[Book 2 Completed] Industrial Mage: Modernizing a Magical World [Kingdom Building LitRPG] 19 – Patents & Unexpected Guest

The following morning—having slept soundly for the first ti in weeks, Ethan donned his finest attire: polished leather boots, a crisp linen shirt, and a heavy furred cloak that denoted his noble status. Done, he rode on his carriage toward the structure that housed the Inventors Guild, a guild tasked with maintaining a record of inventions and ensuring no one infringed on another’s creation.

Inside the Inventor’s Guild, polished marble floors reflected the intricate stained-glass windows, and the air held a faint scent of parchnt and ink. Given his reputation—or more like Theo’s reputation—he was ushered into a spacious office, richly furnished with plush armchairs and a massive oak desk that groaned under a stack of scrolls.

Behind the desk sat Ivy, the Guild Branch Leader. Her silver hair was pulled back in a tight bun, her eyes as sharp as the diamond ring glinting on her finger. As Ethan entered, she rose with a practiced smile. “Lord Theodore,” she acknowledged with a curt nod, “to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Although he was sure she wasn’t too pleased eting him, he didn’t bother with that. Theo’s reputation preceded him, and he couldn’t quite do anything about that. What he could do, however, was change others’ perception of him through actions. After all, actions speak louder than words.

“Lady Ivy,” Ethan said, smiling, “I’ve co to register a new patent—a soap unlike any other.”

Lady Ivy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Soap is hardly a novelty, Lord Theodore, I wonder why you would want a patent. Several guilds already have patents on several such concoctions.”

Ethan’s smile faltered slightly. “With all due respect, Lady Ivy,” he began, “their offering is a utilitarian block at best. This,” he gestured towards a satchel he carried, “is a revelation. A luxury. This is an experience. It cleanses, it nourishes, it leaves the skin feeling like velvet.”

Ivy scoffed. “High praise for a re bar of soap, wouldn’t you say?”

“May I offer a demonstration, Lady Ivy?”

Lady Ivy leaned back in her chair, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. Intrigued, Ivy conceded. “Bold claims, Lord Theodore. Let’s see if this ‘experience’ lives up.”

Ethan reached into his satchel and retrieved a beautifully wrapped bar of his soap. It was a pale pink color, infused with the subtle scent of mountain wildflowers.

Intrigued, Ivy accepted the bar and retreated to a private chamber, her skepticism evident in the way she held the bar at arm’s length. Monts later, a series of muffled yelps and startled gasps echoed through the room. Ethan suppressed a smile.

On Earth, patents were a complex web of legalese, protecting the rights of inventors for a limited ti. Detailed descriptions and drawings were filed, reviewed by examiners, and granted a monopoly for a limited ti.

One could imagine a competition where soone—let’s call him John—invented sothing aweso. John wanted to make money off his brilliant invention, but he worried soone would steal his idea and undercut him. That’s where patents ca in. Each country had a patent office, like a high-security library for inventions. An inventor filed a patent application, which was basically a detailed instruction manual for their creation. Think blueprints, schematics, the whole shebang. This application went to a patent examiner, a brainiac who checked if the invention was: new, nobody had ever done it before, not even a whisper of it in so dusty old patent docunt. Useful, it actually worked and did sothing beneficial. Non-obvious, it wasn’t just a mash-up of existing things. There was a genuine inventive leap involved. If the inventor passed the examiner’s test, they got a patent, which basically a governnt-issued golden ticket. This ticket gave them a monopoly on their invention for a set ti, usually 20 years. In that period, nobody could make, use, sell, or import their invention without permission. The patent holder could sue infringers, and that was a party nobody wanted to attend. Here was the catch: to get the monopoly, the inventor had to reveal everything about their invention in the patent application. That’s right, the whole world got to see how their brilliant invention worked. It seed crazy, right? Well, the idea was that by sharing knowledge, innovation accelerated for everyone. Plus, after 20 years, anyone could make the invention, which could drive down prices and benefit consurs.

Patents were a political hot potato. Big corporations loved them because they protected billion-dollar inventions. Small inventors sotis hated them because patenting could be expensive, and legal battles over infringent could be brutal. There was also the issue of countries playing patent politics, strategically using patents to give their dostic industries an edge.

