With the turn of the year, a letter from Ren’s parents arrived at the manor in Erendil.
Ren had previously sent word to the village—admittedly after the fact—stating his intent to aim for the Imperial Military Academy and asking for their thoughts. This was their reply. His parents respected his choice and were overjoyed by the news.
After tucking the letter safely away in his desk drawer, Ren stepped out of his room. Studying was vital, but he wanted to spend at least the morning swinging his sword. Since his ultimate goal was the mastery of both literary and military arts, he couldn't afford to slack on either.
He realized he hadn't seen Lithia yet today. If she was still sleeping, he didn't want to disturb her, but if she was awake, he wanted to at least offer a morning greeting.
Just as he reached the foyer, the girl in question appeared.
"Haa... haa... Ren! Wait! I’m coming too!"
Lithia arrived at the entrance out of breath, hurriedly smoothing her messy bangs and trying to steady her breathing. It was exactly the moment Ren had been considering whether to look for her.
"Lady Lithia, why are you in such a rush?"
"The Lion Holy Chancel, right? I just got permission from Father, so I'm going too!"
In Lithia’s hand was the letter of introduction that had arrived shortly after the new year. It was the document Ulysses had promised to prepare to grant her entry into the sanctuary.
As I thought, Lady Lithia wanted to start her training in the Strong Sword Arts as soon as possible too, Ren thought, offering a small smile.
Lithia noticed his expression and realized what he was thinking. She looked slightly miffed, pouting with the quiet self-awareness that her own lack of initiative until now had caused his surprise.
"...You're definitely misunderstanding. Good grief."
Muttering under her breath, Lithia brushed past him. Just as they left the manor and stepped into the garden, she suddenly spun around. Leaning forward slightly, she looked up at Ren, staring intently into his eyes.
"I’m not going to lose to you, so you'd better be prepared."
At that moment, Lithia looked unusually lovely, and Ren almost found himself entranced. However, he was left wondering exactly what she meant by those words.
Looking at him, Lithia thought to herself that whether she could finally make him look her way from now on depended entirely on her efforts.
There was a reason Ren remained oblivious to the romantic feelings of these two stunning maidens. While he was usually sharp, he had spent his life focused entirely on survival and protection. Every ounce of his energy had been dedicated to the village, his family, and the safety of the two girls beside him. One might call his density a byproduct of that singular devotion.
Therefore, how the future would unfold was a story known only to the gods.
"Come on, let's go," Lithia said, walking ahead of him.
Yuno, who had been working in the garden, noticed the pair and approached. Kukuru was perched on her shoulder, but seeing Ren and Lithia, the spirit beast began to float fluffily around the group.
"Master Ren, would it be alright to begin transporting your belongings from Clausel to this location?"
Now that they had officially moved their base of operations to Erendil, plans were in motion to move both Lithia's and Ren's personal effects.
"Won't that be a lot of trouble for you?" Ren asked.
"It will be perfectly fine," Yuno assured him.
It wasn't just luggage; they were also planning to bring over the servants from Clausel who had the closest ties to Ren and Lithia. Yuno told them to focus on their training and leave the logistics to the staff.
"The Baron will be traveling back and forth between Clausel and Erendil, but it is different for you and Lady Lithia. We also plan to bring Io along when we transport the luggage."
"Kyū!"
"That's right. Kukuru is good friends with Io, after all," Yuno said with a smile as Kukuru "swam" through the air, purring happily.
Lithia’s expression softened at the sight. "Since Io is so large, it was difficult to bring her with us during the initial move."
The sound of the bell from the Great Clock Tower announcing eight in the morning reached their ears. After parting with Yuno and walking through the streets of Erendil, Ren looked up at the massive structure and marveled at it once again.
"That thing really is incredible."
"Do you know, Ren? That clock tower is actually a massive magic tool."
"Eh? Is it really?"
Lithia’s face lit up at the fact that there was something Ren didn't know. Since he usually seemed to know everything, she was clearly delighted to be the one teaching him for once.
"You can't see it from the ground, but there's a garden on the roof. The control device is located there, and it’s said to protect the Imperial Capital and the surrounding Erendil region."
