By grinding Shadowveil Ore into powder and blending it with other materials, one could produce the primary medium used to draw intermediate alert magic arrays.
As the Elven Saintess, Illya was still young in age, yet she had already immersed herself deeply in the study of magic arrays.
Ron André had only requested a simple alert-type array—something that was trivially easy for Illya.
Using Mage Hand to trace the outline of the array across the ground, Illya's expression was focused, her mind fully absorbed.
Whenever it came to magic arrays, she was always able to maintain absolute concentration.
"Is this type of magic material mined in very small quantities?" Ron asked casually from the side, having nothing else to do.
"'Many' and 'few' are always relative concepts," Illya replied matter-of-factly, as she always did when discussing magic arrays.
"For example, the main material—Shadowveil Ore—is actually a companion stone found deep within veins of certain common ores."
"In the Bondelers Mountains, those common ore veins are fairly widespread, but their companion stone, Shadowveil Ore, is produced in much smaller quantities."
"Of course, if dozens of such veins were excavated, the total output of Shadowveil Ore would still be considerable."
"But that 'considerable' amount is only meaningful from a mage's perspective."
"If you wanted to popularize magic arrays among tens of thousands of ordinary people, then the quantity would be far from sufficient."
Such deep-seated obsession…
Hearing Illya's final remark, Ron couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Illya's greatest wish was to bring magic arrays to the common people.
But the dissemination of magic-array knowledge, material scarcity, and deeper class-based barriers were all immovable obstacles in the way.
Ron admired her ideals, but he wasn't particularly interested in such thankless endeavors.
If it came to improving the lives of ordinary people, relying on the plants provided by the system might actually be more practical.
He didn't dwell on it further.
Ron had never been an especially ambitious person—being happy himself and making those around him happy was enough.
After helping Illya finish inscribing the alert magic arrays around the land, Ron returned to the prayer complex and met the newly arrived nuns.
Upon confirming that the newcomers were, once again, all middle-aged and elderly women, Ron boarded the carriage with a sigh of resignation, together with Illya and Sylvie, and headed to the factory on the outskirts.
There, he handed twenty Heartvines to several team foremen and personally taught them how to use them.
Holding one of the Heartvine's vines, Ron guided it to extend dozens of vines, each more than ten meters long.
These vines reached into piles of Element Cards, accurately attaching suction cups to the specific cards Ron needed.
In just over ten seconds, a complete deck of Element Cards was neatly assembled.
If this same task had been done manually, it would have required at least ten workers coordinating skillfully.
The factory workers stared wide-eyed at the scene before them, utterly stunned.
Although this world was filled with battle aura and magic, such things were far removed from the lives of common laborers.
For many of them, witnessing something so miraculous up close was likely a first in their lives.
Illya stood nearby. At first, she hadn't paid much attention, her gaze drifting as she mentally planned the next set of magic arrays.
But once Ron took out the Heartvine, even her attention was drawn to it.
That was all, though—nothing more.
After instructing the workers to begin practicing, Ron took Illya around the factory perimeter and finished setting up the alert magic arrays.
With that done, the factory and the land outside the city were now secure.
"How about dinner tonight? We could invite Edith as well," Ron suggested kindly as the three of them returned to the carriage.
Illya sat opposite Ron, her long legs neatly together and slightly angled to the left, the flowing lines faintly outlined beneath her long dress.
She shook her head, studying Ron carefully before speaking:
"Ron André, there is something I must make clear to you. The Elven Saintess does not intermarry with other races."
"..."
Ron froze, the words feeling oddly familiar.
"Edith admires you greatly as a friend. If she has ever behaved in a way that caused misunderstanding, I apologize on her behalf," Illya said, bowing slightly.
Ron couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "I don't have that kind of intention toward Edith…"
"Then I must have misunderstood you," Illya replied. Though her words said so, her eyes clearly suggested she was simply giving Ron a way out.
"Dinner won't be necessary. I still need to return to the research lab."
"I'll take you back to the academy," Ron said, pressing a hand to his forehead, feeling helpless.
A few minutes later, after seeing Illya off at the academy gates, Ron and Sylvie continued back toward Ron's Wonderful Flower Shop.
On the way, Sylvie suddenly spoke up:
"Ron André, there is something you must be cautious about."
"Hm? What is it?"
"The new employee, Yuna—I had people look into her background."
"Although it appears clean, with no major issues in her past, there are small details that feel… unusual, and warrant further investigation."
"For the time being, please be careful."
Ron raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected the prayer complex to have investigative capabilities.
He'd always treated it as a source of free mage labor and hadn't paid attention to its other functions.
Ron didn't reveal Yuna's true identity, simply nodding to show he understood.
Even without Sylvie's warning, he had never fully lowered his guard around Yuna.
Thanks to the system watching his back, however, he wasn't overly tense.
After returning to the flower shop, Ron stopped by the Tabletop-Themed Tavern next door.
There were two or three scattered customers—most likely drawn in by Yuna's cuteness—sitting at the bar.
Ron watched for a moment as the customers drank what might have been alcohol or fruit juice, sticking out their tongues and frowning, yet still forcing smiles in front of Yuna.
Yuna put on a pitiful, delicate expression while serving concoctions she herself only dared to sip once.
Ron's eye twitched.
Once the customers left, Ron sat at the bar and knocked on the counter as a reminder.
"Don't sell things randomly."
"Relax. I drink everything myself first," Yuna replied with a roll of her eyes.
"And those guys were all perverts like you—none of them are any good."
"Hey, don't slander people casually," Ron said helplessly, then asked offhandedly,
"Did anyone go upstairs this afternoon?"
"No," Yuna replied irritably. "What's there to manage in this lousy shop anyway?"
"Other taverns have drinking companions, entertainers—some even sleep with customers."
"What do you have here? You expect your dear aunt to sell her body?"
Ron didn't bother explaining. He wasn't even sure the tavern would be profitable himself.
And making money had never been its primary purpose.
"This place is just something I opened for fun. Whether there are customers or not doesn't matter."
"And if there are no customers, aren't you more relaxed? You're on a fixed salary—why ask so many questions?"
With that, Ron stood and headed back to the flower shop.
"Come on. Let's go eat dinner."