The morning they left the city of Rustera was strangely quiet. Rock was in his shared room at the *Weathervane*, packing his belongings. Not that he had much. Two changes of clothes. Fifteen silver coins in a small pouch. And beside him, the wooden puppet carrying a bag of provisions. (Alright.) Finally, he picked up the envelope Baldo had given him. High-quality paper. A clean white you didn't see in Rustera. He turned it over, but nothing was written on the back. "[curious]...Is it okay if I open this?" Baldo hadn't said "open it" or "don't open it." He'd only said, *"You'll be able to make use of it."* Rock broke the seal. Inside was a single sheet of stationery. The handwriting looked hurried, but the strokes were strong. — *Royal Capital Grancelta, East Cobblestone Street, Galdo Workshop* — "Galdo Workshop..." It wasn't Baldo's handwriting. It belonged to someone else. But the message was clear. *'I'm introducing a young man named Rock. He's a Puppet Master user, skilled in handling wooden puppets. I'd like you to take a look at him.'* Rock read it three times. (He's... introducing me.) Baldo had always been a man of few words. He barely spoke beyond what was necessary. Even when Rock helped him out of that scuffle at the tavern, he hadn't offered a single word of thanks. But... this letter was different. "[whispers]Baldo..." A gentle warmth spread deep in his chest. He left the inn. Rustera's morning market was already bustling. The smell of fresh-baked bread drifted from the stalls. Merchants were setting out fruit. Young men with sleepy faces hauled cargo. "Oh, Rock. Heading out already?" As he passed the *Red Fox Tavern*, the owner, Hark, poked his head out. "[casual]Yeah, well. I'm off to the royal capital." "[surprised]The royal capital!? That's quite a journey. What are you going there for?" "[embarrassed]Well... I'm not entirely sure myself." He gave a wry smile and readjusted the pack on his back. Hark stared intently at Rock's face for a moment, then pulled a small bundle out from under the counter. "[calm]Dried pork. Eat it on the road. It won't spoil." "[surprised]Oh... thank you very much." Hark said nothing, just waved his hand dismissively. (Rustera was a good town.) Rock thought this as he headed for the town's exit. --- The wagon swayed. It was a regular wagon used by merchants. The covered wagon already had several passengers aboard, and he seemed to be the last one, heading for the royal capital of Grancelta. A five-day journey. Rock sat in the very back corner, alongside his wooden puppet. The first day was grasslands. Green as far as the eye could see. Wind-powered waterwheels were visible in the distance. This was the grain belt of the Fornes Kingdom. Every time the wagon passed, the heads of wheat swayed like waves. On the second day, they passed through three small villages. Each was about the same size as Rustera, or a little smaller. Villagers waved at the wagon. One of the merchants shouted a greeting back. The third day. The scenery began to change. The fields thinned out, and stone buildings grew more numerous. The highway widened. The number of travelers increased. Wagons, travelers on foot, soldiers on horseback. The fourth day. In the distance, he saw a wall. "[whispers]...It's huge..." The words slipped out involuntarily. A high stone wall stretched from one end of the horizon to the other. It was incomparable to the defensive wall surrounding Rustera. Beyond it, numerous towers jutted out. Large towers made of stone. "First time, lad?" The merchant next to him grinned. "[embarrassed]Ah, yes." "Grancelta is the largest city in the Fornes Kingdom. A hundred and twenty thousand people live there. Anyone who comes from a small town like Rustera has the same reaction." A hundred and twenty thousand. Rustera had six thousand. (Twenty times...) Even thinking about the numbers, he couldn't really grasp it. --- The fifth day. He passed through the gates of the royal capital, Grancelta. "[excited]Whoa..." Rock couldn't help but exclaim. The moment he passed through the gate, a flood of sound washed over him. The shouts of merchants. The neighing of horses. The hammering of a blacksmith. The sound of wagon wheels clattering on cobblestones. An argument heard from somewhere. Laughter. A child crying. The cobblestone street was wide enough for ten people to walk side-by-side with room to spare. On both sides, wooden and stone buildings stood packed tightly together. Every building was two or three stories high. Numerous signboards jutted out, colorful cloths swaying in the wind. The air was different, too. The smell of bread, the smell of spices, the smell of sweat, the smell of horses. It all mixed together, creating the scent of a city completely different from Rustera. (So this is... the royal capital.) Rock got off the wagon and stood rooted to the spot for a while. None of the passing people spared him a glance. That, in itself, was amazing. In a city of a hundred and twenty thousand, no one cared if a young man stood next to a wooden doll. (Amazing.) Excitement—and at the same time, a cold feeling crept up from the soles of his feet. (Can a D-rank like me really make it here?) But there was no point dwelling on it. Rock took out the envelope and checked the address. "East Cobblestone Street..." --- The East District was a craftsmen's quarter. Blacksmiths, leatherworkers, woodshops, stonemasons. Just walking down the street, he could hear all sorts of work sounds. The clang of hammers, the sound of chisels, the whir of lathes. The air was a mix of metal dust and wood shavings, tickling his nose slightly. Rock got lost three times. Sometimes he couldn't read the signboard letters, other times an alley turned out to be a dead end. Each time, he asked people on the street for directions. A kind bakery mistress even came out of her shop to point the way. "Are you a