A few days had passed since the wooden dummy explosion incident at the training grounds. Kenji was gradually growing accustomed to the fortress's atmosphere. The time he woke up, the creaking of the hallways, the busy hours in the dining hall—he was getting used to it all. Though getting used to it was one thing; whether he'd actually found a place to belong was an entirely different matter. Sumigarama-tei. That was the name of the communal dining hall where everyone in the fortress ate. Every morning, noon, and night, when the bell rang three times, nearly a hundred fortress residents would stream in. Long tables were lined up in rows, and the voices of warriors clashed with the clinking of dishes, creating a unique cacophony. Kenji walked slowly through the dining hall, holding his tray with both hands. Today's menu was rich forest mushroom stew and black bread. Beside the pot, Hana, the head cook, wielded a large ladle, scooping stew evenly into bowls. A woman in her late thirti