Arthur was eight years old. He was the CEO of a multi-industry conglomerate (Glass, Sanitation, Games, Transport, Bedding). He had a personal net worth rivaling some small countries.
He was busy.
So when his father called him into the study for a "Serious Talk," Arthur was annoyed.
"Father, the steam pressure on the Mark II Wagon is fluctuating. I need to redesign the valves. Make it quick."
Duke Kaelen looked nervous. He exchanged a glance with Duchess Elena.
"Arthur, my boy," The Duke started. "You are... brilliant. A genius. But you spend all your time with iron and grease."
"And money," Arthur added.
"And money," The Duchess agreed. "But you are growing up. The King... he suggested that it is time you expanded your horizons."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "He wants me to build him a castle?"
"No," The Duke coughed. "He wants you to go to school."
.....
"School?" Arthur laughed. It was a cold, dry sound. "The Royal Academy? Where they teach that the world is flat and that illness is caused by 'bad ghosts'? I would rather eat sand."
"They don't teach that!" The Duke protested. "Mostly. Look, it's about making friends! Peers! Future allies!"
"I have employees," Arthur said. "They are efficient allies."
"Arthur," his mother said gently. "It is a Royal Decree. Princess Vivian will be attending. All the noble children will be there."
"Inefficient," Arthur turned to leave. "I will send a letter declining. I have a railroad to plan."
.....
The next day, King Roland himself visited the estate. He found Arthur in the factory, covered in oil.
"I hear you are refusing my Academy," The King said, amused.
"The curriculum is obsolete, Your Majesty," Arthur said, tightening a bolt. "I cannot learn from men who think lightning is just the Sky God sneezing."
"True," The King nodded. "You are likely smarter than the professors. But... the Academy has something you don't."
Arthur paused. "What?"
"The Royal Archives," The King whispered, leaning in. "Beneath the school. Thousands of years of ancient scrolls. Lost civilizations. Blueprints from the Age of Myths. Rumors of... automata powered by mana cores."
Arthur dropped his wrench.
Automata? Mana Cores? Robots.
"The library is restricted," The King continued, dangling the bait. "Only students and faculty have access. If you attend... I will give you a Key."
Arthur's mind raced. If I can analyze ancient mana engines, I can hybridize them with steam. I could build... a Mecha.
Arthur stood up. He wiped his hands on a rag.
"When does the semester start?"
The King grinned. "Next week. Pack your bags, Professor... I mean, Student Arthur."
End of Chapter 19