would be the upper portion, the hearth wind intake, and the wind pump box. I managed to complete the upper chunk in a day’s time thanks to the powdered monster stones and the adjusted height—although, truth be told, I might’ve been able to complete the damn thing in half a day if not for Havel and his crew forcing me to make minute tweaks all the time.

That being said, their obsession with fine details proved fruitful. The finished forge was a real sight for sore eyes. The structure was perfectly symmetrical, and the smooth curves that ran from the hearth to the upper section were flawless. The cross section inside the furnace was also a perfect circle.

Havel and his men inspected every inch of the forge before finally offering their thoughts. “All right, not bad!”

“Mm, not bad at all!”

They seemed satisfied, at least, but it wasn’t long before they started discussing the wind pump box. “There should be eight wind holes at the bottom, four in the middle, and four at the top. We’ll open and close them depending on the state of the forge.”

“We should keep all of the bottom ones open.”

“There’s a chance that too much wind flow could lower the temperature, but that shouldn’t be a problem for the lower section, considering how hot it’ll get.

Let’s keep the wind flowing so the wind holes never get blocked.”

“How many wind pump boxes should I make?” I asked. “Four?”

“Yeah, that’s right. If you make four of ’em, we can choose when we want to

use two of ’em and when we want all of ’em.”

Initiating combustion in a dwarven forge required manually pumping wind into it. I believe that in Japan, we called instruments that did that “bellows.” A dwarven wind pump box was a device that harnessed fluctuating air capacity to push wind outward, using an airtight container with an attached exhaust valve. The design was well-conceived, capable of sending gusts of wind alternatively to two sides. It was also weighted, allowing a single person to continue to pump wind for as long as their stamina allowed.

But in the end, it all still struck me as a lot of work. I listened to Havel’s explanation and stared down at the blueprints, wondering if I couldn’t make some improvements. Electricity, wind power, and hydraulic power were all options for automation; we were already drawing water from a river, so hydraulic power made the most sense.

“I think I’ll make some tweaks,” I murmured, making Havel and his men frown.

“You’ll what?”

“The heck are you goin’ on about?”

They stared at me blankly. Or perhaps their expressions were more accurately described as exasperated. One of them even gave me a look that said he thought I was a moron. If I didn’t put my back into this, I could damage my honor as the lord of the land.

I decided to build a contraption that used the water we drew from the river, with a water wheel alternately operating two different bellows. Rather than stepping on them like pedals to increase and decrease the air capacity, a person could step on them to move a partition to the left or right, initiating the process. Essentially, the design was like the pedals of a paddleboat; it would use hydraulics to pump wind into the forge.

Once they had a chance to try it out, Havel and the others were shocked into bug-eyed silence. I left their frozen bodies alone and made the piping for the wind holes. After that, I created an airtight box that could hold the air drawn in by the water wheel. Several pipes came out of the box, all stretching around the forge.

“Where do you want me to put the wind holes?” I turned around to look at Havel. He and the rest of his men all had their arms folded, looking dead tired.

“This really is cheating,” one of the dwarves grumbled.

“Absurdity,” agreed another.

“I want that magic for myself.”

Their muttering was put to a stop by Havel punching himself in the face. He yelled, “You boneheads! We’re in the middle of making a forge! Quit your bellyaching and think about where to put the wind holes!”

His men punched themselves in the faces too, for whatever reason, then gathered around the forge. “Four wind holes for the lower and upper sections makes sense to me.”

“None in the middle?”

“That could work. The wind would be able to travel uniformly through the whole structure.”

“Hey, mark it out on the wall.” The dwarves started drawing circles on the forge to represent wind holes, still in heated discussion.

“All right, that should do it,” Havel said finally, looking up at the structure.

The other dwarves nodded, so I figured they must have reached a conclusion.

One of them said, “All right, not bad.”

“Not bad at all.”

This shtick was getting old. Were they happy with my work or not? Irritated, I made an iron straw. “I’m supposed to fix this onto the wind holes, right?” I asked, just to confirm.

The dwarves’ expressions shifted rapidly. “No, no! You’ve got it all wrong!”

“The nozzle for the wind hole’s gotta be perpendicular! Otherwise it’ll get clogged!”

“You make ’em thin in the middle, then widen it at the ends. Prevents the flow from reversing.”

“Either way, the end’ll melt and need replacing after about half a year. Iron and stone both melt.”

I took this in thoughtfully. Was it possible to preserve the nozzle so it wouldn’t deteriorate? I tried again, this time making a larger straw. Then I used the same materials I’d made the walls of the forge from and hardened the area around it.

“Oho, interesting idea,” said a dwarf. “But it ain’t gonna work. If only the

metal part melts, it’ll clog the air holes.”

“I see, I see… In that case, what if we made the nozzle with the same materials as the wall?”

