Yesterday, after the marquise verdict, when I got home I somehow managed to slip away from Antón and hide the phlogistic solar panels without him seeing them. I think it's great that he wants to spy on me all day and night if he wants to, but I don't want him to know about everything we've already created.
I'm honestly exhausted from the damn banquet and the lovely "customs" of the nobles. And that's without even counting what happened to us the other night at dinner. And all the work on the suits…
At least I get a bit of privacy at night with Dalia. Apparently, the daughter of her mother (yeah, real classy) hid from me that she's someone very important at the university (and then she scolds me for keeping secrets, you know?). Tonight, before falling asleep, we talked for hours about the customs and what this world is like.
As Dalia already told us, the years here last 400 days, divided into 16 months of 25 days each, which are structured into 4 weeks of 8 days and one extra day per month dedicated to rest and worship of the so-called God Tolmas.
She works or goes to university during the first 3 weeks of the month and stays home on the fourth. We arrived in the last week of the month, and Amisair's birthday was on the 1st of the second month of spring.
By the way, the months don't have names, but they are categorized — four months of spring, four of summer, etc. I guess it makes sense in its own way. Personally, I prefer months to have names, but of course, they have four more months than we do, so I'd have to come up with four extra month names. (But then, when is my birthday? Should I keep the same date? But Hunt's birthday is on the 26th, and they don't have a 26th day... hmm... what can we do?)
— Dalia — You're still awake. —
●— Yeah, sorry, I was just looking at something. — I leaned in closer to her ear. — Subdimension. — I turned and hugged her tightly.
— Dalia — Alright, but it's late now. You should sleep, we have work tomorrow. —
●— You're right, sorry. —
…
In the morning, when I woke up, I found Antón waiting at the door of the room. He looked tired but was standing firm, completely still. At this rate, Dalia's office is going to become his room.
●— How long have you been standing there? —
— Antón — Since (6:00). —
●— But it's (7:22), you've been waiting at the door for over an hour. That's messed up. —
— Antón — It's my duty. —
●— I'm warning you, I'm not waking up before (7:00). Organize yourself however you want. —
I hooked his arm, and despite his attempt to resist, I managed to drag him to the dining room for breakfast. Durman was already eating, and Astrid was rushing around getting her things ready to head to the university.
— Durman — Good morning, youngsters! Ready to head to the guild? —
— Antón — Sir, excuse me, but he cannot go to the guild as your disciple. Please remember the conditions set by the marchioness. — (☝️🤓)
Poor Durman didn't take it very well. He had already gotten quite comfortable having me around the guild. He kept complaining, yelling, "Who's going to stir the fire with mana if I'm not there…"
Thanks to Hunt's timely rescue, we managed to escape Durman's grip and head off toward Orlan's company or enterprise.
After dealing with the paperwork and a bunch of other things only Hunt seems to understand, I took the liberty of gathering the artisans all five blacksmiths and five carpenters.
Blacksmiths:
Varo Forgevin, Dome Negronai, Hannes Soudacier, Paco Mettelmano, Val Fiermastr.
Carpenters:
Mateo Woodrix, Jean Corteviga, Fabian Tablier, Sandro Lecopert, Grzegorz Lemnaru.
I gathered them and explained the plan to build a printing press. Doubts came up, of course, and I tried to answer them as best as I could. But not having a blueprint for the carpenters to follow, and not having all the letters drawn for the blacksmiths to create the type patterns, was a real problem. So I called for Pudiente, thanks to Sora (General Services) being nearby.
●— Pudiente, I need you to get me some paper, something to write with, and send all these men to work while I finish a few things. —
As expected, Pudiente got to work immediately he sent Sora to get paper and instructed the men to tidy up the workshop and prepare for whatever task I would assign next.
While the craftsmen began the tasks Pudiente gave them, I started transferring the designs onto paper. First, I drew the frame the sturdy base everything would rest on. I marked the ends with straight, thick, precise lines, and added the joints using dowels and dovetails, just like they'd be made with the tools available here.
Carefully, I sketched the vertical supports, the frames, the movable platen. On the frame, I placed the central screw, the key piece, and broke it down in parallel views: the spindle, the fixed nut, and the stops. Then I drew the rocker and the crank the pressure system, the mechanism that would make everything work with just a flick of the wrist. I outlined it slowly, showing the contact points and forces.
