“Crazy…” Astolfo alternated his gaze from front to back disbelief. Trapped behind him in a strange blue ring of magic was the run-down shack in Frucht, and in front of him was a humongous room with a giant window peeking into the bustling streets of a city he had never seen before.

“Isn’t magic amazing?” Luka muttered as he passed through the portal.

“So amazing! So convenient!”

“Haha. It is not as convenient as you think, young sir.” A short man wearing a white robe interrupted Astolfo and Luka’s conversation with a gentle smile.

“What do you mean? Mister?” Astolfo tilted his head at the man.

The man bent his knees to level himself with Astolfo’s eyes and spoke. “Young sir, this portal magic is very hard to create and maintain. It is like juggling apples while eating a banana.”

‘Did this man think we will understand better with an absurd analogy?’ Luka thought. On the other hand, Astolfo noticed the droopy eyes and fatigued muscles on the man’s face and asked.

“Did you make this portal?”

“My, how did you know? Yes, young sir, I stayed up the whole night to make this small portal.”

Luka’s eyes narrowed at the man’s words. ‘Of course, he knew,’ he thought. ‘what kind of idiot does he think my brother is?!’

“Whole night for the small portal mister? You aren’t very skilled, are you?” Astolfo bluntly bared his thoughts at the robed youth who waved his hands in a fluster.

“O-of course not, young sir! There are barely people as skilled as me. No common magician can even dream of making a portal, let alone create one like this!” the ‘magician’ said.

“Haam!” The sound came from behind the group. “Almost every magician could have made a portal ages ago. People should train more.” A yawning Charlotte crossed over the portal before ruffling Luka’s hair.

The older-younger brother turned his head away and glared at her while fixing his hair. “Tsk. What do you mean by ages ago?”

Charlotte smirked at Luka and placed her hands on her waist. “Luka, you don’t even about the age of gods?” She exaggeratedly shook her head. “What am I gonna do with you? This is common knowledge.”

“Wow, little miss.” The robed ‘magician’ shifted his attention from Astolfo to Charlotte. “You are already studying about the age of gods? That’s very advanced for your age!”

Charlotte smirked once again as if it was obvious, but the soft blush on her cheeks from the praise was too evident for anyone to miss. “Isn’t it natural to know what the source of the ruins and tombs are?”

“How upstanding of you, little miss.” The robed man’s eyes were thin and smile wide. “Since you find it natural, how can you have the heart to compare me to them and ask me to practice more? You even called them gods!”

Luka decided that this person was one to keep grudges. Right then, Vincent, Ophelia, and Vigsius finally stepped in from the portal. The robed man immediately stood straight in attention when he saw them cross over.

“Junior transport magician Truss, sir!”

“Ease up, Truss. We are undercover here.” The giant’s voice boomed in the humongous room, his head almost touching the ceiling.

“Haha, these guys are all too stuck up to be undercover.” Vincent bellowed with laughter as he turned towards Truss and patted him on the shoulder. A nervous gap spread on the magician’s face as awkward sounds left his mouth. “The portal was shaky, you should practice more,” Vincent said.

“O-oh! Yes! I will get to practice right away!” The magician shouted with a gleeful smile at Vincent’s words. A reaction starkly different from the one he showed mere seconds ago.

“You do you. Let’s go enjoy the festival.” Vincent stretched his arms and beckoned everyone to move on. Luka clicked his tongue at an adult’s two-facedness.

**

Truss was swept up in a position he didn’t want to be in. While walking about the festival with his giant boss and the Kirsche family, he found himself in front of a long and wide place called the competition street. Vigsius said that this was the place he wanted to bring everyone to and bellowed with laughter. As if to show why he said so, Ophelia and Vincent started burning with fighting spirit. They were more competitive than the young magician had imagined.

As they entered the street, though, Ophelia quickly realized that most of the competitions were physically or mentally taxing. There was a special area for kids too where no betting was going on, but she explained it would still be bad for Astolfo. After some discussions with everyone, she decided to give Astolfo some company and explore the rest of the festival. Vincent seemed dissatisfied with this outcome as he whispered something into Astolfo’s ears, but Truss and his giant boss truly welcomed this development.

