About an hour earlier, in a corner of the Imperial Capital.
"That was incredibly delicious," Ren muttered as he stepped out of a popular restaurant.
It was a place that had appeared in The Legend of the Seven Heroes. Because the game had used high-quality 3D models for its food, the dishes had always tempted the players’ appetites. Having seen the food in person and filled his stomach, Ren was left with nothing but satisfaction.
Since he had been forced to come to the Imperial Capital—a place he had spent so long avoiding—he figured he was entitled to at least this much of a reward. He turned toward the path leading back to the main street, intending to return to the inn, when—
"Watch it!"
"Hey! Watch where you're going, old man!"
While walking through a back alley, Ren saw an old man and a group of young men who looked like adventurers bump shoulders right in front of him. The old man boldly shot back, "Hah!? It's both our faults!" his tone immediately aggravating the young adventurers.
However, Ren was more concerned for the young men. Though the alley was dim, Ren realized the truth of the situation the moment he saw the old man’s build.
(That man... he’s a Dwarf.)
The stranger was roughly the same height as the adolescent Ren, but in inverse proportion to his stature, he possessed a rugged, powerfully built physique. His long beard was frizzled as if singed by fire; he was the textbook image of a Dwarf from a fantasy setting.
"W-Wait, please!"
Ren jumped between them, mediating the dispute to keep a fight from breaking out. Perhaps taken aback by a young boy’s intervention, the young adventurer simply threw out a parting shot—"You got lucky, old man"—and walked away.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Ren turned to the old Dwarf.
"Impressive, impressive! The Imperial Capital hasn't gone to the dogs just yet!"
"...If I hadn't stepped in, those young adventurers would have been the ones getting hurt."
"Huh? You think I wouldn't be the one in trouble?"
(This great me...)
Ren suppressed a dry laugh and answered calmly.
"No matter how skilled an adventurer they are, a Dwarf has the upper hand in a contest of raw strength. It might be different if they drew their swords, of course."
"...Hoh. You’re small, but you know your stuff."
The Dwarf then gestured for Ren to crouch down. Ren wondered why, but he complied anyway.
"Right. Let’s go."
Without a hint of hesitation, the old Dwarf hopped onto Ren's back and let himself be carried. Ren was naturally stunned. Despite the small frame, the Dwarf was heavy, his body packed with dense, powerful muscle.
"—Excuse me?"
"I just sprained my ankle. Since you’re such a respectable lad, I’ll grant you the right to carry this great me."
(What is wrong with this guy?)
"Come on, let’s get moving."
Did he even have the right to refuse anymore? Ren let out a deep sigh, chalked it up to fate, and reluctantly began to walk.
A boy walking through the Imperial Capital while carrying a Dwarf on his back was a conspicuous sight. Most people would hate being the focus of such public curiosity. Ren was no exception, and he desperately wanted to avoid the attention.
"That way. My workshop is over there."
The Dwarf pointed imperiously. The path led deeper into the back alleys, which at least allowed them to avoid the main thoroughfare. Ren followed the instructions and walked for several dozen minutes.
By the time they had traveled a fair distance, the Dwarf had grown quiet. Ren worried he might have fallen asleep, but the Dwarf spoke up just in time.
"Kid."
"Yes, yes, what is it?"
"—You have a Skill related to physical enhancement, don’t you?"
Ren was inwardly startled by how suddenly the Dwarf had struck the truth. However, he maintained a composure far beyond his years.
"I don't know. I've never checked my Skills."
"Hoh... never checked them, you say?"
"...That’s a strangely suspicious way of putting it."
"My apologies. Think of it as an occupational hazard."
"You mentioned a workshop earlier. Is there a connection?"
"Yeah. I work as both a Blacksmith and a Magic Ship Engineer. I’ve dealt with a lot of swordsmen because of it, so I can’t help but notice."
It was a logical enough reason for Ren to accept.
"But it’s rare to be a Blacksmith and a Magic Ship Engineer at the same time."
"I hear that a lot. But they aren't as unrelated as you'd think. Both involve processing metal and Monster Materials. If you push the crafts to their limits, you find they share a common essence."
"Ah... I see."
"Next time, I'll make something for you, kid. Something other than a sword, though."
