“Eh—?”
Miss Eleanor tilted her head slightly, blinking her deep blue eyes as her fingertip gently tapped her chin. “Wouldn’t this way let us record more content?”
“What exactly do you take her for…”
Julius sighed helplessly, holding that heavy notebook. “It’s not like we’re compiling an encyclopedia.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s impossible either.”
“?”
“All right~ I’ll just give you another one.”
The girl suddenly broke into a smile, like a magician pulling a trick, as she drew a small leather notebook from the vanity drawer.
Miss Eleanor’s slender fingers lifted gracefully, drawing a delicate arc in the air.
The small leather notebook seemed to be pulled by invisible threads, lightly floating toward Julius.
At the same time, the heavy “Encyclopedia” in the boy’s hands slowly rose, and the two books crossed paths in midair.
When the notebook landed steadily in Julius’s palm, he instinctively weighed it — just the right thickness, with a finely textured dark brown leather cover, the Olivius Family Crest embossed on its corner.
As for the Davidai, it obediently floated back into the maid’s hands.
“This should be fine now, right?”
Eleanor propped her cheek with her hand. “Don’t forget your promise to me.”
Julius nodded and turned to leave the room.
After he left, the maid, holding the heavy notebook, looked at Eleanor curiously.
“Miss, what is this?”
“Well, just letting him record some stuff.”
Eleanor winked at the maid. “Don’t think too much about it.”
“Oh, and if he needs any help, just assist him without reporting back to me.”
The maid nodded earnestly. The young lady turned her head to look out the window.
Not far away, Julius was flipping through the newly acquired notebook, his steps unconsciously leading toward the abandoned warehouse where Helos often stayed.
***
Helos rested her chin on her hand, fingertips lightly tracing the crooked wooden carving before her.
Sunlight streamed through the workshop window, casting shadows across the carving that highlighted its rough marks.
Looks like her woodcarving skills had improved quite a bit.
Though it was still impossible to tell what she had actually carved.
She stroked the patterns on the back of the carving, a small smile tugging at her lips.
If she kept practicing like this, maybe she could really make a living from it someday.
If she ever got kicked out of the Duke’s Mansion, at least she could set up a street stall selling crude wooden trinkets.
Though, she guessed it probably wouldn’t even earn enough for bread.
Helos sighed and tossed the carving into the wooden box at her feet.
The box was already filled with a dozen similar failed pieces.
Helos shook her head. These things were just a pastime, after all. She had more important matters to attend to!
Her gaze fell on the pile of twisted scrap in the corner of the workbench, and her shoulders slumped.
Those scraps, rejected even by the junk collectors, were the fruits of her recent efforts—or rather, proof of her failures during this time.
“I have absolutely no clue…”
The girl ruffled her already messy silver hair, pressing her forehead heavily against the cold workbench.
Everything in this world’s technology—if it could even be called technology—was built on magic.
To make magical devices, she had to first understand how magical power flowed inside the apparatus, just like in her previous life where making electrical appliances required understanding electric currents, and making machinery required grasping transmission principles.
But the problem was, she had never actually seen what “magical power” looked like.
For Helos, it was no easier than asking a blind person to distinguish a rainbow or a fool to teach rocket science.
Every time she approached a magical device, the intricate magic circuits would completely collapse under her Curse of Silence, becoming nothing but a lifeless mess.
Helos stared at the design sketches plastered all over the wall, unconsciously tapping the tabletop with her fingertips.
Those crooked lines mirrored the chaos in her mind—no breakthrough in sight.
She buried her face deep in her arms, silver strands scattered over the workbench.
“Looks like I’ll really have to find a couple of books to read……”
Her voice came muffled from between her arms, tinged with self-abandonment.
Just then, a faint “click” sound came from outside the window—like a snapping tree branch.
Helos’s ears twitched; she lifted her head, narrowing her eyes into slits, slowly turning to look behind her.
Outside, a familiar black uniform hem was slipping into the bushes.
“Hey! You there!”
She stood up and slammed open the window. The wooden frame hit the wall with a loud “bang.” “That Saint Knight kid over there! I saw you—”
Silence from behind the bushes, only the rustling of leaves.
Finally, Julius slowly stood up, grass and leaves clinging stubbornly to his uniform.
“Ahem.”
He pretended to remain composed as he brushed off his sleeve, flicking off a beetle crawling on it. “If you’d told me sooner, I wouldn’t have hidden.”
Helos leaned on the windowsill, propping her chin on her hand as she scrutinized him.
“What were you hiding for?”
“Nothing.”
“Spying on me?”
“…I was just enjoying the atmosphere of nature.”
The boy’s voice grew quieter and quieter until the last few words almost disappeared in the breeze.
Helos snorted with laughter.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really bad at making up lies?”
Julius opened his mouth, his throat working, but no words came out.
Helos looked at his flushed face and helpless expression, sighed deeply, and turned to push open the creaking workshop door.
“Enough standing around like an idiot.”
She waved without looking back. “Come in.”
The boy hesitated for a moment, clutching the notebook hidden behind his back, then finally pulled it into his chest and stepped over the threshold.
The strange smell hitting him as he entered the workshop made him wrinkle his nose.
Even though he was mentally prepared, the sight before his eyes made Julius catch his breath—
The workbench was piled with twisted metal scraps, as if ravaged by a tornado, chaotic and disorderly.
Layers of design sketches were tacked to the wall, the top one hastily depicting some mechanical structure, with notes marking failed attempts.
The floor was a pitiful sight, covered thickly with gears, screws, and unknown metal fragments, creaking unpleasantly underfoot.
In the corner lay a pile of charred “experiments,” looking like survivors of several minor explosions.
The only somewhat interesting thing was a wooden pulley system resembling a hoist set beside the workbench.
“This is such a mess.”
Julius blurted out, then immediately caught himself and hurriedly added:
“I mean, very… creative.”
“Like I care!”