EPISODE 29: Return to Kaigan (Part 1)

A clear morning greeted the city of Koreson. The remnants of the night's dew still clung to the leaves of the city gardens as life began to stir and pulse again.

For the God Wings party, today was a day of preparation. Given that they would be undertaking a very long sea voyage to the Southern Continent in five days' time, Karham and his team said their goodbyes early and left the inn to return to the Adventurers' Guild headquarters. They needed to gather specialized supplies, medicine, and complete the administrative paperwork for a long-duration mission.

While his students were occupied, Zenoda Blanco chose to spend his morning with a leisurely walk through Koreson's central market.

In the mortal world, survival required one crucial thing that often created headaches for a former god: money.

But Zenoda had his own method for bypassing the problem of poverty. Rather than troubling himself with hunting monsters for a few silver coins, he used a technique he called Mana Crystallization — a form of absolute-tier spell modification. By compressing pure ambient mana to its absolute saturation point, he could create synthetic crystal stones that looked and felt indistinguishable from rare gemstones. Through Master Vivaldi's connections, Zenoda sold these "jewels" to the market and to wealthy merchants, generating far more coins than his comfortable lifestyle required.

Zenoda was now moving through the crowd of the market, walking from stall to stall. His hands were busy selecting quality spices — black pepper, coriander, cinnamon, and cardamom — for his cooking stock later.

After his cloth knapsack had filled with kitchen ingredients, Zenoda's steps came to a stop in front of a brick building radiating dry heat. The rhythmic sound of a steel hammer striking an iron anvil rang from within. A blacksmith's workshop.

Looking at the smelting furnace and the row of tools displayed in the front window, his thoughts suddenly drifted. The travel route toward the Southern Continent required them to pass through the coastal port district — which meant they would be going through Kaigan Village.

The memory of Brunt and Mirida — his warm and endlessly protective human parents — drew a thin smile across Zenoda's face. He remembered how hard Brunt swung the woodcutting axe that had long gone dull, and Mirida's iron pot that had started to dent.

"I should bring them gifts," Zenoda murmured.

He stepped inside the workshop, which smelled of charcoal and molten metal. Behind the counter stood the shop's owner: a Dwarf — short and broad-shouldered, with a thick, neatly braided beard, arms as solid as tree trunks, and a leather apron blackened from years of soot.

"Welcome, young Master," the Dwarf greeted in a deep, friendly voice, setting his hammer down for a moment. "Is there something that's caught your eye in this old workshop?"

Zenoda scanned the rows of weapons along the walls before meeting the blacksmith's eyes. "Yes. Though I'm not looking for a sword or armor. I want to buy the best quality woodcutting axe you have, a strong garden hoe for farmwork, and the finest iron cooking set you carry."

The Dwarf raised one of his thick eyebrows. "Farming tools and kitchen equipment? Ahhh... I see. Rare for a young adventurer to be thinking about things like that. You're bringing them back to your parents in the village, aren't you?"

"Exactly."

Generously, the blacksmith walked to the back room and brought out what had been requested. He set down an axe with a strong oak handle, a hoe with a steel blade, and a set of pitch-black pots and pans that looked extremely sturdy.

Zenoda narrowed his eyes and ran his instincts across every inch of the items. The axe's balance was perfect, and the pots had no air pockets in the iron layering.

"These are excellent," Zenoda said with satisfaction. "I'll take one axe, one hoe, and the full cooking set."

"A wise selection, young one! Every one of them made with the sweat and pride of the dwarven craft," the blacksmith grinned until his eyes nearly disappeared. "The total comes to five silver coins."

(World Note: The currency system in use across this continent operates on a strict scale. 1 Bronze Coin equals approximately the price of one cheap loaf of bread. 100 Bronze Coins equal 1 Silver Coin. 100 Silver Coins equal 1 Gold Coin. Five silver coins for high-quality ironwork is a considerable sum for the average commoner.)

Zenoda gave a small nod. He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out the leather coin pouch he usually carried. But when he opened the string and peered inside, his eyes widened slightly.

The pouch was completely empty of bronze and silver coins.

