"I can't believe they call this a palace," Raga muttered with utter disdain. He stood at the service gate of the Eudor citadel, wearing a dingy leather apron and a cloth cap that shadowed half his face. Beside him, Grom looked profoundly uncomfortable in a manual laborer's uniform—which was, in reality, clothing he had swiped from the city's material supply depot.

"Shut it, Foreman," Grom whispered, trying to conceal his battle-axe deep inside a tool pouch. "Don't let anyone hear your blabbering. We're here to rescue a kingdom, not conduct an emergency municipal construction inspection."

"But look at that!" Raga pointed his crowbar at the gate pillars. "Hairline fractures! And the mortar they used? That's not cement; it's a slurry of mud and false hope! If this castle so much as catches a minor tremor, the roof's going to cave right in on your arrogant new king's head."

[System: Warning! Focus, Raga. We are infiltrating an enemy stronghold, not filming a home renovation show. If you keep griping, our cover is going to get blown.]

Naria, disguised as a laborer's assistant with a hood pulled low over her face, tugged on Raga's sleeve. "Raga, calm down. We just need to slip into the north wing renovation zone. The head butler is already waiting for us there."

They walked through the service gate. Raga couldn't stop shaking his head. Every time he passed a pillar or a wall, he couldn't resist rapping his knuckles against it, reinforced as they were by his Mana.

Tap, tap, tap.

"Hollow! Zero structural integrity!" Raga scoffed. "Good grief, this building’s design is a national security hazard. No wonder this kingdom fell so fast—the foundation can't even carry its own weight!"

A chubby, thin-mustached castle foreman marched up to them. "Hey, you lot! Stop daydreaming! Get those granite blocks up to the second floor! Duke Vallen wants the main hall finished before tomorrow's festival!"

Raga stared at the massive stack of granite blocks with glowing eyes. To anyone else, it was a punishing weight. To Raga, it was a heavy-lifting gym session. He channeled Mana into his shoulders. His muscles tightened, veins bulging along his forearms, and with a single casual motion, he hoisted a granite block meant to be carried by four grown adults simultaneously.

The castle foreman’s jaw dropped. "Whoa... pretty impressive strength for a new hire, kid."

Raga offered a wry smile. "Manual lifting techniques, sir. If you'd like, I can teach you how to do it without blowing out a disk in your spine."

"Just—just get to work!"

The three of them climbed to the second floor via a deeply unstable wooden scaffolding. Raga nearly cursed aloud when he noticed the structure was lashed together with frayed hemp rope.

"This is practically attempted murder," Raga whispered to Grom. "Look at those knots. A stiff breeze would turn this scaffolding into a human catapult."

"Foreman," Naria whispered urgently, "please, hold off on the structural critiques for now. We have to reach the servant quarters."

On the second floor, they finally rendezvoused with Old Elian, the palace head butler whose wrinkled face still radiated fierce loyalty. Elian looked at Naria in stunned disbelief before dropping into a deep bow.

"Princess... you've returned," Elian whispered brokenly.

"Elian, we need access to the throne room," Naria stated firmly.

Elian sighed heavily. "It's difficult, Princess. Duke Vallen has tightened security everywhere. But... there may be one way. Tomorrow during the festival, there will be a delivery of materials for the hall ceiling repairs. Raga, you can sneak in as part of the maintenance crew."

Raga immediately latched onto the idea. "The main hall ceiling? Wait, that high-vaulted ceiling? Are they insane? A ceiling that high requires custom-engineered scaffolding!"

"Raga!" Grom and Naria hissed in unison.

Raga threw his hands up. "Fine, fine! The point is, tomorrow we go in there, I'll pretend to fix the ceiling, and the rest is up to you guys."

[System: Mission Notification: 'Renovation Coup'. Objective: Ensure Raga does not demolish the main hall under the guise of 'fixing' its structural integrity. Mission Progress: 20%.]

That night, they holed up in the damp castle material warehouse. While waiting for dawn, Raga spent his time repairing the damaged scaffolding they had found on-site. He worked with hyper-precision, using his Mana to reinforce the fragile wooden joints.

"You genuinely can't sit still when you see something broken, can you?" Grom asked, gnawing on a piece of hardtack bread.

Raga gazed at his handiwork with pride. "I'm a builder, Grom. My happiness lies in seeing a sound structure. If the kingdom falls, at least the building needs to stand straight. That's a matter of principle."

Naria sat beside Raga, watching his nimble fingers work magic over the wood joints. "You know, Raga? Despite how much you complain, your hands bring a sense of comfort. Amidst all this chaos, you're the calmest person I've ever met."

Raga offered a faint smile. He looked up at the gloomy warehouse rafters. "Probably because back in my world, my biggest problem was cement curing too fast. The problems here... well, maybe they're a bit bigger. But the principle's the same: if something's broken, you fix it."

[System: Deep laborer philosophy detected. Humanity Score: 100%.]

Raga merely scoffed at the system. Tomorrow, they would step foot into the beating heart of power. Tomorrow, they would face Duke Vallen. And Raga had already drawn up a blueprint to "renovate" that throne—perhaps with a little structural engineering assistance that would make Duke Vallen deeply regret his decision to become a terrible ruler.

"Get ready, everyone," Raga whispered into the dark expanse of the warehouse. "Tomorrow, we execute the biggest renovation project in Eudor's history."