In the round table room full of bitter old men…

「…And these are the so-called drakes I have mentioned. Pass them around. And be careful with them, they costed a small fortune.」

The salt and pepper-bearded man says, as he passes a handful of drakes in various denominations to the man sitting nearby.

「…Papers?」

The man asks, looking at the one-denomination golden drake with a ridicule-filled smirk on his face while browsing through the other banknotes.

「Yes. Papers. This is not a ploy, and I have not been scammed. Ear’s men can verify this. This is the Redwing Kingdom’s new money. I have absolutely no idea why or how their population simply accepted this, but this complicates our plans.」

The graying man replies, explaining further as the banknotes are passed around the table. The old men flip them around in their hands, admiring the unbelievably detailed art fit to hang up on a display.

「Complicates? This ruins our plans! What of the coin plan now!? What good will the lead coins do us, if they use… Paper slips now!?」

Scale angrily slams his hands on the table in exasperation, letting out angry sighs. He receives one of the drakes and begins looking it over.

「Calm yourself, Scale. This complicates our plan, but it can also work in our favor. Indeed, the coin plan is too dangerous to execute now-」

「And just as we were ready to execute it!」

Scale interrupts the graying man with more aimless complaints, looking up from the fifty drakes bill.

「…Perhaps, but now we can recover the gold, Scale. We must abandon the plan, they would certainly get suspicious about a large amount of gold being suddenly inserted into their economy. However… Scale, how difficult do you figure would forging these papers be?」

The graying man asks as his fellow old man looks through the drakes in front of him, still in awe of the detailed art. His eyes come up from the papers, and he looks at his fellows before noisily clearing his throat.

「Ahem… The papers themselves are of no importance. I can divert some of my existing manufacturing to that end… But these… Stamps?…」

Scale looks at almost lifelike representation of the kind, yet intimidating visage of the current Redwing monarch on the bill.

「I believe they’re called prints. They print them, or somesuch…」

The man with the graying beard clarifies quickly.

「These prints… I don’t see any Otto ridges or anything else to that effect… I believe this… Rather impressive art is meant to be a measure against counterfeiting itself. I am not sure how they accomplished this…」

Scale grimaces heavily, looking at Redwing on the bill, as well as other members of the Redwing dynasty.

「…Does that mean you will be unable to-?」

「When did I say I will be unable to make these!?」

Scale takes offense at his colleague’s unfinished question, causing him to clear his throat.

「…Then, when do you believe you’ll be able to replicate the first of these… Drakes?」

His graying middle-aged colleague asks, spreading his hands as some of the banknotes begin to return to him.

「It’s hard to say. Certainly the quality of the art will be difficult, not impossible to replicate. I will have to commission an artist, and a trustworthy one at that… Not to mention, I am completely at loss in regard to just how they managed to produce enough of these to satisfy their needs.」

「How many do you think you will produce, assuming the best case?」

「Perhaps a handful per day. I will need a large investment to begin.」

Scale replies, shrugging his shoulders and passing along the last bill in his hands.

「…I see. Use the gold recovered from the coin plan, then. It should prove to be more than enough.」

The graying man nods, and a brief silence falls upon the round table room. A faint blue magic light casts shadows on the hooded figures’ faces.

「…Am I correct in assuming that this initiative to replace the gold coins with paper comes from the same man who installed the Redwing princess by force?」

Another old man asks, looking at the graying man.

「You are correct, yes… However, the gold, silver and copper coins are still in use. It’s their taxes that can only be paid with these papers.」

The graying man holds one of the banknotes and shows its art to his colleague for the emphasis.

「…And this man… Who is he, exactly? He seems one step ahead of us in all matters. It’s almost suspicious… Almost as if…」

The old man asks, looking around the room at the hooded figures.

「…Are you suggesting there is a traitor among us? Then stop being coy and point your finger at him.」

Another old man demands with an insistent, harsh tone.

「That is not what I said, I am simply implying-」

「Yes, what is it that you are implying? If you believe this circle is compromised, you are free to-」

The two old men bicker from across the room at each other, and the man with the graying beard raises his hands.

「Colleagues, please… Calm yourselves. We have had many successes previously, that we would not have had if not for our cooperation…」

He reminds the bitter, bickering old men, who immediately cross their arms and go silent.

「Some momentary setbacks are not worth arguing over. No plan ever fully goes to plan. This is the whole reason why our council is so large and broad. Indeed, we have recently been… Outmaneuvered, so to say. But it is all temporary, I assure all of you.」

The middle-aged man offers a voice of reason, and some of the hooded old men nod their heads gently in agreement. The bickering old men sigh and place their elbows back on the stone table.

「Fair enough. But the question remains… Who is this man? Some escaped aristocrat? A throne whisperer? King-maker? He managed to turn back an army in single combat… Against a famed duelist no less. Introduced this stupid paper money. Now, he’s on a war campaign against the rebels… I fail to believe he is acting out of the goodness of his heart. I have heard he demanded the Redwing queen’s hand?」

The old man asks again, inquiring about Straf’s identity.

