The hilltop where the Weissen family castle stood was nearly a hundred meters above the city below. From the main tower's arrow turret, the entire city and the surrounding area lay in full view.
On the towers along the castle's walls, besides the patrolling soldiers, several Night Watch members were stationed around the perimeter, keeping an eye on the city. At the first sign of a fire, they would sound the horn.
The city's nighttime appearance had changed over the past few days. Magic streetlamps had been installed along several main roads. It wasn't exactly bright as day, but people could make out the road and the faces of passersby nearby.
The lamps had been sponsored by a scholar from Weissenburg University and his students. Frederick hadn't spent a single coin on materials or labor; it was essentially paid advertising.
These Magic Lamps looked like candles, with a glowing magic array inside the flame-shaped top. A magic array in the cylinder below absorbed the surrounding magical elements. When activated, the "flame" lit up, and the lamp absorbed energy automatically when idle, requiring no additional power source.
The magic array's base was a cast-iron tube with grooves for the array. After the grooves were filled with a mana conductor, a layer of tin alloy was cast over it. Once polished, it shone like silver, looked beautiful, and could withstand low temperatures.
The materials for these Magic Lamps were cheap, and the magic array wasn't particularly advanced. They retailed for two Kreuzer silver coins, equivalent to a hundred kilograms of wheat or twelve kilograms of animal-fat candles. One lamp could last for many years, making it affordable even for ordinary families.
Some cargo ships had even bought a crate of them to mount around their hulls as warning lights. Others had joined several together and added a reflector to make a searchlight.
However, these Magic Lamps had proprietary core technology. The toggle switch on the household model wasn't anything special, but the materials and process used to make the matchstick-sized Photosensitive Magic Resistor at the tip of the "flame" were a secret. It was what allowed the streetlamps to switch on and off automatically.
Frederick welcomed this kind of "high-tech industry." He not only had the carpenters' shop charge cost price for producing the lamp posts, but also became the first customer to buy the products. He even waived five years of rent when they leased land to build a workshop.
With the first trailblazer setting an example, many people at Weissenburg University had begun to wonder if they could make money from the technologies they were working on.
That evening, after practicing his martial skills and taking a bath, Frederick brought his drawing board and supplies to the highest arrow turret in the castle. From there, he could see the entire city.
A Magic Lamp was mounted on the turret wall. He flipped the switch to turn it on, then stood by the battlements and sketched the city below, its streets divided into patches by the lamplight, onto parchment.
After some time, Frederick caught the scent of soap.
Psyche came up behind him and bent over to study the parchment. "What are you drawing this for?" she asked curiously.
"To divide the city into districts," Frederick said as he drew. "Each neighborhood will be marked with a different color and number. If there's a fire, we'll light the corresponding color and number of lamps on the city walls, so everyone in the city will know where it is."
"Heh..." Psyche chuckled. "You said you could color every pair of neighboring districts differently using only a few colors?"
A vein nearly popped on Frederick's forehead.
"I'm only planning to use red, yellow, green, and blue, coloring the districts within a 90-degree range," he said. "The other colors won't stand out as much."
"How boring." Psyche reached out and ruffled his hair.
She went over to the battlements and sat on them. Pulling the hairpin from her bun, she let her long brown hair fall like a waterfall. The evening breeze caught it, carrying a faint scent of plants.
The arrow turret was quiet, save for the scratch of the quill against parchment and the distant footsteps of soldiers patrolling the walls.
After some time, Frederick finished sketching the area in front of him and moved to the next battlement. There, he found Psyche's lovely silhouette in the moonlight.
She wore an utterly ordinary dress, straight-cut and cinched at the waist with a cheap colored cord. She sat sideways on the battlement, her legs bent and one hand resting on her knee. Her body turned slightly outward as she raised her head to gaze at the vast, starry sky.
"Am I pretty?" Psyche suddenly asked.
"You're in my way," Frederick replied.
At his height, she blocked his entire view.
"Hmph..." Psyche said scornfully. "A cow eating peonies."
"What?" Frederick raised an eyebrow. "Want me to hit on you?"
Psyche gave a couple of "hee-hee" laughs, then said in a seductive voice, "You could try."
Frederick took a step back and pretended to make a phone call. "Hello, is this 999?"
For the first time, Psyche reacted to something from another world, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.
After the joke, Frederick went to the battlement on the other side and started drawing from that direction.
Once he'd finished half of the neighborhood in front of him, Psyche asked, "What are you planning to do in the future?"
"Make money and marry a beautiful wife," Frederick replied.
"That's it?" Psyche didn't believe him.
Frederick added, "A career and love."
