The Eudor forest was left far behind. Standing majestically before them rose the colossal gates of the Eudor capital, flanked by stone walls said to be entirely impenetrable. Yet to Raga’s eyes, those walls weren't symbols of royal grandeur—they were an over-budget construction project plagued by wildly inefficient design.

"Look at the load-bearing pillars on that gate," Raga whispered, pointing with his chin. "If I gave that stress point one solid kick, the whole entryway would start swaying."

Grom grunted, cleaning his axe blade with his thick beard. "Don't start with your building analysis again, Foreman. We're here to infiltrate, not demolish the city."

"I'm just saying," Raga replied casually.

They had reached the outskirts of the capital. Naria wore a tattered cloak to conceal her identity, while Raga remained faithful to his laborer’s tank top, though he had now wrapped a sarong around his waist to cover his cement-stained cargo pants.

[System: Warning! Entering High-Security Area. It is strongly advised not to act like a lost tourist. Oh, and congratulations, Raga. Your Mana level just upgraded to 'Apprentice Laborer'.]

"Mana? You mean I can use magic now?" Raga asked enthusiastically.

[System: Don't get ahead of yourself. You can only use Mana to reinforce your muscle fibers, exactly like when you haul fifty-kilogram bags of cement on a job site. Don't expect to shoot fireballs.]

Raga tried focusing his energy into his arms. Suddenly, he felt a warm sensation flowing through his muscles, much like downing a high-dose energy supplement. He reached down and grabbed a massive boulder by the roadside—a rock the size of a dining table—and hoisted it with a single hand as though it were a sofa cushion.

"Wow," Naria murmured, her eyes widening. "Raga, your muscles... the energy feels intensely dense."

Grom burst into booming laughter. "Ha! Finally! A laborer with the strength of a mining dwarf! Now you won't whine about being tired when we have to outrun the guards, right?"

"Hold on, don't get excited yet," Raga dropped the boulder with a loud, heavy thud. "This Mana feels like I'm carrying heavy loads twenty-four-seven. If I lose focus, it feels like my muscles are about to rupture."

[System: That is what we call 'Advanced Laborer Workload'. Welcome to a world where your muscles are your primary magical resource.]

"How are we going to get inside?" Naria interrupted. "The guards at the main gate are on high alert. They must have plastered my face all over the city by now."

Raga stared at the massive drainage canal flowing directly beneath the city walls. He broke into a grin—the classic grin of a contractor discovering a glaring loophole in an architectural estimate.

"The sewers. System, do you happen to have an underground blueprint of this city?"

[System: You really are a true laborer. Always looking for an entry point through the waste management lines. Yes, I do. And don't worry, the smell isn't as bad as you're imagining. The system will filter out 90% of the odor.]

The three of them slipped inside through a moss-covered drainage grate. Once inside the subterranean city tunnels, Raga immediately began inspecting the wall structure.

"Grom, look at those bricks. Shoddy workmanship. They used way too much sand in the mortar. If we give this section a solid shove, this wall is bound to collapse."

"Foreman," Grom rolled his eyes. "Can you stop grading the enemy's structural quality for five minutes? We're infiltrating!"

"I'm just being a professional," Raga defended himself.

Naria walked in front, leading them through the dark, vapor-choked tunnels. "The capital of Eudor... I never imagined I'd return here under these circumstances. This corridor used to be a secret path reserved for palace servants."

Suddenly, footsteps echoed above them—the crisp, rhythmic clatter of iron-shod boots. A guard patrol.

"Quiet!" Raga pulled Naria and Grom into a dark wall recess.

A patrol squad marched right overhead. Raga could feel the earth vibrating right above his skull. He channeled Mana into his feet, clamping tight against the dirt wall to prevent any falling dust from giving away their position. The Mana proved immensely helpful; his boots anchored to the earthen wall as securely as a ship's iron anchor.

"Incredible," Naria whispered. "Raga, with that kind of strength, you could dismantle their defenses from the inside out."

"I prefer to call it 'structural adjustment'," Raga murmured back.

Once the patrol passed, they crawled out of the sewer and emerged into a narrow alleyway in the heart of the capital. The scene before them stood in stark contrast to the grim forest they had just trudged through. Bustling markets, merchants hawking magical trinkets, and citizens passing by in lavish attire.

Yet right in the middle of all that commotion hung bold posters of Naria’s face stamped with the glaring word "TRAITOR" at every single street corner.

Naria lowered her head, fighting back tears.

Raga patted Naria's shoulder with a hand that now possessed reinforced strength thanks to his Mana. "Hang in there, Princess. We didn't come here to become poster celebrities. We came here to renovate this 'building'."

Grom nodded. "And I can't wait to start demolishing a few sections of it."

[System: Warning! Infiltration Mission initiated. You have 24 hours before Duke Vallen realizes you're here. Kindly refrain from starting debates about cement quality in the middle of a crowd.]

"Who's even trying to debate cement in a public market?!" Raga shouted internally.

"What's our next move, Foreman?" Grom asked, readjusting his battle-axe concealed beneath his cloak.

Raga gazed at the distant castle looming arrogantly atop the hill. "Let's find a place to crash first. And Naria, please draw me a list of people we can still trust inside the castle. Tonight, we're drawing up a 'total renovation' plan."

Naria smiled, though her eyes remained heavy with sorrow. "I know just the person. An elderly head butler who has remained fiercely loyal to my father."

"Good," Raga clenched his fist. A faint blue aura of Mana wrapped visibly around his knuckles. "Time to go to work."