It was a bright yet cold day in Chapter 15, and the clocks were not striking anything as our hero was in the middle of an army encampment which lacked clocks. Haruto Watanabe, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile Lahanezite cold, slipped quickly into sleep, though not quickly enough to prevent ruminating about the fact that he was still maidenless in the fifteenth chapter of his own story.

“Monsieur, wake up, we have to get ready.” shouted Rabanowicz to Watanabe. She fruitlessly attempted to wake our hero up. “We have to prepare our documents to enter the capital today, and you won’t be getting anywhere in a city currently being the otherworldly refugee you are.”

Watanabe woke up at the mention of “documents”. “D-Documents? What, do I need a passport or something just to enter a city?” said Watanabe in jest. I have never seen a fantasy world require documentation, and I have never heard about the medieval folk having passports, said Watanabe who was ignorant that the concept of a passport was older than feudalism.

“Yeah? You need a ‘passport’ to pass the port of most cities.” replied Rabanowicz with complete sincerity. “Have you ever had to travel before? This sort of thing should be common sense.”

Well, I left my passport on Earth, and I don’t think there’s a Japanese diplomatic mission in another world that can issue me a new one. Though, even if I had brought it along, I don’t think Japanese passports are valid for use in fantasy worlds, nor would the passport of a person who is probably legally dead be considered valid, thought Watanabe as he cursed the devilish author who added red tape to a fantasy world.

“Of course doctor, I do know that you need to have a passport and a valid visa and whatnot to travel to a foreign country.” said Watanabe. “Unfortunately, I did suddenly get transported to Lahanezy without being given a chance to sort out my documents for travel to another world.”

“Right, so you’ve trespassed into this realm without proper documentation.” said Rabanowicz. “Now what do we do…?”

Rabanowicz and Watanabe racked their brains to find a solution. Yet, the only thing they accomplished was racking their brain without finding a solution.

Just as Watanabe was about to give up and suggest not entering any cities, Hans showed up to the scene with the batman. “Honorable Sir Watanabe! Thank Brassicus you are here, it would have been most rude of me to not leave without getting a chance to bid you farewell.”

“Sir Hans? Aren’t you coming to the capital with us, we should still be together today.” asked Watanabe.

“The company is headed to an encampment near the capital, not one in it. As a dutiful captain I’ll have to lead my men there and leave you by your lonesome to complete your pilgrimage.” replied Hans with a tiny little bit of sorrow in his voice. “May your travel to the apex of civilization and faith goes well, Brassicus Prima willing.”

Watanabe suddenly noticed an opportunity, and the engines of BS-making began to stir in his mind. “Sir Hans, I’m afraid I might be unable to complete my journey. The documents I procured for travel were stolen by a white-haired red-eyed woman who has also stolen other goods in the camp.” said Watanabe while he tried to sound as dejected as possible. Hopefully Hans has some connections or something that could help me out.

“White-haired and red-eyed… By Brassicus Prima and Holy Theodore, were you attacked by a servant of that fiend Vasily?!” exclaimed Hans in shock and abject horror. “I heard a report of a shopkeeper having their goods stolen, but straight up going for a man on a pilgrimage? Utterly despicable I say! What sort of document was stolen sir, maybe we can make amends?”

Gotcha! “I had my passport stolen, Sir Hans. I know not about how you can amend such a grave situation.”

“A passport to enter the capital, I presume?” said Hans. “That should not be too hard to replace, all you need is for a trustworthy Brassican of good rank to testify on paper that you pose no danger to the commonwealth of the realm. Follow me sir, we shall make amends!”

Watanabe followed Hans to the captain’s tent, where Hans quickly ordered the batman to get him some writing implements to issue a passport. After having been delivered some ink, his own personal gaudy quill made of a very fine feather and a finer piece of paper, Hans began to use his authority to commit nepotism. He dictated to the batman who quickly finished work on the “passport”. Hans then stamped the paper with his personal signet ring dipped in red ink and then signed the paper with his signature. To add the last needed touch of officiality to this passport, Hans rolled the paper and bound it with a red ribbon.

“There you go, sir. You should not have any problems entering our illustrious capital.” said Hans. He handed over the newly-created “passport”.

(Written on the image above: I, Captain Hans of Pallenberg, with Brasisucs Prima as my witness, hereby guarantee that Sir Watanabe of Nihoun is a fellow Brassican of good nature who shall not commit any offenses to the commonwealth of the realm and the city during his stay in the hallow city of Brasscirom.

