When Cere awoke, she found that her sage-green flannel blanket had fallen onto the floor. Her single-sized wooden bed creaked softly as she shuffled toward her forlorn blanket, trying to pull it back up.

The medieval-style room was small with its only furnishing being a bed, table, and chair. On her table was an unused wax candle and a metal tinderbox.

Sunlight was pouring through her modest single-paned window, revealing floating dust particles and obscuring the outside view.

When Cere got out of her bed and approached the window, she was then able to see the street below, packed with countless people carrying out their daily lives. Unlike in the outskirts, even the commoner citizens of Runia donned stylishly designed clothing.

Today, Cere was free to explore Runia for as long as she wanted. But tomorrow, there was nothing more important than being present for the king’s proclamation—one of the most remarkable events to be recorded in history, and an event that families on the outskirts deemed worthy to spend their entire coinage for.

However, first and foremost, the most important thing right now, was indeed, Cere’s rumbling stomach. Because there was an adequate amount of time before noon, the inn was still serving breakfast in its diner.

Cere learned the hard way that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. In the past, on her spacecraft, there was one time when she had refused to eat breakfast due to a foul mood, and it made the rest of her day a living nightmare. After she had completed her combat training, she was left with multiple bruises spread around her limbs and could barely walk. She was so thankful that her task afterwards was only studying rather than running tens of kilometers on the Nature Route.

When Cere was making her way to the diner, she had to cross by the inn’s entrance. When the innkeeper saw Cere, she called out to her.

“Good morning. Are you interested in having breakfast?”

“Yes. I was making my way to the diner.”

“Okay. Take a seat wherever you’d like; your meal will be ready soon.”

Because Cere had reserved a room overnight, breakfast was included along with her accommodation.

The entire inn, including the diner, had a comfortable wooden interior. Inside the diner were ten tables, each accompanied by a number of chairs ranging from two to six. Three of the tables had already been taken by others.

Cere, having no companions, chose to sit at a two-person table. There was no need for a menu, as everyone was served the same breakfast. Since the diner was on the first floor, the street outside could be seen clearly through the surrounding large windows.

While Cere was kicking her legs under the table in anticipation for her meal, she caught the attention of several people from other tables.

Why is the child of a noble eating at a place like this? Shouldn’t she be within the inner wall?

But Cere had not noticed these stares, as she was enjoying the outside view. Her ragged clothes were yet again unable to dispel any presumptions of her true background.

“Here you go, little miss. Enjoy.”

“Ah, thank you very much.”

On the wooden slab were two loaves of bread along with a scoop of butter, and on the side was a potage with potatoes and carrots. It was a rather simple meal, just like the supper she had with the Miller family. Nonetheless, it was enough to satisfy her. After all, now that her training had ended, a large, nutritious meal was no longer crucial.

As Cere was slowly munching on her buttered bread, the stares continued once again.

Why is she eating all alone? Where are her parents?

This time, their thoughts were rather pitying. Cere, who was sitting alone at a two-person table, did not seem like she was expecting to meet with anyone else.

Normally, a parent would never leave their child alone for this long, as the inn’s employees assumed no responsibility over their safety. It may seem cruel, but during busy hours, waiters were too hampered with serving customers to be watching over skittish children.

After Cere finished her breakfast, she raised her hand to signal for a waiter.

“How may I help you?”

“I am finished with my meal.”

The waiter had a confused look. Usually, when people finished their meals, they would leave without a single word—this was a known custom in the commoner parts of Runia.

“Oh. Thank you. I will clear up the table then.”

Because Cere’s behavior was out of the ordinary, the waiter was feeling a little awkward as he could not immediately come up with a polite way of saying “You didn’t have to let me know.”

And so, Cere left the diner in high spirits, ignorant of everything that happened in there. Feeling energized, she now only had one thing in mind—to have a lot of fun exploring the kingdom. At the side of the bustling street, Cere took a deep breath of fresh air before putting on her hood.

