Chapter 1014: The Day of Adulthood
Neverwinter was preparing for a coronation.
Having released the news to the kingdom, Roland handed the entire ceremony to Barov and stepped back. The City Hall Director threw himself into the work with the devotion of a man who believed that perfection was not a goal but a minimum standard—he even summoned Blanche, the ceremonial officer, up from the old king’s city to assist him.
Roland, meanwhile, returned to the internal combustion engine.
He had been living between the castle office and the north slope backyard, checking progress on the magic movie, then returning to the design problems that kept surfacing. The fractional distillation process produced oil of variable quality, which forced him into redundancy design. Without computer simulation there was no shortcut—only the cycle: build a prototype, run the stability tests, improve it or scrap it. He had been doing this for weeks, and he found he didn’t mind. The forgotten knowledge was returning—the actual texture of it, not the surface memory of having once learned it.
Anna was at his side through most of it.
She attacked precision components with an absorption that seemed to use her entire body. Even when she paused to wipe sweat from the tip of her nose, her eyes never left the work. He found himself watching her more than the prototype—the specific angle of her concentration, the way she moved with an assurance that was purely her own.
Her thirst for creation ran as deep as the Blackfire itself.
Whenever they made progress she smiled with a brightness that had nothing to do with being queen or wife or anything with a title. She had said as much: as long as they could stay together, the title didn’t matter to her.
Roland still wanted to give her the title. Not because it changed anything between them, but because certain things needed to be said aloud in front of witnesses. A commitment expressed was different from one merely felt.
He put down the quill and rolled his neck, feeling the soreness spread.
If the dimensions held this time, the design was finished. The last batch of prototypes had run stably long enough to satisfy the city’s current needs.
Internal combustion engines were not structurally foreign to the steam engine—the real difference was what they contained. A steam engine needed external equipment: boiler, pipe, the inevitable energy lost to transportation. An internal combustion engine put the fuel inside the cylinder directly. All the heat generated drove the piston. Nothing was wasted to distance.
The process sounded simple. The execution was not. The air-and-fuel mixture burned violently inside the cylinder; as the air expanded with heat it drove the piston down; as pressure fell, the cylinder drew in fresh fuel. The catch was sealing. In an early steam engine you could practically push a finger through the gap between piston and cylinder wall, and felt or linen could plug it adequately. That gap would destroy an internal combustion engine—one leak and the thing stopped.
It was the sealing requirement that had pushed internal combustion engines to come decades after electric motors in his previous world.
He had two designs working in parallel: a cylinder-in-line configuration, heavy cast iron, slow and stable, suited to factories; and a radial arrangement—the star engine—with shorter crankshafts, compact, built from aluminum alloy. Only Anna could process those components at the tolerances required. The star engine was for aircraft.
He was also, privately, hurrying. The Senior Demon’s words from the last expedition had not left him. Ground-based firearms alone were not enough. Whatever came from the sky could not be answered from the ground. If the design held, mankind in this world would, for the first time, have an air force capable of fighting back.
“Your Majesty—don’t move.”
Nightingale’s voice. He froze.
A moment passed. He felt a brief sharp sting at his scalp as she plucked something free.
“A white hair?” He turned carefully, caught between wanting to laugh and not wanting to find out she was serious.
The hair in her fingers was dry, without any luster from root to tip. His hair was light grey by nature, but she had found it anyway.
“There’s more.” She was already searching. “Have you been sleeping poorly?”
“Have I?”
“You used to sleep late in winter. Lately you’re up before me. And the Dream World isn’t real sleep, is it? You’ve been yawning.” She spoke without drama, just observation. “White hairs in your twenties. That’s not a good sign.”
He looked at her. The weariness he’d been managing quietly fell back a little simply from being seen—not because anything had changed, but because someone was paying attention. She cared about him as steadily as she always had. His coming marriage had not altered anything between them. He suspected the agreement she and Anna had reached was responsible for that, though he had never asked.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I haven’t reached my limit.”
”…” She studied him. Whatever she found there, she accepted it. “How do you know when you have?”