"That's the same thing." Psyche pursed her lips, then asked, "So what kind of woman do you think is beautiful?"
"There's no fixed standard," Frederick replied. "I'll know when I see her."
Psyche's eyes shifted, and she smiled. "Want me to introduce you to someone?"
Frederick replied in a flat voice, "Ah, I wish you were introducing yourself."
Psyche stared at him, exasperated. "What, you don't think I'm pretty?"
Frederick said solemnly, "My pelvis couldn't handle it."
"Of course," he continued. "If you can tell me why I shouldn't collect rags and old ropes, I'll reluctantly make the sacrifice."
"Hmph..." Psyche asked, "Am I really not attractive to you at all?"
Frederick answered earnestly, "I know my own limits."
"What a boring guy." Psyche shook her head. As she spoke, her arm stretched nearly ten meters across the arrow turret and ruffled Frederick's hair.
Frederick remained composed. He wouldn't have been surprised if Psyche had told him she was a slime that had gained sentience.
"What about you?" Frederick asked. "Do you have any goals or anything like that?"
Psyche merely sighed and said softly, "Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand."
"How can you be sure I wouldn't understand if you don't tell me?"
Psyche only smiled. "We can talk about it after you figure out the problem with magical elements."
Then she changed the subject. "Think carefully about what Aumert said today. There's something in there you'll definitely find interesting."
Frederick didn't follow up on that. They hadn't known each other long, but his instincts told him that Psyche was acting strangely tonight. She usually didn't talk this much.
"You're acting a little strange tonight," Frederick asked outright. "Did something happen?"
Psyche was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and looked up at the night sky. "Nothing. I just suddenly remembered that today is sort of my birthday."
This time, it was Frederick's turn to freeze. Then he packed up his things and went down from the arrow turret.
Psyche listened to his footsteps fading away. Her expression didn't change.
Perhaps it had simply been too long since she'd met someone with something in common with her. Talking to him had made her feel as though she'd returned to those carefree days of the past. And remembering those times today had made her a little more talkative.
As for Frederick, she didn't have any special feelings for him.
Their lifespans weren't even in the same dimension. By the time the wind blew over his grave and cattle grazed there, she'd still be full of life.
Psyche gazed at the stars, remembering how, on her sixty-fourth birthday, her father, already a hundred years old, lay in bed and ordered takeout to buy her a birthday cake one last time. No matter how many sunrises and sunsets had passed, that moment remained etched deep in her soul.
"Thud, thud, thud..."
A hurried set of footsteps came from the stairwell and paused just before reaching the top level.
Frederick lit a candle before climbing the last steps. Carrying a tray, he walked over to Psyche with a cheerful smile. "How could you not tell me something so important earlier? This is the best I could manage on short notice... Uh... have you been crying?"
He was surprised to see Psyche's eyes slightly red, with two trails of tears running down her face and dripping from her chin onto her collar.
"The wind was too strong just now," Psyche said, forcing a smile. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "Some sand got in my eyes."
Frederick said, "Oh." Whatever she said, he'd go along with it.
Psyche looked at the tray in Frederick's hands. On it lay an exquisite gold plate and a set of gold cutlery. The plate held a fist-sized, hemispherical pastry, coated with a layer of cream that was white with a faint yellow tint. A beeswax candle, about the size of her little finger, stood on top.
"So, in your eyes, I'm only one year old?" Psyche deliberately pouted.
Frederick smiled. "The Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, and three gives birth to all things—"
Psyche gave him a fierce glare, and he promptly shut his mouth.
Psyche jumped down from the battlement and blew out the candle. She took the tray and set it where she'd been sitting, then picked up the knife and fork and cut off a piece of the cream...
"Uh..."
Even after experiencing such a long life, she'd never seen such a wondrous thing before.
Frederick scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. "The only thing left in the kitchen is steamed buns kept warm in the steamer. At least there's some cream, so this will have to do."
Psyche put the birthday bun in her mouth, and a genuine smile spread across her face. As she ate, she said, "Thank you."
Frederick smiled. "As long as you're happy."
Psyche hummed an unfamiliar tune as she finished her birthday bun.
She set down the knife and fork, licked her lips, then turned around and lifted Frederick by his armpits with both hands.
"This is your return gift." A sly smile appeared on Psyche's face.
Frederick realized that her face was moving closer and closer to his.
Psyche lowered her head until their foreheads touched, then said softly, "Relax. It's just a simple Soul Magic spell called 'Soul Copy-Paste.'"
As soon as she finished speaking, Frederick suddenly felt his head swell, as though something were being forcibly stuffed into his brain.
Just before he passed out, he thought he heard something like "wabby wabbo."
Before you continue