Chapter 37: The King’s Back Pain and the Ultimate Cushion
A chair is not a symbol of authority.
It is a physical device meant to support the buttocks and the lumbar spine.
When that fundamental principle is forgotten, tragedy follows.
“…Ah, a-ahhh, that hurts…!”
A painful groan echoed through the library.
Being carried in was a massive figure laid atop an ornate stretcher.
It was His Majesty Louis Lutetia, the king of our country.
“Your Majesty!?
What has happened to you?”
I rushed over in shock.
The brother-in-law who normally looked as though he wore armor made of muscle was now trembling like a newborn fawn.
Cold sweat poured down his face, and he clutched his lower back, completely unable to move.
“…Sorry, Eliana.
I messed up…”
“Was it the battlefield?
An assassin?”
“No…
The throne.”
“…Pardon?”
“When I tried to sit on the throne…
My back went crack.”
It was a slipped back.
Acute lower back pain.
The king who could defeat magical beasts barehanded had been rendered combat-ineffective by the simple act of sitting down.
“Heh heh heh…
As expected, a mere mortal could not comprehend the ‘heights’ of that throne.”
A familiar, affected voice came from behind us.
It was the architect, Leonardo.
Once again, he stood there in a flamboyant fluorescent pink mantle, looking smug.
“Lord Leonardo…
You wouldn’t happen to be the cause of this, would you?”
I asked in a low voice.
“The cause?
How rude.
I merely designed a throne befitting a king’s dignity.”
He produced a single photograph.
A magically recorded image of the newly created throne.
The material was obsidian.
The backrest was sharp like a sword piercing the heavens, and the seat was nothing more than a diagonally cut slab of rock.
There was zero cushioning.
Rather than sitting, it looked like something one clung to on a cliff face.
“I call it the ‘Throne of the Precipice.’
A structure that demands constant tension and perfect posture.
It conveys the message that a king must never seek comfort.”
“…Are you an idiot?”
I spat the words out instantly.
“The human body stiffens under constant tension.
Forcing an unnatural posture in that state naturally puts stress on the joints.
Are you trying to kill His Majesty?”
“For the sake of beauty, physical pain is trivial!”
“Do not underestimate back pain!
The waist is the body’s core.
If it breaks, one cannot swing a sword, write documents, and the nation itself will stagnate!”
I looked at His Majesty on the stretcher.
He nodded tearfully.
“Eliana is right…
That thing makes my thighs cramp just by sitting…
Please, help me…”
“Leave it to me.”
I rolled up my sleeves.
At this rate, my brother-in-law would be ruined.
Which would mean more work for Claude.
That was absolutely unacceptable.
“What His Majesty needs is not ‘dignity,’ but ‘recovery.’
Lord Leonardo, allow me to show you true ‘functional beauty.’”
I began my preparations.
My goal was to recreate that legendary cushion from my previous life—the one said to ‘ruin people.’
The materials were already available.
First, the cover.
I used leftover fabric from the dress, the Tensan silk.
It was highly elastic, unbelievably soft, and strong enough not to tear no matter how much it deformed.
Next, the filling.
Normally, one would use foam beads, but plastic did not exist in this world.
Instead, I used dried beans.
Small, round beans I had stockpiled in bulk during the logistics revolution.
“…Now, I’ll apply magic.”
I placed my hand over the sack of beans.
“Target, bean surfaces.”
“Effect, reduction of friction coefficient.”
“—《Super Lubrication: Ultra Smooth》!”
This was an applied form of my 《Clean》 magic.
By smoothing out microscopic irregularities, the beans would flow like water against each other.
The result was a fluid smoother than sand and lighter than air.
I packed these ‘magic beans’ tightly into the silk bag.
A massive white lump.
Visually, it looked like an enormous mochi.
“It’s complete.”
I placed it beside His Majesty.
“…What is that?
A giant trash bag?”
Leonardo sneered.
“You’ll understand once you sit.
Now then, Your Majesty, please slowly entrust your body to it.”
With the help of the knights, I moved His Majesty onto the cushion.
“Ugh…
It hurts, it hurts…”
He cautiously lowered his weight.
Zububub…
There was no sound.
His body sank down.
Yet it did not bottom out.
Countless tiny beads flowed to match his body’s contours, enveloping him completely.
The curve of his waist, the weight of his hips, the breadth of his back.
Everything was supported evenly across surfaces, perfectly dispersing pressure.
“…Huh?”
His Majesty froze.
The agony on his face shifted into blank astonishment.
“…It doesn’t hurt?”
“It’s designed to reduce strain on the waist to zero.
It should feel as though you’re floating on a cloud.”
“O-ohhh…”
He sank even deeper, letting his full weight rest on it.
The cushion deformed further, supporting his back like a reclining chair.
“Oooooohhh…”
A sound like his soul leaving his body escaped his lips.
“…I’m melting.”
He murmured.
“My back…
My muscles…
They’re loosening…
What is this, magic?
No…
This is… my mother’s womb…?”
The mighty king was buried in a giant white cushion, wearing the blissful expression of an infant.
He was completely ruined.
“W-What…?”
Leonardo’s eyes went wide.
“It’s just a bag!
No ornamentation, no sculpture!
You call something so shapeless beautiful!?”
“It is beautiful precisely because it has no fixed shape.”
I stated firmly.
“It changes form depending on the person who sits on it, providing the most suitable comfort for them.
This is the ultimate custom-made design.
Function creating form—the pinnacle of design.”
“…Function creating form…”
Leonardo staggered back in shock.
It was the exact opposite of his philosophy.
Yet before him lay a king sinking into bliss.
The persuasive power was overwhelming.
“…I’ve lost.”
Leonardo dropped to his knees.
“My obsidian throne rejected the king.
But your bag embraced him…
As an architect, I admit that I stole comfort from the people who used my creations.”
He bit his lip in frustration.
At least he seemed to have learned something.
“Eliana!
This is excellent!”
His Majesty shouted from within the cushion.
“I’ve decided!
From today on, I shall conduct my duties right here!
I’m not moving another step!”
“That will not be happening.”
I replied immediately.
“This is a library, not an office.
I will give you the cushion, so please take it home.”
“No!
If I move it, the shape might change!
I’ll sleep here!”
“No.
You’re in the way.”
A sulking king.
Flustered knights.
A stunned architect.
Once again, my peaceful library had descended into chaos.
I glanced down and saw Run staring intently at the hem of Leonardo’s mantle—the fluttering pink fabric.
Drool dripped from its mouth.
(…Run, that one is not food.)
I warned it silently and let out a deep sigh.
The back pain might be cured, but it seemed I had infected the king with a new illness—sloth.
If this continued, I would lose my place to slack off.
I needed to find a way to politely escort His Majesty home, and fast.
But behind all that commotion, something was happening to Run at my feet.
Signs of molting.
And the wings on its back were clearly larger than before.
I had not noticed yet.