BakingTray POV:

  The beginner city was as lively as ever—groups of four, five, six, sometimes even more pyers strolling through the streets.

  Some moved in duos. A handful were still solo, actively refusing to join a party.

  The type that thought it made them cool or mysterious.

  In reality, they just fell behind for no reason, unable to clear dungeons alone.

  Pathetic.

  I slipped into one of the lesser-known inns in the capital, a small pce you wouldn’t notice unless you were actually looking for it.

  Not many people came here, but the food was exceptionally good—and on rare occasions, it even granted small buffs.

  Rare, but worth it.

  As I pushed the door open, my eyes nded on the bald innkeeper behind the counter, wearing an apron and polishing the same cup for way longer than necessary.

  Scanning the few patrons inside, my gaze finally settled on a red-haired dwarf with a chunky nose and a thick, braided beard.

  Bingo.

  I walked over, pulled out the chair across from him, and sat down without a word, leaning back comfortably.

  “Sup, Austin.”

  Before he could answer, he let out a low growl and took a long sip from his oversized beer mug.

  It felt like sitting across from an elderly man.

  “What’s good, gang,” he finally said, grinning. “Took me forever to find time to jump in. But damn—you’ve clearly been busy. Level twenty already? That’s actually insane.”

  He took another sip and set the mug down with a heavy thud.

  “The game’s been out for two and a half weeks,” I replied. “What did you expect? That I’d sit around doing nothing all day?”

  I waved over the cat girl in a maid outfit who was rushing between tables with way too many ptes stacked in her arms, looking visibly distressed.

  She noticed my gesture and hurried over, barely keeping everything from toppling.

  “H-How may I help you, kind sir?” she asked between breaths.

  “I’ll take a mango juice,” I said, then pointed at the grumpy dwarf across from me.

  “And another beer for this young gentleman.”

  “Coming right up, sir!”

  The maid bowed before rushing off into the kitchen, the wooden door loosely swinging shut behind her.

  The grumpy-looking dwarf leaned back in his chair, sitting like a wannabe gangster kid who thought posture was optional.

  “So, man… you’ve pyed a lot already, right?”

  His voice was calm, but I could hear the irritation simmering underneath.

  And just like I expected, he snapped.

  “Then tell me why the fuck I can’t find a single goddamn quest in this shit-ass city?!”

  He smmed his fist down on the table hard enough to crack the wood.

  “Woah—calm down, G,” I said quickly. “Don’t break the table.”

  I leaned forward, lowering my voice before we got kicked out of this fine establishment.

  “I feel you though. The game doesn’t do pre-generated quests.”

  As I spoke, I casually activated a repair spell—one I’d picked up after fighting a mimic during my first dungeon clear with Pup.

  The cracked wood twisted and churned, slowly sealing itself back together.

  “You could say the world itself is alive,” I continued. “NPCs act even when you’re not around, and the system constantly generates random events.”

  Austin nodded along, eyes glued to the spot where the table had just healed itself.

  “That’s thanks to their new AI,” I added. “It can replicate something close to consciousness.”

  Right on cue, the cat maid silently returned, pcing our drinks down before excusing herself just as quickly.

  I picked up my mango juice, enjoying the soft sweetness and creamy texture as Austin finally spoke again.

  “That’s shitty as fuck… but also really cool,” he said, stroking his beard.

  “So how do I find a quest then?”

  I opened my menu and scrolled straight to my friends list.

  “I’ve got a usual guy I get quests from,” I said. “I’ll introduce you—but first, party up.”

  I sent out the invite.

  A second ter, a new name appeared beneath Lavapup’s on the side of my vision.

  Where there had been two names, there were now three.

  “Lavapup?” Austin asked, one eyebrow rising as he stared into seemingly nothing.

  “I keep hearing that name. She famous or something?”

  I finished my mango juice and stood up, fixing my cloak so it sat just right.

  “Well, she is the first one to receive a title,” I said.

  “And she progressed the world story, so yeah… I figured she’d be talked about.”

  Across from me, Austin chugged the rest of his beer, wiped the foam from his beard, and stood as well.

  “I see…”

  He didn’t rise much in height, though.

  After all—he was still a dwarf.

  A short while ter, we stood in front of the old wooden door.

  As I pushed it open, that familiar scent of aged wood immediately invaded my nostrils.

  “Hello, old man, it is I—BakingTray!”

  I announced loudly, only to be instantly shut up by the sight of shining silver armor right in front of me.

  A dragon emblem was embedded into the chestpte, trimmed in proud gold.

  An Imperial Knight.

  Rarely ever seen in the city—most of them stayed behind the pace gates.

  Behind her, Borealis peeked out from the counter, his bald head polished just as cleanly as ever.

  The moment he saw me, his face lit up, fshing a wide smile full of perfectly white teeth.

  “BakingTray! Oh, it’s so good to see you—you came at just the right time!”

  He rushed out from behind the counter and grabbed my shoulders.

  I tensed for half a second… then rexed just as quickly.

  Patting his shoulder, I gently pushed him back to put some space between us.

  “It’s good to see you too, Borealis. It’s been a while,” I said. “But what exactly is going on here?”

  I raised an eyebrow, gncing past him at the tall knight.

  Noticing my gaze, she stepped forward, nudging Borealis aside without much effort.

  She stopped right in front of me.

  “So you must be BakingTray…”

  Her green eyes gleamed faintly through the helmet’s visor, her voice cold and devoid of emotion—exactly what you’d expect from a dutiful knight.

  “I am,” I replied calmly. “And may I ask why a knight of the Imperial Pace is standing inside a semi-good wandsmith’s shop?”

  I pointed casually at the dark-skinned, chubby man behind her.

  “Hey! I make high-quality wands, you rascal!”

  Borealis protested.

  The knight, Austin, and I collectively ignored him.

  We stared each other down in silence—tense, sharp—like the moment before a cage fight.

  Then—

  She dropped to her knees.

  I staggered back, immediately gncing at Austin, who looked just as shocked.

  “Sir BakingTray,” the knight said, removing her helmet and letting long wheat-colored hair fall free. “Her Majesty has sent me to rey a message.”

  She pulled out a scroll and began to read.

  “Dear Sir BakingTray, I, Princess Veronica of Rosefield, wish to express my sincerest gratitude for your heroic act of saving me from the Hornbears.

  In recognition of this deed, I have arranged a festival, where I would like to formally crown you a Knight of Honor.”

  My heartbeat stopped.

  My mind fshed back to that time Pup and I were out leveling—when I’d stumbled across a young girl in danger purely by accident.

  Never.

  Not once.

  Had I imagined her to be a princess.