Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 3.4 - Chapter 7

Let’s Print More Stuff 

Several days had passed since the world was cursed with the birth of Angelica’s lecture blade, but it turned out to be quite the interesting little thing—while it acted and spoke like Ferdinand, it was completely lacking in knowledge. It was supposedly meant to absorb information through its surroundings and by having its master Angelica teach it things, but this meant she was stuck getting lectured by a sword that knew even less than she did. 

“So it lectures you, but nothing much comes from it?” That sounds terrible... I muttered on the inside. 

The manablade gleamed in response. “What my master must first do is imbue me with knowledge,” it declared in a haughty tone, resembling Ferdinand in attitude alone. 

“Well then, Angelica, I suppose you’ll need to study in order to help your manablade accumulate knowledge,” I observed. 

“Stenluke will actually remember things, unlike me, so the time spent teaching him will undoubtedly be worth it.” 

“Stenluke?” 

Angelica smiled. “That’s his name,” she said, stroking her manablade. Given its intelligence, she had apparently decided naming it was necessary. 

Damuel, who had been looking down uncomfortably at the manablade as it spoke in Ferdinand’s voice, shifted his gaze to Angelica and crossed his arms. “In that case, I suppose you will want to go through a crash course on fourth-year lessons to prepare your weapon?” he asked, adding under his breath, “It should be much easier this time, since we won’t have to repeat ourselves over and over again for you to understand.” 

Cornelius nodded in agreement. “Right. My brother had some notes on fourth-year lessons among the study materials he gave us.” 

“Preparing in advance so that you aren’t knocked off your feet again would indeed be wise,” Brigitte added. 

Angelica listened to everyone’s opinions while nodding solemnly, then suddenly looked up with a glint in her blue eyes. She faced Damuel and held out the sword. “Damuel, I leave the rest to you. Good luck, Stenluke.” 

“My master, you yourself must do the studying!” the manablade exclaimed. “I cannot hear the voices of others without mana flowing through me, and if all the lessons are to be taught to me, then your mana will certainly not last.” 

It seemed that Angelica lacked the mana to keep the sword animated all day, which would be necessary if she wanted it to take lessons in her place. Her eyes widened like saucers as she gripped the manablade in shock. “So, I’ll... I’ll never be able to escape from studying?” 

“Of course not, you fool!” the sword barked in a very familiar fashion. It was so similar to Ferdinand that I was honestly a little impressed. This was some manablade; hopefully it could keep up the good work and actually get its master to study. 

“I suppose I should compose a study plan so that Angelica and Stenluke can learn together...” Damuel mused aloud. 

“Thank you for your efforts,” I said. 

While Damuel and Cornelius got to work writing up a plan for Angelica, I started digging into the pile of study materials myself. Sure, they were only lesson guides and classroom notes, but they were lines of text that I hadn’t read before. And since my very purpose in life was to read, I had to delve in at once. 

I read through the fourth-year materials that Eckhart had given us, reminiscing about how blissful it had always been to start a new school year and be given a ton of unfamiliar textbooks. It looked like Eckhart had often asked Ferdinand for help while he was staying at the Royal Academy, judging by the comments and explanations written in his handwriting here and there amid the documents. 

My brow knitted in thought. “So, Brigitte—do you think I could sell study resources to students using Ferdinand and Eckhart’s materials as a base?” I asked. Even in my Urano days, the notes of top students had been worth a lot of money; surely these resources would be especially valuable considering this world didn’t have textbooks quite like ours, with lessons seemingly being based around lectures. 

“I do believe they would sell well. However...” Brigitte glanced over at Damuel, bemusement visible in her amethyst eyes. I followed her gaze to see that he was frowning anxiously. 

“Do you have a problem with this, Damuel?” 

“Writing out notes on boards to sell and attending classes for others in order to transcribe lectures for them are some of the few ways for laynobles at the Royal Academy to earn disposable income. If you started to distribute study resources based on Lord Ferdinand and Lord Eckhart’s notes, I am certain there are many students who will end up losing out.” 

I couldn’t just go and quash a valuable source of money for poor students. Before I went about selling study resources myself, I would need to find an alternative for them. 

“I thought it would be a good way to boost the education level in Ehrenfest, but I see that I will need to think about it more carefully first.” 

“Thank you.” 