Sir Watanabe of Nihoun is currently on a mission to learn more about the true faith as commanded by his liege, Lord Nanashi Inai of Nihoun. Sir Watanabe was inducted into the faith by His Reverence Anton of Sherifeld. Brassicus willing, he shall complete his pilgrimage to Brasscirom.

His physical description is as follows; Watanabe is an honorable gentleman of average height and a lean build. He has the darkest hair I have ever seen in my life. The most noticeable feature of his is his strangely shaped eyes and pearl-white teeth.

If Sir Watanabe is to commit any offenses, which I swear by the name of Holy Theodore he shall not, I shall take full responsibility and accept punishment both on this earth and in the afterlife for his actions.

May Brassicus Prima bless whomever comes across this document,

This document has been written down by Günther of Auspell with permission by the issuer, Captain Hans of Pallenberg, who has also signed and stamped this document.)

This… Looks and feels nothing like a passport, but I guess this is how they make passports around these parts, thought Watanabe examining the piece of paper that he couldn’t read.

“Captain, it’s about time that the men will wake up.” notified the batman.

“Right, we must get ready to do our duty for Brassicus Prima and country.” said Hans as he bid farewell to Watanabe and Rabanowicz. “May Brassicus Prime protect thee on your pilgrimage to Brasscirom.”

“May Brassicus Prime protect thee on your journey, Sir Hans.” replied Watanabe to fit in.

Guess he wasn’t that bad, thought Watanabe as he observed Hans and the rest of the army begin to break camp and leave.

“Well then, if you do not need to take time to cry after your oh-so emotional separation from Hans, we need to go on our own way.” said Rabanowicz as she bid Watanabe to follow her. “If we’re right next to the capital, then there is no reason not to visit it.”

“Ah, right.” replied Watanabe. Hope again budded in his heart. Rule 6, at least I think this was the sixth rule, of Being Sent to Another World: If one is not in the capital, then one must move to the capital to exploit the various opportunities that may arise only in such lively cities. My adventure has been a bit slow up until now, and I have yet to catch a plot thread that’ll help me set a clear and concise goal, but the capital should surely hold something special that’ll help me get back on track with plot progression!

Since they were now not following the company of Hans, which moved slowly like any large body of men, the two found themselves moving quicker than usual. As Watanabe approached the capital, he began seeing other travelers, who were mostly merchant caravans looking for profit, lonely pilgrims looking for Brassicus Prima or farmers looking to sell their produce.

The leveled earthen path gave way into a proper road paved out of stone blocks. A peculiar thing Watanabe noticed while on this road was various ruined stone walls and small fortifications scattered around the sides of it. “Say, did an apocalyptic event happen a long time ago? Why are all of these places abandoned?”

“I wouldn’t say it was anything near the levels of apocalypse, but these buildings, and this road, are most likely those of the old Sallian Empire.” replied Rabanowicz who assumed a scholarly tone. “This road, the Grand Boreal Road as it’s called, is left over from the Empire.” she stopped walking and then pointed at a milestone at the side of the road. “If I am reading this correctly, for my Classical Sallian is a bit rusty, this section of the road was built in 372 B.L. (Before Lahanezy) with the personal funding and orders of one of the consuls at the time.”

“These guys seem pretty powerful if you refer to them as the Empire. How did they fall if they were so powerful?” wondered Watanabe. “Did a Demon-Lord finish them off, or did some kind of ancient-er curse befall upon them?”

“I don’t know who or what you are referring to when you say ‘demon-lord’, but the Sallians just slowly died off as they fought countless wars within themselves. There is even said to be a period where there were nine different consuls who claimed legitimacy.” said Rabanowicz. “Though, they only completely fell after the Salliapolis, that same city is known today as Brasscirom, fell to the Lahanezites during the reign of Theodore.”

The rest of the journey continued as uneventfully as the road outside the capital was as safe as a road could ever manage to be. With the plentiful travelers on the road there was safety in numbers, not to mention the occasional soldier on the patrol.

Slowly, as the capital came ever closer, the ancient ruined fortifications gave way to contemporary fortifications in use. Most of these fortifications were watchtowers and small buildings out of brick housing soldiers. There were also camps of civilians outside the perimeter of the capital, made out of those who either didn’t need enter the city to or hadn’t gotten permission to enter the city.

Finally, all of the aforementioned fortifications and camps slowly disappeared as Watanabe followed the road, climbing a small hill which revealed behind it the view of the capital city, Brasscirom.

Most of the view of the inside was blocked by a majestic wall of red brick surrounding the city. While the city was impressive to the many travelers who were traveling to it, Watanabe and Rabanowicz were an exception to that amazement. Rabanowicz had already spent some time in the capital city of the Éirois that was about equal size to Brasscirom and Watanabe had lived in the Tokyo metropole, which had about thirty times the population of Brasscirom.