Here, in this world of magic, however, things were different. The process of securing exclusive rights to one’s inventions was handled by the renowned Inventor’s Guild. Rather than relying on the cumberso legalese of patents, the Guild employed an intricate system of enchantnts and divination magic.

When an inventor wished to protect their creation, they would first need to submit a comprehensive docuntation package to the Guild. This included detailed schematics, functioning prototypes or models, and a thorough written explanation of the invention’s purpose, components, and operations. The Guild’s scribes would ticulously transcribe all of this onto parchnts using special inks. Once the transcription was complete, the parchnts underwent an elaborate consecration ritual perford by the Inventor Guild’s [Mages]. Powerful divination spells were intricately woven into the docunted designs, creating a potent magical imprint unique to that invention. This imprint served as an indelible record, but also established a supernatural “claim” over the creation’s existence.

If soone then attempted to construct a product too functionally similar to the sanctioned invention, the imprint would trigger an alarm and the guilds’ hired n would be upon the unfortunate soul trying to recreate it.

mbership in the Guild granted other privileges too. Exclusive rights to an invention marks—insignias that could be etched into certified products to prove authenticity.

However, the Guild’s services ca at a steep price. Expensive Guild fees, plus the resources and manpower required for transcription and consecration, ant only the most resourceful or valued inventors could secure protection. Peddlers of small and trivial tricks were unfortunately left vulnerable to magical infringent. It wasn’t perfect, of course. So skilled [Mages] could potentially break through the enchantnts, replicating the invention with enough effort.

For example, Ethan had created soap even though patents for soap already existed. The difference was that Ethan genuinely knew for a fact that they were inferior and not even minutely close to what he’d made—more like plagiarized from Earth. Divination worked weirdly.

But for the most part, it worked.

His musings were interrupted by a flustered Lady Ivy erging from the chamber. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and her skin seed to glow. “This… this is incredible, Lord Theodore. My skin feels… heavenly! This... this is sorcery!” she exclaid, her voice a mixture of disbelief and awe.

“Not sorcery, Lady Ivy, simply the magic of science... well, alchemy.”

Ivy ran a hand over her face, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. “My skin,” she murmured, “it feels... different. Smoother, sohow.”

“See? This is what I an. This isn’t just soap, Lady Ivy. This is a new era of personal hygiene.”

“Indeed. I must admit, I underestimated you. However, registering a new soap will require a significant fee.” Ivy contemplated him for a mont, then a sly smile spread across her face. “How much for a lifeti supply of this... miracle?”

Ethan chuckled. He’d anticipated so resistance, but outright bribery? Since when did that beca a norm? Then again, knowing Theo, he wouldn’t have minded, thus she’s asking in the first place.

“I’m kidding, of course.” Ivy chuckled, backing off in case Ethan took it the wrong way.

Ethan ntally shrugged. “Na your price.”

“Ten thousand aurums.”

Ethan’s face twitched. Ten thousand aurum was a small fortune. He sighed, ntally calculating the potential profits. “Very well,” he said, pushing a heavy pouch across the table.

Ivy snatched it with a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “Excellent. Consider your invention registered, Lord Theodore. The Guild will ensure your ‘soap’ enjoys the protection it deserves.”

After talking about the wheelbarrow and getting it patented as well, Ethan rose with a bittersweet taste in his mouth. The future of his soap empire was secure, but the exorbitant fee left a sting. Yet, as he mounted his carriage, a new thought struck him. Perhaps, he mused, a position within the Inventors’ Guild wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Soone had to keep these bureaucrats in check.

***

After securing the patent, Ethan found himself buried in paperwork. A satisfied smile stretched across his face as he cracked open a wax seal, revealing letters from his “investors.” Ducart, Kinsey, and Lykren.

“Lord Theodore. I, Lykren, am most impressed with your ingenuity and see imnse potential in your invention of soap. We would be honored to offer our assistance in the mass production and distribution of your…”

The letters from Ducart and Kinsey were rather similar. Ethan chuckled. These “investors”... it seed he’d succeeded. He’d played them masterfully.

With the combined financial backing of these powerhouses, Ethan’s operation whirred into action. n and won were recruited and trained. Soap was made, and soon mass-production was in motion.

The real challenge, however, lay in marketing.

