I pored over Sir Galahad's hand-drawn map with interest. It was one thing to know I lived in the Cargellen Canton of the Kingdom of Robeld, but it was quite another to see it all laid out. Or, at least, one section of it; the map didn't extend far from Harvent Canton. The mithril mountains formed the southern border, but the other side of them wasn't part of the kingdom at all, but dense, uninhabited, monster-infested jungle, making it rather damn lucky that I hadn't succeeded in crossing the mountain range. To the east was Cargellen Canton, the forest I'd crossed straddling most of the border. To the west and north-east were cantons that the map didn't name, while to the north-west was the royal canton.

  Each settlement in Harvent Canton was marked. Like my home canton, it only contained a single town, but unlike home, there were very few villages. The ones that did exist were scattered along the borders, usually near forests. It wasn't a surprise that the count was struggling to raise manpower; the canton simply wasn't heavily populated.

  Aside from the path to the capital in the royal canton, settlements in other cantons weren't marked. Presumably Sir Galahad simply didn't know where they were. Nevertheless, the forest that separated Harvent from Cargellen was drawn in enough detail that I could work out approximately where home was, along with the Fluffy Meadows and Greenhold. If a time ever came when I felt it safe to return, this map would be helpful in finding my way.

  In fact...

  I had no intention of deliberately throwing the map away, but given how my journey had gone so far, it seemed likely that at some point I'd end up kidnapped again, or losing my luggage. Best to ensure I remembered it fully.

  The same went for the list of names and instructions the knight had issued me with. Greyforge was due north from the village of Greystone, sitting on an east-to-west road that ran from the royal canton to Cargellen. Even if I missed the town, once I hit the road, I'd know which direction to turn. The plan was to go there, get my identity laundered by some not-corrupt-at-all priests, then follow the road north-west.

  I'd cross Harvent Canton's border at the main official crossing between here and the royal canton, which frankly sounded like a terrible idea to me, but Sir Galahad insisted the path would be monster and bandit free, and the gate would not be guarded by the count's men. His advice not to use his name didn't instil me with confidence, either. He claimed it could lead to the royal canton's guards invoking the travel ban despite me personally not being from this canton, and I'd have more chance getting through on my own. But if that was the case, why would his letter be any more useful getting into the sapphire city? I suppose guards manning the city gate would have less internal knowledge of Harvent Canton than guards guarding its border...

  After crossing cantons, assuming I got that far, I'd travel to the sapphire city and deliver the knight's messages. After that... The royal capital was bound to have an adventurers' guild. Maybe I'd sign up. My original plan was to find a dungeon to level up in, and, with a laundered identity, I'd be able to do so the official way.

  I wouldn't use the roads themselves, of course; a letter of passage from someone the count considered a traitor would mean nothing if another of his loyal patrols came across me. Thankfully, Sir Galahad assured me that the landscape north of Greyforge was more rugged than the flat plains between the town and the mithril mountains, even if it was just as barren. Of course, I still had to cross the plains again to get to Greyforge. The knight seemed to think there wouldn't be any more of the count's men running around, but it still seemed risky to me.

  Less risky than heading in the other direction, straight into a monster-infested jungle, though.

  I'd take whatever edge I could get, even if it was unlikely to be much help without cover.

  I spent another couple of hours in the forest refilling my supplies—the village couldn't afford to gift me with food, alas—and then I was off.

  "God speed," said Sir Galahad, waving me off.

  "Pah. Don't trust in gods," spat Old Three-eye. "Go, little harbinger. Make your own fate."

  "I'll do my best," I answered, once again having no clue what she was talking about, then set off at a jog.

  Despite the time I'd spent with her, I still had no idea if that woman was a miraculous fount of knowledge and oracles, or if she'd just eaten too many colourful mushrooms. Sir Galahad obviously paid her some heed, but mostly he kept her around for her ability to blow stuff up.

  The sun wheeled overhead as I travelled. At one point I thought I saw dust on the horizon, leading to a moment of panic...

  ... But either I'd imagined them or else they were heading in a different direction, because the cloud faded and vanished, without granting me experience for being sneaky.

  Despite having such a small population, the canton was physically large, and it wasn't until the following day that I reached the town. I wasn't exactly on course, but I'd aimed well enough that I could see the town walls on the horizon prior to hitting the road, tall constructions built from the same grey stone that made up the bulk of the landscape in the area. Tall chimneys pierced the air within the wall, but they were all dead. Not the slightest whiff of smoke rose from any of them.

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  My Reasoning offered up theories. From the name of the town—Greyforge—the forest of chimneys were likely forges. The canton exported mithril, so in all likelihood, this was where it was smelted. I was unsure why here, and not closer to the mine; the forests on the mountains would have provided charcoal for furnaces. Perhaps it was simply that the mines were spaced apart, and this road was likely a major trade route, carrying food from Cargellen Canton to the capital.

  In any case, the mithril output of the mine might have dropped, but it hadn't stopped completely. The reason for the town's namesake forges falling silent was likely due to the loss of trade.

  That in itself was a point of interest. If merchants were heading north to avoid Harvent Canton, the longer route would mean higher delivery costs and higher prices. There would no longer be merchants bringing in mithril at all. There was no way people outside of this canton didn't know something was happening, even if they didn't know what.

  On Sir Galahad's advice, I headed to the eastern town gate. The road and gate were deserted, with only a couple of bored-looking guards leaning against the wall. I picked one whose features matched a list Sir Galahad had given me, and marched up, once again leaning on [Expert Stealth] not to hide, but to look like I belonged.