(Good grief...) Zenoda thought internally, his flat expression tightening just a fraction. (My silver is gone. I got too caught up buying fresh meat and spices for the kids and stopped paying attention to my small change.)

Watching his customer go quiet while staring at an empty pouch, the blacksmith scratched his beard with an awkward expression.

"I know the price of these items is not cheap, Master," the Dwarf said in an apologetic yet firm tone. "But the figure is correct. Given the fuel costs involved in crafting these pieces, and the fact that high-grade iron ore prices have been rising in the capital... I'm sorry, Master. I cannot lower it."

"That's not the issue, Master Blacksmith," Zenoda replied, exhaling slowly. "The issue is that I don't have the right denominations."

With considerable reluctance, Zenoda reached deeper into his dimensional pocket storage and produced a single round piece of metal that caught the light with a brilliant yellow gleam, setting it on the workshop's wooden counter.

Clink.

A pure Gold Coin. A denomination ten thousand times the price of a loaf of bread.

The blacksmith's eyes went wide to the point of nearly departing his face entirely. His jaw dropped looking at that piece of precious metal.

"E-ehh? M-Master..." the Dwarf stammered, pointing at the gold coin with a trembling finger. "Are you certain that's what you meant to take out? That's a full gold coin!"

"I ran out of bronze and silver because I was busy shopping for some logistical supplies at the market," Zenoda explained in a tone of perfect casualness, as though the gold coin was no more remarkable than a pebble.

The blacksmith swallowed hard. "Young Master, my workshop does good business — but I have absolutely no change for ninety-five silver coins!"

Zenoda pressed two fingers to his nose bridge. Large money was sometimes more inconvenient than having no money at all.

Watching his customer's dilemma, the Dwarf's business brain engaged swiftly. He had no intention of losing this gold.

"Hmm... in that case," the blacksmith offered, his eyes brightening, "since I can see that your belongings are already quite substantial and your knapsack looks close to splitting... how would you feel about purchasing one of my personal masterpieces? A small leather bag reinforced with spatial-manipulation magic stitching. Its internal volume is one hundred times larger than its exterior. Original price: fifty silver coins!"

Zenoda looked at the leather bag etched with runic patterns being held out to him. Extra carrying capacity would genuinely be useful for storing the monster hunt results his students would bring in later.

"Hmm... not bad," Zenoda nodded in agreement.

He accepted the magical bag, then transferred all of his spice bundles, the axe, the hoe, and the iron cookware into it. Remarkably, the bag added no noticeable weight and retained its compact shape. He slung it comfortably at his side.

"An excellent choice!" the blacksmith smiled with visible relief. "But... you still have forty-five silver coins remaining in change from your gold. Do you have any other request so I don't end up owing you?"

Zenoda thought briefly. His eyes drifted to the katana at his hip, then to the edge of his linen coat, which had grown somewhat dull.

"Do you offer blade maintenance to keep an edge sharp, and restoration work on a specialized coat?" Zenoda asked.

The Dwarf puffed his chest out with pride. "For blade care, I am the authority! Sharpening, oiling, and rebalancing a blade is my daily bread. But for handling a coat made of magic-threaded fiber... could you trust that to my wife? She's a highly skilled magical seamstress."

"No objection at all," Zenoda answered.

The blacksmith immediately called toward the back room. "Darling! Could you come out here for a moment!"

The wooden door behind the display opened. Zenoda raised his eyebrow slightly. He had assumed the Dwarf's wife would be a similarly broad woman of the same race — but who stepped out was an extraordinarily beautiful Elf woman. Her long golden hair fell freely, her ears came to the characteristic pointed tips of her race, and she wore simple but elegant tailor's clothing. A Dwarf and Elf pairing was an uncommon sight, but love in the mortal world had evidently proven to be blind to race.

"I'm his wife," the Elf greeted in a voice as melodious as wind chimes. "Is there something I can help you with, young Master?"

"Ah, yes," Zenoda nodded.

He stepped back one pace. To draw out the specialized coat created by Mincilia — which he kept stored within his soul's resonance — he needed to coax it out with mana.