As we continued our discussion, an ordonnanz flew in for Brigitte. The ivory bird flapped its wings, landed on her wrist, and then began speaking in Ferdinand’s voice. It seemed that the Plantin Company had requested a meeting with me; there was something they wanted to discuss before summer came. 

Since I had Earthdays off, there was enough leeway for me to return to the temple. I had Brigitte make a reply ordonnanz, which I then spoke to. 

“This is Rozemyne. Once I have completed Fruitday’s Mana Replenishment, I shall return to the temple until Waterday, when I am required for the next one. Please inform Gil that I would like to meet the Plantin Company in the morning on Waterday.” 

“There is work here for you to complete on Earthday as well,” Ferdinand responded in turn. “Come to my room at third bell.” 

And with that, my entire weekend disappeared. I had been spending so much of my time in the castle casually reading lately that I would probably have a hard time readjusting to this new schedule.

That night at dinner, I informed Bonifatius and Wilfried of my weekend plans. 

“I will be absent from the castle after Mana Replenishment on Fruitday to check the workshop and orphanage in the temple. I shall return in time for Mana Replenishment on Waterday.” 

“I see. Do not overdo it,” Bonifatius said with a nod, being a man of relatively few words. He looked a lot like Karstedt—quite broad-shouldered and rather musclebound for someone his age—though he was much more blunt and often had a sharp gleam in his eyes. I even found him a little scary, but I had been assured by Cornelius that he actually had an enormous soft spot for me, which was impressive given that it was apparently rare for him to show any concern for the well-being of others; when my brothers got sick, he would normally just bark at them for being frail and weak. 

In my case, Bonifatius had been warned by Karstedt that so much as a shout could cause me to literally drop dead. And after realizing how sickly I really was from my multiple fainting episodes in the castle, he was doing his best to keep his distance, terrified about being anywhere near a child who would collapse from something as minor as getting struck by a single fateful snowball. That explained why he always seemed to be avoiding me to some degree. 

“You’ll really be okay traveling to the temple by highbeast after performing the Mana Replenishment? You’re strong in the weirdest of ways, Rozemyne; running around’s enough to almost kill you, but somehow you can handle Mana Replenishment without batting an eye,” Wilfried grumbled with a frown. Just moving mana from the feystones was enough to exhaust him, so he found it hard to believe that I could travel to the temple right after performing the Replenishment. 

“Mana and stamina are two very different things,” I replied tersely. It helped that I was used to moving mana around my body, and since I used mana for things all the time, I never ended up with too much built up inside of me. Compared to my commoner days where I was forced to endure my mana always swelling to bursting-point, life was good.

And so came Fruitday. I returned to the temple after finishing the usual Mana Replenishment, by which time it was late enough for seventh bell. 

“Welcome back, Lady Rozemyne,” my lined-up attendants greeted me. I was suddenly overwhelmed with nostalgia, like it had been ages since I last saw them. 

“I have returned. Has anything changed in my absence?” 

When I returned to my chambers, I was led straight to an already prepared bath. Then, once I had been washed, it was time to receive my pre-bed reports. Fran served me some tea before joining Zahm to speak first, since they had managed the High Bishop’s chambers while I was gone, and together with Monika they reported no notable changes aside from going to the High Priest’s chambers rather than the High Bishop’s to do work. 

“That said, while your chambers remain unchanged, the temple as a whole has been transforming little by little,” Fran began. 

“Now that Brother Kampfer and Brother Frietack are highly valued by the High Priest for their assistance, several blue priests have begun to show an interest in administrative work,” Zahm continued. 

The blue priests who had previously found themselves in a neutral position reportedly observed Kampfer and Frietack, then approached Ferdinand to join them. He had subsequently determined that there was no harm in recruiting them, considering their former neutrality, and began training them as well. 

These priests had spent most of their lives doing nothing even close to resembling work, so they were being put through the wringer in the same way as Kampfer and Frietack, who watched the new recruits with warm eyes while remembering having endured the same hellish trials themselves. 

“The High Priest has been brimming with life lately. He also consumes dramatically fewer of those potions you were so worried about him relying on,” Fran said. 

“No doubt due to the fact that he can now entrust his work to others. It feels as though he finally has some breathing room in his schedule.” 

