Since His Majesty the King had left, there was no need for the R&D team to remain in the square. They boarded a boat and headed away from the hunting grounds, returning to the ’birthplace’ of the telegraph.

"Cheers!"

A joyous atmosphere filled the laboratory tent.

The members of the project team raised their glasses in unison. They weren’t celebrating the successful delivery of His Majesty the King’s beloved dog, of course, but the successful completion of their first project.

There was the finest sparkling wine from the southern Kingdom, lobster in bell pepper sauce prepared by a top chef, and herb-crusted lamb chops. The only thing missing, as far as Rorschach was concerned, was a giant red banner with a bold declaration: "Congratulations on the Successful Completion of the Long-Range Communications Project!"

They hadn’t had any regular days off during this period, with everyone showing up every single day. While such a schedule was normal for the guys from the Alchemy Department, it left everyone else exhausted. Because of this, Snow had announced that everyone would get a vacation after the first project was over.

Andre, who was drinking for the first time, couldn’t control his expression as the bubbles and alcohol hit him. His whole face scrunched up, and by the time it relaxed, his cheeks were already flushed red.

"Andre, my boy, you can’t hold your liquor at all!" a Mage from the Alchemy Department who knew Andre well slung an arm around his shoulders. He clutched a wine bottle, ready to pour more into the young man’s glass. "C’mon, drink up! You have to drink more to build a tolerance!"

Andre didn’t want any more, but he felt awkward refusing. Just as his glass was about to be topped off, Rorschach noticed his plight. He sat down on Andre’s other side and blocked the bottle. "Andre is heading home alone tonight. It wouldn’t be safe for him to get drunk."

Thankfully, the Mage wasn’t the type to force someone to drink. He blinked in confusion for a moment, then switched targets. "Master Rorschach has a point. Our success this time is thanks to you! Come, a toast to Master Rorschach!"

He raised his glass high, and the others followed suit. "To Master Rorschach!"

’This is enough to make anyone’s head swell...’ Rorschach thought. He raised his glass as well. "To the Magic Guild!" Then he suddenly remembered the non-mage engineers. "To every wise contributor! To our team!"

A luncheon of this scale was unusual. In the Holy Kingdom, it was customary to save the best wine and richest dishes for the evening, despite the strain it put on one’s digestion. The instructors from the former Artillery Academy couldn’t be bothered with such traditions. They just dug in and feasted—many of them hadn’t had a proper meal with meat in a long time.

"Our team members are like a pack of starving wolves..." Snow remarked, raising an eyebrow. He watched one of the instructors enjoying his lamb chop. Though the man was still using a knife and fork rather than just gnawing on the bone, he had only hastily hacked the meat off, impatiently stuffed it into his mouth, and was now chewing with maximum force and jaw extension.

Others, however, maintained their elegance. They patiently cut the meat into bite-sized pieces, taking care not to show their teeth as they ate, and never letting their cheeks bulge as they chewed.

The youngest Middle Level Mage was also eating his lamb chop. Snow watched as the young man put the meat on his plate and held his knife and fork for a moment... only to then spear a perfectly cut piece and pop it into his mouth.

’Do you really have to use the Decomposition Skill just to eat?’

Snow had no idea that Rorschach used his Decomposition Magic most often for cutting food.

After finishing his lamb chop, Rorschach set his sights on the roasted chicken. No servers had been hired for the celebration in the secret laboratory. Instead, it was a self-service buffet, a style said to have originated with the Dwarf pirates of the north. The food was piled high on a long table, and since Rorschach couldn’t reach the chicken by hand, he naturally used Mage’s Hand.

An instructor sitting beside him watched with envy as a chicken leg flew through the air and landed neatly on the young man’s plate. After a moment’s hesitation, the instructor asked quietly, "Master Rorschach, could I trouble you to grab the herb sauce for me?"

He pointed to a sauce boat a short distance away, which was also too far to reach without getting up.

"Of course." Rorschach’s Mage’s Hand lifted the sauce boat. To the instructor’s eyes, the gleaming silver vessel floated up steadily and poured a precise stream of green sauce onto his plate.

"Thank you! That’s incredible..."

’What’s so incredible about that?’ Rorschach was exasperated.

Others noticed the levitating sauce boat. Soon, fine food and wine were flying all over the room above the long table as many Mages began helping their non-mage neighbors grab food.

Snow watched it all unfold as he ate, letting out a sigh of relief.

A few days ago, Kano had found out about Baditz’s dismissal and flown into a thunderous rage. Snow could still remember how the flesh on the Master’s face had trembled with fury.

"Master Snow, I must stress that this project is not just about the experiment itself. It is also a test of cooperation between Mages and the most knowledgeable and capable non-mages. That is what I tasked you with."

"As the team leader, you must foster a good relationship between the two sides! I don’t want to hear any more news like this, and I never want to hear you say something like, ’He was just an insignificant nobody’ ever again!"

The memory faded, and Snow’s focus returned to the banquet.

The instructors began singing an old army song, "The Enemy Shall Not Pass Our Lines." Some of the guys from the Alchemy Department pulled three-stringed lutes from their Storage Bags and strummed along.

"The black eagle soars above our towns, believing victory is within its grasp."

"The crows come across the sea, to fill our fields and hollows."

"But hark, the Rooster of Valois crows! Brothers, rise and fight!"

"Our heroes stand upon the pass, guarding the gates of Valois! Your kind shall never pass through!"

’The crows crossing the sea are obviously the Istani, and the black eagle can only be the Empire.’ ’Black Eagle’ Rorschach mused, enjoying the instructors’ passionate singing and clapping along to the beat.

’I hope that when the day comes, you guys can fight better than you sing. Don’t let the Empire Army speedrun Valuva...’

After the serious songs came the less-than-serious ditties from the Moulin Rouge. Rorschach summoned a ball of light and commanded it to pulse with RGB effects. The others saw this and were amazed. "Whoa, you can do that?!" The guys all scrambled to copy him, turning the tent into a tacky disco hundreds of years ahead of its time.

Snow nodded to himself. ’This is much better...’

"Goodbye!" The banquet-and-sing-along finally ended as evening fell. The drunks boarded the speedboats, and as soon as the boats accelerated, they were leaning over the gunwales to chum the waters for the fish in the Seine River. BLECH... URP...

"Should I get going, then?" Rorschach had been there mostly for the food. Since he’d only had sparkling wine, he wasn’t drunk. Still, he was eager to start his vacation and wanted to catch the last speedboat back to his dorm.

"Master Rorschach, hold on! Andre, my boy, you too!"

THWAP.

Snow’s large hands clamped down, one on Rorschach and the other on Andre, who had been trying to slip away with his teacher.

’Damn, Master Snow, do you lift weights every day? This isn’t the kind of arm strength an AP carry should have!’ Rorschach tried to take a couple of steps forward but couldn’t budge. It felt like Snow was about to press him into the ground. All he could do was watch the last instructor—a complete drunken mess—depart on the boat.

When Rorschach glanced back, he saw the other Alchemy Department guys, who had been roaring drunk just moments before, either Casting spells on themselves or pulling out Antidote Potions and chugging them down. In an instant, they all removed the negative effects of the alcohol.

’Are they planning something big?’ Rorschach sensed something was afoot.

A moment later, a speedboat from the city came tearing across the water, kicking up a five-meter wake as it charged toward the laboratory tent. Before the boat had even docked, two Full-Armor Warriors launched themselves from the deck. They performed an impossibly agile two-and-a-half-twist rotation in mid-air before landing steadily on the ground.

Thunderous applause erupted from behind Rorschach.