The trip back to the duchy was far quieter than our journey north.
Perhaps it was because everyone was tired.
Or maybe it was because we'd all grown comfortable enough with one another that silence no longer felt awkward.
I spent most of the ride staring out the carriage window, watching forests and rolling fields pass by while mentally sketching ideas for future inventions.
Every now and then, I'd pull out a notebook and scribble down another design before crossing half of it out moments later.
"No..."
"Too complicated."
A page later...
"No, that would need a better mana source."
Then another.
"Maybe later."
By the time the familiar walls of our estate finally came into view, nearly half the notebook had been filled with ideas ranging from practical to completely absurd.
Luka leaned over to glance at one of the pages.
"...Is that a flying carriage?"
I quickly shut the notebook.
"No."
"It definitely looked like a flying carriage."
"It was..."
I cleared my throat.
"...A theoretical flying carriage."
Celest smiled.
"That's somehow more concerning."
The carriage rolled through the gates.
Almost immediately, the familiar sight of servants tending gardens, knights training in the courtyard, and maids bustling through the estate welcomed us home.
It felt...
Comfortable.
Without realizing it, this place had stopped feeling like someone else's home.
It was mine too.
The head butler bowed as we stepped from the carriage.
"Welcome home, Your Grace."
Then he looked toward me.
"Welcome home, Young Master Adam."
A small smile tugged at my lips.
"...It's good to be back."
The next several weeks passed peacefully.
Luka resumed training the duchy's knights.
Celest continued teaching me magic each morning.
Bradly buried himself beneath mountains of paperwork that somehow never seemed to shrink.
As for me...
I practically lived inside my workshop.
The tuxedo had proven something important.
I could actually create the things I imagined.
That realization changed everything.
Ideas I'd once dismissed as impossible suddenly became projects waiting to happen.
The workshop slowly filled with strange creations.
A mana-powered lantern that burned without fuel.
An adjustable wrench capable of changing its own size.
A self-heating kettle.
A mechanical quill that copied handwriting.
Some inventions succeeded.
Others...
Exploded.
Fortunately, only a few exploded.
Probably.
I decided not to count the smoking workbench.
One evening, while organizing my notes, my eyes drifted toward an old sketch I'd drawn days earlier.
A sword.
Except...
Not really.
I tapped the page with my pencil.
"Steel has limits."
No matter how well a sword was forged, it still dulled.
It could chip.
Break.
Rust.
What if...
The blade itself wasn't metal?
I immediately pulled another sheet of paper toward me.
Instead of a conventional blade, I sketched a cylindrical hilt.
Inside it...
A mana crystal.
Around that...
A series of focusing runes.
Not to launch mana.
To contain it.
I frowned thoughtfully.
"What if the crystal continuously fed mana into a compression array..."
The pencil raced across the paper.
"...then narrowed the output through a stabilization rune..."
More lines.
"...before finally forcing it through a projection matrix..."
A grin slowly spread across my face.
The result wasn't a spell.
It wasn't a sword either.
It was something in between.
A weapon whose blade consisted entirely of condensed mana.
Unlike a normal sword, it would never dull.
Never rust.
Never need sharpening.
Even better...
The blade itself wouldn't be tied to any single spell.
The mana crystal merely supplied power.
The wielder would shape the mana into the form they wanted.
Fire.
Lightning.
Ice.
Wind.
Earth.
Any spell, any element.
The focusing runes would simply force that mana into the shape of a blade.
I stared at the completed blueprint.
"...That..."
"...is either the coolest thing I've ever designed..."
"...or the fastest way to accidentally remove my own arm."
After thinking about it for another thirty seconds...
I smiled.
"There is only one way to find out."
The next morning, the forge inside my workshop roared back to life.
Another project had begun.