Became the Villainess’s Guardian

All my ongoing projects were proceeding smoothly.

For the rail gun, the design had been completed. All that was left was to build it and fix any issues through trial and error. Although my mindset had reverted to childlike innocence, as a magician, I was still a magician. The honorable members of the Royal Academy, while encountering some minor hiccups, had succeeded in materializing their imaginations.

“Edan. If we make it a massive device that cannot move without rails like a railway cannon… It would be possible, but unless it’s a government-backed project, the time and cost would be too exorbitant.”

“What about a smaller scale version?”

“If we use magicians as the power source, miniaturization is viable. It would ultimately become exclusive to electromancers, but it’s not impossible.”

“That’s great. Then let’s proceed that way? Ah, but for that part of the design… surely not.”

“Yes, you’ve spotted it correctly. There’s a fatal flaw here. With our current level of magical research, a certain load must be passed back to the caster.”

“In other words, each time it’s fired, there’s a risk of losing anywhere from a finger to an entire forearm.”

“Lowering the output could solve that, but then firing a regular gun would be far more cost-effective. And others have already made guns, so there’s that.”

While I had co-conceived it, it really was an idiotic weapon.
We had simply listened to the naive ramblings of a fresh, young member and stubbornly clung to mere romanticism in creating it – naturally, it would turn out this way.

So my response was predetermined.

“Let’s make it immediately.”

“I knew you’d say that!”

And after giggling like schoolgirls based on our shared interests rather than ages, a slightly different scene unfolded when we went to the martop on weekdays.

“Edan, we’ve made a prototype.”

“Nice. Let’s give it a test run then.”

“Where shall we do it?”

“Just around the martop entrance. It’s still slow enough that there shouldn’t be any major issues. I’ve simply increased the durability blindly, so don’t worry about it breaking.”

And so the boldly commenced Ceres Martop Automobile (Agricultural Use) prototype went rolling… straight into a nearby general store.
While no one was injured, we could at least take solace in having invented the world’s first drive-through.

Moreover, we had succeeded in making it roll under the martop’s own power, a monumental first step.
Come to think of it, if automobiles became widespread, there might even be some demand for this.

But the prospect of actually opening a tea drive-through would have to wait.

Although I maintained an unperturbed demeanor when meeting others, one fact weighed heavily on my mind:

‘Does everyone besides me know something I don’t?’

If it had been a one-time occurrence, I wouldn’t have thought much of it.

“Four days from now, no matter what happens outside, do not leave your home.”

“There are three days remaining. I hope you do not witness it then.”

“I’m not sure what will happen either. So please take leave and wait safely at home.”

However, after being repeated six times over the following two days… didn’t that imply that something was about to happen, even if I didn’t know what?

Unable to fathom it despite my ultra HD 4K thought process, I decided to consult someone wiser than myself.

“-This has been happening for the past few days.”

“I see?”

After I had left, Professor Magni had hired a couple of assistants to work under him several times. But about a month ago, even with splitting his workload, they had deserted him.
Now left alone, the professor looked a bit haggard. Still, he somehow managed to teach classes, conduct experiments, and write papers at the university by himself.

While I had offloaded some tasks to the martop and Royal Academy, witnessing the rightful heir of electromancy single-handedly battling the Demon King after his party of magicians, porters, and thieves had all deserted him instilled a sense of humility in me.

“I had hoped my speculations were mistaken.”

“Instead of keeping it to yourself, do share with this disciple as well.”

Professor Magni lowered his voice.

“Try not to mention this to anyone if possible.”

“Understood.”

“It seems a major incident is about to unfold in Londinium. At best, it might end with protests or strikes, but considering the worst case, even a rebellion.”

“…Pardon?”

I was not yet prepared to hear such words so abruptly.

In this modern era where the word “regulation” was still unfamiliar, laws existed to resolve conflicts between people and maintain order. However, at this point, they were more often created in response to thinking, “This could spark a rebellion,” rather than as a preventive measure.
Alternatively, they were made after a rebellion had already occurred and brought suffering, instilling the conviction that leaving things be would only lead to another one down the line.

“Even if our struggle ends in failure, someone will carry on afterward!”

“Comrades, rise up! March forth and fight!”

It took a fire that burned down half of Londinium before the first fire department was established.
The first labor standards (non-mandatory) were only introduced after dozens of children died in factory incidents.

This stifling Londinium was not a place that heeded words at face value.
While their education might have been lacking, the impoverished had become convinced that they would need to be prepared to burn down this city to find their rights and happiness.

