Chapter 1: If You Are Trapped in a Windless Land

"Once upon a time, there was a glorious kingdom in the heavens."

In the central square of Belobog, a bard stood before the Eternal Winter Monument, strumming his harp and singing leisurely.

"The king sent his first prince to the Land of Darkness to seek the Pearl of Creation."

He had an androgynous appearance, a gentle voice, and wore emerald-green attire that made people think, "This is exactly what a bard should look like."

"And so, the first prince embarked on his journey to find the pearl."

Many people stood around, completely engrossed in the story he was singing.

Among them were staff from the Golden Opera House, and even the most sought-after actress, the famous Tamila, was present, listening intently.

"But she was deceived, forgetting her noble status, and believed herself to be the king of the Land of Darkness."

The sudden shift from lighthearted to somber music made the listeners frown, but as with all heroic tales, there was always a turning point.

The young bard strummed his harp again, narrating as if he had witnessed it all firsthand.

"But do not worry, the second prince has already set out on his journey."

His voice carried a certain magic, making people feel as though they could see a slightly inexperienced prince wearing a crown.

"This is the chronicle of your long journey, this is your song of the pearl."

...

The singing came to an end.

As the music faded, thunderous applause erupted.

Although the story of the second prince was not yet fully told, leaving some curious, no one booed him.

The bard at the center of the crowd, no longer as serious and focused as before, now wore a playful and sly smile.

He took off his hat, like a street performer finishing a show, and boldly began to "ask for tips."

But don’t underestimate this craft.

There are plenty of people who watch without paying and even come back to chat nonsense.

How to gracefully and politely collect tips is an art.

Of course, more importantly—

If you don’t get paid, you’ll go hungry.

He, or rather, Venti, knew this all too well.

When he first arrived here, he didn’t have the popularity he has now, nor did he know where to perform. His memories were also a tangled mess, like a ball of yarn clawed apart by a cat.

But fortunately, in every world of his memories, there was a saying: "Since you’re here, make yourself at home."

This principle seemed ingrained deep within his personality, not only helping him get through the initial discomfort but also quickly uncovering his natural talents.

With the "Feylin" harp he brought with him, he managed to live a life of singing small tunes and occasionally enjoying a little drink.

Of course, his ambitions didn’t stop there.

As he sorted through his memories, Venti had a rough understanding of his current situation.

He was now on a planet called Jarilo-VI, more accurately… in Belobog, the last fortress of humanity.

He placed the tips he received into his hat and then flipped it back onto his head, seemingly unconcerned about the coins falling out.

After declining an enthusiastic invitation from a lady at the opera house, Venti walked away with a cheerful stride, weaving through the crowd like a breeze.

Next, he had a scheduled performance to attend, and he couldn’t be late!

He zigzagged through the streets, seemingly on a whim, occasionally stopping by toy shops that only children would be interested in, buying some snacks, and then reluctantly leaving.

Only after shaking off the Silvermane Guards who seemed to be following him did Venti quietly arrive at an inconspicuous alley near the Goethe Hotel.

In front of a wall next to a pile of trash bins, he counted three bricks down and two to the left.

He knocked lightly three times.

The brick immediately sank inward, revealing a hole just big enough for someone to peek through.

"Ahem—good friend, good friend, tell me. Where is the magical Bosacius?"

He asked warmly and enthusiastically, like a young wizard visiting Diagon Alley for the first time.

What seemed like an absurd action to ordinary people was answered in the next moment.

"My good buddy, the magical Bosacius is here!"

A man popped his head out from under a trash can, his sneaky eyes and annoying smirk making it clear he was a troublemaker.

"Huh? Why are you over there? Ugh! You smell awful!"

The moment their eyes met, Venti was hit by a wave of sour stench and took a few steps back, unable to bear it.

Hearing this, the blue-haired man sniffed his collar and smiled awkwardly.

"Ah, well, things happened suddenly. I was selling some goods when I ran into the Silvermane Guards. They chased me for a long time, so I had to use this trick to throw them off. Sorry about that."

After waiting for his nose to adjust slightly to the smell, Venti sighed and said,

"So you’re really dedicated to this smuggling business, huh?"

"Hehe, making money isn’t something to be ashamed of."

Sampo crawled out of the trash bin, pulled out a comb from who-knows-where, and tidied up the bangs covering his forehead. He then sprayed some cheap men’s cologne and smiled.

"After all, old Sampo here isn’t like you, blessed with a heavenly voice. I know a bit of singing and storytelling, but it’ll take a long time to get as popular as a band."

As he spoke, he winked at Venti.

"By the way, don’t say I never give you money-making tips. I think you should form a new band with Big Sis Seele. Call it the ‘Final Band’!

It’s trendy and fun, and it’s bound to be a hit. And as the one who came up with the idea, you just need to give me a small cut of the ticket sales. How about it? Great idea, right?"

"Haha. Should I say you’re persistent or just shameless?"

Venti stared at him, amused.

"If you were in a place where you could really show off your skills, you might even be able to appraise the value of a planet, huh?"

"Ah, you’re too kind, buddy. Old Sampo’s biggest dream is just to make a good deal. Even if the deal falls through, we can still be friends."

Sampo waved his hand, understanding the subtle rejection in Venti’s words, and didn’t push further.

Instead, he moved the trash bin he had been hiding behind, revealing a rusted metal plate covering a block-shaped area. He quickly dismantled it.

Venti asked curiously,

"Hey, aren’t we taking the same route as last time?"

"The last route might have the risk of being attacked by Fragmentum monsters. I need to reassess it these days."

Sampo looked a bit troubled but didn’t elaborate.

After a few clanks, he removed the metal plate and jumped inside. The entrance was a bit narrow for his large frame, but it was just right for Venti.

Descending from the upper level, the deep smell of rust and engine oil replaced the clear blue sky and fresh air.

They were now walking along some massive pipelines, occasionally seeing spilled ore on the ground and hearing distant, heavy rumbles.

It was a somewhat oppressive and silent path.

However, Sampo and Venti were anything but quiet, and their conversation soon made the atmosphere feel like a casual outing.

"So, I’m not just nagging, Venti. You’ve got good looks and great skills.

You’re probably just one step away from becoming a citizen of Belobog—all you need is to get a number from the administration office. Why do you keep coming down to the lower districts?"

Sampo shook his head, acting like an older brother.

In response, Venti chuckled and said playfully,

"Well, of course, it’s because there are still people down there waiting for me to sing about the changing seasons and celebrate the beauty of all things!"