The Sweet Alpha Crown Prince Loves Me So Much

Infusing magic stones with magic is a privilege reserved for those who possess it. 

Only when a magician’s unique seal is engraved and magic channeled into it does a ‘magic stone’ become a true ‘magical stone,’ imbued with magical properties.

Carl Lindbergh finally understood that while anyone could theoretically inscribe the formulas, the process was a difficult, specialized skill. However, he latched onto the idea that ‘anyone can input the formula’.

– Increase magic stone production?

Duke Hendrick, momentarily concerned by Prince Carl Lindbergh’s haggard appearance, quickly focused on the proposal for mass production.

“I recently experimented with inscribing formulas onto magic stones myself. It was surprisingly time-consuming and laborious.”

Carl Lindbergh rubbed his blistered middle finger.

The magician’s seal and surrounding geometric patterns were natural phenomena, transforming under the influence of magic. The inscription of formulas, however, was different. It required significant effort.

He’d spent the entire night by Belfry’s side, only returning to his room after Janis took over. He’d skipped dinner, working until dawn to finish inscribing a single stone.

The only naturally occurring mineral harder than a high-quality magic stone was a diamond. Inscribing a formula was akin to etching the stone’s surface with a diamond-tipped pen.

“I always assumed that processing magic stones required magical ability. Hence, the noble’s monopoly.”

Carl Lindbergh scratched his head. Immersing himself in work was usually a good distraction, but perhaps due to Adrian’s absence, or his lingering anxieties, he was finding it difficult to focus.

That’s when the idea struck him—what if commoners could be trained to process magic stones?

“Acquiring magic stones and diamonds in the first place isn’t something just anyone can do. And without understanding the formulas, there’s always the risk of creating unstable magic stones with unpredictable effects.”

– Hence, the noble’s monopoly on magic stones, and the crucial role of the lords in providing processed magic stones to the commoners.

Duke Hendrick’s understanding and support emboldened Carl. He cautiously continued:

“So, I was thinking… what if we trained specialized artisans among the commoners and delegated the inscription process? They wouldn’t produce high-quality magic stones, but if we maintain a certain standard, and increase production by having them work on multiple stones simultaneously, it could significantly improve distribution.”

Fortunately, not all magic stones were as hard as diamonds.

Lower-purity stones, relatively inexpensive, with a hardness similar to quartz, were easily inscribed.

While their lifespan was considerably shorter, they were suitable for everyday use and basic medical applications among commoners.

– So, you’re suggesting we train technicians specifically for the inscription process?

“Yes.”

The annual yield of magic stones remained relatively consistent. Considerable effort and resources were expended on clearing the surrounding areas and managing monster populations before mining could begin.

However, the refining process lagged behind the mining output, resulting in a limited supply of magic stones in circulation, and a surplus of unrefined magic stones accumulating in storage. Emperor Glenn had expressed concern over this issue.

Carl Lindbergh’s idea was sound, but there was a reason Emperor Glenn hadn’t pursued it.

– As you’ve discovered yourself, it’s a delicate and demanding process, not something just anyone can do. A single mistake can ruin a magic stone, and that’s why we’ve been hesitant.

Carl Lindbergh nodded in agreement.

“That’s why I’ve been exploring alternative solutions. What if we tasked those who produce our currency with inscribing the formulas?”

Duke Hendrick, surprised by the unexpected proposal, exclaimed:

– Currency producers?

“Yes. The craftsmanship of Heineken’s currency is quite remarkable.”

The precision of the printed letters and intricate patterns was evidence of exceptional skill.

“Inscribing formulas requires similar precision and a steady hand. And given the nature of their work, they must be individuals of impeccable integrity.”

– Indeed. Currency producers are selected and trained by the temple from a very young age. They are carefully vetted.

Currency production was a matter of trust. A single counterfeit bill could wreak havoc on the economy, so every producer’s information was meticulously documented and shared with both the Imperial Palace and the Temple.

“Such skilled individuals should have no difficulty inscribing standardized formulas onto magic stones.”

– But we’re already facing a shortage of currency producers…

“I believe currency production can be mechanized.”

– Machines producing currency? That would surely lead to rampant inflation!

Carl shook his head at Duke Hendrick’s concerns.