Ferdinand being able to complete his work without relying on potions meant that his successors were being trained at a reasonable pace. I could imagine the blue priests were having a rough time due to his brutal training methods, but... all’s well that ends well. 

“Gil, Fritz—how goes the workshop?” I asked, my eyes drawn to the new picture book in Gil’s hand. With Fran and Zahm done, it was their turn to give reports, and what I wanted to know more than anything was how printing was advancing in the workshop. 

Noticing my gaze, Gil grinned and held out the book. “We have finished the picture book on the winter subordinates,” he announced. 

I took the book and stroked its cover, which was covered with scattered red petals and looked very fancy. Red was, of course, the divine color of winter. I then brought the book to my face and rubbed my cheek against it, inhaling the sharp scent of ink that pierced my senses. It was a heavenly smell that made me melt right then and there. 

After enjoying that brief moment, I lined one of each picture book stored in my chambers on the table. There was one book for the King and Queen alongside the Eternal Five, then one for each of the individual seasons’ subordinate gods. The children’s picture bible set was complete, and an emotional sigh unconsciously escaped my lips. 

“Aaah, there’s nothing quite so pristinely beautiful as a complete set of books. How splendid. Shall we pray to the gods in honor and appreciation of my Gutenbergs? Praise be to Mestionora the Goddess of Wisdom and Kunstzeal the Goddess of Art!” I declared, shooting both arms into the air. 

Gil gave a big nod, his deep-purple eyes shining proudly. “I knew you would like it, Lady Rozemyne.” 

“Well done, Gil. Well done. I am blessed to have such fine workers as attendants. Now, what shall we print next? We must keep up the pace and produce an ever-growing catalog of books. Eheheh.” 

Fran sighed with exasperation, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Lady Rozemyne, you are getting too excited. Please contain yourself. Zahm and Fritz are becoming unsettled.” 

Even though I had only let out a sliver of my true feelings, both Zahm and Fritz were visibly uncomfortable, wearing stiff expressions as they averted their eyes. 

“Both of you, this is how Lady Rozemyne normally reacts when presented with books,” Fran explained. “Please get used to it sooner rather than later.” 

Ignoring that, I stacked up the picture books and hugged them to my chest, carrying them over to the nearby bookcase where I delicately started lining them up. The fact that I could step back and admire a full row of books in my own room was enough to make me sigh with bliss. 

Aaah, it’s so wonderful. Could there be anything better than both the book rooms and my own chambers simultaneously filling with new books? How should I express my joy at more and more being brought into existence? 

“I would like to share this bliss with everyone in the world,” I mused aloud. 

“Won’t you be doing that by selling the books after the Starbind Ceremony?” Gil asked. 

You know what... That’s a great way to put it. 

I looked up with glistening eyes. “Indeed. I will share it with everyone. But I would also like to use this opportunity to create more books as well. Gil, do you think you would be able to finish the collection of knight stories before the Starbind Ceremony?” 

Gil tilted his head in thought, counted something on his fingers, then shook his head regretfully. “We’ve finished three of the short stories, but I don’t think we have enough time to print them all.” 

“Both typesetting and proofreading takes a significant amount of time, so we could perhaps finish two more short stories at best,” Fritz added, taking out the half-finished collection. “Lady Rozemyne, how would you recommend we bind these together? Would you have each story bound individually, or all of them combined into one? Please advise.” 

I skimmed the three available knight stories while considering the best way to sell them. Given that each individual customer would be ordering whatever covers they liked regardless of what method we chose, there would almost certainly be no problem with us binding the short stories individually. Plus, it was possible that someone might only be able to afford a single story rather than the entire collection. 

“Bind each short story individually, if you would. I shall sell whatever we have ready by the Starbind Ceremony.” 

“As you wish.” 

“Lady Rozemyne, now that the picture books are finished, the mimeograph printers are available again. Is there anything else you would like to print? If there is something you need, we shall make sure it is done,” Gil said very heroically. 

I pulled open one of my desk drawers and took out my list of potential books that I wanted to make. “Text-heavy books look neater and overall more visually appealing when produced with letterpress printers, so we should use the mimeographs for books that predominantly contain illustrations, charts, and the like. I wonder what I should print, then...?” I pondered aloud. 