The dwarves groaned and rolled their eyes. “We tried that once, of course, but after long-term use it started to fall apart. Metal melts and comes out on its own, but when a part of the wall breaks, it doesn’t melt, which clogs the whole thing up. When that happens, we gotta stop the forge and put out the flames, which puts the whole dang thing outta use for about two months.”

Right. At the same time, though, having to stop the forge every six months to replace the wind holes was also a pain in the butt. “Okay,” I tried, “in that case, why don’t I look into making wind holes we won’t have to replace?”

The reaction was immediate. “What?”

“You act like it’s so simple.”

“The dwarf nation has been looking into this for hundreds of years!”

“Well, I have the ability to conduct experiments that no one in the dwarf nation ever could,” I pointed out.

It was enough to make them all freeze up once again. The only response I got was a quiet “Ah.”

I continued, “I’m capable of making changes to the forge from the outside, even while it’s operational. I can even attach new wind holes to it.” I puffed out my chest to emphasize my brilliance.

Their jaws hit the ground. “Seriously?” one grumbled.

“Cheating!”

“We’d be lookin’ at a dwarven forge revolution…”

One dwarf gave the others a serious look. “Everyone, listen up. I plan on staying—”

“Let me speak first,” one of his buddies cut in. “Everyone, I’m going to stay in

—”

“Hold on a second! I’m going first!”

To dispel this bout of bickering, Havel clapped his hands together. He chuckled. Bewildered, I asked, “Uh, what’s going on?”

Havel stifled another laugh and pointed at the forge. “Their blacksmith blood is burnin’ red hot. So’s mine. Ain’t none of us ever seen a village as exciting as yours. There are weapons all over the place and more materials than we could ever use up. It’s lively to boot, and filled with kind folk. Sure, it’s hardly the dwarf nation, but from what I’ve seen it’s still a damn comfy place to live.” This time he let himself laugh loudly. “This place is a blacksmith’s paradise!”

In that case…

I turned to the squabbling dwarves. “I recently lucked my way into a deal with the Business Guild, so I can entrust the task of transporting the orichalcum to the dwarf nation to one of their couriers. If you guys are feeling it, how about you put down roots here in Seatoh Village?”

That cut their arguing short. They exchanged silent looks, then faced Havel.

Havel exploded with boisterous laughter. “Ha ha ha! If we’re feelin’ it, he says! Fellas, wanna stay here with me and make the best weapons in the whole damn world?!”

His companions all grinned. “Ooh, I like the sound of that!”

“Don’t that sound fun!”

“Looks like we’re your problem now, Lord Van!” They engaged in a round of back pats, looking thrilled.

And that was how Seatoh Village became home to a group of dwarven blacksmiths, a race that so rarely interacted with humanity.

 

A few days later I completed the firepan, allowing Havel and his men to melt down mithril ore and craft it into fine equipment. A week later, the first set of arms forged by Seatoh Village’s new blacksmiths came into the world.

“Wow, amazing!” I cried, examining their work. On a white stone table before me lay six new pieces: a silver sword, a shield, a helmet, armor, gauntlets, and leg guards. “This is an incredible sight. The sales on these will blow all our other stuff out of the water.”

Havel and his pals grinned.

“Damn right. And we’re gonna make even greater stuff!”

“But this set… It’s the first set we ever made here. There’ll never be another first set. So, Lord Van, we offer it to you.”

“Please use it with care.”

Touched, I accepted their gift. “Really? Thank you so much!” I looked over the sword and armor. They were works of art, clearly made with an attention to detail.

Smiling, I thought, I’m really glad I made that forge.

Havel crossed his arms, looking satisfied. “By the way, this territory of yours is incredible! I was so focused on smithing that I didn’t check it out ’til yesterday, but that public bath thing? Amazing! And Seatoh Village and the adventurers’ town both have one!”

“He’s right!” one of his pals chimed in. “Plus we can get our hands on any ore or monster part we could ever want! And the food’s delicious!”

Another dwarf said, “And this place has as many adventurers as a huge city, so there’s plenty of smithing to be done!”

They kept going, rattling off the merits of living in my territory. Along with ore and coal, I’d given them a decent chunk of change as start-up funds for their business, plus coverage for their living expenses. But because they’d flung themselves into their work as soon as the forge was ready, they’d only recently found time to take a look around the village and town.

“I heard dwarves like good booze, so the plan is to make a distillery soon,” I told them. “Get excited, gentlemen.”

They looked at me strangely. “You mean ale? You sure you don’t mean a brewery?”

“We prefer the strong stuff.”

I nodded and grinned. “I figured as much. Don’t worry, we’ll be making the

hard stuff. It’s going to be distilled, so it’ll probably be shochu or whiskey.”

They smirked at my teasing. “Ain’t never heard of those. They strong?”

“Now that sounds exciting.”

I smiled broadly. “Yeah, it’s gonna be great.”