「We have surprisingly little information on him and on his past. He appeared seemingly from nowhere. No family, not a trace of him until recently. Interestingly, he almost won the tournament in Kreisfeld…」

「Even the tournament!?」

「…Yes. I am under the impression he is using a false identity. There is no other way. The relationship between him and the Redwing queen is… Muddy. Even Ear’s men are uncertain.」

The graying man nods his head and picks up one of the bills again, looking at its art.

「But who is he? A steward? Marshal? Spymaster? I have never heard of a spymaster leading armies!」

The old man exclaims in exasperation while spreading his hands, looking at his fellow old men who nod along in agreement.

「He is neither a steward, a marshal, or a spymaster. He holds some odd, new position in the Redwing queen’s court…」

The graying man rubs his salt and pepper beard as he looks intently at the drake in his hand.

「And that is?」

「…Finance minister.」

The graying man replies, looking at Straf’s grinning face on the drake…

…

「…This is the best you can do?」

Straf looks at the sickly, thin horse in front of him. He sighs, and the villagers look at each other with troubled faces.

「I’m sorry. We’re not exactly a rich village… This is the only horse we have. We also have two oxen, but I don’t suppose you want them?…」

The tiny village elder lowers his head apologetically, standing in front of the skeletal-thin horse. Straf sighs.

「Forget it. I’ll get back on my own.」

Straf dismissively waves his hand at the village elder, and turns around towards the road. The elder hurries to catch up to him.

「I’d like to thank you again, in the name of the entire village. Those bandits just wouldn’t understand we don’t have anything to pay them with.」

The elder limps along on his walking stick, gesturing with his hand between his rapid steps.

「Yeah, I know. That’s what they do in settings like these. If bandits were less violent, they’d be called mafia. If they were more numerous, they’d be called the government.」

Straf shrugs his shoulders, and glances at the tiny elder. He stops when he sees a young man with oxen hitched to his cart chase after them from the village.

「…What?」

「Who’s that?」

Straf looks at the bowl-cut young man. His hair obscures his eyes, and he whips the oxen with the reins to go faster every few seconds. The elder turns around and sighs.

「Ah… That’s Jonas. He’s the village orphan. He’s a really earnest, hard-working boy, but…」

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The elder introduces the young man as he pulls up the oxen-drawn cart to Straf.

「But?」

Straf raises his brows, and looks up at the young boy sitting in the driver’s seat.

「Jonas, I know you want to help, but Straf here is in a rush. The oxen are too slow-」

The elder points his hand at Straf as he explains the situation to the young man.

「Actually…」

「Eh?」

Straf suddenly interrupts the old man. Straf looks at the bowl-cut man on the wagon while grimacing.

「…There’s something wrong with this guy, ain’t there?」

Straf asks as he turns to the old man low below him.

「No… Well…」

The old man shakes his head, then scratches the side of his head and shrugs his shoulders.

「Well?」

Straf spreads his hands, and glances at the young man again.

「There’s nothing wrong with Jonas. It’s just he’s mute-」

「Perfect.」

Thud.

Straf hops onto the wagon’s empty back in a completely unnatural leap, and lays down.

「Eh? You mean it doesn’t bother you he can’t talk?」

The elder asks, barely peeking into the cart on his tiptoes.

「Nope. In fact, this is perfect. I bet this guy and Carrothead would get along great.」

Straf chuckles as he lazily lounges in the cart with his ankle on his knee.

「…Carrothead?」

The elder tilts his head a little.

「Yeah. The other RPG protagonist. Party and childhood friends type. I can tell Jonas here is the type that runs around alone and looks for chests behind waterfalls.」

Straf grins, glancing at Jonas from behind him. Jonas glances at Straf, then looks at the elder with a confused expression on his face. The elder shrugs his shoulders, and they both look back at Straf.

「…So I can leave Jonas in your care?」

The elder asks anxiously.

「Yeah. At least until I get back to the capital. If a monster eats him on the way back, that’s his own fault for not keeping his eyes on the road.」

Straf shrugs, and looks at Jonas’s bangs obscuring the clear sight of his eyes.

「…Very well. Please keep him safe. And don’t disappoint our hero, Jonas. This is the least we can do to repay him for saving our village.」

The elder wags his finger at the young man, and he energetically nods in complete silence.

「Go then. Let the queen know the good news.」

The elder nods and steps away from the cart, waving Jonas along the road. Jonas nods, and whips the bulls with the reins. The cart starts rolling along slowly, and as it departs, the villagers join the elder at the edge of the village. Some of the kids wave at Jonas, and he silently waves back.

Half an hour later, Straf continues staring at the early evening sky and the clouds zipping past. He sits up with a grunt, then jumps to a seat beside the mute young man.

「So, you’re a mute orphan, huh?」

Straf asks, looking at the bowl-cut man with his bored eyes. He replies with a silent nod, seemingly looking at Straf through his bangs.

「Seeing those bandits rampage around the village and being completely powerless to stop it sure made you want to be stronger, huh?」

Straf asks, as a tiny smirk forms on his face. Jonas grips the reins tighter, and with a slight pause, he replies with a single strong nod and a serious expression. His eyes remain hidden behind his bangs.

