NoveLight ™
Most of the blueprint was plausible and logical—except for the parts that involved magical engineering.
Those, however, were issues the wizard could address himself.
“Why is there a valve here?”
“Oh, that’s to use the heated water in the bathroom,” Penelope replied promptly.
The wizard gaped at her. “Then you’d have to connect the pipes to a waterway.”
“Would that be difficult?”
“Difficult? You call that difficult? You even drew in a circulation pump and a heat sensor yourself!”
Ah, so that’s what a circulation pump and heat sensor are, Penelope realized.
She had sketched the details from memory after watching a documentary, but she hadn’t fully understood the intricacies of what she was drawing.
Now that she thought about it, it was more surprising that the wizard could understand the blueprint at a glance.
“Wizards really are geniuses,” Penelope thought, revising her opinion of him slightly.
The wizard stared at her with hollow eyes, looking even more fatigued than before—if that was even possible.
“And how many dwarves do you plan to hire?”
“I was thinking two for now.”
The wizard groaned.
“Two? Are you kidding me? Hire at least ten!”
“Sorry, but even two are stretching the budget thin. The territory doesn’t have much money,” Penelope said bluntly.
The wizard froze, struck speechless by the harsh truth. Reality was, indeed, a cruel teacher.
“Damn it! You’re really planning to exploit me for just 150,000 gold?”
The wizard looked as though he had been duped into a fraudulent contract and seethed with indignation.
Penelope silently observed him, thinking how emotionally volatile he was.
After a long moment, the wizard slumped onto the sofa like a cat turning into liquid.
“So, what’s the budget you’re working with?” he asked weakly.
“100,000 gold,” Penelope replied.
“Make it 500,000. Anything less is impossible.”
“Let’s settle on 150,000. That’s all I can allocate from the Imperial Bank loan.”
Another sharp blow of reality struck the wizard squarely.
“Ugh… Why is everything here so miserably poor?”
The wizard ruffled his hair in frustration, muttered to himself for a while, and then suddenly leaned forward, his head bowed.
He began scribbling on the back of the blueprint with a pen that seemed to materialize out of thin air.
Penelope marveled, “Where did that pen even come from?”
She cautiously glanced over to see what he was writing.
“So, half of it’s doable?”
Feeling a glimmer of hope, Penelope added, “If making a sensor is too complicated, we could go for a manual operation system. Someone could adjust the boiler whenever the room feels cold.”
“Boiler? Is that what this device is called?”
“Oh, yes. The official name is the Ondol Boiler,” Penelope said, confidently combining Korean and English into a hybrid term. She wanted to preserve the term “ondol” and stood by her choice.
The wizard didn’t seem to care about the name.
“If it’s manually operated, I could make it faster and cheaper. Considering the budget, that’s probably the better option for now,” the wizard said, growing more confident.
Compared to the sophisticated magical devices that could precisely regulate room temperature, the boiler was relatively simple in concept.
In this world, which had technology akin to the 18th century Industrial Revolution, heat sensors were clearly uncharted territory.
“So, does that mean you’ll help?” Penelope asked hesitantly.
The wizard shot her a look, as if to ask, Why are you even asking at this point?
“Well, I mean, it’s better to get things clarified,” Penelope muttered in defense.
“Why the hell did I come here…” the wizard grumbled, rising from his seat.
Clutching the blueprint so tightly it crumpled in his hand, he stormed out of the office.
It was abundantly clear that he was the type to rebel against being told what to do.
“Is he some kind of contrarian?” Penelope wondered.
It remained to be seen.
Finally, she let out a long sigh and leaned back against the sofa.
“Completely drained.”
Even a brief conversation with the wizard felt like it had sapped all her energy.
At first, she had been intimidated by him. Every time she accidentally locked eyes with those intense green irises hidden beneath his hair, a primal chill ran down her spine.