farmer or something, dear? Traveling with a wooden doll like that." "[embarrassed]Ah, I'm an adventurer..." He started to explain, then stopped. It would just take too long to explain anyway. Eventually, on a quiet alley one street over, he found the workshop. The signboard had only the words 'Galdo Workshop' branded onto it. No decorations. Just letters. But the letters were bold, and just looking at them gave the impression that a highly skilled craftsman worked here. The building itself was modest. A low, single-story stone structure. It had only one large window. The inside was dim and hard to see. Rock took a deep breath. (Alright.) He was about to knock on the door—when a voice came from inside. "[cold]It's open." A low, hoarse voice. Rock gently pushed the door open. It was dim inside. The forge's furnace glowed a faint red. Tools covered an entire wall. Hammers, files, chisels. All of them well-worn, gleaming dully. Metal shavings and wood chips were scattered on the floor. The smell of iron, oil, and burnt charcoal. And standing before the furnace, a single man. (...He's huge.) Rock looked up. The man was large. Both in width and height. Goltz from the armor shop in Rustera was big, but this man was just as imposing. His gray hair was tied back carelessly, and stubble covered the lower half of his face. His arms were thick. Scarred arms. Most of all, his gaze was sharp. The flames of the furnace flickered, reflected in his eyes. "[nervous]Um, excuse me... Are you Mr. Galdo?" The man turned slowly. "[cold]That's right." His voice was low and curt. "[embarrassed]Uh, I came here with an introduction from Mr. Baldo in Rustera. My name is Rock. Here's the letter of introduction..." He held out the envelope. Galdo took it wordlessly. He broke the seal and pulled out the stationery. He moved closer to the furnace light and read. Silence. Rock swallowed hard. The only sound was the crackling of charcoal in the furnace. (What is he thinking?) Galdo's expression didn't change at all. His eyebrows didn't move. Neither did his mouth or his eyes. He just seemed to be following the words—or so it appeared. Finally, Galdo looked up. His eyes fixed intently on Rock. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to Rock's back. He was looking at the wooden puppet. "[cold]That it?" "[surprised]Huh? Oh, yes!" Rock hurriedly lowered the wooden puppet from his back. He repositioned it, turning it to face Galdo. The clumsy smile was illuminated by the furnace light. Galdo stepped away from the furnace. Heavy footsteps. The floor creaked. Standing before Rock, he silently reached out a hand. A large, gnarled hand. His fingers touched the wooden puppet's chest. A crack. It was a scar from their time in Rustera. He'd tried to repair it with materials from Goltz's shop, but the mark remained. Galdo's finger traced the crack. "[cold]...Ironbark Oak, huh." "[surprised]Huh, you can tell?" Galdo didn't answer. His fingers continued tracing the puppet's joints. Shoulder, elbow, wrist. Carefully, repeatedly, like a doctor examining an injury. Rock watched, holding his breath. (What's going to happen?) Anxiety slowly spread within him. "[hopeful]Um... what do you think?" The words came out before he could stop them. Galdo's fingers stopped. His expressionless eyes turned to Rock. "[cold]Leave it." "[surprised]...Huh?" "Come back in three days." Saying only that, Galdo turned his back. "[confused]Huh, w-wait a minute! What are you—" But Galdo was already back in front of the furnace. He picked up a hammer, poised to resume his work. His back seemed to say the conversation was over. Rock stood there, dumbfounded. (What is with this guy...) He had absolutely no idea what was going to be done. No praise, no criticism. Just the single word, "Leave it." He looked down at the wooden puppet. The clumsy smile was looking back at him. Rock gently set the puppet down on the floor. "[whispers]...I'm counting on you." He wasn't sure himself if he was saying it to the puppet or to Galdo. --- The Adventurers' Guild, Cardina Headquarters. The guild in the royal capital was incomparable to the Rustera branch. A three-story stone building. It had three front entrances, with adventurers constantly coming and going. The ceiling of the entrance hall soared high overhead. Multiple bulletin boards were lined up, plastered with request forms. There were so many people. Rock looked around as he waited in line at the reception desk. Warriors with swords on their backs, mages in robes, an elf with a bow, a dwarf axe-wielder. Colorful equipment he never saw in Rustera. Both weapons and armor were of high quality. (Everyone looks so strong.) Feeling out of place, he shrank into himself a little. "[businesslike]Next." He stepped up to the counter. A young female receptionist looked at him with a tired expression. "[casual]I've come from the Rustera branch. My name is Rock. I'd like to register with the capital's guild." He presented his adventurer's card. The receptionist checked it and copied the information into a ledger. Her movements were efficient. "[monotone]D-rank, Puppet Master... Registration complete. Congratulations on registering with the capital's guild." Her tone was flat. Rock gave a wry smile. (Well, I guess that's how it is for a D-rank.) He headed for the bulletin board. He flipped through the request forms one by one. **[C-rank]** Subjugation of a Griffon subspecies. Reward: Five gold coins. **[B-rank]** Investigation of underground ruins. Reward: Ten gold coins plus a success bonus. **[C-rank]** Extermination of a bandit group. Reward: Three gold coins. All of them were currently out of Rock's league. (Are there any others?) He found a small request form posted in a corner. **[D-rank]** Gathering of Verde Grass. Fifty bundles. Reward: Four silver coins. "[relieved]...This is it." It was a familiar job. He'd done it many times