In another view, I added how the movable type would align even though I hadn't made them yet. On the next sheet, I began drawing the alphabet of this world forty unique letters, thirty-three consonants, seven vowels each one different, and all with precise measurements, designed to be carved and replicated.
I lost myself in the drawing. After over two hours, the guys didn't know what else to do and had to call Pudiente to find something for them. They didn't want to bother me, but they also didn't want to sit around doing nothing. The charcoal dust dirtied my fingers, the paper crackled beneath my hand, and the machine that had existed only in my head was starting to become real.
●— Alright, this is done. — I shouted loud enough to be heard. — You can all come now. —
One of the carpenters (Jean) heard me and went to get the others. They arrived, tired. I laid out the plans on one of the carpenters' tables the bigger ones and we gathered around in a circle.
●— These are the plans I promised you. — I took a breath. — I can explain again, or we can start with questions. —
— Val — If I may speak. —
●— Of course. — I scanned the group with my eyes. — But don't call me "sir," I'm only 28, and of everyone here, I'm the one who knows the least about blacksmithing or carpentry. You're the masters here, not me. Got it? —
— Val — I don't get what this artifact is for. Can you explain it again? —
— Jean — Val, don't address him so casually, that's disrespectful. — he said, giving him a smack on the back of the head.
●— Jean, don't hit him again. I don't mind being spoken to informally — in fact, I prefer it. —
I explained again how the printing press was supposed to work and what we intended to use it for — that is, copying books on mathematics and teaching people how to read.
― Sandro ― There's something I don't get. Why math and reading books? Wouldn't books for the nobles be more important? You know, love stories and the stuff they read. ―
●― Great question, I love it. Sandro, how many nobles are there in this city? No... how many people can actually afford a book? ―
― Fabian ― Not many anymore, to be honest, and most people don't even know how to read. So they're not interested either. ―
●― Bingo, Fabian. Now, what would happen if everyone, or almost everyone, in the city knew how to read? And what if books were so cheap that a normal family could buy five books a month? Or even more? ―
The guys' faces were priceless like a perfect photo op. I sent Hunt a picture through the chat.
(#●― Look at them, so wholesome. ―#)
(#■― Wholesome? They already know about our plan to educate the population. ―#)
(#●― I just told them. ―#)
― Paco ― But sir, does that mean that even us — just simple workers — could read novels like nobles or the wealthier folk? ―
●― Exactly. Just imagine that your son or daughter could go to a sort of building — like a university — where they learn to read from a young age, where they learn math, history, general knowledge, how to do household tasks, where they're around other kids, a place that has thousands of books to read and learn from. ―
― Paco ― How do you know I have a son and a daughter? ―
●― Hunt and Pudiente told me a little bit about each of you. ― (Truth is, I got it from the file Hunt made in the subdimension.)
― Grzegorz ― So you want to build a strange future where everyone can read and write. ―
●― Yes. ―
― Antón ― You understand the gravity of your words, right? ― he said flatly, getting up from the chair Elena (General Services) had provided.
●― Antón, are you against these men's children having the right to a proper education? ― I asked, turning toward him. He took a defensive stance.
― Antón ― Just so you know, the marquise will be informed of this immediately. ―
The craftsmen got visibly upset, but I turned to them and winked.
●― That was the idea — so she takes action and does her job. ―
― Antón ― Who do you think you are, telling the marquise what to do? ― He stepped closer, ready to fight.
●― You want me to humiliate you like Hunt humiliated Alistar? ― I stepped toward him.
― Antón ― I'd like to see you try. Come on then, let's see if you've got the balls. ―
From behind him, a sword appeared above his head. It was Levi, who let it drop lightly onto Antón's head as punishment. To be honest, I had already noticed Hunt and Levi coming in just as Antón started acting all cocky.
I couldn't help but laugh seeing Levi scold him was just too funny. Hunt and Levi took control of the situation, and eventually Hunt ended up scolding me for provoking the guy. (Fair enough I had it coming.)
After that, I got to work researching how to define the meter, liter, gram, second, ampere, kelvin, candela, and if I had any time left, radians too.
Around noon (12:00), Hunt, Levi, and Pudiente "kidnapped" me to help prepare today's meal. Before leaving, I left the blueprints on the workbench and let them carry on as they saw fit. The carpenters dove right into the bench frame, the main supports, and the pillars, while the blacksmiths started preparing the hinges and type molds.