"By 'protect,' do you mean it’s a magic weapon?"
"No, not exactly. It isn't a weapon, but it apparently has the effect of keeping powerful monsters away from the city. You know the legend of how one of the Seven Heroes was a master Magic Tool Artisan, right? That clock tower is a masterpiece created by that hero."
"No wonder its effects were beyond the understanding of an ordinary person like me," Ren joked.
Lithia laughed cheerfully. "Don't be silly. My father said the magic stone used as the power source comes from an S-rank monster. They have to replace it once every few decades."
However, management of the tower fell strictly under the jurisdiction of the Imperial Castle. Baron Lezard had no involvement in the stone’s replacement.
"By the way, when was the last time it was replaced?"
"I think it’s been several decades now."
"Which means it’s almost time for a new one."
"Yes. Just as you guessed, they’re planning to replace it around this summer."
During the rest of their walk, Ren also learned how one reached the rooftop. The answer was simple: there was no magic involved—you just had to climb the endless stairs.
That day, Lithia visited the Lion Holy Chancel and experienced the Strong Sword Arts for the first time. Out of consideration, a female knight stationed there served as her sparring partner. Faced with the weight of the style, Lithia understood its true power firsthand. The knights all reached the same conclusion: Lithia Clausel’s talent was undoubtedly a rare and precious thing.
It was nearly February.
Ren was walking down the capital's main street, having just purchased several reference books for his studies. He felt a bit warm in his coat, so he walked with the buttons undone.
What should I do now?
He could head straight back, but since it was still early, he debated browsing a few more shops. Ultimately, he wandered toward a district bustling with shops of all kinds, popular with people of all ages. It wasn't far from the Imperial Military Academy, and the path where he had walked Fiona home recently was just a stone's throw away.
Carrying the heavy paper bag of books, he suddenly stopped.
"Mr. Edgar?"
He called out to the elderly gentleman walking nearby. Edgar noticed Ren and offered a refined bow.
"Master Ren, are you out shopping?"
"I'm on my way home. What brings you here, Mr. Edgar?"
"I was running an errand for Master Werlich. Lord Ulysses is currently at the workshop, so we were handling separate tasks."
"Ah, so Lord Ulysses is in the capital as well."
"We finally finished transporting those materials to the workshop last night. My master came to the capital to confirm their arrival personally."
If he was talking about "those materials," it could only be the remains of Asval. Ren pondered for a moment. Since he was just idling anyway, he decided to visit Werlich’s workshop as well. Edgar agreed it was a good idea, and the two took the magic train toward the Blacksmith District.
Werlich and Ulysses, who were in the main hall of the workshop, were surprised by his sudden visit.
"Hm? Oh! If it ain't Ren!"
"I’m surprised to see you with Edgar. Come, join us."
As soon as Ren approached, Werlich abruptly pulled a measuring string from his pocket.
"Um... what?"
"Might as well measure you while you're here."
Ulysses chuckled. "Werlich is itching to get to work. Now that the materials are here, he’s eager to get started."
"I see... that explains the suddenness."
Understanding the situation, Ren set his bag of books on a nearby table.
"Have you been shopping?" Ulysses asked.
"I bought some reference books. I'm glad I ran into Mr. Edgar; I was hoping to see you, Lord Ulysses."
"Oh? Did you have business with me?"
It wasn't exactly urgent business, but Ren mentioned running into Fiona the other day.
"Why didn't you tell Lady Fiona that you and I were in contact?"
"Sorry, sorry. I simply forgot. No deeper meaning to it, I assure you."
That is definitely a lie, Ren thought.
He couldn't begin to guess what Ulysses’ true motive had been, but knowing he wouldn't get a straight answer, he simply dropped the subject. Ulysses, for his part, quickly moved on to a new topic.
"Huh? Theft, you say?" Werlich grunted as he measured Ren’s frame.
As if engaging in casual small talk, Ulysses recounted how several magic tool workshops had been burglarized recently. Whether they were large guild-affiliated shops or small private businesses, several had been hit on the same night.
"That's strange. Were they after expensive tools?"