Zenoda closed his eyes. He didn't incant a spell — instead, he slowly channeled pure mana from the depths of his soul outward to the surface of his skin. At once, his black hair lifted without any wind. When he opened his eyes, his dark pupils had changed to the same luminous white as when he had fought Meoda.

A dense, brilliantly sacred cloud of golden mana gathered around Zenoda's shoulders and back. Within seconds, the light condensed and solidified into a long, pristine white coat adorned with magnificent gold tribal markings.

Once the coat had fully formed on his body, Zenoda shut off the mana flow. His eyes returned to deep black in an instant.

With an unhurried gesture, Zenoda removed the white tribal-gold coat and held it out to the Elf woman. Then, he unclipped his katana in its ebony scabbard from his belt and handed it to the blacksmith.

The moment the Elf wife's fingertips made contact with the coat's fabric, her emerald eyes went wide. Her hands trembled as they felt the quality of fiber that did not originate from this world. At the same moment, as the Dwarf received Zenoda's katana, the muscles of his arm tensed. The weight of history and the divine blessed aura emanating from the blade nearly buckled the dwarf's knees.

Both of them were shaken beyond what they could easily conceal. Their craftsman's instincts screamed that these two objects were god-tier artifacts that could bring down kingdoms if misused. But as professionals of considerable experience, they strained to remain still and hide their shock.

The blacksmith cleared his throat with a great deal of force to redirect his own tension.

"Ehem! H-hmmmm... Your items are truly of extraordinary... quality, Master," the Dwarf managed, his voice slightly unsteady. "But the blade maintenance and coat restoration... I feel this still won't be enough to use up the remaining balance of your gold coin, Master."

Hearing that his gold coin still hadn't been fully spent, Zenoda slapped his own forehead.

"Hah... In that case..." Zenoda thought quickly. "...Ahhh! Master, could you please watch over my belongings and my knapsack for a short while? Please wait here."

The blacksmith nodded in confusion. "Ehh? Of course, no problem at all, Master. We'll take good care of your belongings in the meantime."

Zenoda immediately turned, walked out of the blacksmith's workshop, and the moment he reached the relatively quiet street outside, he bent his knees and launched straight up into the air, landing on the rooftop of the nearest stone building.

"Alright. Time to find something to spend the rest of this money on," Zenoda murmured.

He closed his eyes. "Mana Detection."

A mana-wave tracking spell activated. Zenoda mapped the entire city of Koreson inside his head like a radar system, searching for the specific mana signatures of two individuals he knew. Within two seconds, he had their coordinates.

Zenoda opened his eyes — and at a speed that exceeded the visual processing limits of any mortal human, he ran, vaulting across rooftop after rooftop of the capital's buildings, moving with lightning velocity toward Koreson Academy. Wind screamed against his body as he cut through the air.

At an open training courtyard in the Academy, Rion and Sylvi were engaged in a serious sparring drill. Rion held up his tower shield — already covered in scrapes and dents — blocking the strikes of a magic training dummy, while Sylvi practiced the incantation sequence for a light-element healing spell.

WHOOOOSH.

A small gale-force wind suddenly swept across the courtyard, sending dry leaves spiraling into the air. In the middle of that wind, Zenoda was simply standing in front of them, arms crossed, as though he had been there the whole time.

"Rion, Sylvi. Do you have time to come with me for a short while?" Zenoda asked casually, as though he hadn't just teleported from across the city.

Rion, startled badly, nearly dropped his shield. "E-eh?! Master Zenoda? I-if you're asking me, yes, I have time. There are no more classes today. Sylvi?"

Sylvi adjusted her slightly wind-blown glasses. "I-I'm fine with it, Master Zenoda..."

"Perfect."

Without any further preamble, Zenoda stepped forward. He grabbed the back of Rion's armor collar with his right hand and the back of Sylvi's robe collar with his left hand — and using the transcendent physical strength that defied all rational understanding, he picked up both mortal teenagers as though lifting two empty shopping bags.

"Eh? Master Zenoda?! What are you—"

"Hold your breath," Zenoda cut in.