“I get a palpitation. A sensation of emptiness in the chest. After that I feel weak, start coughing—sometimes blood—”
He coughed. Violently. Mid-sentence.
Nightingale was on her feet immediately, hand at his back. “Are you all right? Should I get Nana?”
He breathed. “No—I choked on my own saliva.”
“Really.”
“I’m fine, I—”
He turned and stopped. She was much closer than he had registered. They looked at each other. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.
The office door opened.
“Your Majesty.” Wendy walked in with a record book, took in whatever was happening, and paused. “What are you doing?”
Roland blinked and found that Nightingale had already crossed the room to the couch, where she was lying with a piece of dried fish, expression entirely innocent.
He was bent backward at an improbable angle with both hands behind his head.
“His Majesty is practicing gymnastics,” Nightingale said. “He’s been in his chair too long. So he decided to try the new exercises first.”
“I see.” Wendy looked at his posture with genuine uncertainty. “Is this the gymnastics you wanted to promote in the schools? Do you think… this particular pose works?”
“It does.” He straightened slowly. “Trust me.” He could see Nightingale’s shoulders shaking with the effort of not laughing. “Well—what did you want to tell me?”
Wendy opened the record book. “Your Majesty,” she said, “according to our records from last year—today is Lightning’s Day of Adulthood.”
Chapter 1014: The Day of Adulthood
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Neverwinter was busy preparing for Roland’s coronation ceremony.
After releasing the news, the king left the whole thing to Barov. The City Hall Director devoted himself entirely to the preparation job and strived for perfection in every detail. He even fetched Blanche, the ceremonial officer, from the old king’s city to assist him.
As for Roland, apart from occasionally checking the progress of the magic movie, he spent most of his time on the final design of the internal combustion engine.
Because of the difference in measurement systems between the current world and his previous world, he needed to conduct a stability test for each prototype he made to make sure that his design was accurate. Furthermore, since the quality of the oil separated by the fractional process was very unstable, he had to adopt a redundancy design method. Without computer simulation techniques, he had to adjust the prototypes repeatedly.
He created a prototype, tested it and then improved it or scrapped it. He repeated this process again and again, which made him feel as if he had returned to his schooling days. He rushed about between the castle and the north slope backyard every day, living a busy and full life. The knowledge that he had forgotten a long time ago became vivid in his head once more.
Unlike his schooling days, this time he had a great companion, Anna.
She was as enthusiastic about new things as he was.
She was so absorbed in assembling the precision components. Even when she stopped to wipe the sweat from her nose, she would still have her eyes fixed on what she was working on. Seeing this, Roland felt amazed. He found that her thirst for knowledge and creation was as strong as her Blackfire.
And he thought she looked exceptionally attractive when she was so earnest in bringing to life her creations.
Whenever they made a progress, Anna would smile so brightly that Roland would believe nothing, not even becoming the queen of Graycastle, could make her that happy.
She had expressed such a thought before. As long as they could stay together, she would not care about the title.
However, Roland still wanted to give her the title as a way of externalizing his commitment to her.
After all, this was a common practice in human society.
After revising the dimensions of the engine, he put down the quill and rubbed his sore neck.
If nothing else, the design could be finalized this time. The last batch of prototypes had run stably for a reasonable period of time. It had only been a few days but was already enough to meet the current needs of the city.
Internal combustion engines, the second-generation power source, worked much more efficiently than steam engines, but in terms of structure, the former were not very different from the latter, except that the latter needed some external equipment such as a boiler and a steam transport pipe. No matter how well-designed a steam engine was, it could not prevent the energy loss caused by the transportation of steam. An internal combustion, however, contained the fuel inside its cylinder. In this way, all the heat generated by the fuel could be used to push the piston.
The mixture of oil and air would burn violently inside the cylinder. When the air became hot, its volume would increase rapidly to drive the piston.
Meanwhile, the air pressure inside the cylinder would fall and thus fresh fuel would be sucked into the cylinder. It sounded like a simple process but it was not an easy project. For example, it had a brand new requirement, the sealing. In an early steam engine, one could easily insert a finger into the gap between the piston and the cylinder wall, and both felt and linen could be used to block the gap. However, such a gap would never be allowed in an internal combustion engine.