"Eh? Why not a sword?"
Ren tilted his head. If the man was a Blacksmith, surely he forged swords; why exclude them from the start? The Dwarf pointed at the Magic Sword at Ren's waist.
"That thing—is it a Magic Tool or something?"
Again. The man kept hitting the mark.
"No, it isn’t."
"It’s not, huh... But strangely enough, I can’t hear the 'voice' of the materials coming from it. Not the metal, and not the Monster Materials."
"A sword having a voice is—"
"Strange? I understand the feeling. The world is a big place, but I’m probably the only one who can hear them."
Ren wasn't sure how much of the story he should take seriously. Still, having the truth guessed twice made him pause. Ren offered no further response, and the Dwarf seemed satisfied, muttering, "Well, whatever."
"Oops, looks like we’re here."
The Dwarf hopped off Ren's back, his feet hitting the cobblestones. He let out a pained hiss upon impact, tears welling slightly in his eyes. He was clearly just putting on a brave face about the injury.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah! I’ll run the rest of the way! Well then, until we meet again!"
Without noticing Ren’s concern, the Dwarf hurried off on his own. Ren could only give a wry smile as he watched him go. To think he’d try to run at this point... if it hurt that much, he didn't need to force himself. Ren watched the man’s back until he vanished into the distance.
"He said he’d make me something, but we didn't even exchange names. There won't be a next time."
Ren wasn't particularly counting on it, but he spoke with a hint of resignation. He decided it was time to head back to the inn himself. Regardless of how strange the encounter was, helping someone didn't feel bad. As he reflected on the Dwarf's vivid words, Ren prepared to start walking—
He froze only a moment later.
The area was a quiet district defined by its varying elevations. Ren had been following the Dwarf’s directions up a slope, his mind occupied by the man’s cryptic remarks. Now that he stopped to look around, he realized the landscape was strikingly familiar.
Looking down the slope, he could see rows of houses and shops illuminated by black, antique-style streetlamps. But that wasn’t the sight he was meant to see. Ren took a slow, deep breath and turned his gaze toward a flat stretch of land in the distance.
He looked at the massive institution situated there.
The Imperial Academy.
The Academy District.
This was the largest landmark in the area, a prestigious school famous across the world. Some of its windows were lit, suggesting people were still inside. From his vantage point on the hill, Ren gazed down at the campus. He stood in silence, looking at the lush gardens, the cluster of research facilities, and the grand building with its deep navy roof.
"............"
Complex emotions he had never known before surged through him. There was a pathetic urge to flee immediately, countered by a fierce resolve to resist fate—a feeling that he would not lose, even if forced to face it.
Minutes passed in silence.
Tap.
The sound of a footstep came from behind. It was the sound of a single person approaching him.
"Hello, Ren Ashton."
It was a man’s voice. Ren had never heard the voice with his own ears before, but he knew that voice. Ren started to turn toward the speaker, but the man spoke again.
"You can stay as you are."
Ren obeyed, continuing to look at the Imperial Academy as he waited for the visitor to reach his side. Without turning to look at the man standing next to him, Ren spoke.
"In that case, I won't offer my thanks. You’ve already given them many times in your letters."
"I see. Then, let us proceed as your heart desires."
It was a strange sensation. Although it was their first face-to-face meeting, and despite the man’s high status, a certain level of trust existed between them. It was a silence born of mutual understanding.
"What do you think, looking at the Academy Viscount Given invited you to?"
"I’m wondering all over again if a man like him was truly capable of writing a recommendation letter."
"Heh... Hahaha! Ah, you needn't worry about that! That man certainly could have prepared a recommendation! At the time, at least."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. For better or worse, he was the Assistant to the Minister of Justice. However, a recommendation would only have waived a few written exams. He could never have helped you bypass the performance testing—the final exam Fiona had to endure."
Ren had wondered why Fiona had to take an exam if Given’s influence was supposedly so great. Hearing the explanation now, the pieces finally clicked into place.
Eventually, without a word from either, they turned to face one another at the same time. Their eyes finally met.
"—Nice to meet you, Ren Ashton."
"—Nice to meet you, Marquis Ulysses Ignat."
There had been no formal appointment. Yet, here and now, the two of them had finally encountered one another.