Renya folded her arms, looking around at the maids—her expression composed, but her tone laced with sharpness.
"Are you all really sure you can build it?" she asked sweetly, dangerously, her golden eyes glinting like a blade. "Just because we saw it… doesn't mean we can make it."
The room went quiet again, like the air itself had grown heavier. The whispers stopped. Some of the younger maids glanced at each other nervously.
Seeing that everything had calmed down, Renya turned her gaze toward Paul.
"How do we make it?" she asked in a serious tone.
Paul looked back at her, confused. "You mean... both?" he asked awkwardly.
Renya nodded once.
Paul sighed lightly, then stood a little straighter. "If it's the 98 Mosquito, we can start cutting down material from the nearby Balsa Wood Core. It's light, workable, and strong enough once we reinforce it with rune layering. We'll need to integrate magic reinforcement along the main spars and joints."
Renya said nothing, just waited with expectant eyes.
Taking that as a sign to continue, Paul pointed at the second sketch.
"For the Me 323 Gigant... we can't use balsa. It's too weak for the weight class. I suggest a welded steel-tube structure for the fuselage—it's more durable and doesn't drain mana like continuous rune matrices. As for the wing ribs and fairings, we can use reinforced plywood. It's lighter and we can apply runes selectively to save on magic output."
As Paul spoke, some of the maids nodded along. A few scribbled notes. Liora tilted her head with a little "Ooh~" while grinning brightly.
Paul placed both hands on the table and looked down at the sketches. "I already calculated rough loads. As long as we balance the engine weight and use runes on the frame joints, it should fly."
Renya finally nodded, satisfied—for now.
But Paul wasn't done. His voice dropped slightly.
"But more than that…"
The chatter died down instantly. Everyone looked at him again.
Paul looked up slowly. "We need very high energy."
Silence.
Then, all at once:
"Oh, I forgot…"
"That's right…"
"So how do we do that…?"
Their hopeful mood dimmed a little. Some of the maids looked unsure now.
Seeing everyone getting confused and tension rising again, Paul raised his voice slightly to catch their attention.
"Okay," he said firmly. "We'll postpone the foundation work for now. What matters most right now is building the AMP suit and getting it operational."
The room fell silent. All eyes were back on him.
He continued, voice calm but serious, "I've already sketched a solar panel system to support the power problem, but... it's not really necessary."
His tone dropped slightly at the end, tinged with resignation.
Renya tilted her head, puzzled. "What do you mean, Prince?" she asked with growing interest.
Paul sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We still rely on mana crystals to power several devices—even the AMP suit. But those crystals are limited. Very limited…"
He trailed off, his tone laced with frustration.
At that moment, Liselotte, who had been quietly thinking, suddenly raised her hand. "Prince, if that's the issue… I think I might have a solution," she said confidently.
Paul gave her a nod, and Renya glanced her way with mild curiosity.
With confidence in her voice, Liselotte stepped forward. "Why don't we set up a contract with every Alchemist shop in the city?"
Paul's expression remained unreadable, but his gaze told her to continue.
"Mana crystals aren't rare," she said, gesturing lightly. "They're just underproduced. This region doesn't need many, so the Alchemist got lazy. No demand, no supply. But if we contract them, we create steady demand—they'll have no choice but to start refining and supplying again."
Paul blinked, then slowly turned toward Renya, who had turned away and was gazing out the window with an unreadable expression.
"Renya," Paul said flatly. "Explain."
Renya turned back, her face slightly guilty. "Brunhild said... military equipment—swords, armor, shields—they've all suddenly increased in the market. Fourfold in just two months."
Everyone tensed.
Renya continued, her voice quieter, "So the budget meant for other divisions... is already spent."
Paul's eyes narrowed, and after a pause, he said with renewed determination, "Then we'll make the weapons ourselves."
That declaration caught the room off-guard. Paul turned to face everyone with confidence.
"I'll draw up the schematics for a weapons production machine—one that can forge blades, shape armor, and cast shields with precision. But the top priority now is building and operating the AMP suit. That's our edge. That's our breakthrough."
The room pulsed with a sudden sense of urgency and purpose.
Renya, still processing, asked, "Is the budget even enough for that?" her tone laced with worry.
Paul raised one hand to his chin in thought, then said, "If we sell part of the production to external buyers, we should break even. Maybe more. We'll be producing faster and cheaper than anyone else."
Renya nodded slowly, the gears in her mind turning. "Alright. I'll report this to Krüger. He needs to know about the weapons situation."
Hearing the name Krüger but not Brunhild, Paul suddenly perked up.
"Oh—has the signal tower device been installed in the capital?" he asked excitedly, turning toward Renya.
Renya gave a small nod, her expression calm but proud. "Yes. Last night, Krüger received a call from Brunhild. It seems the installation's finished—he said the voice came through clearly. No breaks at all."
Paul nodded, visibly pleased. "Good. That'll make things easier."
He then turned his gaze toward the assembled maids. "Alright—anything else you need to ask?" he asked casually.
The maids all shook their heads.
"Okay then," Paul said, gesturing with a wave of his hand. "Continue your work."
At his command, the maids all straightened up, saluted sharply, and dispersed, heading back to their respective duties with new determination.
Once the room had quieted, and only Renya, Liora, and Paul remained, he turned his eyes to the window. Dusk had started to settle in.
"It's getting dark," Paul murmured. Then, looking at Liora, he asked in a puzzled tone, "Liora… aren't you going home?"
Liora blinked, then looked outside as if just realizing the time. "Oh—no, I mean… I should—" she stammered, already turning to rush off.
"Wait!" Paul called out, stopping her in her tracks.
As Liora turned back to him, surprised, Paul shifted his gaze to Renya. "Renya, take Liora home safely. And call Gunther for escort," he said with quiet authority.
Renya gave a sharp nod. "Understood, Prince." She saluted, then turned and headed toward the back hallway, calling over her shoulder, "Come on, Liora."
Liora straightened, gave a quick salute to Paul, and hurried after Renya, her footsteps echoing lightly behind her.
Once they were gone, Paul let out a breath and returned to his desk. He pulled out another blank sheet of paper, staring at it for a long moment before murmuring to himself:
"Mechanical horse, motorbike, or car… which one first, huh…" He frowned slightly, clearly undecided.
Glancing out the window again, watching the last of the daylight fade, Paul added, "It seems like we'll need a hangar... and an aircraft factory, too," his voice drifting with thoughtful uncertainty.