"It’s hard to say. Surprisingly, it seems they didn't touch the money or common valuables."
"Well, it’s got nothing to do with this kid," Werlich said. "That’s work for the military or the knights."
"True enough, but it doesn't hurt to stay informed," Ulysses replied.
Ren offered a wry smile while listening to the grim conversation. I don't remember any 'workshop theft' event from the game, he thought. Still, after the incident in the Baldur Mountains, he couldn't afford to be careless.
"Alright, that’s enough, Ren. Your gear should be ready around April. You're still growing, so I'll have to keep adjusting the fit even after it's finished."
"Thank you. I'm looking forward to it."
"Don't mention it. Getting to work with Asval's horn is a reward in itself." Werlich grinned, crossing his thick, muscular arms. "So, how’s your progress with the Strong Sword Arts?"
"Coming along. I can feel myself getting stronger bit by bit, so I just have to keep pushing."
"Good, good. Oh, that reminds me. Once I finish Ren's armor, I can move on to the repairs for the Lemuria."
"How long do you think that will take?" Ren asked.
"A year or two should do it. That’s assuming I work alone."
"Alone...?"
"Duh. You think I’d keep assistants or apprentices around?"
"No, I just thought you might hire a magic ship engineer as a temporary hand..."
"Do you really think I have the personality to work with anyone else?"
Faced with such a blunt admission, Ren had no retort. He simply maintained a polite smile to avoid being rude. Ulysses, watching their exchange with a laugh, checked his watch.
"My apologies, but I must be going. Werlich, I'll leave the rest to you."
"Yeah. I’ll work out the details with Ren. I'll make a list of any extra materials I need, so make sure to order them later."
"Understood. Well then, I'll be off."
Ulysses and Edgar departed, leaving the Blacksmith District to attend to their own business. Ren remained in the workshop to consult further with Werlich. He explained that he wanted to avoid bulky, plate-like armor in favor of something that allowed for high mobility.
"It’ll be easier to adjust later if we start with bracers," Werlich suggested.
"Let's go with that."
With the first piece of equipment decided, they moved to the back of the workshop. Unlike the rest of the building, Werlich’s forge was meticulously organized—a glimpse into his true nature as a craftsman.
On the floor lay the dragon horn Ren had found near his village.
"It's a magnificent specimen. I examined it yesterday; for its weight, the hardness is simply extraordinary."
Though the horn had weathered to a grayish color, looking at it brought the memories of that life-or-death struggle rushing back to Ren.
"I’m going to have to deviate from the original plan and cut the base quite boldly. I’ll make sure the off-cuts are used properly, so don't worry."
"I trust your judgment. But what made you change the plan?"
"That's easier to show than to explain."
Werlich handed Ren a jeweler’s loupe. "Take a real close look at where I’m pointing."
Ren put on the loupe and peered at the base of the horn. In his field of vision, he saw several fine, delicate lines—almost like capillaries—stretching toward a central point.
"I’ve worked with more dragon horns than I can count, but I’ve never seen one with a specialized internal organ like this."
Asval would be weakened if his horn was broken. If the source of his power was truly inside the horn, it was undoubtedly at the end of these lines.
"Horns are special to all dragons, but I think Asval was something unique. Well, I won't pry for details. Just knowing it's worth the effort to forge is enough for me."
Later, during a training session at the Lion Holy Chancel—
"Master Ren, have you no interest in a rank-up?" a large swordsman who favored greatswords asked him.
"A rank-up for what?"
"The Guild, of course. I hear you're still E-rank. Someone with your skill should be able to reach D or C in no time."
"Honestly, I just don't want to deal with Special Quests," Ren replied casually.
"Special Quests" were missions where the client was a noble or a government institution. To reach D-rank, an adventurer had to complete at least one. Ren avoided them because they were notoriously time-consuming—often involving investigations or long-term hunts that could take days. Abandoning one carried heavy penalties, and Ren simply didn't have the time to spare.
"I have my hands full with the Strong Sword Arts right now. Ranking up can wait a while longer."
Stretching his muscles, Ren picked up his training sword to resume his practice.