We loaded a cart with empty crates and a mental checklist I had already gone through three times before heading out. Hunt walked beside me, calm as ever. The others trailed behind, chatting among themselves but what surprised me most was seeing Bruno pulling the cart all by himself.
Back on my father's farm, I used to drag small wheelbarrows as a kid, but this monster was over five meters long. And once it was loaded, it was going to weigh as much as a war mule. I wasn't sure the poor man could handle it... though judging by the look in his eyes, he wasn't even questioning it.
We headed first to the hunters' guild a long building, grimy stone, with the unmistakable smell of dried blood.
The moment we crossed the threshold, a deep, raspy voice stopped us.
― Justo — Boys! Where the hell have you been, after everything that happened yesterday? ―
He hugged us like we were his own sons. Hunt and I respected Justo. He was as tough as his name, but also fair in the rarest and most necessary sense of the word.
He asked what we were doing there, and when we told him about the plan to feed the workers, he went silent for a moment, scratching his beard thoughtfully.
I cut in as best I could.
●— I need half a giant rabbit, Justo, — I said bluntly.
He haggled like the sly old fox he was, but in the end, we came out on top. He gave us half of a giant rabbit already cleaned and chopped plus the bones for broth.
But the real challenge came with the vegetables. In this world, meat is for the poor. It's abundant, hunted, tough but nutritious. Vegetables, on the other hand… they're practically a luxury. But I knew exactly what I needed for the dish I had in mind.
We bought:
A bit over 150 kilos of potatoes. (Better too much than not enough.)
20 kilos of sweet onions.
15 kilos of red and green peppers (the few that were decently priced).
10 kilos of carrots.
Garlic, luckily quite accessible sold in dry bundles.
Bay leaf, thyme, and wild oregano, all dried and wrapped in little cloth packets.
A few liters of dark wine, strong and rough, but it reminded me of the red wine from the cellars in my village.
A handful of coarse salt, very expensive, but essential.
And finally, oil. To my surprise, I even managed to get a bit of olive oil, which apparently is only used by the temple priests.
Bruno got the worst of it, of course. Hauling everything, sweating in silence, pulling the cart like it was just another part of his body. He didn't say a word, but I offered to help by pushing from behind, and Hunt joined in too. It was funny to see how surprised he looked when he realized we were helping. Pudiente questioned everything we were doing but didn't say a single word.
I had never cooked for this many people before. Back when I lived near the university, I used to cook, but only for myself not for 150 people.
As soon as we arrived at the workshop, I realized we had a problem. The tiny kitchen we had wasn't going to cut it. The stove and the rusty old pot could barely feed a dozen, and today we were feeding a crowd.
I turned to Pudiente, who was waiting by the gate, watching the boxes being unloaded.
●—Didn't your father use to sell big cauldrons? —
He nodded with a proud smile.
― Pudiente — Of course. There are still a few stored in the warehouse. I'll get you one. ―
He didn't take long. Soon enough, we had in front of us a black cast-iron cauldron, brand new. It had that deep, dark gleam of freshly treated metal. His father had made them right here in this very workshop before we took over. Now Pudiente sold them but not to just anyone. They were high-quality, thick, durable, built to last generations, and could hold at least thirty liters.
●— Solid as an anvil. Just what I needed. —
Seeing the size of the group and the fire setup, I realized one cauldron wasn't going to be enough. I'd known it since we unloaded the vegetables, but I just didn't want to admit I'd have to multiply my focus by three. Still, I had no choice.
Pudiente came back soon after, grinning, with two more cast-iron cauldrons.
I headed out to the courtyard with Sora, Anaïs, Claudia, Elena, and Roxana. They were all dressed for work, wearing aprons and ready to help.
The girls started washing the vegetables and chopping meat. I peeled potatoes with a sharp knife, surrounded by skeptical stares.
― Anaïs — Are you seriously going to use that? — she asked, making a face.
― Roxana — No one eats potatoes. Not even the poorest, most desperate for a bit of vegetables want those. They say they taste like damp dirt. —
I cracked a potato against the wooden table and kept peeling.
●—Trust me. — I answered without pausing. —
And then Hunt arrived, full of good intentions and zero skill.
■— Should I peel potatoes? — he asked, smiling, already holding a cutting board. I let him try. He didn't even last two minutes.
■— Shit! — he shouted — he'd cut his finger. Nothing serious, but enough for me to send him to the corner like a misbehaving child.
●— Go sit down. You studied to be a nobleman, not a cook. ―
He grumbled but walked off. Pudiente chuckled and handed him a rag to clean up.
