Chapter 14: The Conception of the Magic-Driven Farm Tools
The northern plains of the Arkwright territory had now transformed into a massive construction site.
“More to the right! The slope is off by 0.1 degrees! Do it again!”
Oldas’s angry roar echoed across the site. From his outstretched fingertip extended an almost invisible thread of wind, precisely tied to the top of a stake several dozen meters away.
The same magic that had once been used for vague rituals to pray for fertility was now functioning as a highly precise surveying instrument.
A little further ahead, his apprentices were desperately holding their hands out toward the ground.
“Uoooh…! Earth, obey my command!”
Responding to their magic power, the hard soil was sliced apart as smoothly as tofu, neatly cut to the specified width and depth. The walls of the trench were seared and hardened by magic, forming smooth, solid surfaces.
At first, their control over mana had been poor—the holes they dug would collapse or come out uneven—but under Zenon’s terrifyingly detailed manuals and Oldas’s relentless instruction, their technique was improving by the day.
“How’s the progress?”
The foreman rushed over at the sound of Zenon’s voice as he arrived to inspect the site.
“Zenon-sama! The progress is astounding! At this pace, the first phase will be completed three months ahead of schedule! Truly divine work!”
The engineer’s voice trembled with excitement, but Zenon’s expression remained cold and composed.
To him, this result was simply as calculated. Replacing human labor with the immense energy of magic would naturally reduce the construction period drastically—it was a logical conclusion.
Zenon examined part of the finished aqueduct. No leaks, and the water flowed perfectly along the intended gradient.
“Not bad. But there’s still room for improvement. Record the mana consumption patterns during earth magic use. Analyze them and find the most efficient mana flow. You should be able to cut energy loss by twenty percent.”
“T-Twenty percent, sir!?”
“Do it. Show me with results.”
Leaving that cool command behind, Zenon walked away. His interest was no longer in the canal itself. His eyes were fixed on something deeper—on a more fundamental inefficiency.
On the way back from his inspection, he stopped his horse and looked down from a hill at the farmers toiling in the vast fields.
Anticipating the completion of the aqueduct, they were hard at work plowing the land. Strong men drove oxen pulling plows, sweat pouring from their bodies as they turned over the hardened soil. Behind them, women and children followed with hoes, breaking up the clods.
It was an idyllic sight—unchanged for centuries—and unbearably inefficient.
“…Too slow.”
Zenon muttered to himself.
“Far too slow.”
The area a few people and a single ox could till in a day was negligible. Even if the aqueducts were finished and the soil improved, this “plowing” process would remain the bottleneck, preventing any dramatic increase in productivity.
Agriculture relied on three elements: soil, water, and labor.
The problems of soil and water were being solved. Then the next step was labor.
Could this process be made more efficient?
In his mind, vivid memories from his previous life resurfaced.
A vast field being plowed at incredible speed by a single, massive machine of iron.
A tractor. A cultivator.
The overwhelming power of an internal combustion engine far surpassed that of human or animal labor.
Could such a thing be recreated in this world?
The structure of an internal combustion engine was too complex, and it required refined fuel. But this world already possessed an energy source far more efficient than gasoline.
Magic.
“…I see.”
A feral grin curved Zenon’s lips.
It was the face of a consultant who had just discovered a revolutionary business model.
That afternoon, a summons from Zenon arrived once more at the Tower of Mages.
Oldas and the others, weary and tense, went to Zenon’s office, bracing themselves for yet another impossible demand.
When they entered, Zenon didn’t even glance at them—he was bent over a piece of parchment, sketching what looked like a blueprint.
“We have come at your command, my lord.”
Oldas said, representing the group.
“Ah, good. You’re here.”
Zenon replied, finally looking up.
“I have new work for you.”
The three magicians stiffened. What more could he possibly want?
“Tell me…”
Zenon said suddenly.
“What is magic?”
It was a question so abrupt it caught them off guard.
Oldas hesitated, then gave the textbook answer.
“…It is the secret art that interferes with the primal mana of the world to manifest miracles, my lord.”
“Wrong.”
Zenon dismissed it with a single word.
“Magic is energy. Highly efficient, clean energy. You’ve been wasting it—using it only to cause phenomena. But that’s not its true purpose.”
He stood and spread the parchment out before them.
On it was a drawing of a farming plow, with a strange gemstone embedded in its handle and a network of intricate lines extending from it.
“This is a simple conceptual diagram of a device that produces continuous power.”
“Power…?”
“Yes. This gemstone—a mana crystal—will receive a steady supply of external magic energy. The engraved formula inside will convert that mana into physical force, moving the plow’s blade. In short, the blade will vibrate automatically and dig into the earth without the need for human or animal strength.”
The magicians struggled to process what they were hearing.
Using magic… for menial labor?
That wasn’t something for noble magicians—it was the work of carpenters and masons! One apprentice’s face twisted in disdain.
Zenon noticed it immediately. His voice turned icy.
“You think it’s foolish? A waste of magic?”
“…!”
“Then calculate it. This single magic plow will generate the strength of ten oxen. Its speed will surpass human labor a hundredfold. With it, one farmer could till a hundred times the area in a single day. Do you understand what that means?”
Oldas gasped.
A hundredfold.
The sheer meaning of that number struck him like lightning.
Food production would skyrocket to levels never before imagined.
Famine itself might vanish from their lands.
It was a revolution—an achievement far beyond the “blessings of fertility” they had sought for decades through rituals and prayer.
“This…”
Zenon declared.
“…is the most rational—and the most noble—use of magic.
Killing one man with lightning, or saving ten thousand from hunger. Even you should understand which is the greater miracle.”
Those words shattered the hardened pride of the magicians to their very core.
Yes—what a small, meaningless thing they had been clinging to.
The true value of magic did not lie in the flashiness or mystery of its phenomena.
Its worth lay in how many people it could help, and how great the benefit it could bring.
The value was in the results.
“…Zenon-sama.”
Oldas’s voice trembled—not from fear, but from the thrill of a scholar standing before the door to a vast new truth.
“This… concept of a magic plow—please, tell us more in detail!”
His eyes shone brightly, like those of an excited child.
Zenon nodded in satisfaction and expanded on his vision.
“This is only the beginning. Not just a plow. Imagine an automatic magic seeder that plants crops by itself. A magic weeder that burns only unwanted weeds with precision. And then, a single machine that combines all those functions into one…”
On the edge of the parchment, Zenon began sketching a design resembling a tractor from his previous life—yet sleeker, more advanced.
“I shall name it—the Magic Tractor.”
Oldas and his apprentices were entranced by the sketch.
Zenon’s words and the image before them wove together into a single grand vision of the future.
An iron giant powered by magic, racing across the fields, bringing forth abundant harvests without human hands.
It was like witnessing the divine act of a god of fertility spoken of in myth.
“Please allow us to take on this task! Not just the three of us—our entire Mage Guild will devote itself to this project! We will make it succeed!”
Oldas cried out from the depths of his heart.
All fear of Zenon had vanished.
What remained was pure reverence—awe for a pioneer who sought the same ultimate truth.
At the doorway, Gray watched the scene in silence.
Once again, his heart swelled with deep emotion—born of a grand misunderstanding.
(Ah… Zenon-sama has finally stepped into the realm of the divine! He seeks to end the world’s suffering itself through the power of magic—to create paradise on earth! His love for the people is so deep… so noble…!)
Unaware of his loyal servant’s misplaced admiration, Zenon calmly pondered project management for the upcoming development and the massive profits to be gained from patenting the results.
The agricultural revolution had just shifted into a new gear.