On his way home that evening, Ren was about to stop at a street stall for some warm tea when a voice called out.
"Re-Ren!?"
It was Fiona, stepping out of a building along the main thoroughfare. Her glossy black hair looked striking against her white coat. Startled to see him, her beret and the necklace at her chest swayed slightly. She hurried to his side, with Edgar following closely behind.
"Lady Fiona, what are you doing here?"
"I was handling some family business. That building is an institution my father works with, so I went in his stead."
Edgar offered a quiet nod in greeting. "Master Ren, are you out shopping?"
"I was just at the Lion Holy Chancel. I was about to head home, but..."
Meeting her here felt like a stroke of luck. "If you aren't returning by carriage, would you like me to walk you to your dormitory?"
"...I would love that, truly, but I still have some work to finish..." Fiona said, her voice trailing off.
However, Edgar interjected smoothly. "Actually, Lady Fiona has completed all her essential tasks. There is no reason she cannot return now."
"B-But..."
"The remaining details are trifles. Your Spring Exams are approaching, so please use this time to rest and study. With Master Ren by your side, I have no concerns regarding your safety."
"Understood," Ren said. "Then I'll see her home."
Fiona didn't protest further, her face lighting up with genuine joy. Edgar made a prompt exit back into the building, leaving the two of them alone. As they began their walk toward the dormitory, Ren noticed Fiona’s eyes drifting toward the tea stall he had been eyeing earlier.
"You look a bit tired. Shall we get some tea first?"
"Is that alright?" she asked, her eyes full of hope.
"There's no harm in a quick tea break after a long day. What time did you start this morning?"
"I woke up before sunrise, and after two hours of preparation... umm..."
"There's a park just up the street with covered seating. Let's grab a drink and sit for a moment."
"Hehe. You really do know the capital well, Ren."
They walked to the stall and looked over the menu.
"Which one would you like?" Ren asked.
"I'll have whatever you're having!"
Ren thought she should have taken her time to choose what she actually wanted, but he didn't say so. He ordered two teas and paid the vendor. Fiona panicked when she saw him reach for his wallet.
"Wait! I should pay! You're the one escorting me!"
"I want to pay, so please don't worry about it."
Fiona looked apologetic, but she accepted the paper cup with both hands. "...Thank you." She looked up at him with a shy, radiant smile.
Ren led her to a small park tucked away in a back alley. It had a gazebo that offered shelter from the winter snow. At the moment, the only other people there were a few children playing nearby.
"This tea is wonderful." Fiona blew softly on the surface of the drink, her breath forming small clouds of steam in the winter air.
Ren sat across from her and took a sip of his own tea. After a moment of comfortable silence, Fiona seemed to remember something. She looked at him over the rim of her cup.
"Um... Ren, do you still remember that time in the Baldur Mountains?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
Fiona cleared her throat softly. "Do you remember the tea I brewed back then?"
While they were searching for a way down the mountain after the bridge collapse, Fiona had brewed tea for him during their camp. Ren remembered it vividly—mostly because of how incredibly bitter it had been.
"I remember it had a very nice aroma."
"But the taste...?"
"It was delicious. Really."
"Is that the truth? It wasn't... difficult to drink?"
"No, not at all."
It was a very deliberate, immediate answer—a clear act of kindness. Ren wasn't lying; he had genuinely appreciated the gesture at the time, even if the bitterness had been overwhelming.
"I’ve practiced so many times since then," she admitted. "So that the next time I make it for you, it will actually be good. I studied how to brew it so it wouldn't be so bitter."
"It had a bit of a kick, sure, but it wasn't bad—ah."
Fiona leaned in closer. "So it was bitter! I knew it! I knew I wasn't imagining it!"
"No, I mean, it was still good!"
"But it was definitely bitter, right!?"
Ren looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "...I liked the flavor."
Fiona couldn't miss the way he was trying to spare her feelings, but the kindness of his words warmed her more than the tea. Seeing him slightly flustered was endearing, and her own lips curved into a soft smile.
"Really... you're much too kind, Ren."
Fiona’s cheeks had turned a delicate shade of red.