Third Prince of the Shirone Kingdom.
A blessed child born with superhuman strength.
He is a pervert.
An undeniable pervert.
Perhaps "obsessive figurine otaku" would be more accurate.
Before he knows it, he's spent every day gazing at dolls.
And whenever the mood strikes, he strokes them with the gentlest of touches.
He never treats his dolls roughly.
When he gets excited, he loses control of his superhuman strength— but when it comes to dolls, he never once gets the force wrong.
Perhaps his love for dolls is what makes that possible.
Love.
Yes, he loves dolls.
Dotes on them, really.
For instance, there's a single bronze nude statue in his room.
He'd seen it at the market and bought it on impulse, apparently.
A slender yet slightly voluptuous impression of a young girl's nude form.
The first time I visited Zanoba's room, he was hugging that statue with nothing on.
To be fair, I hadn't knocked before entering, intending to surprise him.
That's entirely my fault. But when Zanoba saw my face, he scrambled to put on his clothes and apologized profusely.
As for what exactly he'd been doing while hugging it naked—I think I'll spare the explanation.
His love is abnormal.
The northern lands still get the occasional snowfall. Step outside and it's freezing cold—no need to even think about how cold a metal statue would be.
Yet here he was, on the verge of frostbite, prioritizing his desires.
It's beyond anything I could manage.
But I wouldn't say I can't understand it.
In my previous life, I "used" figurines myself.
Of course, if I'd done that sort of thing with a divine statue, even I'd have to draw the line.
...Come to think of it, I didn't spot a
Did he leave it at his parents' house?
--- And so this particular day, he suddenly dropped to his knees in a full prostration.
It was nighttime. In my hands was a half-finished figurine.
"Master! Please teach me the way of making dolls!"
For the past month, I'd been telling Zanoba to wait just a little longer.
He'd been obedient, like a well-trained dog, sitting and waiting— but it seemed he'd finally reached the limit of his patience.
"You promised, didn't you?!"
"Why haven't you started the lessons yet?!"
Zanoba was rather indignant.
Of course, I had no reason to refuse.
That had been the deal from the start.
I'd been doing practice sessions on my own as rehabilitation.
The reason I hadn't taught him yet was partly because things hadn't settled down, partly because it was so far removed from my original purpose, and partly because I hadn't found the right opening.
"...Zanoba. My training is unforgiving."
I said it in an overly theatrical tone, and Zanoba's eyes widened as he nodded solemnly.
"Of course, Master. Please do not underestimate me too much. Even if I have to cough up blood, I will master the secrets of doll-making from you!"
"Hmph. That's the spirit."
And so, I agreed to teach Zanoba doll-making.
We'd use the time before bed, about one to two hours each day.
I had my own ulterior motives, too.
His love for dolls was genuine.
And not to mention, being royalty, he had money.
Perhaps he could even take on the projects I'd abandoned—coloring figurines and mass-producing them.
First up: mass-producing Roxy figurines.
When I'd made them before, they were one-of-a-kind. But this world had the technology for bronze casting and Western-style dolls. By repurposing those methods, the quality would suffer, but mass production should be feasible.
After that,
I'd write a book based on historical records, glorifying the Superd race throughout. To make it more appealing to the readers of this world, I'd go heavy on battle scenes, contrasting a man not recognized by the world with the heroes who were—portraying the struggles and anguish of a man fighting for recognition even when the world won't give it.
And as a bonus with the book, a figurine.
A figurine free with the book.
Having the protagonist visualized versus not makes a huge difference, after all.
If that worked out, maybe I could follow up with a book celebrating Roxy's great deeds.
Alright. I can do this.
It might be impossible on my own, but Zanoba was royalty through and through.
He had money.
He had passion.
He'd make the perfect business partner.
There's a saying: counting your chickens before they hatch.
That's exactly how I felt at the time.
"Very well! I shall now pass on the ultimate secrets!"
"Yes, Master!"
Our doll-making journey had only just begun.
--- Let me cut to the chase.
It didn't work.
Zanoba could not create figurines using chantless earth magic.
There were two reasons.
First, he couldn't control magic without incantations.
Second, his total mana capacity was hopelessly insufficient.
When you think about it, in this world, almost no one can use magic without incantations. Among the people I'd met, there was
I'd been able to do it since I was young, so I hadn't realized just how advanced chantless magic really was. Looking back, neither
In that state, Zanoba—who had only just started learning magic—never stood a chance.
And the mana capacity issue was equally critical.
