Prologue — Kent

We were spending our time in Laureldite frequenting Ifrit’s Oasis. This dungeon awarded not only lots of materials for Tarte’s Formulation but also a bunch of items that fetched good prices at the Adventurer’s Guild.Maybe I should give mom a present once in a while.

With each encounter, we gained more levels and grew stronger—so much so that I was starting to think we might be the strongest party in the entire world. Of course, that didn’t stop me from pursuing further improvement.

Late one night, I was woken up by rhythmic meowing—Tarte.What is she up to this late at night? I quietly sneaked out of my room and followed Tarte’s grunt-yowls to a space behind our inn where Tarte was swinging an Iron Mace, apparently having stayed up to do some training.

“I can’t swing it too well...but I need to be stronger and use weapons too...!” Tarte muttered to herself. After catching her breath, she went right back to swinging the mace. She was trying to build enough strength to use a weapon for longer in battle.

Should I go talk to her? Squatting down behind the corner of the building, I considered what to do. Tarte’s only means of attack—albeit a powerful one—was her Molotov-lobbing Potion Throw. Combined with the potions she always made us with Formulation, she was more than pul