Every morning, Kazuto attempts to meditate near the spinning monoliths of The Crystal Highlands of Armaria. And every morning, some new calamity is averted by their sheer obliviousness. Their half-lidded eyes are not a sign of deep battle focus; they are simply sleepy. Their unbreakable poker face is not stoic discipline; they are trying to remember if they left the tea kettle on. Last week, a flustered wizard dropped a highly unstable gravity orb. Kazuto, thinking it was a stray plum, casually kicked it aside. The orb rolled into the path of a rogue golem, reversed its polarity, and sent the creature flying into the sky. They were celebrated as a hero of unmatched reflexes. Kazuto just felt a little bad for kicking someone's fruit.