When he quietly nibbled on a scone, he seemed a little endearing, even harmless. But when he interrogated her with sharp questions, he became frightening again.
“He seems full of weaknesses, but somehow he’s terrifying,” Penelope muttered.
It was likely because he possessed overwhelming power. As someone weaker, her instincts naturally registered fear.
“Are all wizards this erratic and difficult?”
The Mage Tower Master in the original story had always spoken in sweet, sugar-coated words. Clearly, not all wizards were cut from the same cloth.
Then again, upon reflection, even the Mage Tower Master had been kind only to the heroine.
“Still, it’s a relief we can build the ondol system.”
For those who had to endure the harsh winter, this was undeniably good news.
***
The next morning, without so much as a knock, the wizard barged into Penelope’s office.
“When the blueprint is completed, you’ll file for a patent first, right?”
“Uh, of course,” Penelope replied, caught off guard.
The wizard, acting like the quintessential wizard, was bouncing his leg impatiently and twirling a pen between his fingers.
To march in uninvited and immediately bring up patent rights—he was truly a whirlwind of unpredictability.
Setting aside the ledger she had been reviewing, Penelope asked, “What brings you here so early?”
True to his contrarian nature, the wizard gave a completely unrelated response.
“Alright, once it’s done, I’ll take seven shares, and you’ll get three.”
“If you’d like to take three shares, I’ll consider it,” Penelope replied matter-of-factly, despite the chaos in her mind.
As expected, the wizard didn’t agree.
“Your blueprint is a mess! There’s no consideration for magical engineering at all!”
“Well, naturally. I’m not a wizard,” she said, keeping her tone level.
“Gah…!”
The wizard bit down on his lower lip, glaring at her.
“Where did this woman even come from?”
She’d been suspicious from the start. Probably no older than twenty, she had a calmness in her gaze that belied her age, displayed outdated noble etiquette, and never seemed flustered—even in front of a wizard.
And those eyes of hers… They looked like they’d remain composed even while she calmly uttered, ‘Well, I suppose this is my end.’
“And you, Wizard—aren’t you going to set up the magic stone barrier? That’s the most urgent matter, isn’t it?” Penelope asked, steering the conversation back on track.
The wizard gave a sidelong glance at the mountain of ledgers piled on her desk and replied with visible reluctance.
“Oh, that? A week is enough for that. I’ll have it done by the end of the month, so don’t nag me about it.”
“Since the lives of the territory’s residents depend on it, I trust you’ll handle it properly. I’m counting on you, after all.”
“….”
The wizard twitched an eyebrow.
“Counting on me? Then why do her eyes scream, ‘Don’t mess this up or else’?”
It was clear she wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.
For the first time in ages, the wizard felt something akin to competitiveness stir within him.
After glancing up at the ceiling and then down at the floor, the wizard suddenly turned his gaze to Penelope.
“Call me Ahwin.”
Penelope shot him a quick glance.
“Then please call me Baroness of Halo, Ahwin.”
“Baroness? And where’s the Baron of Halo?”
It was a loaded question—an attempt to suggest that while the lord was off squandering wealth, his wife was left to shoulder all the responsibilities.
“He passed away. Two months ago,” Penelope replied calmly.
“….”
Ahwin’s lips pressed together tightly, his expression visibly awkward.
The maid, entering the office with a tea tray, paused, visibly uncomfortable.
“No sense of tact whatsoever,” she thought, casting a frosty glare at the wizard.
Anyone paying even a little attention to the territory’s affairs would have known the baron had died. Yet this wizard was only now asking about it.
Unable to withstand the maid’s cold gaze, Ahwin abruptly stood.
“Oh, uh, the dwarves are arriving this afternoon, right? Hrm. I’ll just… take a look around the castle grounds,” he stammered.
“Will you not have breakfast first?” Penelope asked.
“I’ll eat when I return,” he muttered before abruptly leaping out the window.
The maid let out a startled scream as he disappeared from view.