「You’re going to become an adventurer as soon as you return the cart, huh?」

Straf asks, and the question seems to surprise Jonas, as his head quickly snaps to Straf. He nods in reply.

「Hmm… I see, I see… Well, buddy, you have a long grind ahead of you. I mean really long, because I killed half the countryside beasts. But uh, you know what they say, right?」

Straf chuckles a little, grinning at the mute man. He shakes his head in response.

「What? Really? Come on, it’s obvious. The real beasts are inside your fellow man. Get it now?」

Straf shakes his head in disbelief, still grinning. He shrugs his hands as he asks. The young mute looks at the road ahead in silence, and appears to think deeply about something. He then looks at Straf, then nods hesitantly.

「Yeah. So, basically, poke them the right way and you’ll poke the beast too. Easy.」

Straf shrugs, and lazily slumps in his seat, watching the generic rural countryside scroll by…

…

In the capital’s throne room, late in the evening…

「…Lian, are you certain?」

Cycelia asks, and the spearwoman nods her head.

「I don’t know much about magic, but I can verify I saw the same thing as Will.」

Lian nods her head at Will, who clutches onto his staff with a serious expression on his face. He adjusts his glasses, waiting for the queen’s reply. Cycelia looks down at the throne’s steps, and rubs her thumb on her lips.

「…If only he was-」

She begins mumbling quietly to herself, then notices Straf in the corner of her vision enter the throne room.

「Ah! Straf!」

「He’s here?-」

Cycelia exclaims with a big smile on her face, and Will spins about on his heel, adjusting his glasses at the same time.

「I’m back. Joy, we won.」

Straf announces, spreading his arm on a sling.

「I know! I received a message by a pigeon.」

She nods with a smile, and sighs with relief.

「I’m glad you’re back, Straf. I was really worried about sending you out with your arms like that.」

「Meh.」

Straf shrugs his shoulders, and Cycelia’s expression turns from happiness into concern once more.

「I’ve read through the report. The reporting officer wrote that you were severely outnumbered and facing a professional mercenary army. We had a lot of dead and injured…」

Cycelia says with a frown, clasping her hands together at her knees.

「Hey, I did what I could with what I had-」

With a slanted mouth, Straf shrugs and spreads his arms.

「No no no, please do not misunderstand, Straf. I think the outcome of this battle was nothing short of a miracle. 16 to 1 ratio of wounded to dead is incredible. The officer in question was singing high praises of your abilities, your tactics, your ability to keep a cool head, and your… Battle ambulances, was it?」

Cycelia shakes her hands and head as she explains what she meant to say. She looks aside, thinking intensely as she recalls the fragments of the report.

「Casevac. But yes, battle ambulances.」

Straf shrugs and tilts his head a little, then nods with a bored expression. Cycelia sighs again, and smiles gently at Straf.

「Thank you, Straf. You saved a lot of lives. Again. The rest of the report said that the forces are restoring control of the gold mines, and declaring me as the rightful ruler of the land with no resistance. By the way, I’ve read something about a… Trumpet disruption? What was that about?」

Cycelia tilts her head a little, blinking with curiosity in her eyes.

「That’s a story for another time. What are these two doing here? Did Carrothead get knocked out in battle? Rough.」

Straf dismissively waves his hand, then points it at Will and Lian watching him quietly.

「…That’s… Related to another problem.」

Cycelia taps her fingers together, looking aside with an almost embarrassed grimace on her face.

「Uh-huh. Y’know, Lia, I’ve been thinking my solo adventure has been a little too snappy recently. Too much is going on, and I can hardly keep track of it all. I’m not saying I’m ready for a slow life suddenly, but couldn’t we go on a regular adventure now that I’ve dealt with all those problems you had?」

Straf asks, spreading his arms again.

「Well, um… I’d love to, Straf, but…」

Cycelia fidgets uncomfortably in the throne, twiddling her thumbs.

「But?」

「…Remember how I said the gold you gave me would last me a moment?」

Cycelia looks at Straf with a tight-lipped grimace on her face.

「…Vaguely, yes.」

Straf pauses for a second, looking up and aside with his brows raised, then nods.

「Well, that moment has passed…」

Cycelia shrugs her hands, and her shoulders slump. She makes herself small in her throne, almost as if apologizing to Straf.

「…Well, just use the drakes then. What’s the problem?」

Straf shakes his head a little, spreading his arms.

「I was using the drakes, Straf. It’s just… People came to redeem them for gold.」

Cycelia explains, still tapping her fingers together anxiously.

「Okay. I see. And now you only have the drakes, right?」

Straf asks, and Cycelia only continues tapping her fingers together, looking down at the throne’s steps.

「…You only have the drakes, right?」

Straf repeats his question, presuming Cycelia didn’t hear him. She looks up at him with a tight-lipped grimace, then looks away, continuing to tap her fingers together awkwardly.

「…Right?」

Straf nods gently asking full of hope again, knowing the answer already…