We set up the three fires in the courtyard, using bricks, firewood, and sheer willpower. The girls Sora, Anaïs, Claudia, Elena, and Roxana split up to help. Each took a station with a cauldron and a knife. I stayed in the middle, conducting the whole thing like it was some kind of choreography of blades, wood, and smoke.
First, the giant rabbit bones, which I seared in a pan with a good splash of that rare, expensive olive oil. Then we divided them between the three cauldrons.
We added about 15 to 18 liters of water per cauldron, enough to cover the bones. We let it come to a boil. The meat came next at least 10 kilos of chopped rabbit per cauldron, with some fat to give the broth soul.
The potatoes were the biggest challenge. There were about 75 kilos in total, and although the girls helped with resignation, the volume was monstrous. We divided about 25 kilos per pot.
Then came the sweet onions, 6 to 7 kilos per cauldron, sliced thick. After that, the red and green peppers, cut into strips.
Chopped garlic, one head per pot. Carrots in slices, about 3 kilos each.
When the broth was boiling strongly, we added dark wine. Dense, strong, the kind that burns your nose going down. One liter per cauldron was enough to color everything and give it body. Lastly, coarse salt measured by eye.
Everything seemed under control... until it wasn't. Having three cauldrons at once isn't cooking, it's playing engineer after learning to solve quadratic equations. One is always hotter. Another doesn't bubble enough. One starts to stick to the bottom while another looks like clear soup. The smoke got into my eyes. I ran from one to the other as if I could split myself in three. The girls tried to help, but without my eyes on it, everything fell out of balance.
When everything had reduced well, I did what my mother used to do: I took some potatoes from each cauldron, already well cooked, and mashed them with a wooden spoon, mixing them back into the broth. The liquid thickened, got creamier. The texture I wanted.
When I finished, I saw that Hunt had cleaned all the plates and other dishes we used while cooking.
...
After the meal, I went back to the workshop with the guys to check on their progress. The blacksmiths were using the forge and their hammers to create letter molds, just starting to shape several prisms.
While I let them work quietly, I took command of the carpenters (giving orders because trying to do anything myself was useless—they outclass me by millions of years). While I prepared the food, they selected the best boards to make the bench and used charcoal to draw the measurements from the plans onto the wood.
Between questions and other doubts, I was surprised at how easily they understood the European technical drawing standards. Within an hour, all their doubts about my drawings were resolved, and the most experienced among them took charge to tell the others which tasks or pieces to start with.
My presence was completely ignored until they turned and saw me.
― Mateo Woodrix — Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to. —
●— What's wrong? —
― Mateo — It's a habit. With Orlan, I was the one giving orders to the others. — He sighed, looking down as he spoke to me.
●— And the problem? — I put a hand on his shoulder. — Just because I'm part owner now doesn't mean I know more about carpentry than you. You have decades of practice and learning in your craft; I barely have a couple notions of how things should be done, and I haven't even done them once in my life. —
― Mateo — I wasn't bothered that you took charge. — He said after raising his gaze.
●— Not at all, actually tell me how I can help. But keep in mind I'm less skilled than a young apprentice. —
― Mateo — That won't be a problem. —
I kept working side by side with Mateo almost all afternoon, preparing the pillars. Making holes in wood in the Middle Ages is harder than I thought; they literally used a chisel to make the holes and little by little shaped the square holes in the pillars. Despite their rudimentary working methods, I was surprised that no matter the process or task, they always increased their strength using mana.
But the real surprise was when I saw Jean lift one of the heavy pillars off the ground by himself to set it upright. I couldn't help but ask how it was possible for him to lift so much weight, and, puzzled, he explained that when he channels mana to his arms, they feel hot, but he gets stronger.
I couldn't bring myself to try it, but I realized it only boosted muscular strength, not the bones especially since I felt pain in my spine. That's when I noticed all of them were wearing wide back belts.
I didn't hesitate to message Hunt and tell him to ban that practice. Soon after, Pudiente appeared with a paper signed by him and Hunt, which I also ended up signing. It prohibited using mana to lift heavy weights.
The carpenters and blacksmiths were surprised because it was normal for them; other men from different company groups also complained, but after explaining it was for their own good, they gradually calmed down.
Hunt warned me we were nearing the end of today's workday, around 27:20 (16:30). I told them they could leave, but not before seeing how much we'd accomplished.
