Chapter 24 - Dance With Mana

More than two weeks had passed since Rohan was working for the blacksmith Horim. He had wondered at first if he would have done better to run away while he had the chance, after all, this man was a strange one, but anyway, he was only going to stay here a couple of years at most.

Since he had started working in the weapons shop, a new routine had set in. In the morning, after waking up as the sun was just starting to rise, he followed directly with a meditation session that lasted just under two hours, during which he used all his mana. After this session, he left his room to find himself in the corridor.

Another door was in front of him, slightly ajar: this was Horim's room.

"Hmm, he still had to spend the night in his forge…"

Rohan turned to his left to find himself in front of the kitchen and walked inside to eat breakfast, consisting of cheese and bread. After this little snack, he came out of the room with a plate in his hands and headed in front to go down the stairs.

The sun was already visible in the sky and the morning had completely arrived: his work began. He opened the door in front of him and found himself behind the counter in the shop, before turning to the right to go down the second stairs toward the forge.

Even though it was dark and no light could illuminate the path, Rohan was now accustomed to this path, so he had no difficulties descending while being blind. This time, the thunderous noise of the hammering of metal couldn't be heard like the first time, and only the tapping of his foot against the rocky stairs was echoing around.

He opened the door that appeared before him, and while squinting his eyes to the bursting of light, he walked inside the room. The heat was the same as always, even though there wasn't a flame in the hearth, and it made in this place an omnipresent heavy atmosphere.

"Master Horim, breakfast."

If Jonas was seeing him right now, he would probably need to pick up his jaw which will be on the ground from the shock to look at his young master doing these kinds of tasks.

Without waiting for the response from the bear who was groaning on the ground, he put the plate on the table with the other tools before leaving. Horim had the untoward habit to pass the night in his forge as if he only wanted to live here.

But that wasn't the problem of Rohan, as he was leaving this place to begin his job, and as he was going up, a hoarse voice came from behind.

"Don't forget to come to help me at the end of the day, I don't pay you for anything."

The job the blacksmith had given him was very simple, he just had to wait in the shop for clients to come in, and sell them whatever weapons or armor were available. With the price non-negotiable and already fixed, Rohan had virtually little to do.

There was one problem, however, that Rohan hadn't thought of. There was absolutely no one coming!

In the space of two weeks, only three customers had entered, one of whom came out angry, complaining about the quality of the weapons on display here. So Rohan's days were appallingly long. His real job will begin only before the night.

Therefore, for the past few days, he had decided to use this free time and the space he had in the center of the room to refine his sword movements.

He walked over to the rack composed entirely of double-edged swords and chose one at random.

He stood in the middle of the room, and, remembering the teachings of Captain Makin who had trained him for over four years, he began to move.

Chop, slash, thrust, parry, intercept, jab, disarm. He performed these movements one after the other as he danced around the room as if a savage battle was at work against unseen enemies. There was a supernatural beauty to observe this dance of death, as if the world followed and accompanied each movement, in a mystical rhythm.

Makin, having trained his young master for many years, had noticed this change when this one had become a rank 1 Beginner Warrior. Being a simple feeling without really being able to understand where this divine feeling came from, he had concluded that his young master was simply a genius as never seen before. A sensation that had become stronger when he was defeated in a duel.

Horim, however, who was watching the incredible scene that unfold before his own eyes from the entrance to his forge, felt that his worldview would shatter if he continued to observe this madness. He couldn't see it of course, but he had no trouble feeling it, and it was this sensation that made his head spin.

It was not that the world accompanied this dance. It wasn't that the movements were done perfectly, after all, Horim himself could see some flaws from his years of experience.

But that feeling came from mana. The mana surrounding Rohan seemed to follow his movements. All the mana in the room seemed to be drawn to this human who did nothing but performs imperfect moves he had learned like many soldiers.

The mana flows seemed to swirl around Rohan's limbs, hugging his shapes as if it wanted to merge with this being. The mana seemed to guide the blade as it sliced ​​through the air.

Horim came down the stairs behind him deep in thought, contemplating an uncertain future.

The day continued like this, with a mid-point break for Rohan to feed on, before resuming training in the afternoon. Like the day before, no clients this one.

In the evening, He came back to the forge, now was the beginning of the true hell.

Master Horim was in front of the hearth while he was stoking up the fire with the bellows in his hands.

"You took your time, didn't you? Come on and take my place, make this fire as big as possible."

Now, and since a few days ago, Rohan knew plenty well why he would never become a blacksmith. Just standing there, before this furnace with the bellows in his hands, he felt like he was going to melt. Sweet was all over his body as he was breathing with the mouth.

Stoking the fire, moving the metal ingots, sweeping up the floor, and all of that without looking away from Horim, hammering a piece of metal. It was the order of the blacksmith, as while he didn't teach him anything, he wanted Rohan to keep an eye on everything he was doing.

Forging steel or other metal was not something that could be learned in a short time, and even though Rohan was not truly his disciple, Horim had already decided to teach this young man how to forge.

Compared to when he lived quietly in the family home in Riveras, the effort Rohan put into his days was much more extensive. He had also decided to focus only on meditations, thus doubling the speed at which he was rising in rank. So, with two weeks corresponding to a month before, he deduces that he would go up to rank 3 in a few weeks at most.

His days, although harsh, were mostly peaceful.

What Rohan didn't know, however, was that one of the three customers who had entered the store during those two weeks was one of the men looking for him. After all, Rohan and Delia having taken a cart with the Viscount's family crest to come here, it was only fitting that it would be discovered at one point or another. One could even wonder how it had taken so long to find him.

Inside a room, a woman was sitting on a couch, looking through the window, a cup of tea in her hand. Her beauty was heavenly, and everyone in the city knew about her for being the most gorgeous woman out there. Her long brown hair was flowing on her left shoulder, stopping in front of her chest. She was wearing a pretty-looking orange dress, slightly ajar between her thighs due to her crossed legs.

The door of the room opened. Without announcing himself, a tall man entered, before stopping in front of his young miss, with a small table between them. Only at this moment did the woman turn her head to look at the newcomer.

"Can't you knock at a door when you entered, Matthew?" She sighed loudly. It wasn't the first time she was saying him to not enter like that, but it was for so long now that she was beginning to ignore it. "So? what do you need?"

"I have some news about the attempted kidnapping, young miss." The man, a sword on the hip and an armor on his back, was humbly stretching his hand to give a letter to the young miss, who showed an excited smile when she heard that.

"Ho? Great! I was really curious how did this Delia had escaped this time." She snatched the paper with a fast movement before reading it thoroughly. Matthew, watching this scene, refrained a smile to bloom on his expressionless face. She was already an adult, but sometimes, she truly acted like a child.

The letter was a rapport. A short one. The only pieces of information on it were about an unknown warrior, coming from nowhere, who had suddenly appeared to help Delia to fight back against the bandits. He was supposed to be a rank 2 Beginner Warrior, with little chance to be a rank 3, while it was confirmed that he was looking young, maybe not even an adult. The woman was surprised after reading this rapport.

"What do you think about it, Matthew? A rank 2 warrior, maybe not even 16 years old, and nobody knows who he is?"

"I don't know, young miss, but I am sure that this man will be interested in this warrior, or at least, he will want to suppress him. After all, he had lost a man because of him."

Matthew didn't really care about this nobody, and he knew that when his young Miss before had ask this man to send a warrior and capture Delia, she didn't took into consideration the result at all.. So whoever was this unknown warrior was not important for him.