If we were going to be selling whatever I decided on after the Starbind Ceremony, then I would want to produce something that met the needs of adults, in contrast to the products I had sold in the winter playroom. Perhaps I could print the recipe books and sheet music that I had previously considered putting off until I had more leeway. 

“Recipes and sheet music are well suited for mimeograph printing, but I should discuss this matter with Ferdinand before anything else.” 

I didn’t have that much time to spend in the temple, and trying to complete everything that I wanted to do meant that I was going to be exceedingly busy. I needed to help Ferdinand in his chambers from third bell tomorrow anyway, so I decided to use that opportunity to ask about the recipes and sheet music. 

Once I had voiced these plans to Fran while writing them down in my diptych, I slid into bed.

Had I been in the castle, this Earthday would have been a wonderful day off spent holed up in the book room, but it was always the same old routine in the temple. At third bell, I promptly headed to Ferdinand’s chambers. 

“Excuse me, Ferdinand.” 

“Ah, there you are. Now, allow me to introduce you to the blue priests who have since begun working here,” Ferdinand said as he glanced up from his paperwork. 

A few blue priests I had barely ever seen before stopped their own work to kneel. They seemed to be the ones Ferdinand was in the middle of training since they were currently battling through stacks upon stacks of boards with their calculators, just as I had done in the past. 

Once Ferdinand had finished introducing me to the blue priests, he asked about life in the castle, which meant I could finally get to the point. I excitedly leaned over the desk and began to talk about the books I wanted to make. 

“I’ve finished all of my picture books about the gods, so I was thinking of using the mimeograph printers to create collections of sheet music and recipes next. May I print and sell a book of the songs you played at the concert?” I asked. While I had of course been the one to introduce those songs to this world in the first place, it was Ferdinand and Rosina who arranged my humming into sheet music that could be played on the harspiel. 

Ferdinand gave a light shrug. “They are not my songs, so as long as you do not couple them with any unwelcome illustrations, you may do with them as you like.” 

“Oh? But I was going to put your name in the credits, as the composer. I’m yet unable to write sheet music, and it’s thanks to you that the song is playable on the harspiel at all.” 

“I merely arranged your humming. I did not compose any songs, and thus should not receive such recognition,” Ferdinand replied firmly. But I didn’t want to identify myself as the composer either; I was simply remembering the songs from my Urano days, so I certainly couldn’t claim to have composed them. 

“How can I call myself a composer when I cannot even play the songs?” I sighed. 

“Composing and playing are two entirely different actions. If you are to include credits, keep them accurate.” 

My plan had been to push the showy position onto Ferdinand, but he blocked me entirely. It was no issue, though—I would simply list Ferdinand and Rosina as the arrangers in big letters, then credit myself as the inspiration in much smaller letters beneath them. 

“Incidentally, I would also like to make a book titled Rozemyne’s Ravishing Recipes. Is there anything I should know in advance?” 

“You may print a book of recipes, but wait until next winter to put it up for sale. You would also do well to sell them at a time when all nobles are gathered together. Draw their attention with new recipes this Starbind Ceremony, then spread rumors of the recipe book and its price. It should be an expensive product, unlike your other books.” 

I hadn’t yet settled on a final price for the recipe book. It would probably be wise to meet with Benno to decide whether I should keep it in line with how much Sylvester had paid for the recipes, or sell limited editions to give a premiere feeling and jack up the price. 

“In that case, I shall prepare to print the sheet music and recipe book. Would it be okay for me to have Rosina write out the sheet music?” 

“Indeed. She will most likely be perfect for the job,” Ferdinand said, granting his permission immediately. He had seen Rosina’s work firsthand when arranging my humming with her, so he knew that she had both beautiful handwriting and a strong grasp on music theory. 

“Is that all you have to report? If so, begin your work. There is quite a lot of math that has built up.” 

And so, I faced my first mountain of boards in a long time, scrawling away at a slate as I worked through them. Meanwhile, the newbie blue priests widened their eyes and muttered that I was simply too good; it seemed they weren’t yet working fast enough to satisfy Ferdinand. 

“Do not just watch her. You are already slow enough; the least you can do is work without such unnecessary pauses,” Ferdinand chastised, not even looking up from his own work. 

The blue priests inhaled sharply and quickly got back to moving their calculators. They still weren’t used to using them, and their movements were clumsy enough that I could guess it would be quite some time before they actually started speeding up. 