The market stalls that were empty during daybreak were now all fully stocked with stallholders behind them. Names of products and discounts were being shouted to attract the attention of passersby.

“Apples and oranges!”

“Rare gems and jewels that nobles use!”

“Hand-crafted accessories, only half a silver!”

The atmosphere was peaceful and spirited with laughter and conversations coming in all directions. The decorated brick path was being shared by aesthetic carriages and children donning animated faces while holding hands with their parents.

Cere decided to take another look at her permit, which she had stuffed into a pocket underneath her robe. It was a small, brown, square-shaped piece of paper that was just big enough to contain the words inscribed onto it—Janus, 02, 11.

She did not know what the word nor the numbers meant, but it likely signified the identity of the clerk who signed it along with a date of sorts. All of these details should become clear when Cere receives another permit—that is, when she gets it renewed in two days’ time.

The first place she chose to enter was an armory. Swords, axes, and spears filled the walls to the brim. Sitting on the floor along the sides of the shop were large, opened chests that had shields stacked on top of each other. And at the back of the shop, behind the counter, were several armor stands. At this time, no one else was in the shop besides the owner.

“Welcome! …Err.”

The shopkeeper’s initial enthusiastic greeting died down after he had noticed that his customer was only a mere child.

“Hello.” Cere spoke politely and glanced around the shop.

“You looking for something in particular?”

“Ah, no. I’m only taking a look around.”

The shopkeeper was a tall, muscled man who seemed to be in his thirties. He had very short brown hair and tanned skin.

After hearing that Cere had entered his shop with no intentions of purchasing anything, he sat back down on his chair and continued to keep an eye on her.

He despondently watched Cere as she looked through his various chests and weapons, believing that his creations were being underappreciated. After all, what would a little girl know about these types of things? Children her age would normally be playing with dolls and shopping with their parents. Besides, they shouldn’t be able to lift any of them even after mustering their full strength. But then—

“This sword is really well made! Can I try holding it?” Cere pointed at a sword on the wall.

The man’s eyes widened with curiosity.

The sword that Cere showed interest in was the best that the store had to offer. If one were to judge weapons by appearance, only veteran crafters or warriors should have been able to notice.

“It’s very heavy. You sure?”

“Yes, it is no problem.”

“Alright.”

The man took down the sword and handed it to Cere by its hilt, releasing it slowly into her hands to protect her in case she overestimated herself. But Cere grasped it fully out of the man’s hand and swung it with ease.

Huh…?

He was baffled.

The little girl who was fully cloaked under a hooded robe was waving his heavy sword with a single hand as if she were used to it.

“The sharpness and balance are both great. It’s very comfortable to use.”

“Yeah… but how could you tell before holding it?”

“Hm? The blade’s edges are uniformly sharp, and its structural design reinforces durability and stability. The craftsmanship was easy to see.”

The shopkeeper was from a family of blacksmiths who passed down secret techniques to their next of kin.

The armaments in the shop were all his creations, and although decent, could not be considered exceptional. But since his customers only consisted of laymen or lower-class guards, the quality expectations were rather low.

As more and more time had passed, he felt that the extra effort in applying his artisanship were underappreciated and thus a waste of time. Though rarely, when he was in a favorable mood, he would put his heart into making one that he could be truly proud of.

The sword that Cere had shown an interest in was the best sword in the shop—one that made full use of his family’s secret techniques. To him, a little girl seemed to have noticed what his more experienced customers had not, and to see her swing it with such expertise left him dumbfounded.

“Thank you.” Cere handed the sword back.

“Yeah… no problem, little miss.”

Cere bowed politely and left the shop.

After she had left, the artisan had a revelation.

I guess I’m just like my customers, unable to judge something for what it truly is.

He had gained the motivation to put forth full effort into his future creations, not knowing that the little girl he met that day was not exactly normal.

As for Cere, there was still lots to do.