Randidly frowned. Due to the smoldering flames in the center of the room, the enclosed space was really hot. But the response he received was enough to distract him from all of the specialty tool laying about in the workshop. “What do you mean? Why don’t you know if you will be able to help? Don’t you think...”

Randidly stopped himself before he could complete that sentence. It was somewhat rude to admit that he had thought Sam would be swept up by what he was offering and accept immediately. But truthfully, Randidly was somewhat floored that the resources Randidly had described didn’t seem to tempt him.

Sam idly waved a hammer that was the size of a human head to dismiss Randidly’s words. Due to its strange, shifting hue, Randidly could tell that the item wasn’t a simple tool. The fact that Sam could so casually wave it was a testament to his strength. “My schedule is extremely busy. Even if I am no longer in charge of Donnyton’s refinery, I have quite a few projects lined up right now. I’ve accepted down payments; it isn’t an easy thing to push back such work for a favor, even if it’s for you.”

When Randidly didn’t respond to him, Sam snorted and then continued to hammer the piece of metal in front of him. Every time the heavy tool smashed the metal, a clear ringing echoed out in the small room. A shifting and amorphous image thickened the air around the tempering, demonstrating why Sam was the pinnacle of his field. Even though he wasn’t imbuing it with any specificity that Randidly could see, it was slowly growing more powerful. The image shaped the metal and the metal shaped the image. Randidly had no doubt it would slowly develop into something powerful.

This ability is why I want him to help with Kharon Academy, but this reaction… Randidly stared at Sam’s grizzled silhouette as he continued to work. Wearing a leather apron and working away with the metal, the figure was a familiar one to Randidly. His friendship with Sam was one of his oldest and strongest. They were bonded through Aether; Sam was his Dawn Smith. Yet now Sam seemed completely content with where he was.

Smiling slyly down at his current work, Sam placed the strange hammer to the side and picked up a pair of tongs. Then he lifted the metal in question and regarded it critically from several angles. He even brought it to his face and sniffed it. Once he set it back down, the hammering began with renewed vigor.

As Randidly watched, a sense of strangeness grew in his chest. Watching Sam’s movements, nothing was off, but… this sort of behavior wasn’t like Sam. Normally, if he really wasn’t willing to listen to my offer, he would have just kicked me out. Which means that he probably wants something…

Eventually, Randidly sighed. The better he got at observing people, the more work seemed to appear in front of him. Things just get more complicated, don’t they…? “...I’m sorry that the first time I came to see you it was work-”

Sam glared at him this time with genuine irritation. He slowly lowered his strange hammer to his side. “Kid, do you really think I would care about that? I understand how busy you must be running a city. Plus, heh, the projects you bring me are always the most interesting ones… Nah, it’s fine you are a bit forgetful.”

Hearing that, Randidly’s eyes narrowed. “Then what is it you want? How can I get you to come agree to work on the construction of Kharon Academy?”

Sam’s assistance wasn’t absolutely necessary, but it would be a huge help to the project. Not for the general construction, any average worker could handle the details of the typical buildings. Due to Gertrude’s suggestion, Randidly was even considering allowing the kids themselves to do the lion’s share of it. But for some of the critical pieces in the labyrinth… for the components that would blend images and Engraving to hold the whole Kharon Academy together… Randidly would rest easier leaving it in Sam’s hands.

Finally seeing that he had Randidly’s attention, Sam coughed lightly. “I’m not much for negotiation… I’d prefer if everyone was direct about things. So I’m just gonna say my demand. No room for discussion. I want to explore one of the Corrupted Worlds. Soon. And I want to be the first human to do so. Since the Order Ducis is in charge of them… I assume you have that power.”

Randidly frowned. Corrupted Worlds referred to the five extra Danger Zones that had been pasted onto Earth due to the test from the Xyrt Brigade. After the Earth had completed its task in time, these worlds had brought their Aether and significant resources to Earth. At least in theory, that is. Right now they were just a bunch of portals to dangerous worlds.

The populations of those worlds had just been primed by the System to attack and massacre the Earth a few weeks ago as part of the test. Although that prompting disappeared, the Nexus never bothered to send out a follow up notification that the people of these planets should cooperate with the Earthlings. So the Order Ducis had been trying to establish communications with the various factions within the worlds, with mixed results.

