Published: February 1, 2026
“Over here, adventurers, this way!”
Lizel and the others were in the East Plaza before the central district, where many people were already coming and going.
Today was setup, and the real performances would begin tomorrow, so all the work had to be finished in a single day.
It would take the whole day, but for a day’s wage the pay was good. As long as one didn’t get hung up on pride like “doing odd jobs even though I’m an adventurer,” it was a safe and decent request.
The fact that only three parties, including Lizel’s, had accepted the request suggested there were many adventurers who did cling to that pride.
One of the group who had cordoned off a corner of the plaza—apparently with permission—to stack lumber and such was waving broadly at them.
“Thank you very much for helping today! We’d like you to mainly handle the stage construction and… um?”
“Oh, we’re adventurers. I’ll be in charge of mana.”
“What!? Ah, no, I’m terribly sorry! We never imagined a mage would come help us…!”
“Strictly speaking I’m not a mage, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”
The woman, who spoke briskly like a troupe member, had for an instant let a “why is he here?” look cross her face. Lizel only answered it with a gentle smile.
The theater troupe “phantasm” was a company that traveled from town to town, from country to country, putting on plays.
They apparently had a decent level of name recognition; the members handing out flyers in the plaza were quite busy.
A fully mobile troupe with no fixed base couldn’t afford to be too large. Food, daily expenses, and all kinds of costs piled up, and protection during travel also became harder.
In comparison, it was cheaper to hire day-laboring adventurers for simple work in each place they visited. They were clearly used to dealing with adventurers.
Besides Lizel’s party there were two other parties of adventurers present, both groups of young adventurers.
In an age when “an adventurer’s worth is measured by how they face danger,” choosing a request based on good pay in defiance of that trend meant they were either cautious types or adventurers pressed for daily coin.
They had looked at Lizel’s group with a complicated gaze, wondering why they were here, but relaxed visibly when they heard he was there for mana replenishment and wouldn’t be doing heavy lifting with them.
They probably still hadn’t resolved the question of why he’d taken this kind of job, though.
“Those other two parties, please come with me! The one here for mana replenishment, please head over to that wagon—the captain is waiting for you!”
The wagon she pointed at was very large; they were probably using it to carry their stage props and construction materials. The materials now laid out neatly in the plaza for clarity had probably been loaded on that wagon as well.
Clapping her hands sharply, the woman trotted off toward the construction site, so Lizel and the others followed her instructions and walked toward the wagon in question.
Weaving through the busy members and stepping over materials, they approached the wagon and saw a woman sitting on the open back. She was likely the captain.
She was writing something with single‑minded intensity when she suddenly jerked her head up and clawed at her hair.
“It’s not enough! This isn’t nearly enough, damn it!! The love! The thrills! The sparkles of friendship!”
“Excuse me a moment. I’m the one who took the mana replenishment job.”
“You really just talk to people like that, huh…”
Lizel addressed the wailing woman calmly, earning a mix of exasperation and admiration from Gill.
The woman froze at Lizel’s words and stared at him with wide‑open eyes.
Her hair stuck out in a wild mess, and her black glasses, apparently the wrong size, had slid down her nose. She made no move to push them back up as she went completely still, and Lizel couldn’t help thinking she seemed like the artistic type.
“You’re the captain, right?”