Ophelia was scary.

Happy that he would now get to enjoy the competition street that he had heard of all the way in the empire, Truss flexed his muscles and stretched his limbs.

“Well then, y’all ready to make some big buck?!” Vincent said.

“Big buck? Mum said we should stick to the kids' one.” Charlotte looked at Vincent with thin eyes.

“What, you are fourteen and fifteen! When I was your age I was killing dragons. You are adult enough.” Vincent pulled out a couple of gold coins and handed them to both the kids who seemed to have dismissed his words as an old man’s rambling. Truss, on the other hand, felt a chill run down his spine at Vincent’s account of bravery.

With no delay, the four others started their assault on the competitions. Truss snapped himself out of his stupor and looked around himself. Dozens of stalls and structures were set up all over the humongous competition street. Giants wrestled their arms against tiny humans while beastkin shot arrows with great accuracy. From mana-shaping to mechanical fencing and even plain old poker, all kinds of games and challengers spread wide in the competition street with avid gamblers on their backs!

“Hey, T-t-uhh what was it… Trass!” Before he could join a game of his own, Vincent’s cheery voice called him out. In his hand was a fairly large back with silver and gold coins at its bottom. “Carry this, lad. I can’t move around with this in my hands.”

“U-uh…” he wanted to protest, but how can Truss go against Vincent Kirsche? With gritted teeth, Truss accepted the bag from Vincent’s hands.

That was when his predicament began.

The Kirsches and that one giant were monsters. No, really. Monsters.

They didn’t lose a single match they participated in, in fact, they obliterated the games at breakneck speed. Truss had no choice but to run to and fro between competitions, collecting the money his four companions won. He was jealous and angry, so much so that when Vincent was finally given some competition by a black-robed man, he bet all his money in hope of Vincent’s loss but lost it all.

Just because he was their junior!

The vengeful young magician received a lot of reason to grow stronger that day.

**

“And so, when the whole of Essen was about to starve, Viscount Essen offered himself to the goddess of harvest, and the famine was lifted! On this very day of the year, we don’t mourn in the loss of a great leader, but rejoice in the courage and grace of our late viscount and the prosperity his lineage bestows upon us!”

As the raconteur ended his tale, all the spectators broke into applause. The raconteur lowered his hat and a rain of bronze coins fell right into it. After dropping in a coin of his own, Astolfo moved on from his spot and a new assemblage of patrons stepped under the awnings.

Astolfo left the shade and into the unsparingly wide streets of Essen. Not a single carriage was permitted on the commercial roads which gave way for a vibrant pack of people moving from one shop to another. As were more frequent in Essen, several giants and beastkin merged with the humans, showing a sight Astolfo had only read about.

“Was it fun?” Ophelia asked and stretched out her hand.

“Un!” While Astolfo was tall for his age thanks to Vincent’s nightmarish training, his head was just a little above his mother’s waist. Astolfo grabbed her hand and they continued onward. “It was fun, but I don’t buy it.”

“Oh? Don’t buy what?”

“That the viscount sacrificed himself to save the people.”

“And why do you not buy it?” Ophelia asked in a playful tone.

“Hmm, if he sacrificed himself to please the ‘god of harvest’, isn’t that a pretty big thing? Just a festival in Essen doesn’t make sense given how much prestige Rileth could stand to gain from something like that. And speaking of Rileth, what was the rest of the kingdom doing when such a harsh famine hit their territory? And why would any god take a sacrifice instead of a pledge?”

Astolfo’s analysis flowed out in one breath and was filled with confidence. A pleasant smile formed on Ophelia’s face when she heard his reasoning. As the one teaching Astolfo, she tried her best to develop his critical thinking skills. He still lacked, but it was pleasant nonetheless.

Deciding to test him further, Ophelia posed a question. “But, this legend has been carried down for five hundred years. If everything is as you say, there is no reason for a story to be passed down for so long.”