The reason I'd taken up figurine-making in the first place was to efficiently burn through my ever-expanding mana reserves. I was spending a considerable amount of mana on each piece.
This was the first time I truly understood it.
Apparently, my total mana capacity was far greater than anyone else's.
Well, I'd had a vague sense of it before.
I knew I had more than most.
But I hadn't realized the gap was this large.
When I saw other mages run out of mana during adventuring, I'd thought, "They're wasting mana on pointless things." If you put it in numbers—if a normal mage was around 100—I'd estimated I was maybe 500, tops.
In reality, my mana capacity was far, far beyond that.
I never imagined Zanoba wouldn't even be able to create a single part.
Well, setting that aside for the moment— Zanoba tried his hardest.
He'd wake up in the morning, use mana until he fainted, wake up, use mana until he fainted again.
He repeated this all day long.
His cheeks had sunk haggardly from pushing himself to the limit.
His skull-like face was a mess of tears and snot.
The talent for the one thing he wanted most—there was none of it.
You could see it written all over him.
What horrible thing had I done to this man?
I reflected on my actions.
I reflected, and I apologized to him.
"Sorry."
Zanoba shook his head, answering weakly.
"No... if only I were more capable..."
The back of a broken man.
The back of a defeated dog radiating sorrow.
I couldn't let him give up here.
I thought.
It was too pitiful for Zanoba to not even take the first step in figurine-making.
But chantless magic was out.
And if his mana capacity wasn't enough, there was no way he could make figurines using the same method I did.
"Alright. Let's change the approach."
The conclusion came naturally.
"There's another way?!"
Zanoba, who had been so dejected, immediately perked up and leaned forward.
"Yes. Let's go in a direction that uses as little mana as possible."
I said this and created a lump of earth.
Clay.
"I used magic to make this now, but you could probably find it in nature if you looked."
Where exactly could you find clay in this world again?
I'd heard stories of famous potters holed up in the mountains, but this world's mountains and forests were crawling with danger.
That said, some golems had clay-like materials, and there were probably plenty of things that could be repurposed without having to dig up the ground.
"What do I do with it?"
"Whittle it down."
Whittling.
The most primitive, most foolproof, and most difficult method.
Whittle each individual part from a lump of clay.
That should be possible even for someone without mana.
The only problem was not having the right tools for the job.
But for that, I could just look around the market for a mana-infused tool.
I vaguely recalled seeing a knife somewhere that could cut through rock like butter.
"I see! Master, this is something even I can do!"
Zanoba's voice brightened.
His face was filled with hope.
--- Hope was crushed with terrifying ease.
Zanoba was not dexterous.
This was inherent to his natural ability.
Superhuman strength.
Yes, his superhuman strength got in the way.
He could control himself enough not to break things.
But that was as far as his control went.
The delicate work of carefully whittling out individual parts was beyond him.
Zanoba's eyes turned bloodshot as he struggled every single day.
His passion was real.
He went without sleep, pushing himself to the brink of starvation as he threw himself into doll-making.
Things never went his way. He started over again and again.
Each time, he cried, screamed, and let out bizarre shrieks.
And then— he completed it.
A doll he'd made from scratch.
It was not beautiful.
The quality was poor. In my previous life, it would've been laughed off the internet, or circulated en masse as a meme image or collage material.
But I knew better.
This was his passion.
I could never laugh at it.
But even if I didn't laugh, Zanoba himself understood that the quality was bad.
"Master, I can't do it... I can't... I can't do it like you, Master!"
Zanoba was crying.
He cried because he couldn't make it the way he wanted.
He was broken, looking as if he'd never find the strength to stand again.
From the start of training to completion: two months.
Zanoba's gaunt, hollowed-out face.
Even looking at that, there was nothing I could do.
--- "That's what happened."
I decided to consult Fitz-senpai.
Asking someone else about your disciple's failure was hardly dignified for a master.
But I needed someone's advice.
I felt sorry for Zanoba, after all.
"A doll? You make dolls?"
Fitz-senpai looked somewhat confused.
We sat side by side in library chairs as he listened to my story, tilting his head.
"Yes, something like this."
I used earth magic to quickly sculpt a simple doll.
A basic figure—like a naked stick figure, basically.
"A-Amazing..."
Fitz-senpai stared wide-eyed at my hands, examining the finished doll intently.
Then, trying it himself, he concentrated mana at his fingertips and produced a squiggly, shapeless lump of mud.
To attempt it immediately—this guy was pretty impressive too.