“Even with manual production, skilled artisans with malicious intent, or those adept at forgery, can easily counterfeit paper money.”

The current paper currency functioned more like promissory notes. The paper itself was worthless. It represented a promise of exchange for silver, gold, copper, or gemstones, the physical size increasing with the value.

Carl Lindbergh recalled his visit to the pawnshop.

Pawnshops served as a place to obtain loans using collateral or to exchange currency, fulfilling a similar role to modern banks.

The fact that the pawnshop owner, a commoner, had connections with the nobility highlighted their important role in the financial system.

“What if we gave paper money inherent value? Like gold or silver, it can’t be consumed, but it holds intrinsic worth. We could retain the unique serial numbers but incorporate complex, impossible-to-replicate patterns using machinery. And perhaps a special dye could be used for the final stamp.”

Even a simple thousand-won bill was said to be a product of advanced technology. Carl Lindbergh, however, lacked this knowledge. This was his best alternative.

– A special dye? What kind of dye?

“Something as rare and difficult to acquire as magic stones, Your Grace. For example, a dye that luminesces under moonlight, or one that temporarily changes color when exposed to light. Such unique properties would give it inherent value and deter counterfeiting.”

Duke Hendrick, pondering Carl Lindbergh’s suggestion, closed his eyes for a moment, then struck his palm with his fist.

– Ah! I have something in mind. A material we’ve been storing due to its lack of practical application.

“What is it?”

Carl Lindbergh leaned closer to the communication device.

– A type of fluorite, currently unnamed. It’s found near large magic stone deposits, but it’s too soft and impure to be used as a magic stone. We’ve simply been keeping it in storage. 

“What are its properties?”

– It glows in the dark, though too faintly to be used as a night pearl. It also liquefies at high temperatures.

Carl Lindbergh clapped his hands together, intrigued.

“How high of a temperature?”

– Roughly the temperature of freshly boiled water, slightly cooled.

“And it solidifies when it cools down?”

Hendrick nodded, and Carl Lindbergh realized that while classified as a mineral, it behaved more like wax.

Paper would disintegrate in near-boiling water anyway.

– It’s difficult to separate and reuse. Once solidified, it loses its luminescence. But it seems ideal for stamping currency.

“Perfect. It’s as if the goddess herself provided us with the answer.”

Carl, surprised by his own casual invocation of the goddess despite his lack of faith, realized how much he’d adapted to this world.

– Hmm, if this proves useful, we could reassign half of our currency producers to magic stone processing. Implementation will take time, but I’ll present this proposal to His Majesty.

“We’ll address the other challenges through trial and error. Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”

As Carl Lindbergh bowed his head, Duke Hendrick waved him off.

– There’s no need for formalities, Your Highness. His Majesty has been deeply concerned about magic stone production. I’m grateful for your innovative ideas.

The Duke, despite his age, was remarkably handsome, his features mirroring Belfry’s as he smiled, a youthful, almost boyish grin.

Carl felt a pang of sympathy for him.

“Thank you for listening so patiently, even though my suggestions might have seemed outlandish.”

He returned the smile, masking his inner turmoil. Duke Hendrick’s expression turned somber.

– Your Highness, you seem troubled. Adrian is at the border, communication is scarce, and then Belfry’s sudden differentiation…

Carl Lindbergh’s heart sank as the subject he’d been trying to avoid resurfaced.

He swallowed, his throat tight.

“I’m relieved his fever has broken. Is differentiation always this… traumatic? I don’t have any memory of mine.”

Belfry’s condition had been unstable.

He’d been thrashing, calling out for someone in his sleep – Carl wasn’t sure if it was Adrian or the Duke.

Though his fever had subsided, he was still bedridden, unable to keep down even soup.

– Shifting differentiations isn’t trivial. It involves the development of pheromone glands, and… the reproductive organs.

Duke Hendrick frowned, noting Carl Lindbergh’s troubled expression.

As a father, he longed to bring Belfry back to Heineken, but he couldn’t. He’d left him in Carl’s care, reassured by reports of the prince’s attentive nursing.

But the prince seemed deeply disturbed.

He was about to inquire further when Carl asked,

“Your Grace… what does it feel like to be imprinted?”

Duke Hendrick stared at Carl, his expression now on the verge of tears, a wave of dread washing over him.