Astolfo tilted his head at his mother’s question. If she said so, then it must mean his reasoning was wrong. Was it due to a lack of information, and could he supplement it with what he has available to him? The merry sounds of the jovial crowds disappeared from Astolfo’s mind and the harmonious scenes of the festival seemed to have faded away as the boy went deeper and deeper into his thoughts. After a short lull, he seemed to have made his mind and turned to his mother.

“This festival isn’t being celebrated for the past five hundred years, right? It would have been much bigger. That means the reason why the rest of the kingdom didn’t move and why the viscount of Essen is not super famous is because this was a legend spread for political gains?”

“Oh, you figured it out well. Essen has always been eyed for its high yield and population. When no other noble was able to help Essen keep its independence and power, the viscount smartly turned to the common folk for support. He created a fake legend and spread it, solidifying his position amongst the masses of Rileth and resisting against pressure from high nobles.” Ophelia explained with a smile as they turned to the next street and into an area more crowded than before.

“Oh, and the reason why the story says nothing about pledges is because of the nobles— Ahk!” Astolfo bumped into a chunk of metal and fell on his back. The chunk of metal, which was an armor-clad child, immediately got up and moved towards Astolfo.

“Friend! Are you alright?” The armor-clad boy asked with an arm stretched towards the Astolfo. He was about to grab onto it when the armor of the boy entered Astolfo’s sight and his face scrunched into an odd frown. A short child that looked his age had donned a heavy armor as his get-up for a festival? What kind of person was this?

Perhaps sensing the emotions beneath Astolfo’s eyes. The armor-clad boy coughed and introduced himself first. “Ahem. I am Joanich, an aspiring knight. I was checking out the decorum in the festivities when I bumped into you. Are you alright, friend?”

This time, Astolfo’s eyes lit up. A pushover that seemed out of his knockers was just what he was looking for! Astolfo grabbed the boy’s hand and got up with his support. “Young knight,” he said as he patted the boy’s shoulders. “Your purpose is truly noble and brave! It is super high priority.”

The confused boy was left flabbergasted. Before he could say anything, though, Astolfo’s palm covered his mouth. “You heard the guy, mother. It is only natural that I go help him out since I disturbed his mission. You should go and join up with dad, I’ll be fine with this brave knight.”

Ophelia too was caught in an awkward position by her son’s sudden actions. She didn’t expect him to come up with such a proposal. Since the second he entered her sight, Ophelia had been observing his every movement and could tell Joanich was harmless. She wanted to play in the competitions too. She at least wanted to embarrass Vincent and Vigsius at the same time just once.

“Hah, fine. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Ophelia conceded at last. She anyway accompanied Astolfo because he would have been lonely by not being able to participate in the games, there were no worries about his safety. Ophelia placed a very quick barrier and alarm magic on both the children and let them be with a sigh. She would take out this little frustration by making everyone bite the dust.

Only when Ophelia’s back faded away did Astolfo let go of Joanich’s mouth.

“Hey, what was that for!” Joanich erupted as he rubbed his face. “In fact, how are you so strong?”

“Hahaha! I am only ‘so strong’ now, it’ll change when we grow up.” Astolfo laughed and wrapped his arm around the young knight’s shoulders. “My mother is a stubborn one. She thinks I am weak and shouldn’t have fun. If not for my dad’s insistence and the fact that most children are moving alone, she wouldn’t have let me go.”

“Weak…? No, before that, what was all that, friend? I don’t even know you!” Joanich’s graceful knight act dropped out right there as he shouted once again. With no thoughts of entertaining him, Astolfo tightened his grip around the boy's shoulders and laughed it off again.

“Haha. Just escort me, young knight.” With that, Astolfo dragged the armor-clad boy along with him.

“At least tell me your name!”

“Don’t sweat that irrelevant stuff, hahaha!”

The two odd friends then annexed the grand festival of Essen until a sudden cloud of red spread over the midday sky.