He bent his knees and jumped twenty meters straight into the air.

"GYAAAAAAAHHHHH!" Rion and Sylvi screamed in unison as the earth abruptly fell away beneath their feet.

Zenoda sprinted at full speed across the rooftops of Koreson's residential buildings. The wind hammered the faces of both unfortunate students hard enough that they couldn't open their eyes or breathe properly. In under five seconds, Zenoda braked and landed smoothly — precisely in front of the blacksmith's workshop he had visited earlier.

He set Rion and Sylvi down on the ground. Both of them immediately collapsed to sitting, completely dizzy, their hair a disaster as though they had been struck by a hurricane.

Zenoda walked into the workshop calmly, dusting off his hands.

Watching Zenoda suddenly reappear dragging two half-conscious teenagers, the Dwarf blacksmith swallowed in something close to fear.

"Ehh... Master... you're not planning to kidnap someone, harvest organs, or sell people into slavery, are you?!" the blacksmith accused in panic, his hand instinctively reaching for the handle of his hammer just in case.

Zenoda rolled his eyes with thoroughgoing exasperation. "Of course not, Master. These are my students."

Zenoda then pointed at Rion's battered shield and Sylvi's sad-looking wooden staff. "I'd like you and your wife to repair or commission new weapons and defensive magical gear for both of them if needed. Use the best materials you have."

Hearing an order of that scale, the blacksmith's eyes lit back up immediately. He looked over Rion and Sylvi's equipment.

"Hmmmm... If I completely rebuild this young man's shield with a Mithril alloy, and my wife weaves a defensive magic robe for this young lady... that would be more than enough to cover the remaining balance of your gold coin, young Master!" the blacksmith declared with delight. "And while I'm at it, I'll throw in a few additional pieces — a potion belt, a defense bracelet — that would be useful for their adventuring activities! Consider it goodwill toward a customer who brought such extraordinary fortune to my shop today!"

Zenoda smiled slightly. He was very satisfied with that practical solution.

On the floor, Rion was rubbing his head as his dizziness slowly cleared. "What... what happened, Zenoda? Why are we suddenly in a blacksmith's workshop?"

Zenoda looked at Rion with a perfectly innocent face. "Well... I had more money than I needed from some recent sales, and the blacksmith here didn't have enough change. So, since I happened to remember that your combat equipment was in rather poor condition after fighting the mutant monsters in the forest... I took the initiative to buy you both new gear while also solving my change problem."

Hearing a reason this spectacularly casual ("because I had extra money and there was no change"), Rion and Sylvi could only stare blankly. Their instructor was completely unpredictable. Yet despite everything, warmth filled their chests. Zenoda always looked after their safety in his own uniquely rough-edged way.

"Thank you so much, Master Zenoda!" Sylvi exclaimed, bowing deeply.

"We'll make good use of this equipment!" Rion added with fierce determination.

After the weapon design discussion and measurements were done, Zenoda left Rion and Sylvi at the workshop for their armor fitting and picked up his spice-filled knapsack, setting out on foot back toward the Silver Swan Inn.

When he arrived in front of his room on the inn's third floor, Zenoda stopped in his tracks.

In the corridor outside his door, four adventurers with silver Guild badges were sitting cross-legged on the floor with their backs to the wall, waiting with unmistakably pathetic expressions. They were Karham, Ziryal, Annesia, and Linaya — the full core formation of the God Wings party.

Zenoda raised his eyebrow. "Why are you all gathered here? Weren't you supposed to be busy sourcing mission supplies at the Guild?"

Karham scratched the back of his neck with a grimace. "Well... you could say our preparation tasks today finished much faster than expected. And we've already packed everything."

The broad-framed young man then looked at Zenoda with an expression of pure, unrestrained hope. "So... I was hoping the Instructor would be willing to let us stay in the Instructor's VIP room until the King's departure mission begins in five days!"

"Please, Instructooorrrr?" Annesia whined, pressing both palms together in supplication with a face of such extreme tragedy she resembled an abandoned puppy. Linaya added a sweet smile beside her that was deeply difficult to refuse.