But it didn't take the shape he wanted.
Eventually, Fitz-senpai let out a "huff" and gave up.
"Can't do it."
Well, making figurines was a skill I'd been honing steadily since long ago.
If someone could copy it just by watching, I'd cry.
That said, it looked like Fitz-senpai could probably do it with practice.
He could use chantless magic, after all.
"This isn't something just anyone can replicate."
"Right. I'm also considering another method—whittling it down from a lump of clay—but..."
"He's not dexterous, so he can't do that either."
Fitz-senpai hummed, placing a hand on his chin in thought.
Apparently, resting his chin on his hand was a habit of his whenever he was thinking.
Perhaps because of the sunglasses, that pose looked incredibly sharp.
Incidentally, when he was embarrassed or troubled, he'd scratch behind his ears or his cheeks.
That gesture felt age-appropriate and oddly endearing.
Of course, elves were long-lived, so appearances could be deceiving.
"Hmm, let me think. I don't know if this will help, but in the Asuran capital, there was someone similar."
"Someone similar?"
"Yep. Someone who wanted to do things themselves but lacked the ability and the skills."
"What did that person do?"
At my question, Fitz-senpai looked a bit awkward and scratched behind his ear.
"Well, um, they had their slaves do it."
"Oh."
According to Fitz-senpai, that person in the capital had knowledge but no practical skill. So they purchased slaves, taught them, and had them make what they wanted.
"I heard that, um, Zanoba-kun really likes the dolls
"...Wait, is that how the conversation went?"
"Hmm, that's what it sounded like to me?"
Come to think of it, maybe so.
But then again, most figurine enthusiasts might do some painting or customization, but they'd never dream of making one from scratch.
In my previous life, I'd only ever gone as far as doing some mods for fun.
"Zanoba-kun probably wants you to become his personal doll artisan, but since he knows that's not possible, isn't he just saying that as a workaround?"
"I mean, it's not exactly impossible."
Being employed at the Shirone royal palace, making figurines for Zanoba every day.
In the end, maybe that kind of life wouldn't be so bad.
A royal palace position meant steady pay.
Come to wonder, how much did Fitz-senpai get paid monthly by Princess Ariel?
...Asking would probably be rude.
"Well, I'll propose the idea to Zanoba. Thanks."
"You're welcome."
When I bowed my head, Fitz-senpai smiled with a bashful grin.
Why did that smile always make my heart skip a beat?
It was a mystery.
The enigma that is Fitz—truly a mystery.
--- I told Zanoba about the idea of buying slaves, teaching them the craft, and having them make the dolls.
He got excited.
He was overjoyed, saying "that's exactly what I was thinking!" and immediately started planning slave purchases.
Apparently, he'd wanted to make them himself.
But since that was impossible, he'd accepted that this was the way to go.
Surprisingly, the method Fitz-senpai had described—having slaves do it—was apparently quite common in this world.
However, since the relationship between master and disciple existed, asking someone else to teach a slave rather than teaching himself was considered rude.
Zanoba had originally declared he'd learn even if he coughed up blood.
He couldn't bring himself to ask, but he was relieved that I'd been the one to propose it.
"So, we've decided to visit the slave market on the next holiday."
I thanked Fitz-senpai again.
Having someone you could turn to for advice in tough times was truly a blessing.
"Oh, nice. I hope you find a good one."
And that topic was put to rest.
Or rather, after that, Fitz-senpai seemed a bit fidgety.
How to describe it...
"Come to think of it, I'm also free on the next holiday."
"Are you?"
"Mm, and well, I was thinking of maybe going into town since I have nothing else to do, but there's nowhere in particular I want to go... I don't really have friends, so I'd be alone..."
From the way he spoke, I could practically sense him stealing glances in my direction.
Would he be fine without his guard?
Wasn't there something about needing to be near the princess if something came up?
...Well, that wasn't really my concern.
Luke could probably handle it.
"So, um, would you like to come along on the next holiday?"
"Really? You wouldn't mind if I tagged along?"
"Not at all. Consider it my way of repaying you for the advice—my treat for a meal."
"In that case, I'll take you up on that."
Fitz-senpai said this with a bashful smile.
--- And so, the three of us set off for the slave market.
I considered subtitles like: "Rudeus vs. Zanoba"
"Master's Mana Capacity Is the Greatest in the World!!!"
"A Bouquet in Both Hands!? The Super-Strength Prince, the Bashful Prince, and a Thrilling Shopping Trip!"
—but ultimately decided against it.