Became the Villainess’s Guardian

-Whirrr! Zzzzing!

Accompanied by the whirring of a running motor, the wheels spun and scratched against the ground.
A compact, boxy vehicle with a plump appearance glided smoothly along the street.

The object rolling before my eyes was Ceres Martop’s proudly unveiled first automobile model, meticulously crafted from the engine to the chassis.

While carriages still occupied half the city’s spacious roads, even a cursory investigation into the trend would have revealed their numbers would soon be surpassed.

Certainly, competing martops still existed. But Ceres Martop was no insignificant upstart.
Though its history spanned only a decade – a mere blink compared to the venerable legacies of other martops – its recent accomplishments had been extraordinary.

Innovative inventions like air conditioning, introducing a novel world hitherto unexperienced by humanity.
Yet they also possessed a warmth that prioritized giving back to society over solely pursuing profits. The most formidable adversary, impervious to attacks from competing martops or the media alike.

After observing this spectacle alongside me for a while, an employee remarked,

“While the exact sales figures will require some time, this seems like a success.”

“But we mustn’t stop here.”

A veritable mountain of tasks remained.
Or rather, this was the juncture where time constraints necessitated focus and prioritization.

Turning my gaze, I watched the employees testing the new automobiles in the vacant lot before the martop, Freyja’s enthusiasm evident among them.

“Oh, it’s accelerating well! Accelerating!”

“It seems the issue lay with pipe number four after all. We may need to adjust the purities of the marestones used, but this was a meaningful achievement.”

“Well, I’m relieved it seems to be working properly. Though we may be approaching a wall here – how does one stop this thing?”

“Ah, that. You pull the brake, but… Did we install one?”

“Uh, we temporarily removed it, as it was interfering with the battery connections.”

“Uwaaahh!!”

-Craaash!

While not particularly swift, this automobile – with its sturdy chassis unlike those already marketed – stubbornly plowed through a brick wall in its path, undeterred.
The steel juggernaut’s charge towards the neighboring martop was only halted when a frantically dashing employee successfully immobilized it through an improvised anti-tank stake technique.

-Screeeeech!!

“A fortunate save. Stabbing the rear engine compartment does stop it, but had there been an armored plate, we’d have been out of options.”

“Ughh, huff. I thought I was done for……”

“So how was the ride quality? Or did you notice any other areas for improvement?”

“We need to address the instability around curves. The steering became unresponsive at times, and that infernal brake! Please, for the love of all, install a brake.”

“Valuable feedback duly noted. Well done.”

The mere ability to continuously unveil such novel products was a testament to the brilliant future awaiting the martop.
However, the employee beside me wore a troubled expression. Unsurprisingly, after fidgeting anxiously, he inquired,

“Edan, might I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are the rumors I’ve heard true? Is war between this kingdom, humanity, and the Demonic Tribe truly imminent?”

“It seems the talk has spread further than anticipated.”

Ever since the Demonic Tribe’s apprehension in Londinium, ominous rumors had pervaded the city.

That the Demonic Tribe still lurked in the slums and rural areas, biding their time to regain their strength.
That Parliament had fallen under Demonic Tribe influence, with the police as their accomplices, releasing captured members.
And as this employee mentioned, the imminent outbreak of war.

“The Metropolitan Police Department even posted notices urging people not to blindly believe such rumors. One was plastered right in front of my house.”

“But why are we leaving space to mount weapons like cannons on the automobiles we manufacture? And instead of making them lighter, we’re reinforcing them with steel plating.”

“……”

“Ceres Martop may have officially received government automobile contracts, but that cannot be the entire story.”

The government had declared that disseminating falsehoods could be treated as a criminal offense for inciting unrest, with figures like Superintendent Baldor repeatedly emphasizing through media interviews that all was well.

However, human psychology was inherently more susceptible to pessimism than optimism.
And some of these circulating rumors were not entirely unfounded – the part about war, in particular, rang true.

Those privy to power and classified information were already aware.
Even the uninformed harbored a degree of suspicion, however faint.

“But it wouldn’t hurt to prepare for contingencies, would it?”

“I suppose not.”

“And who knows? If we grow stronger, the Demonic Tribe might think twice before provoking us.”

Naturally, I did not share such beliefs.
Perhaps an oblivious, ordinary magician could cling to that sliver of hope for peace.

The employee soon departed upon hearing his name called.
The vacant space beside me was then occupied by Freyja, who had instructed the wall’s repair before taking a break.

