Where in Valuva was the Tower of Stars? That was the question. And if you posed it to the Old Valuvanans, they likely wouldn't be able to answer. Mages, in a world where they exerted influence everywhere, seemed to live in a world apart from ordinary people.
The bridge between the two was the Magic Guild. But now, the gates of the Guild's headquarters in the Royal Capital were shut tight.
Rorschach had rushed into the city with a merchant caravan at the crack of dawn. He was exhausted and desperately needed a proper bed. After a quick inspection, Rorschach found a doorbell.
He pressed it, but there was no response. Rorschach had no choice but to start banging on the door, his pounds growing increasingly forceful.
The door slowly opened a crack. "Who is it? Do you know where this is? What time do you think it is?"
DONG... DONG... DONG... DONG... DONG... DONG... DONG...
The words had barely left his mouth when the bell of Saint Miller Monastery tolled seven times in the distance.
"It's seven o'clock, sir. Does the Guild in Valuva not open at seven?"
"QUACK!"
"Huh? Speak up!" The crack in the door widened, revealing a sleepy-eyed, freckle-faced young man inside.
Rorschach finally got a clear look at him, and he got a clear look at the visitor. "Oh, Master Mage!" The young man's movements quickened, and the door finally opened wide enough for someone to squeeze through sideways.
The two of them were alone in the golden hall. Rorschach noticed a complex mechanical structure on the wall behind the front desk, with brass pipes, levers, and a few exposed gears and dials.
"Sorry, sorry! Banging on the door at this hour, I thought it was a prank by some drunken sans-culottes!" The young man on duty waited for them both to enter, then struggled to close the door again. "It's been a long time since anyone cast an Oily Skill on these hinges!"
'Is that how you use the Oily Skill?'
Rorschach had little patience for the young man's poor work ethic and slacking. "I'm not wearing culottes, so I am indeed a sans-culotte."
"Please don't say that, sir! But you have to understand, all that banging so early in the morning is rather unseemly. Besides, there's a doorbell!"
"I did ring the doorbell, but no one responded."
"Huh?" The young man seemed to remember something and pulled two wads out of his ears. "Look at me, still groggy from sleep, I forgot I was still wearing earplugs! My apologies, my apologies, I offer you my sincerest regrets." And yet, the young man's apology was purely verbal.
"So, what business brings you to my humble abode so early?"
'This magnificent, golden hall, this entire building is your 'humble abode'?' Rorschach resisted the urge to mock him and got straight to the point. "I need to go to the Tower of Stars."
"Oh, a young Caster heading to the Tower of Stars! Then you must be... Mage Luo Sa!"
"Rorschach."
The young man bounced over to the front desk. "My apologies, Mr. Rorschach, we've been waiting for you for a long time! You see, an Empire Person coming to Valuva, to the Tower of Stars, is always a novelty. Especially since there are only so many Casters, it's a small circle, right? Your Magic Pet is a duck! What can it do? Lay golden eggs?"
"Unfortunately, he's a male." Rorschach discovered that for every sentence he uttered, the young man could fire back with three.
The young man pulled one of the many levers behind the front desk, muttering to himself, "Pending item zero-four-one-two..."
PFFT. A brass tube extended down from the ceiling to the counter and spat out a paper canister. The young man opened it, took a look, then pulled another lever. After a moment of whirring gears, a section of the wall shifted and a drawer popped out.
"Mage Rorschach, these are the items for you. My teacher asked me to give them to you. As for this card, you just need to infuse it with Magic Power, and a pointer will appear to guide you to your destination."
He rubbed his hands together happily. "My name is Pascal, an Apprentice. Mage Rorschach, what a coincidence, my mentor is also Teacher Kano! That makes us fellow apprentices..."
"Alright, Apprentice Pascal."
"I'm just working here to earn some credits..." Pascal seemed deflated. "Don't you want to know what kind of person your mentor is? A Vampire who makes his students work the desk at the Magic Guild to make up for credits?"
"Oh? And what is our mentor like? Why don't you enlighten your junior, senior apprentice?"
"Ahem." Pascal preened at being called 'senior apprentice' and began his solemn introduction:
"Lionel Kano, Tier Eight Great Mage, the new Chief Professor of the Tower of Stars, a member of the Aurora Elder Council, a high-ranking member of the Alchemy Council, a senior arbiter of the Owl Court, the only son of the Kano Clan, the most watched Caster on the Valuvanan social scene—though he's not even that handsome... A successful man who sleeps in every morning and only starts work in the afternoon, and an unqualified mentor who completely ignores his apprentices to the point that no one is willing to sign up for his research group anymore..."
'Why did he start bad-mouthing his mentor right after listing all his titles?' Setting aside the resentful commentary that followed, Rorschach could only think that the patron Teacher Caroline had recommended for him was an incredibly powerful one. 'Sigh, living in Valuva is no easy feat, but it feels like life would be much easier if I can just cling to this Master's leg!'
The young man pulled out a map and a business card, pointing to a spot on the city's central axis. "Starting at 9 o'clock every morning, Teacher Kano dines at the sky restaurant in the Starlight Torch Tower. He asked us to tell you that it's best if you go see him before heading to the Magic Tower."
The business card was simple: "Lionel Kano." The background depicted eight nested golden rings encircling a Starlight Tower. Clearly, the card revealed the man's rank as a Great Mage and his affiliation.
Considering he was going to a restaurant frequented by a High Tier Mage, Rorschach asked Pascal to look after Yazi for a while.
Following the point on the map, Rorschach once again passed by "Valuva's Stomach." The loading and unloading of goods was finished for the day, and the city's common folk and the servants of the Nobility were bustling in and out.
A butcher shop was already open for business, even using large, extremely expensive panes of glass. Piled high inside for display were plump, glistening sausages, cured meats, and fresh cuts. A few children were pressed against the glass, drooling. The burly, barrel-chested butcher came out to shoo them away, then grumbled as he wiped away the black handprints the children had left behind.
Vegetables he couldn't name filled the vendors' stalls, and they would periodically spritz their produce with water from spray bottles to keep them looking fresh and vibrant.
"Oh, Jonny, if you cook this bundle of fresh, tender, and crisp baby asparagus just right, the master will surely reward you..." One vendor, having memorized his high-value customers, was vigorously pushing his expensive vegetables.
It was still a while before nine... In his past life as a student, Rorschach had hated going to markets; they were always defined by noise and filth. But here, a long-lost, somewhat familiar feeling drew him inside.
"Valuva truly is the largest city on the Southern Continent. Even its market has a greater variety of goods than the one in the Imperial Capital."
There was a bakery. Rorschach hadn't eaten breakfast yet, so he bought a buttered bread roll. Then he went to the butcher's to get two slices of cured meat—many people could only afford to buy it by the slice, which now made it convenient for Rorschach to make his own "sandwich."
Although there was no sauce, the simple flavor wasn't bad at all. The fat and smoky flavor of the cured meat, the creamy aroma of the butter, and the fragrance of the wheat presented themselves in sequence, making Rorschach take one bite after another.
He was just about to take the last bite when a commotion broke out in the Big Market.
A dark, skinny man burst out of the seafood section in a panic. Shouts of "Stop, thief!" and "Damn sans-culottes!" followed close behind him.