“You want the materials?” Randidly guessed after thinking about it.

“Of course.” Sam’s eyes were shining now. “An entire world’s worth of resources…? Not that I want to monopolize them, but I’ve already noticed that the Earth’s resources are curving toward mythic materials that were the stuff of legends prior to the System. If our images shape the materials too… I definitely need to test out the materials that these other worlds imagined.”

Randidly thought about it for a bit before slowly nodding. “From what I’ve heard, discussions with one of the worlds has gone pretty well. I think that trade will start up in earnest soon. And at that time-” Randidly paused as a thought occurred to him. But then he shook his head and continued. “-at that time, I believe you can be the first to see and experience the materials within the world.”

“Thank you,” Sam revealed a rare smile. Then his expression shifted and he gave Randidly a long look. “Now… will you be staying for dinner?”

Randidly felt quite a load of expectations within that expression and couldn’t help but sigh. “...I suppose. Do you think…?”

For a second, Sam’s expression was warped by commiseration. He walked over to Randidly and patted his shoulder. “Yes. I might not mind your habits, but Regina will undoubtedly have some… opinions on your lack of social etiquette. You are, after all, Sunan’s godfather. But still. Facing it now is better than letting more sourness accumulate for a few more years…”

So despite his frantic schedule in preparation for tomorrow, Randidly stayed for dinner with Sam and Regina. As expected, the first portion of the dinner saw Regina calmly lashing out with sharp comments about how long it had been since Randidly had visited or inquired about their son.

Randidly took a glance at the rather silent baby sleeping within the cradle. Ultimately, he decided that there was no meaning to pointing out that little Sunan wasn’t old enough to even notice. Instead, he simply smiled awkwardly. Luckily, as the three of them continued to converse through the meal, Regina’s attitude softened. Although it wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time, Randidly enjoyed the small break chatting with Sam and Regina.

When he left their residence, he had a message from Gertrude Collins. We’ve obtained all the guardian signatures we need. All told, we have thirty two volunteers to come into the Dungeon with us. I’ve spoken with them, and they should be mature enough that the extra few months won’t matter much.

Randidly produced his Philosopher’s Key with a flick of the wrist as he was replying. That seems fast. Did you check to make sure all the signatures were genuine?

Of course; I was a teacher, Mr. Ghosthound. I know my job, Gertrude quickly replied. It’s somewhat awkward to say… but a lot of the children live in large groups under a single homeowner. There are very few children with genuine familial ties. So to sign a form that the child will be gone for two days… it’s quite a casual thing.

Randidly’s heart tightened when he thought about the lives of these children, but then his emerald eyes flashed. This was why Kharon Academy was so important. It could be the lifeline that these people needed.

But Mr. Ghosthound… Gertrude said in another message. Isn’t thirty two too little?

Randidly’s eyelid twitched. ...This much will be fine. Thank you, Miss Collins.

It had been Gertrude’s idea for Randidly to bring children into the Dungeon with him and train them to help make Kharon Academy while also training the police force. Randidly had immediately expressed a strong desire not to, on account of the number of children that he would suddenly need to manage, but Gertrude had responded rather blithely.

“I mean, not everyone will volunteer if you ask. They are kids.”

Privately, Randidly feared that Gertrude was dead wrong.

Randidly didn’t want to overestimate himself, but he was somewhat aware that he was a powerful figure in the minds of these children. If word spread that he was offering a bit of training, he believed that quite a few children would agree. Perhaps even most of them. And then suddenly he would be responsible for the ten thousand children that were already causing headaches all across Kharon.

So instead of putting Randidly’s name on it, they had spread word to the children that the Kharon government itself was sponsoring a workshop for children looking to focus on careers in “architecture, construction, gardening, blacksmithing, metal working, and materials processing.” Despite Gertrude’s complains, Randidly insisted on making the language of the request as dry as possible.

He didn’t want people to come that thought the project sounded cool. He only wanted children who truly were interested in the field. Thirty-two volunteers was abysmally low from a population of ten thousand, but Randidly had a good feeling about those thirty two. They could be left in the hands of Ed Dugg for most of the time in the Dungeon. Hopefully, they would be able to gain quite a bit of experience.

Humming to himself, Randidly opened a portal and walked through to visit Neveah.