Not being able to fully take in the view of the city due to the giant brick wall in the way, Watanabe and Rabanowicz slowly walked to the gate of the city, where they found a small line waiting to enter the city. They entered the line, and waited for a few minutes before it was their turn to enter.

A man with a pike twice as long as himself was the one who greeted the pair in front of the gate. “Next! Enter the second room from the right, you two!”

There was a door connecting to a dusty room inside the wall. There stood a man behind a counter, who had a stern expression and bore the garb of an intellectual with a long flowing robe and a fluffy cravat which costed more than the yearly wage of an average laborer.

“Your papers, please.” commanded the man behind the counter. Rabanowicz, who carried around a passport she had acquired through more official means when she first arrived in Lahanezy, and Watanabe handed him their papers. The man took a quick look before promptly rejecting the papers without even reading them. “These documents lack their revenue stamps. We unfortunately cannot accept them-”

“According to who?” asked Rabanowicz who was worried she might need to pay a bribe to get past this checkpoint. “What is a ‘revenue stamp’ anyways?”

“According to the Stamp Act of 629, which was passed last week, a tax needs to be paid for every document that is submitted to officials of His Supreme Reverence.” the official pointed to a piece of paper that hung on the wall which read “Documents that lack revenue stamps will be rejected in accordance with the Stamp Act of 629”. “If you do not want to pay, then you are free to leave this room.”

“Ugh- Fine. How much do we need to pay?” asked Rabanowicz as she decided not to pick a fight with a government official.

“Five seeds for each document that will be inspected.” replied the official.

Rabanowicz and Watanabe hesitantly handed over the five seeds over to the official, who stamped their documents to authorize that they had paid their due taxes. He then read the documents of the two for the first time, before questioning the two.

“Mister Watanabe, it says that you are on a mission from a foreign lord. Do you have any proof or letter from your lord?” asked the official.

“Ah yes, of course! This is a document from my lord showing that I am indeed sent by him.” said Watanabe. He took out his 1000-yen banknote and showed the obverse side which contained the portrait of a certain Natsume Sōseki. “This is a portrait of Lord Nanashi Inai of Nihon, and here in red is his seal.”

“I- I see.” said the official, who couldn’t read anything on the banknote to confirm anything but also didn’t want to offend a foreign dignitary. The official then turned to Rabanowicz. “Lady Rabanowicz, according to this document you are a heathen, and no matter of what a benign heathen you may be according to the issuer, you’ll still need to pay the heathen tax to enter this hallowed city.”

“What? Since when?” asked Rabanowicz. “All these taxes are too taxing, aren’t they?”

“Sorry, but I’m not the one who makes the rules, this new tax was levied by the city council of Brasscirom many years ago.” replied the city official. “You’ll need to pay a leaf to ensure your protection enter the city.”

“By the Divine, you are robbing me blind.” murmured Rabanowicz as she gave the official a leaf coin. The official then added a stamp to Rabanowicz’s passport that authorized the fact that she had a right to exist as a heathen inside the walls of Brasscirom. “Alright, you are good to go after you pay the two seed toll to enter the city. Mister Watanabe doesn’t need to pay as he is a pilgrim.”

“Finally, a tax that I understand, just a simple toll.” said a clearly annoyed Rabanowicz as she handed her hard-earned cash. The official then stamped the two’s passports with yet another stamp that confirmed the fact that they were allowed to pass the gate.

“You may go now, you’ll need to show your documents to the guard at the front to enter the city. Brassicus Prime grant you a blessed pilgrimage sir, and…” the official paused for a second while staring at Rabanowicz. “…have a decent time, heathen-lady.”

“By the Divine, I could complain about these Brassicans for the rest of eternity.” complained Rabanowicz as she and Watanabe got out of the cursed room of bureaucracy.

I think I’m starting to get a distaste for these Lahanezites too, thought Watanabe as he lamented the seven seeds he just lost. The first time I ever spent money on this otherworld is on taxes! What horrible author thinks that their hero needs to pay their taxes?!

“You two, are your papers sorted now?” asked the guard in front of the gate as he observed the two come out.

“Yes, though I think those papers sorted me out instead.” replied Rabanowicz as she showed her passport to the guard. Watanabe followed suit with the showing of papers.

“Okay, you are good to go. Pass!” exclaimed the guard as he stepped aside.

Finally, after a whole incessant chapter of dealing with red tape, our hero could enter the capital.