If they had remained content with their present circumstances and held no interest in overthrowing the kingdom, the seeds sown by the Demonic Tribe would not have found such fertile soil.
While the Demonic Tribe had planted those seeds, it was the Glassgow Kingdom that had enriched the soil.

“Is this really the same ideology that was silently buried in our homeland without a sound?”

“What does the upper echelon say?”

“They didn’t expect such a fervent response.”

“Then what about the plan? Originally, we were supposed to wait a few more years, but at this rate, the humans might act first.”

“…I don’t know anymore. They just said to handle it at our discretion.”

“Londinium is too much of a cesspool to wait until the scheduled deadline… Is that really the reason for deviating from the plan?”

“The kids are joining the strike too. We don’t send our kids to factories either.”

And the Demonic Tribe members lurking in Londinium found that land to be overly fertile.
Too fertile, in fact.

Although a few Demonic Tribe members had already infiltrated Londinium, the police and border patrols were not completely blind.

They harbored a dislike for the Demonic Tribe, so whenever a suspicious group approached the border, there was no way they would simply part the seas and let them through.
In the end, fewer than thirty had managed to set foot in the Glassgow Kingdom, and the number that arrived unscathed in Londinium did not even exceed ten.

However, the rate at which brainwashing through the magic tome spread exceeded expectations.
No, even without the magic tome, some became naturally drawn to and followed that ideology – a scenario the Demonic Tribe had not originally anticipated. While they had achieved their primary goal of sowing chaos in Londinium, the scale had spiraled out of control.

As such, these communists had never intended to have any middle managers from the outset.

At the top of the pyramid were preachers like Hugo and other Demonic Tribe spies, beneath whom were only humans brainwashed by the magic tome to cause unrest.
The plan had been to gradually fill those intermediate roles over the years, either by recruiting or dispatching more Demonic Tribe members.

And some intellectuals had naturally risen to occupy those positions.
Their backgrounds varied – some had faced hardship from a young age, while others came from affluent but inflexible families and became sympathizers upon hearing the stories. But they shared one commonality:

“We must act now. Any later, and we’ll only be giving them more time to catch our trail.”

“I’ve heard rumors that the Metropolitan Police Department is already investigating.”

“Yeah, I heard that too. They’re apparently detaining and questioning people on the streets in South End.”

Namely, they had no intention of obediently heeding the Demonic Tribe’s vague instructions to simply wait indefinitely.
The Demonic Tribe had essentially played with fire when the wood was already soaked in oil and awaiting a spark. No amount of trying to withdraw that spark now would extinguish the raging blaze.

However, not everyone fully supported the rebellion against Londinium.

In the end, while brainwashed, their core identities remained as ordinary laborers.
That did not erase their existing reality nor distort the feelings of those who had avoided brainwashing.

People did not instantly become someone else in a single moment – within them still remained someone’s family, friends, and lovers.

“Still, there were those who treated us well.”

“Not everyone committed unforgivable acts.”

“If we aren’t intent on indiscriminately skewering them all like animals, shouldn’t we consider an alternative approach?”

The knowledge they possessed was merely forcefully implanted through rote education by the magic tome stuffing that ideology into their heads.

Naturally, the tome did not provide complementary gifts like governance skills or combat experience.
It offered no guidance on exemplary coup methods either, so most of the impoverished chose to express their rage in the way they knew best:

“Let’s submit a statement to foreign countries. Didn’t someone mention having family working at the post office? Please ask them to send a letter.”

“We should march to the palace and inform Her Majesty of our grievances. If our sincerity reaches her, something might improve.”

“If anyone dies, this fight cannot be stopped until the end. Either all of us die, or the rest of Londinium dies – only those two outcomes remain! Blood is not the solution!”

Strikes.
And marches.

Of course, there was no guarantee the city would heed their actions.
In fact, some doubted whether acting non-violently held any meaning, as they had more often been trampled than listened to in the past. This too was their retribution.

However:

“Well, I did manage to find a job. The pay is low, but the Norten Company or whatever gave me an easy physical labor position.”

“Was it that magician Edan? He did periodically send bread to East End to prevent starvation, selling products cheaply or even giving away used items.”

“Yeah. My kid is studying at his charitable foundation too.”

Since someone’s actions had not been entirely meaningless,
they decided to trust – just one more time – before resorting to torches and clubs.

And on the other side, the group consisting mainly of radicalized intellectuals:

“Let’s initiate the operation in two days’ time. Spread the word to everyone by then.”

“Understood.”

“Maintain absolute secrecy. If we’re exposed, we’ll certainly be killed.”
For the sake of focus, the Demonic Tribe judged it better to lead these extremists in burning Londinium rather than engaging in lukewarm marches.