Ethan knew a simple sales pitch wouldn’t do. He needed to create a brand; a feeling of luxury associated with his soap. He commissioned a renowned artist to craft a series of advertisents depicting elven maidens with impossibly smooth skin, all thanks to the “miracle soap.” Free samples, delicately wrapped in silk paper and delivered to every noble household in the neighboring towns and distant cities, would further fuel the hype.

He wasn’t naive though. At 120 aurums a bar, his soap would be a premium quality soap sold cheap. The Alchemist’s Guild and tower wouldn’t be happy.

Regardless, he strategically partnered with high-end bath houses and salons, offering exclusive deals and in-store demonstrations. Pampered by the luxurious lather and the promise of a radiant complexion, the wealthy couldn’t resist.

For the burgeoning middle class, Ethan employed a different tactic. He introduced smaller, travel-sized versions of the soap at a more accessible price point. These were strategically placed near popular markets and public baths, accompanied by captivating displays showcasing the cleaning power of the soap. Word of mouth, fueled by the undeniable results and a touch of magical intrigue at the prospect of the soap being able to ward off the Blight, spread like wildfire.

Derrick had returned with a carriage full of... stuff—Ethan didn’t quite know what that stuff was as Derrick had refused to show it to him. When asked to teach, the man had outright refused, saying he’d do so once he was ready to teach Ethan. Ethan wasn’t happy with it, but Derrick had reassured him that he’d been preparing—again—so “stuff”. After their preparation, Derrick would start teaching Ethan.

Regardless, the once-skeptical Lady Ivy was also a loyal custor now, and she’d long since beco a brand ambassador, raving about the soap’s transformative properties at every social gathering. The woman had quite the connections.

That wasn’t it, whenever he could get a chance, Ethan would practice his magic and skills. [Magic Sensitivity] had leveled up to Level 4 along with [Magic Perception], and [ditation]. Ethan hadn’t been slacking off on his [Swordsmanship], either, and he was proud to say that he was a Level 03 Novice now.

A level 3, but still a novice. Ethan would love to level the skills faster, but it wasn’t quite possible as he’d been rather busy.

...

Ethan couldn’t help but grin as he ducked into Artos’s bustling forge. The clang of hamr on tal was a welco change from the hustle and bustle of his own operation in the workshop that’d taken form and soap. Artos looked up at him with a soot-streaked face, his grin widening when he saw Ethan.

“Lord Theodore! Co in, co in! Just in ti to see a marvel of engineering take shape.” Artos bood, wiping his brow with a thick, leather-clad arm. He gestured towards a corner of the forge where a sturdy wooden fra, unlike anything Ethan had ever seen, sat proudly. One large wheel, identical to the prototypes they’d toiled over, was firmly secured to the fra with gleaming tal axles.

“Behold!” Artos exclaid. “The first production model of the Wheelbarrow!”

Ethan whistled. It was a beauty. The wood was smooth and polished, the tal expertly crafted. “Good work.”

“We incorporated so of your feedback,” Artos said, his voice gruff with pride. “Made the handles a hair thicker for a better grip, and reinforced the base to handle even the heaviest loads.”

Ethan ran a hand along the smooth wood, then hefted one of the handles. The balance felt perfect. “Artos, this is fantastic! You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, my lord,” Artos chuckled. “Though, speaking of which, that little trip to the Inventor’s Guild went smoothly, I presu?”

Ethan grinned. “Like butter. They were impressed. Patent’s secured.”

A wave of relief washed over Artos. The patent was crucial. It ant no one could copy their design and undercut their prices. Now, they could truly capitalize on the wheelbarrow.

“Excellent!” Artos slapped Ethan on the back, nearly sending him sprawling. Realizing what he’d done, Artos stepped back, paling slightly. Ethan waved him off, and Artos chuckled nervously, asking, “so, are we in business then?”

“We are indeed. I’ve already secured pre-orders from a few local rchants. They’re eager to get their hands on these.”

The news sparked a lively discussion. They talked about production schedules, pricing strategies, and potential future improvents. Artos even had a few sketches for a collapsible version that could be easily transported.

The man was talented, alright.

As Ethan left the forge, he couldn’t help but think. He had his soap empire (in the making) and now, with Artos, a burgeoning wheelbarrow business. The future, once uncertain, was starting to shine brightly. With his soap finally hitting the market and money slowly coming in, Ethan was ready to face the tax collectors, but he wasn’t ready to pay them back yet.

It was then, the next day, he received an unexpected guest.