“How do I use this?” Gaius muttered, staring down at the wooden treasure that had gotten a bunch of grown men all nervous and antsy. The claim that this box was able to let its holder enter the world outside was probably a red herring. If it was real, it would have little value for Gaius too; it was not something he needed at all.

“Drip blood on it?” La-Ti, who was playing pretend with the other kids in the courtyard with some rather heroic-looking figures, looked up at Gaius.

“Drip blood?” Gaius asked.

“That’s what all the stories you’ve brought for me recently say!”

Gaius clapped his hands, creating a small cloud of dust. “They do?”

La-Ti nodded eagerly. Gaius rubbed his head, somewhat bemused. He’d asked some of his regular customers to recommend some books for his little apprentice, and the kid had taken a shine to the fantasy books that came in the boxes.

Which, by the way, looked like a very ordinary recounting of history on Orb, but being able to fly in Cybral was not a normal whatsoever. That said, it was still the first time he’d heard about dripping blood on something that was an alleged artefact; mechanisms like that simply didn’t exist on Orb.

Under his apprentice’s shiny eyes, however, Gaius had little choice but to comply. Biting his thumb lightly, Gaius watched —somewhat expectantly— as a fat bead of blood welled out of his thumb, and for a moment, he wondered why a soul, and especially a soul in Cybral, had blood. Was it something that simply existed because his subconscious expected it?

Or was it a symbolic action to mean something else?

The bead of blood fell onto the cube and landed on its top, turning into a dark red stain. Gaius and La-Ti watched with bated breath for a moment or so, but after one minute, nothing had happened.

Rolling his eyes, the boy pocketed the cube. “That was anti-climactic. But again, I didn’t really expect much…”

La-Ti looked a bit disappointed, and after some urging by Gaius to continue practicing, the little apprentice picked up the knife and returned to work. After spending a minute to mock himself, Gaius also took his own advice and began to whittle down some wood.

His mind, however, was a tad off kilter.

It was completely inconceivable for someone here to know the name of any of Orb’s great gods, since as far as Gaius knew, he and the Chanter of Innocents were the only ones capable of shuttling between Cybral and the outside world. No matter how insane the men earlier sounded, Gaius was fairly certain that there was some truth behind or even within those words.

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He ran his mind through the conversation again, trying to make sense of it.

A small flaw appeared on his block of wood at that moment, and he placed it down onto his table. Was this related to the imminent war between the humans and the demons? Gaius couldn’t exactly rule it out, not with every single sign pointing at the Great Divide’s fall being the second and greatest crossroads for Orb’s future.

He stared at the wooden block with a chip on it, depressed. The more he knew, the worse it got, and for a moment, Gaius really wanted to just forget it all and live for the moment.

“Craftsman Gai-Us!”

The boy lifted his head, to see a familiar face walk into his courtyard. “Thel-Da. To what pleasure do I owe this visit to?”

“Your masterpieces have drawn the attention of my employers. They were used in the housewarming party of a mansion in City No.78112, and it was a great success,” she replied.

Gaius thought for a moment, and then recalled that 78112 was two thousand-plus kilometres east of 2558’s easternmost border. It was a wasteland there, with little in the way of numbers and resources, but the Thel family was rich enough to cover these gaps with money.

The numbered cities used to be arranged with some sense applied to it, but instances where prominent families moved or created entire cities was incredibly common. In fact, from the way the news reported it, it felt like a rite of passage for families to break into upper society.

Of course, such moves were good news, since the indulgents — people who disdained working and spent their days in dreams — would flood over to the newly vacated city and shove down the luxurious remains there. That said, dangerous items like hot weapons were naturally taken away, but what passed as scraps in the eyes of the rich were positively feasts for those who languished in dreams.

“They want to commission more?” Gaius asked. At first, he would still be rather excited about new work, but now that he was probably one of the richer fellows around here…well, sculpting for a hobby was more relaxing than sculpting for money.

“Naturally,” she replied. Lowering her voice, she added, “The next sculptures we want to commission are far harder, though. Are you up for a challenge?”

“Far harder?” Gaius looked into her eyes, which were the same shade of brown as her hair. “Am I to sculpt something like a legendary monster or something?”

“How did you guess?” Thel-Da looked at Gaius with one eye closed. “I suppose this isn’t something you’ve done for the first time, then. But there’s a difference between those other commissions and mine.”

Gaius, who was about to explain that he hadn’t done commissions of such a nature before, changed his words at the last sentence. “Difference? Did you somehow find a legendary being in the flesh?”

“Yes.” Her eyes gleamed. “The family has a rather…exotic guest. They would like you to create a sculpture for it.”

“Details first,” Gaius replied. “Although…I must confess, I am rather intrigued.”

“That’s a given.”

“Take a seat, then.”

La-Ti came over at that moment, bearing a tray of drinks. After thanking him, Gaius turned to Thel-Da. “Tell me about this commission.”