Fourth bell rang soon enough, signaling that it was time for lunch. I returned to my chambers, having finished my calculating work, and quickly approached Rosina, who was playing harspiel. 

“Rosina, I would like to entrust you with writing out sheet music,” I said. “Ferdinand has already given me his permission.” 

She paused mid-strum, blinked several times, then slowly tilted her head. As always, she moved with such grace that even the simplest gestures appeared utterly breathtaking. 

“What sheet music, might I ask?” 

“Sheet music for all the songs that Ferdinand played at his harspiel concert. I am going to sell them as a book, so I ask that you transcribe them as carefully as you can. Please also write the song titles and arrangers’ names in beautiful letters.” 

“As you wish. I shall draw the finest sheet music I can, so that I may live up to what is expected of me as your personal musician.” 

Rosina gracefully accepted the job, which was unsurprising, since she generally loved to do anything involving music. I asked her to include Ferdinand as the arranger, putting my name as the inspiration in small letters beneath it. 

“Might I also add more sheet music for songs of my own arrangement?” she asked, placing a thoughtful hand on her cheek and momentarily averting her gaze. 

I of course accepted the suggestion with open arms. “Absolutely. The more books we have, the better. Once you have completed the sheet music, please pass it all to Fritz and Gil. I have informed them to begin printing as soon as everything is ready.” 

“I understand that you are excited, Lady Rozemyne, but please eat lunch before discussing printing matters,” Fran interjected, dousing my excitement with cold water. In a way, he sounded like my mother from my Urano days—she was always equally exasperated when I ended up so absorbed in my reading that I forgot to eat. 

“I suppose you’re right,” I said with a light shrug before taking my seat at the table. That was when Nicola came in carrying our food. 

“Lady Rozemyne, lunch is more elaborate today due to Hugo’s assistance. He competed with Ella by preparing many of the new recipes he learned for the Italian restaurant. I am quite looking forward to the leftovers,” she said happily as she lined up the plates. 

That reminded me—there was something that I wanted to ask her. 

“Nicola, I have decided to make a recipe book for my favorite foods.” 

“Oh my, a recipe book?” Nicola replied, clapping her hands together in excitement. “I can’t wait for more people to get to enjoy this delicious food.” 

I proceeded to ask her to tell Hugo and Ella to write out the recipes I had taught them. This would have been a lot simpler had I been able to speak to the chefs myself, but it wasn’t easy for the adopted daughter of an archduke to just waltz into the kitchen. 

“I would like to discuss this with Hugo and Ella in more detail, but first, they need to finish writing down the recipes. Furthermore, I wonder whether they could separate the relatively traditional, easier-to-make foods from the more unique, complex ones that require more preparation. Once we’ve decided on the exact recipes, we can—” 

“Lady Rozemyne. As I said, please wait to discuss printing until after lunch,” Fran repeated, gripping the pitcher of water in his hand with an icy cold smile. 

That isn’t good. 

“My apologies. I shall begin eating at once,” I said, picking up my cutlery. 

Nicola, sensing Fran’s wrath, quickly retreated to the kitchen while talking about preparing the next course. 

No sooner had I taken my first bite of a seasonal salad and started chewing than yet another thing came to mind. “Monika, forgive me for only just remembering this, but please go to the workshop and borrow the needles and thread necessary for binding books.” 

“Lady Rozemyne, printing talk must wait.” 

“Th-This isn’t printing talk. It’s bookbinding talk—or, um, rather, preparation for my afternoon plans,” I replied, hurriedly attempting to justify myself. 

Fran started rubbing his temples. He really was similar to Ferdinand, who I was certain would be launching some sharp rebukes my way right about now had he been here. Maybe this likeness had become so much more evident lately because, while I was staying at the castle, Fran was doing his work in Ferdinand’s chambers. 

After seeing Monika out of the room, I continued my meal, actually staying quiet this time. Only once I was finished could we finally start bookbinding. 

I bound the collection of Mom’s stories that I had been gradually piecing together since winter, the cover art of which was a family illustration I had drawn myself. It had been done in a cartoony style, which I wasn’t sure the people of this world would look upon too fondly, but I had no other choice since I didn’t have any photos to use. 

...Once I finish this one-of-a-kind handmade picture book, I’ll have Lutz deliver it to my family.