  Both guards startled when they saw me, obviously not expecting anyone to turn up, especially someone who hadn't come from the road.

  "The hell?" said one. "A kid? I've no idea why he'd risk using a kid as a messenger, but please tell me you're coming from Leo."

  "Uh... No?" I answered, wondering why he, of all people, would be mentioned. This was a guard Sir Galahad had explicitly told me was on his side. Surely he wouldn't be involved in the slave trade?

  ... Shit.

  Despite all my Reasoning, I was still so damn slow sometimes. The bandits had even mentioned Greystone, but it hadn't seemed relevant at the time, so I'd ignored it.

  That was why the bandit camp had so much food stored! It wasn't for their own use. Without merchants, how was this town eating? There was nowhere nearby to forage or hunt. Leo must have taken on the role of obtaining food from Cargellen Canton. Now Leo was dead, and the camp and its supplies were burnt, the bandits dead or scattered. Greyforge wouldn't have received food supplies for the past few days.

  How many more days until the riots started?

  "Damn. He's a day late already... If he doesn't arrive with our shipment by tomorrow, things are going to get interesting in here."

  "Uh... Can I come in, please? I have business at the temple. I have a letter of passage."

  "A letter of passage? Don't think anyone gives a toss about that sort of thing, right now, but go on then. Let's have it."

  I handed over one of the many letters in my pack, this one addressed to 'the Greyforge town guard', and watched as the guard read it.

  "Who's it from?" asked the other guard.

  "One of the count's knights," half-lied my guard, making me really glad I'd gone to him and not the other one.

  "The heck? The count's using kids for something other than mining now? Think he's finished whatever it was he was doing? But why the temple? Think he's dug up some artefact of the gods?"

  "Who knows what that man is thinking? In any case, it's too late. There's not going to be any of this canton left to save, whatever's changing. Go on in, kiddo, but don't expect a warm welcome."

  "Huh? Not going to scan him?" asked the other guard.

  "No. I was explicitly ordered not to," said the first guard, the paper in his hands bursting into flame despite a lack of any sort of visible stimulus.

  "Really? I don't want to know, then. I don't want to invite that sort of trouble."

  I hurried in before any of them changed their minds.

  To describe the town in a single word, I'd pick gloomy. Few people were on the streets, and those that were didn't seem to be going anywhere, leaning against walls and forlornly staring into the sky. This was a town in which life had been suspended, its people waiting for salvation or death.

  Even the buildings echoed the sentiment. Everything was built from the same grey stone, walls and roofs alike. There were plenty of hard edges and very little colour.

  I hurried through the streets towards the temple—its spire visible above the stone-tiled roofs, amongst the chimneys. It wasn't hard to find, and whether due to [Expert Stealth] or the population's general apathy, I wasn't bothered on the way.

  Uh... Apparently it was [Expert Stealth], then. That was concerning. Who'd been chasing me? I hadn't seen any sign of them.

  Not wanting to risk them finding me again, I rushed towards the temple.

  Here, at least, there was some colour, the temple being decorated with the same stained glass that adorned its counterpart in Greenhold. Literally the same—the windows displayed the same set of scenes, laid out in the same way. Heck, the entire temple seemed to be the same shape, despite the very different town. Were these places built to some sort of template?

  The temple doors were closed and unmanned, but unlocked, so I pushed my way in, finding myself in a wide hall that mirrored Greenhold exactly. Were it not for the view out of the door, I wouldn't be able to tell which one I was in.

  There was no-one standing around near the doors, but a priest who'd been kneeling at the foot of the altar steps looked around at the unexpected intrusion of unadulterated sunlight, spotting me and jumping to his feet.

  "I'm sorry, but we're not able to offer food or shelter," he said as he rushed over.

  "That's fine; I'm not here for either," I said.

  "If you wish to pray..."

  "I have a letter of introduction," I said, interrupting him.

  He frowned. "From who?"

  "Sir Galahad."

  The priest sighed and shook his head. "Too late. It's far too late. That man has a good heart, but if he wished to save this canton, he should have acted months ago. Let me summon the bishop; he should be the one to inspect your letter. In the meantime, feel free to pray."

  "Thank you," I said, sticking to politeness as the priest shuffled off out of the main hall.

  I hadn't been in any condition to properly observe the inside of the temple when I'd been back in Greenhold, first because of nerves and then because of unlock euphoria. Nor did I have the Memory that I now had. The hall was therefore largely new to me. I hadn't spotted the rows of statues that ran up both sides last time. Some shapes that were humanoid, others that were decidedly not. Were they the gods?

  The altar itself was a simple table on a raised platform, a few steps leading up to it. Upon the table was the orb I recognised from my previous visit, but nothing else. Behind the altar hung a tapestry, a single eye at the top and a black disk at its bottom, a few crystalline shapes lined up horizontally between the two. Lines radiated out from the black disk. What it was supposed to represent, I had no idea.

  Well, the last time I'd prayed, my prayer had come true. Admittedly, there was unlikely to be any cause and effect involved, but even so, I fixed the orb with my gaze.

  "To anyone who may be listening: this world sucks. Please fix it."

  "Ha. The simple prayers of youth," laughed a voice from behind me.

  I spun around in surprise.

  "Sorry to startle you," said an elderly man dressed in somewhat fancier robes than the earlier priest. "I hear you carry a message from a mutual acquaintance of ours. I am Bishop Cornelius. May I see what our pure-hearted knight has to say?"