This was because it was powered by the fuel inside itself. Once its cylinder had a leak, it would stop working.
Given the high demand for material and manufacturing technology, internal combustion engines came several decades after the electric motors in the previous world where Roland had lived.
Roland had two designs for the first-generation internal combustion engines: cylinder-in-line and cylinder-in-circle. The former one was cumbersome and made of cast iron. It was stable and suitable for the factories. The latter was also known as a star engine. It had shorter crankshafts and a compact structure, so it was smaller in size and very suitable for aircraft. As it was made of aluminum alloy, only Anna could process this delicate engine for now.
Now that he could consult a large number of reference material in the Dream World, he developed these two types of engines at the same time. Compared to the tortuous experience of manufacturing the steam engines, this time, his design job was much easier.
The Senior Demon’s words were another reason for him to speed up the engine development process.
This expedition had already proved that it was hard to rely solely on the ground-to-air firearms to resist all the attacks from the sky.
If his plan could be realized, for the first time ever, mankind in this world would have an air force that could contest with the demons riding flying mounts.
“Your Majesty, don’t move.”
Nightingale suddenly spoke.
Roland immediately froze up and moved his eyes to look back.
Is there…an enemy?
Soon he saw Nightingale approach and reach her hand into his hair, and then he felt a little pain from his head. It turned out that she had just plucked off a hair.
“Ugh, is it a white hair?” Roland did not know whether to laugh or cry.
Since his hair color was light gray, a white hair should not be very conspicuous on his head. But Nightingale could easily recognize this white hair because it was dry and lost all its luster from its root.
“And there’s more on your head.” Nightingale continued to search inside his hair for a while. “Have you been having trouble sleeping recently?”
“Have I?”
“You used to sleep late in the winter, but recently you’ve been getting up earlier than me every day. At night, you have to enter the Dream World to study. That isn’t really sleeping, is it?” Nightingale said. “You’ve yawned a lot recently, which means you are very tired. You are getting white hair in your twenties. That’s not a good sign.”
Roland felt very relieved looking at her even to the point that his workinduced weariness faded. She still cared about him as much as she did previously and his coming marriage did not affect her very much. Roland guessed that it must have had something to do with the agreement between Anna and her.
“Don’t worry. I’ve not reached my limit yet. I’ve experienced it before.”
“…” Nightingale looked puzzled, but apparently she could tell that it was not a lie.
Roland did tell her the truth. “Generally speaking, when I reach my limit, I’ll have a palpitation and feel as if my chest is empty. After that, I need to be extra careful since I’ll feel weak and sometimes, I’ll start coughing a lot and even cough blood—ahem—”
Halfway through the speech, he suddenly coughed violently.
“Hey, are you alright?” Nightingale got nervous and patted his back. “Do you need me to fetch Nana for you?”
Roland took a deep breath. “No… I’m fine. I just choked on my saliva.”
“Really?”
“Relax, I—”
He turned around and stiffened with embarrassment at once. He was surprised to find that Nightingale was so close to him at this moment. They looked into each other’s eyes and simultaneously held their breath.
“Your Majesty.” Just at this moment, Wendy opened the door and walked into the office. “I need to tell you something… Uh? What are you doing?”
“What?” Roland blinked only to find that Nightingale had already disappeared. Now, he was bending backwards while holding his head back, which was a really weird-looking posture.
“His Majesty is practicing gymnastics,” said Nightingale, who was lying on the couch beside the tea table and chewing her dried fish leisurely. “He’s been in his chair for a long time and got sore, so he decided to be the first to try his gymnastics.”
“Oh, I see,” Wendy said thoughtfully. “Is this the gymnastics you wanted to promote in the school? But… do you really think that such a strange pose will work?”
“Ugh, it works. Trust me.” Roland returned to a normal sitting position. He felt that Nightingale, who was acting innocent, was trying her best to hold back laughter. “Well, what did you want to tell me?”
“Your Majesty,” said Wendy, while leafing through the record book in her hand. “According to the records of the previous year, today is Lightning’s Day of Adulthood.”