After briefly regarding me, she inquired,

“Did you just discuss something? Any newfound issues or defects?”

“No. It’s just… the atmosphere lately has been rather ominous.”

“Indeed. Though the prospect that some of it may be true is even more unsettling.”

As someone of Freyja’s standing, she was aware of the interrogation results from the apprehended Demonic Tribe members.

One of the government contracts I had secured through my privileges was as follows:

‘Production of a conveyance capable of transporting large numbers of personnel in emergencies.’
‘Preferably equipped with functionality to withstand external impacts from firearms and the like.’
‘Ideally, able to traverse rugged terrain ravaged by artillery fire.’

An outright advertisement proclaiming, ‘We are preparing for war.’
While unstated directly, Parliament had been squeezing every last coin to allocate funds.
Thus, as one with a city to protect, Freyja could only diligently proceed. And I too had resolved issues through personal expenditures instead of tedious administrative procedures whenever problems arose elsewhere.

“Still, the notion that Parliament had been infiltrated by the Demonic Tribe seemed a stretch, even if it did subside quickly. There were also rumors that Ceres Martop was complicit, by virtue of securing those government contracts.”

“Such conspiracy theories hold no credibility, as we well know.”

After stretching languidly, Freyja seemed to recall something and clapped her hands, saying,

“Ah, come to think of it, there was another peculiar rumor circulating.”

“What about?”

“That this entire situation is unfolding according to someone’s grand scheme.”

“Isn’t that just the current trend of attributing every incident to the Demonic Tribe’s machinations?”

Freyja shook her head.

“No, this was somewhat different. Supposedly, a single human has seized complete control over the city’s economy and Parliament, meticulously orchestrating events.”

“…Like a shadowy puppet master?”

“Precisely. Though it seems to lack any substantial evidence.”

A shadowy puppet master.
While the long-unheard term stirred some recollection, I swiftly dismissed the possibility.

By now, Freugne would likely be lazing about at home during her break.
Had such conspiracy theories not proliferated since my previous life? Illuminati and the like.

“Well, enough idle speculation. Let us discuss something more constructive.”

“I’ve secured a train bound for the Belfast Republic in two weeks’ time. Ah, but we’ll need to process some documentation for entry.”

“Is that so? Then feel free to call it an early day.”

I boarded a carriage to return home and make personal preparations.
Ordinarily, I would have walked, but I had matters to ponder and wished to experience a martop product.

‘…What to do about Freugne in the meantime.’

As Freyja had mentioned, I should assign someone to look after any potential issues arising in my absence.
While Professor Magni was trustworthy, his busy schedule left few viable alternatives.

Come to think of it, she was already 18 years old.
Seeing her face daily had caused me to overlook that fact. With this year nearly concluded, her next birthday loomed.

“She has matured considerably,” I muttered softly.

Putting aside legal technicalities, she had already reached an age where she could fend for herself as an individual.
Perhaps too soon to establish her own household, but not so immature that I needed to personally attend to her.

Even if left alone in Londinium, it would not be a matter of years before my return – at most, half a year’s duration.

‘Still, I cannot help but worry.’

And yet, no matter how cognizant I was of these realities,
such lingering parental concern was inevitable, was it not?

Perhaps having her accompany me could be an option, in addition to this official duty.

After paying the driver, I disembarked at my destination. Whoever had crafted it, the ride quality was indeed impressive.

-Creak.

“Freugne?”

“……”

However, the house was devoid of the young lady’s presence.
Assuming she had merely stepped out since she typically greeted me unprompted, I decided to review the documents Freyja had provided.

It was not until the sky had taken on a crimson hue that I heard movement at the entrance and lifted my gaze.
Having removed her outer garments, Freugne tilted her head inquisitively as she asked,

“You’re home early today?”

“Yes. There’s an important matter I need to discuss with you.”

“Important? Could it be… No, never mind. I’m not mentally prepared yet.”

For reasons unclear, Freugne faltered in her words.
I proceeded to inform her of the hastily decided arrangement from three days prior.

“I intend to travel to the Belfast Republic for a few months.”

“Ah, for work?”

“Correct. And regarding your living situation while I’m away…”

I briefly paused.

While I had contemplated this during Freugne’s outing, I ultimately felt this presented an opportune chance for her to accompany me.

A means to uphold an old promise, of sorts.

“Would you perhaps like to join me?”