"Isn’t that a bit inappropriate?" Bart blurted out at first.

"How is it inappropriate? It’s not like Female Mages are rare."

"Well, but very few of them start families... I’d rather respect Milly’s wishes. This is all too sudden." Bart, taken aback by Rorschach’s retort, still deferred the choice to the person in question.

Rorschach explained, "It’s not about being a legal representative. With Fanta’s rapid expansion, we need one of our own people who has a voice in the Duma River Trade Alliance. Mr. Pierre and the other Valois people have already returned to their country, and I’ll be leaving Bayern soon too.

"Hasse and the people he’s promoted are ultimately rooted in the Balderom Chamber of Commerce. In my opinion, that’s not appropriate, and the Alliance might not accept it either."

"I’m the young master of a Chamber of Commerce, yet you think Amelia is a better fit?"

Rorschach shook his head. "If she were only your wife, I certainly wouldn’t have invited her. But Princess Amelia is also a princess of the Bayern Kingdom. I imagine Prince Otto would be pleased to see this, and it aligns with the cooperative spirit we established from the start."

Only after spending some time in Bayern did Rorschach gradually come to understand the rules. Fanta, just with its bottle manufacturing plant, had already swallowed up the original Glass Guild. Combined with the successful marketing during the wedding celebration, its scale had become too large for the Trade Alliance to ignore.

Fanta was now invited to participate in the Alliance’s general meetings, though still in a capacity similar to an observer. Rorschach didn’t need the representative to act on his will, but he absolutely could not allow someone from the Balderom Chamber of Commerce to take the spot and simply add to its vote count.

Amelia seemed eager to try but said honestly, "But I have no relevant experience... I wouldn’t be able to handle the work involved."

"No, you are a Princess of Bayern. That fact alone is your best qualification. It will be incredibly useful when communicating with the company and the Alliance members. You can also train your own assistants and secretaries. As for ability..."

Rorschach mercilessly used his friend as an example. "Knowing Magic is, of course, a prerequisite for becoming a Town Mage, but it’s certainly not the main reason that Bart, with his so-so talent for Casting, became the Town Mage of Bayern’s second-largest city.

"Am I right, young master of the Balderom Chamber of Commerce?"

"What are you talking about? I’m very capable! Didn’t I learn Magic pretty fast?" Bart quickly changed the subject, having already made up his mind. "Amelia, I understand that your desire to run a winery also comes from not wanting to be idle. Perhaps Rorschach’s proposal is a better way to prove yourself."

Bart smiled at his beloved wife. "Show them that same fire you had when you slammed the table at us before the wedding! With Milly’s wisdom, you’ll definitely be able to handle the job in the future." His words made Amelia a little embarrassed, but she tentatively agreed to Rorschach’s proposal.

And so, the cunning merchant not only sold an expensive renovation plan to the small family of two, but also roped a new person into working for his factory.

Rorschach had another motive for this move. The Princess of the Bayern Kingdom would serve as a role model. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Currently, only workshops in industries like textiles and dyeing absorbed women from the rural and urban lower classes. Meanwhile, the well-read and sensible daughters of the Nobility and merchants were merely "buffs" that raised their price on the marriage market. At most, they could become housekeepers or etiquette and dance instructors.

’So much wasted labor! How can I tolerate this?’ With Princess Amelia as a shining example, it would become a matter of course for more literate and educated women to take on clerical and other similar jobs. At the very least, it would reduce the resistance to promoting it.

After Bart led Rorschach into the room, Rorschach completely upended the couple’s plans, yet the two of them cheerfully entertained the creator of this "terrible" idea. Bart put away the blueprints and insisted on giving Rorschach a tour.

The work was scheduled to start the next day. After making the arrangements, Bart reminded his friend, "The engineering team assigned by the Empire will be here soon."

The Town Mage and the Magic Guild were not part of the same system. The Empire Council had also deliberately avoided involving the Mason Brotherhood in the construction. Thus, it became obvious who was best suited to contract for such a project—

A mini-Airship appeared in the skies over Wertzburg. Its skin was made of thin wooden planks. The propellers stopped rotating once it reached the edge of the city, and equipment and a Dwarf engineering team were lowered down on ropes.

The one in the lead was dressed like a pilot. In addition to the goggles perched on his head, the foreman wore a crisp, black leather jacket. "Bart, my boy! It’s great that you came to your senses and chose the best design!"

"This is Jansen, the engineer in charge of the reconstruction," Bart said, making introductions. "And this is my good friend, Rorschach, a Middle Level Mage."

The Dwarf foreman strode (by their standards) over to Rorschach and extended a hand, sizing him up at the same time. "Bart, my boy, so there really is a Mage younger and better than you! Rorschach, my boy, which town are you the Town Mage for?"

Rorschach noticed that as Jansen walked, he had a straight-bladed Mountain-Cutting Knife tucked into his belt. ’A blade-wielding man in a leather jacket. No wonder his appraisal of the design was so precise,’ he thought.

He bent down slightly to shake his hand. "A pleasure, Mr. Jansen. I’m not a Town Mage. I just promised my friend I would design the tower’s Protective Array."

"Are you up to it, Rorschach my boy? Don’t mind me for being direct."

"I studied under Master Poincare at the Tower of Stars."

"Hmm... Never heard of him." Jansen tugged his beard, thought for a moment, then gave up. "’Master’ means you’re the student of a Great Mage, right? Then I’ll take your word for it. Just don’t blame me when you’re checking the circuits, Bart my boy."

The Dwarf engineering team was efficient. They got to work on-site immediately after arriving, first clearing away the earth, stones, and clumps of residual organic matter from the original location.

Since Bayern was in the Southern Empire, the local residents didn’t see Dwarves often. These comically energetic, immensely strong fellows who loved to chat loudly quickly attracted a crowd of onlookers.

To ensure safety and avoid disturbances, a barricade was put up around the construction site. It wasn’t made of sheet metal, but rather cloth hung from hemp ropes that was easy to slip in and out of. The foundation was intact, but the pillars were all broken. Rorschach offered to use his Stone Shaping Skill to fuse new stone with the broken remnants, which was a huge help.

But the Dwarves weren’t just about brute strength. Rorschach observed that when they cut building materials, a seemingly crude hammer strike would always produce a nearly perfect rectangular block. The fractures, for the most part, were perfectly straight. There was skill involved.

"Left, left, left... Argh, too far, too far! A little to the right." The Qilin Arm was one of Rorschach’s specialties; he alone was doing the work of three Dwarves operating the crane.

After finishing the task at hand, Rorschach shouted, "Hold on! Bart, Jansen!"

"What is it?" "What’s wrong, Rorschach my boy? You’re doing a good job."

Rorschach was covered in dust. He coughed out the dirt he had inhaled. "Two questions. First, how did I end up on grunt duty? Second, what are those Dwarves doing? They can’t be taking *this* much of a break!"

Bart and the foreman looked in the direction Rorschach was pointing. The idle onlookers had actually brought over tables and chairs to watch. Some Dwarves had slipped out of the barricade; one was arm-wrestling a local, while another was in a drinking contest with an old man who had a potbelly.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Amidst the cheers from both sides’ supporters, the Dwarf and his challenger each held a large tankard, GULP GULP GULP-ing down the "wheat juice" in a race to the bottom.

What a harmonious picture: Human-Dwarf friendship first, wheat beer second, and the competition third.

"PFFT—Hah!" The human was the first to finish. The Dwarf contestant followed right after. He wiped his large beard, which was white with foam, and said stubbornly,

"Doesn’t feel as... potent as our beer..."