When I stepped out of the medical wing, the mid-afternoon sun was beating down on the cobblestones.
The academy grounds were as chaotic as ever.
Bandaged students milled about, while teachers hurried between buildings, some leading groups of pupils and others clutching stacks of documents. A long line snaked away from the medical wing’s entrance, likely filled with those seeking treatment for minor injuries.
I left the scene behind and headed toward the Main School Building.
"Lord Rai, what is this business you mentioned?" Lene asked curiously as she walked beside me.
"I have a quick errand in the workshop district."
The Royal Capital Astrea featured a dedicated district for workshops.
While the smithies and alchemy labs near the city gates catered to general adventurers, there was a separate district specifically for academy personnel.
Magic tool production, smithing, alchemy—experts from every field resided there permanently, crafting equipment and items to aid in Labyrinth Conquest or providing technical guidance to the students.
Conquering a labyrinth wasn't achieved through swords and magic alone.
The maintenance and enhancement of gear, the brewing of consumables, the research and development of specialized Magic Tools—it was only with this behind-the-scenes support that students could safely descend into the depths.
In the game, I’d relied on this place from start to finish.
From upgrading gear at the smithy to brewing high-tier Recovery Potions through alchemy, and later developing convenient items at the Magic Tool Research Institute, there were few moments during a playthrough where I didn't find myself in this district.
Thinking back on those memories, I stepped onto the direct Teleportation Magic Circle.
White light flashed before my eyes, and a heartbeat later, I was standing under a clear blue sky.
Workshops of various sizes lined both sides of the stone street. High-pitched metallic clangs echoed from the smithies, and iridescent light leaked from the windows of the alchemy labs. Strange devices and prototypes were piled haphazardly in front of the magic tool shops, while craftsmen and researchers busily shuffled about, some alone and others trailing groups of students.
"It’s incredible," Lene whispered.
"Yeah. It’s a proper craftsman’s town."
I nodded in agreement and walked straight down the street. We passed several artisans and students before my destination finally came into view.
Krausel Workshop—the name was written in simple characters on a weathered wooden sign.
"Is this... the workshop run by Rio-san’s grandfather?"
"Yeah."
It was a research facility famous even within the capital. This was the home of Albert Krausel, the legendary figure who had laid the foundation for modern Magic Civilization.
It looked exactly as it did in the game.
Compared to the other workshops lining the street, this building felt different. Most of the surrounding structures had been hastily erected over the past year to keep up with the Labyrinth Conquest; many looked like little more than precarious stacks of timber.
This workshop, however, stood in stark contrast.
Its stone walls were worn by years of wind and rain, faded in patches. The roof tiles were ancient, and the ink on the sign had blurred over the decades. It looked as though it had been rooted to this spot forever, possessing a quiet, settled dignity.
"Lord Rai, what brings you here?"
Lene tilted her head, but before I could answer—
"What the hell! You didn't have to say it like that!"
A girl’s scream echoed from inside the workshop.
I stopped in my tracks. A moment later, I heard a calm, elderly voice respond.
"Rio... Please, listen. I only meant... I wanted to—"
It sounded like a heated argument. Just as the thought crossed my mind, the front door burst open with a resounding bang.
"Fine! Whatever!"
A familiar girl came storming out.
Leather goggles were perched on her head, and a massive backpack—one taller than her—was strapped to her shoulders. She wore a white lab coat over her uniform, her dark brown ponytail swaying violently as she clutched a small toolbox. She spun around at the threshold and shouted one last time.
"Gramps... I hate you! I hate you so much!"
She spat out the words and sprinted toward us.
Rio blurred past Lene and me like a gust of wind, never once looking back as she disappeared down the street. She ran as if she couldn't stand to be in that spot for a single second longer.
Silence fell over the street.
I stood in front of the workshop, staring in the direction she had gone. Was I too late? the thought flickered through my mind.
"...Rio-san seemed very angry," Lene noted softly.
"Yeah. I guess so."
I turned my attention to the entrance.
An old man stood there, staring blankly at the path his granddaughter had taken. His dull green eyes were hollow. He rested a hand against the doorframe and muttered, "That’s not it, Rio..." with a look of pure anguish. He didn't look like a world-renowned genius at that moment.
He just looked like an old man who had been rejected by his grandchild, standing there helplessly because he didn't know how to fix it.
"...Lord Krausel."
When I spoke, the man’s shoulders trembled. He seemed to finally notice us, blinking behind his round glasses before his brow furrowed with awkwardness.
"Forgive me. You’ve seen something quite unsightly."
"No, please..." Lene replied, her voice tinged with hesitation.
I looked past him into the workshop. Inside, workbenches were arranged with clinical precision, tools covered the walls, and shelves were packed with Magic Stones and metal components. Near the entrance, several small screws lay scattered on the floor—the casualties of Rio’s frantic exit.
The air still felt heavy from the shouting. Albert looked back into his workshop once, then let out a weary sigh.
"Are you here to commission a Magic Tool?" he asked, turning back to us.
His expression was heavy. Usually, he likely wore the professional mask of a master craftsman, but today he clearly wasn't up to the task.
"I’m sorry, but as you can see... things are a bit complicated at the moment." He offered a weak, joyless smile. "If it isn't urgent, I would appreciate it if you could return another day."
He bowed his head apologetically, but I shook mine.
"We aren't here with a request."
"No?" Albert raised an eyebrow.
"We are Rio’s friends."
The old man's expression shifted instantly.
"...Hers?"
"Yes. I’m Rai Arkberg, from S-Rank. We’re in the same class."
Lene gave a polite bow beside me. "I’m Lene. Rio-san and I usually eat lunch together."
Albert scrutinized our faces for a long moment. Then, finally, the tension seemed to drain out of him, and he let out a faint laugh.
"I see... I’ve heard about you. That girl rarely leaves the workshop, but she would talk about her classmates every now and then. She mentioned a 'Strongest Mana Monster' and a 'Dog-like Girl'."
"A-A dog?"
I didn't think much of it, but Lene looked stunned. She glanced up at me, her face practically screaming, Do I really look like a dog?
"Well, you do have your dog-like moments, Lene," I said.
"What?! No I don't! How could you say that?"
"I can prove it. Your mood always improves when I do this."
I reached out and patted her head. Her eyes narrowed comfortably for a split second before she snapped them open in realization. She seemed to have just discovered her own nature.
Suppressing a chuckle, I turned back to Albert and spoke seriously.
"Would you mind talking with us for a bit?"
Albert hesitated for a second, then gave a small, defeated nod.
"Very well. It’s no place to talk on the street. Please, come inside."
He led us into the workshop.
The interior was far more spacious than it appeared from the outside. A massive workbench dominated the center of the room, buried under disassembled Magic Tools, blueprints, and tiny components. In the back, a device resembling a mana furnace hummed with a low vibration, and tools were hung on the walls with obsessive organization.
It was cluttered, yet it didn't feel messy. It was a space defined by years of research and trial and error, the physical manifestation of a lifetime's work.
"Have a seat."
He gestured toward some round stools in the corner. Albert didn't sit; he stood by his workbench, staring at the floor in silence for a while.
"...Now then," he finally began. "Where should I start?"