― Dome — What? What do you mean we're stopping for today? We can't, we barely did anything today. —
●— How many hours have you been here? —
― Jean — Counting the lunch hour, about 10 hours or so. —
●— No, you've been here, well, 11 hours. I think that's enough for today. —
― Mateo — But sir, we haven't finished a single piece. —
●— It's okay, tomorrow will be more and better. Head home, your families will surely appreciate it. —
― Sandro — Sir, are you sure about this, right? —
●— No, actually I'm not. 11 hours seems too long. We'll find a way to change it to 8. And by the way, don't call me sir — call me Neo, period. No more discussion, pack up and go home. Don't make me kick you out. —
I went to check on the blacksmiths, and I think, or it seemed to me, they overheard me arguing with the carpenters about kicking them out... They got scared as soon as I entered their workshop.
But the disappointment couldn't have been greater: they hadn't finished even 4 pieces. Varo barely had half a vowel done.
●— How many pieces have you finished? —
― Varo — This is the first one, sir. —
― Dome — With this one I'm working on now, today we've made 4 prisms, as you call them. —
●— Don't call me sir again. Call me Neo, period. — I said, half-sighing. — So, only 4. —
― Hannes — Are those few? —
●— Yes. —
― Hannes — Sir Neo, can we all stay and work until we complete the alphabet like you told us? —
●— Heee, NO. —
How had I not realized before? The language of this world has 40 letters, divided into 32 consonants and 8 vowels. Between 42% and 45% of the letters are vowels.
If we take as an example Dalia's rune book, a typical page has about 40 lines, and each line, counting spaces, contains between 70 and 80 characters. In this language, there are no capital letters or accent marks, so counting is fairly simple.
This gives us between 450 and 500 words per page, which amounts to about 2,500 to 3,000 letters counting spaces. Of these letters, 45% are vowels and 55% consonants.
The distribution of the patterns is not uniform. The vowels, being only eight, are almost evenly distributed, needing about 170 copies of each to cover the entire page.
The other 32 consonants share the rest, which translates to about 52 copies of each.
Adding it all up, the total number of movable types needed to compose a page is around 3,000 pieces, although this number must increase to include spaces and punctuation marks, reaching about 3,500 pieces per page.
This calculation is crucial to understand the magnitude of the work involved in printing in this language and helps plan the amount of molds and types that need to be made for the printing press.
●— Stop what you're doing and better go home yourselves as well. —
― Varo — You're going to fire us too? What about the contract and feeding our families? You give us an impossible job, and if we can't do it, you fire us. —
●— He he he, calm down. — Hannes held Varo back so he wouldn't try anything. — Who said I'm going to fire you? —
― Hannes — You just fired the carpenters, right? —
●— Nooo, what stories you make up all by yourself. —
― Varo — You don't fool me; I know what I heard. —
― Antón — If I may speak. — He interrupted everyone.
●— Please. —
― Antón — Despite my differences with Sir Neo, I consider him one of the best masters one could have, so calm down and let him explain. —
After a brief explanation of what happened with the carpenters and calming them down as well, I sent them off without needing to clean up, I would take care of it.
― Varo — I'm sure you don't want us to help you with anything. —
●— No, don't worry, I've got it covered. Go rest. And remember, tomorrow will be better and more. —
Until Hunt came to relieve me by cleaning, and once I had the fire out, we left the guards and Pudiente, who had some order to take care of…
●— I don't know what to do, we have to make many patterns for the letters. —
■— About 3,000 or something like that, right? —
●— Yes, and if we make them by hand, it's going to take forever. Making them out of wood isn't going to work the way I want. —
■— Then create a sand mold and cast them. —
●— You're a pure genius. —
― Levi Antón — Sand? —
Shortly after, I went home, where as soon as I walked through the door, Dalia greeted me with a big hug. Dinner was ready. I showered quickly, ate, and went straight to bed with Dalia.
All my worries disappeared when she lay on top of me; the weight of her body, the softness of her skin, and the way she settles on me relax and calm me. Some call it noise, but for me, the sound of the other members of the house walking or talking around the house comforts me and reassures me that everything is alright.
She told me all about her day, how yesterday's "show" left its mark, and even though I wasn't to blame for anything, she told me how the girls who were harassing her stopped, in fact, she told me they avoided her and didn't even want to come near her.
She told me how more than half of the students didn't attend her classes to inform their parents... that today had been a calm day for her and it was the first day she felt peaceful at the university.