Zenoda pressed his fingers to his temple. His room was gradually transforming into an orphanage. "Hold on. Does this mean you're not taking any more missions after this? No earning extra money?"

Ziryal, leaning against the door, shook his head. "More precisely — we've been banned from taking missions."

"Banned?"

"Yes," Ziryal explained with a sigh. "The Guild Master knows our habits perfectly well. If we were left idle at the Guild, we'd inevitably keep taking mission after mission — it doesn't matter whether it's something as trivial as finding a lost cat or exterminating monsters, as long as we're working. The Guild Master didn't want us to be exhausted before the King's state-level mission began. He kicked us out and ordered us to rest completely."

Hearing that his students had apparently developed a severe acute workaholic syndrome as a direct result of his own harsh training methods, Zenoda could only slap his forehead.

"Hahhhh... Alright, fine," Zenoda said in resigned surrender, turning his key in the door. "Do whatever you like. The room is big enough. This time I'll just go along with what you're asking. Come in."

All four students cheered with delight and immediately poured through the door, rushing to claim their preferred spots on the plush carpet.

That evening, the atmosphere inside Zenoda's room was lively and chaotic. Zenoda was in the small kitchen, chopping meat and mixing the spices he had bought that morning, cooking a large-scale dinner. The rich, savory aroma of braised meat filled the air, making every stomach in the room protest loudly.

Just as the food was being laid out on large plates...

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A hesitant tapping came at the door. When Ziryal opened it, three young men in oversized sleeping robes were standing at the threshold, looking at the dinner spread with unambiguously hungry eyes.

Cedric, Valerius, and Agru — the three clownish nobles whose rooms were at the far end of the corridor.

"Zenoda... can we eat here?" Cedric asked with an utterly shameless, endearing smile.

Instant silence fell over the room. Karham, Ziryal, Annesia, and Linaya — all of whom had been holding their cutlery — turned their heads in perfect unison. Every pair of eyes in the room fixed on the three nobles who had simply shown up uninvited to intrude on their party's exclusive dinner. The look on the adventurers' faces communicated one thing with remarkable clarity: Do you three have absolutely no shame?

The three clownish nobles, being stared at with what amounted to killing intent, felt a twinge of genuine fear. Cold sweat formed at the backs of their necks.

"E-eh... A-actually, I think we'll just eat out. Sorry to bother you!" Valerius announced in a panic, already turning to leave.

But before any of them could escape, Zenoda's low voice stopped them.

"Come in and sit down. Don't waste food I've already cooked."

Having received official permission from the host, the three nobles abandoned their pride entirely, trotted inside, and squeezed themselves into the far end of the table, making a slightly awkward attempt to blend in.

The atmosphere at the table was initially somewhat stiff. After all, Valerius and Cedric had once been symbols of insufferable arrogance at the Academy. But the warmth of Zenoda's food slowly thawed the tension. They began to eat and enjoy the meal.

Karham — realizing that they would all be traveling together on a very long journey to the Southern Continent alongside these three nobles — started to think practically. For good team synergy to develop, the social wall between them needed to come down tonight.

The broad-framed young man set down his spoon, swallowed his mouthful, and looked at Cedric, Valerius, and Agru with a genuinely open smile.

"Hey," Karham said, breaking the quiet.

The three nobles looked up.

"Since all of us are about to head toward the coast to board the royal ship..." Karham said in a warm tone, "...would you like to hear a story about our small coastal village? The place where our Instructor lived and trained us?"

At the offer of hearing the origin story of the most powerful young man they had ever encountered, the eyes of Cedric, Valerius, and Agru lit up with instant, undivided interest.

"Ehhhh?!" all three exclaimed simultaneously, their chewing coming to a complete stop.

Zenoda, in the middle of sipping his tea, could only offer a thin smile.

Days like this — peaceful, warm, and ordinary — were something he was willing to protect. Even if protecting them meant tearing a lethal shadow syndicate called Purple Snake into pieces.


(Thanks for reading! If you want to support the story and read up to 10 chapters ahead, check out the https://www.patreon.com/c/nightpen90. Otherwise, see you on Wednesday!)