The south courtyard was anything but quiet.

  CLANG.

  CLANG.

  CLANG.

  The metallic sound echoed between the stone walls with an almost hypnotic consistency. Max walked along the cobbled path, following the noise.

  The area was spacious, with stables on one side, weapon racks leaning against the wall, and—at the center—an enormous anvil.

  Almost as big as the person using it.

  In the distance, a blonde dwarf hammered the metal with vigor. She wore a soot-stained leather apron, her hair tied back in whatever way had worked at the moment, and an expression of absolute focus.

  By her height and features, she looked more like a small child pying at being a bcksmith… except that every hammer strike made the ground tremble.

  Max blinked.

  ‘…That anvil is almost as big as she is.’

  He cleared his throat.

  “Uh… Frida?”

  CLANG.

  No reaction.

  “Frida?” he tried again, a bit louder.

  CLANG.

  Nothing.

  The dwarf raised the hammer once more, completely absorbed.

  Max hesitated for a second… then carefully stepped closer and reached out to tap her shoulder.

  “Excuse me—”

  The reaction was immediate.

  The dwarf spun around, reflexively lifting the hammer, stopping just centimeters from smashing it into Max’s head.

  “WHAT?!”

  Max froze.

  “WAIT—!”

  She stopped short, eyes wide… then lowered the hammer abruptly.

  “AH! Sorry!” she blurted out. “Didn’t hear you at all—when I’m forging, the world just disappears, you know how it is, hot metal, the rhythm, the breathing, the—”

  She took a breath.

  “Oh!”

  She looked him over carefully.

  “You must be Max.”

  Max barely managed to nod.

  “The new pet of Princess Enor, right? Nice to finally meet you! I’m Frida,” she said, enthusiastically thrusting out her hand. “I’m the servant in charge of the forge and the stables and, well, basically any heavy work nobody else wants to do—which is a lot, honestly.”

  She let go of his hand before he could reply.

  “I was actually forging something for you, by the way. A little gift from me, proper introduction and all, but it’s not ready yet. It’s gonna be amazing, you’ll see. I think it’ll suit you perfectly with how fragile you look—no offense, eh.”

  Max opened his mouth.

  Closed it.

  Blinked.

  “I… uh…”

  Frida was already talking again.

  “Though now that I think about it, maybe I should reinforce it a bit more, because if you ever leave the pace and—”

  “Frida,” Max tried.

  “—run into something big and—”

  “Frida.”

  She stopped abruptly.

  “Yes?”

  Max rubbed his temple.

  “I was told you could… give me a tour of the castle. There are a lot of pces I still don’t know.”

  Frida’s eyes lit up.

  “Of course!”

  She set the hammer against the anvil and approached with a huge grin.

  “Let’s see—you’ve got the north courtyard, the east courtyard, the secondary towers, the inner wall, the old storage rooms, the small library, the big one, the forbidden one,” she winked, “the stables, the training yard, the kitchens, the noble corridors, the corridors that shouldn’t exist—”

  Max felt his brain starting to shut down.

  “Or we could start with the catacombs.”

  “The what?”

  “Nothing, nothing!” she ughed. “Where do you want to start?”

  Max stared at her, completely overwhelmed.

  ‘…Okay.’

  Abby definitely hadn’t exaggerated.

  She really never shut up.

  Frida didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Library!” she decided suddenly. “Always start with the library—otherwise you’ll get lost when someone sends you to fetch some weird book with an unpronounceable name.”

  Max barely had time to nod before she was already walking.

  ***

  The castle library was enormous.

  Tall shelves reaching the ceiling, sliding dders, long dark-wood tables, and an almost reverent silence… broken only by Frida’s voice, still expining things in whispers that weren’t very quiet.

  “Here you’ve got history, magic, genealogies, old grimoires, dangerous grimoires, grimoires that explode—”

  “Expl—?”

  “But not those, those are further back.”

  Max decided not to ask.

  Between the shelves appeared a slender figure with white hair and long ears. An elf with a calm gaze, gsses, and several books floating around her.

  “Arwen,” Frida greeted without lowering her voice. “This is Max.”

  The elf looked up.

  “Oh…” she smiled gently. “The princess’s pet.”

  Max was already resigned to the title.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said. “Uh… I promise not to touch anything.”

  Arwen nodded, satisfied.

  “That already puts you above average.”

  Frida ughed loudly and, before Max could say anything else, was already dragging him out of the pce.

  ***

  The contrast was brutal.

  Heat, steam, intense aromas, and noise.

  The royal kitchen looked like a culinary battlefield. Giant pots, knives flying from hand to hand, and at the center—a massive woman.

  Bertha.

  The giant wore a chef’s hat ridiculously small for her size and stirred a pot that could’ve doubled as a bathtub.

  “BERTHA!” Frida shouted.

  The giant turned her head.

  “WHAT?” her voice boomed.

  “Meet Max.”

  Bertha leaned down a bit to get a better look.

  “So you’re the princess’s little critter?”

  “Critter?”

  “Good,” she said, pointing at him with the spoon. “Listen carefully, critter. The kitchen is sacred ground. Don’t come often. Don’t come with dirty feet. And never put your hands where I didn’t tell you to.”

  Max nodded as if she were holding him at knifepoint.

  On either side, two identical goblins stared at him curiously.

  “I’m Bim.”

  “And I’m Bam.”

  “Don’t mix us up,” they said in unison.

  Max wasn’t sure he could tell them apart.

  Frida dragged him away again before he could die of fright.

  ***

  The castle corridors seemed endless.

  In one of them, a door opened and Taniel stepped out calmly, impeccably dressed. When he saw Max, he smiled politely.

  “Max,” he greeted. “I hope you’re doing well.”

  “Uh… yeah. Thanks.”

  Taniel continued on his way.

  A few meters ahead, Gawain appeared around a corner, talking to himself, not noticing Max at all.

  “Hey!” Max called after him, with a clearly annoyed grimace.

  Gawain walked right past.

  “Probably for the best,” Max muttered.

  Frida pointed toward the far end of a different corridor.

  “That hallway leads to the king’s chambers.”

  Max saw guards lined up in front of a massive door.

  “Don’t even think about going near there,” Frida started. “First they stop you, then they interrogate you, then they look at you funny, then—”

  “Got it,” Max said quickly.

  They kept walking.

  ***

  As they moved on, Max opened the system menu without stopping.

  The quest was still active.

  [ Get to know the castle and its inhabitants ] [ Progress: 98% ]

  “Uh…” he murmured. “I’m almost done.”

  That was when he saw them.

  Two guards were walking down the corridor, a bit stiff, looking tired. Between them walked an elf with dark hair, a light-colored robe, and a calm smile.

  Dorian.

  Max froze, eyes wide.

  ‘…It’s him.’

  The royal healer.

  Part of the original party.

  The NPC he already knew outside this world… now walking right in front of him, in flesh and blood.

  Max knew that the remaining percentage on the side quest was interacting with him.