Heavenly Craftsman Zashiki-warashi, Enter! Kids Don't Know What They're Saying, Don't Take the Imagawa Seriously

Under the leaden-gray dome, across the endless wilderness.

A tiny figure with a gigantic travel backpack two or three times larger than her entire body was cheerfully marching head held high toward the interesting unknown.

Every step sank deeply into the gray gravel beneath the weight, yet she lifted her feet with ease each time.

Zashiki-warashi was walking alone across Everworld.

Clink, clink...

Clang, clang...

The crisp and dull sounds of iron striking iron rang from the tiny figure's palms, accompanied by the constant flicker of tiny sparks.

That was right—even during the long journey, she never idled for a moment.

Whether walking, sitting, lying down, or standing, as long as she woke from her wonderful dreams, she would forge something between her palms.

Forge, forge, temper her techniques, exhaust the limits of her craft.

"These are all just the basic skills of a master artisan."

Zashiki-warashi muttered to herself as usual.

The long and lonely journey of seeking the Way had long since taught her how to entertain herself. Talking to herself was perfectly normal.

"My newly learned techniques still aren't practiced enough, and my precision in the finer details isn't high enough. Not to mention that I still lack sufficient experience..."

Zashiki-warashi, who only ever put pressure on herself, sighed softly. "A master artisan may represent the pinnacle of strength, but that doesn't mean they're perfect."

Clang!

The sound of a heavy hammer coming down suddenly stopped.

Zashiki raised her head in confusion.

Had she... heard the sound of a train traveling along the tracks?

But this was the [wasteland of the era], where even monsters were extremely rare and almost no faction was willing to set foot.

Could she have heard wrong?

Her thought had barely formed when two glaring headlights, flamboyant and bright like dragons, lit