Spring was just around the corner.
I could feel it approaching, though the air remained bitingly cold.
The cat spent his days sleeping in the kotatsu. Initially, he had been a bit hesitant, but now he was comfortable enough to squeeze in alongside Kuro and the others. His favorite haunt, however, was the "spider walk" along the beams of the mansion. Even in the dead of winter, some of Zabuton's children were still active, and they often vied for the best spots on the rafters.
I wouldn't exactly call it a rivalry; it was more like a polite arrangement to share the space. I had worried they might fight, but there were no problems at all. Both sides were far too intelligent for that. I already knew Zabuton's children were bright, but the cat was proving to be quite clever as well. He learned how to use the outhouse after being shown only once, and he even understood the command to "wait" before his meals.
If I had to name a single blunder... it would be the time he tumbled into a sake barrel and nearly drowned. He was still walking with a staggered, drunken gait even after I fished him out. Incidentally, the Sake Slime seemed to thoroughly enjoy the flavor of the sake from that particular barrel afterward. Since then, the slime had been mischievously trying to lure the cat back toward the alcohol storage, but the cat was far too nimble to be caught twice.
He had truly settled in. Come to think of it, the cat was male. I wondered if I should eventually try to find him a mate from somewhere.
My project for the day involved a massive carriage parked in the workshop of the mansion. By carriage, I mean the sort with four wheels pulled by horses. While I usually pictured the covered wagons of the frontier days, the one before me was a box-type coach. It was the kind of vehicle a noble would use, boasting rather lavish decorations. Inside, two plush sofas faced each other, providing comfortable seating for four. Outside, there was a bench for two drivers, making it a six-seater in total. According to Frau, it was an exceptionally high-quality carriage.
As for why it was currently sitting in my workshop...
"What exactly do you intend to use this mechanism for?"
The Mountain Elves had become obsessed with the suspension system I had built. Once I explained its purpose, they went and "borrowed"—though "extorted" might be a more accurate word—a carriage from Michael.
I had built the suspension because some springs had finally been completed. I had placed a request for them with Howlin Village quite a while ago, and they had notified me of their completion via a small wyvern delivery. I had originally planned to use them for beds or sofas, but the springs that arrived were far larger and stiffer than I had anticipated.
Apparently, if they tried to bend a finished iron rod into a coil, the structural integrity suffered. To solve this, they had to forge the metal into a curved shape from the very beginning. I was told that with their current technology, this was the absolute limit of what they could produce. Since they had gone to the trouble of making them, I wanted to find a use for them.
That was when the idea of suspension hit me. The size of the springs reminded me of the shocks on a car. I tried to replicate the design while recalling a model car I had seen. The shock absorber—the piston part inside the spring—was made of wood. I had my doubts about its durability, but it was only a prototype. For the fluid, I used oil harvested here in the village. It was a precious resource, but I felt the experiment was worth it. Preventing leaks took a bit of effort, but I managed to make it work.
Once it was finished, I wasn't quite sure what to do with it, but that was when the Mountain Elves showed up. Since Howlin Village had sent quite a few springs, we decided to try equipping them to a single vehicle. Once the decision was made, they moved with incredible speed. They roped in Rusty and Frau, and within a few days, they had secured a carriage from Michael’s collection. I had a feeling that if Progenitor-san hadn't been away, they would have helped themselves to his carriage without a second thought.
"The iron springs are heavy, so we can't use too many," the elves noted.
We separated the chassis from the axles and installed the suspension at four points in the front and four in the back, totaling eight locations. From there, we went into a full-scale remodeling frenzy. We lightened the body, expanded the storage compartments, and reinforced the wheels and axles. It felt like I was customizing a toy, though I never expected to be doing it to a full-sized carriage.
The Mountain Elves and I tinkered with it relentlessly. The result?
"My bottom doesn't hurt at all!"
"I’d love to have one of these for myself."
"This will sell. We absolutely must mass-produce it."
Those were the glowing reviews from Frau, Beezel, and the civil official girls. Compared to traditional carriages, the vibrations were significantly dampened, which they appreciated immensely. I took a test ride myself, but I wasn't so sure. It still felt like it shook quite a bit to me. Was the ride quality really that much worse before this? Well, considering the axles used to be bolted directly to the frame, I suppose the improvement was revolutionary.
Incidentally, the carriage was pulled by a centaur resident. Before I could even call for the horses, she had volunteered to pull it herself. In fact, two of them took turns. Currently, the children, with Urza in the lead, were having a blast racing around in the coach.
"...They don't usually drive carriages at that speed, do they?"
When I asked, the onlookers waiting their turn just tilted their heads. It seemed very few of them had actually ridden in a carriage before.
Leaving the carriage testing to the others, I moved on to my next task. First on the list were building blocks for the children born this year. It was a challenge to make them easy to grip while ensuring they were large enough not to be a choking hazard. I rounded off all the corners and used a file to sand them down thoroughly to prevent any splinters. I made several sets of the basic circles, triangles, and squares, along with some longer slats and curved pieces.
Because I was being so meticulous, it took until nightfall to finish four sets. If I hadn't been using the Universal Farming Tool, it would have taken much longer. Outside, the carriage was still running, as the centaurs had brought in relief pullers to keep the test going into the evening. I wondered if they were doing a durability trial. I saw the dwarves attempting to drink sake while riding inside to see if they would spill... but they were fine. They were far too stubborn to let a single drop go to waste, even if they had to swallow their own motion sickness. At least the interior wouldn't get dirty.
The next day, my work turned to chairs. Not just any chair, though—one with curved runners on the legs that allowed it to rock back and forth. I didn't actually know the formal name for it; I had always just called it a "grandfather chair."
"Oh, is that a rocking chair?" someone asked.
So that was the official name. For now, I wanted to check the stability and durability. I sat in it myself, and it seemed sturdy enough. As for how long it would last... I suppose we would only know after years of use. I placed a cushion on the seat, set the Sake Slime on top, and gave it a gentle push. He seemed to wobble happily in response.
"Good, good," I muttered.
He got bored after about five minutes and wobbled away. Figures. Now, the cat had claimed the chair and sat there perfectly still. I wanted to see him rock in it, but he wouldn't budge. Oh well. There didn't seem to be any issues with the design.
Now it was time for the main event. The rocking chair had just been an experiment; what I really wanted to build was a cradle. I had thought about making one several times before. In fact, I had even built a few prototypes. However, the thought of a baby using something I made made me nervous about safety, so I had always scrapped them. But surely it was fine now. I wanted my children to sleep in a cradle their father had made!
I threw myself into the task with renewed enthusiasm. I finished the first one, but... if it tilted more than forty-five degrees, there was a risk of it tipping over. I needed to design it so it would right itself even at sixty, or even ninety degrees...
"What is this heavy cylinder for?" a Mountain Elf asked, looking at my over-engineered base.
Their pure, questioning eyes were painful. After much agonizing, I finished a single unit. I decided to stick to a normal cradle. Overthinking was a bad habit; sometimes, simple was best. I decided to take it to the experts to get their opinion before making any improvements.
I hurried over to Ann's side, only to find my son gallantly standing up on his own while holding onto the furniture.
...Children really do grow up fast.
It was the same story over at Ria's place. They told me they didn't really need a cradle anymore. I suppose I’ll save it for whenever the next child arrives. Apparently, they had been using cradles suspended from the ceiling this whole time.
All that fatherly effort, and I was completely out of sync.
As I sat there dejectedly, the cat, now perched atop the rocking chair, let out a soft meow as if to comfort me.
"Thanks, buddy."