Chapter 8: (Not) A Blacksmith

Chapter 8: (Not) A Blacksmith

“—big show about something minor! You can make that again in a few minutes. I’ve seen you do it!”

“That’s not the point, Seris!”

The words thrown back and forth were understood more clearly as Cal walked closer. He was walking straight through the house—which had barely any usable furniture—to the back doorway. Just like the front doorway, the door was ripped off the hinges.

All of this indicated the house wasn’t meant to live in. And with what Cal saw in the backyard, he understood why.

Seris told him that her friend—Orrin—was saving up money to pay for the blacksmith test. The setup reeked of a self-made, temporary, works-well-enough smithy.

Cal recognized the forge, anvil, racks, and dizzying variety of hammers and other tools. Even if it looked rough, he couldn’t deny that, in his uninformed eyes, this looked like a blacksmith's workspace.

“Fine, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again—Cal!” Seris’s annoyed expression turned into smug pride. “See Orrin! I told you I brought a customer!”

It took everything Cal had to stop himself from laughing. These two were a perfect pair when they stood next to each other.

Seris was mussed up with her dirt-stained face and well-worn hunting outfit, and Orrin had a similar look. His face had a light sheen of sweat from the work he had been doing, black smudges from whatever it was blacksmiths used, and a tattered outfit that exposed his arms and legs. The boy was far skinnier than any blacksmith had the right to be.

Cal personally thought the outfit was unwise when working with hot metal, but who was he to comment on what someone should wear when they were more experienced.

“... Seris,” Orrin hissed unsubtly. “You brought an Initiate here? Are you mad?”

“Cal is awesome, I swear it!” Seris said while nodding furiously.

“Seris is exaggerating, but I like to think I’m alright,” Cal interjected before they could start arguing again. “She told me that you were as good as the town blacksmith. Is that true?”

“I’m better,” Orrin replied with a confidence that threw him off.

He is fearful that I am here and still dares to make such a claim. This bodes well for Seris’s boasts about him.

“Then you can help me out with those,” Cal stated, motioning his head to Seris and what she held.

“... Common gardening equipment?”

He thought that was an unfair insult to his precious pickaxe, but Orrin wasn’t incorrect. Cal cleared his throat. “My farming tools.”

“Right, that. So you want me to replace these?”

“Replacing the plow and shovel is acceptable, but I want the pickaxe repaired,” Cal insisted, not wanting to lose his progress on it, no matter how small.

“Most of the metal on the pickaxe will have to be replaced,” Orrin warned. “Even the town blacksmith will do the same if he doesn’t refuse the fix in the first place.”

I expected this. Most of the pickaxe’s head is still in pieces on the field. As long as my interface considers it the same, I don’t care.

“That’s fine, but I want you to make the plow and shovel first. Seris might be confident in your abilities, but I must see it myself.”

Orrin stared at him blankly before switching his focus to the tools in Seris’s arms. “You want me to prove my abilities by making a shovel.”

“And a plow,” Cal added before managing the agitation the boy must be feeling. “I’m not insulting you, Orrin. I’m taking a risk here and need to see something basic first. You can count me as a loyal customer if you prove yourself.”

Orrin’s expression cleared, the stubbornness slowly disappearing. “That sounds fair. I’ll make these for you free of charge, Initiate Cal.”

“Yes! I knew this would end well!” Seris cheered on the sidelines.

Cal smiled at her before addressing Orrin. “I always pay for work. Tell me your usual charge.”

“... No, you’re probably right—”

“Why are you being led around by a mortal?” A soft voice interrupted Cal from behind.

He turned to see a woman who embarrassingly contrasted him in cleanliness and appearance. Seris—with her dirt-smudged face—shouldn’t even be mentioned.

“Sorry? Were you talking to me?” Cal asked, though it was obvious she was.

“Do you see any other Initiate around?” She looked amused instead of annoyed. “You must be new. Follow me, I’ll introduce you to the others.”

Cal scanned her body again and noticed some details that were missed at first glance: faint calluses on her fingertips, slightly discolored nails despite being cleaned, and a sun-kissed complexion. The light, earthy herbal scent tied it all together.

“You’re a gardener,” he stated.

“Well done,” she smiled. “This gardener has a name, Vaela. Who might you be?”

“Cal. Pleased to meet you.” He noticed Seris’s shoulders slumping out of the corner of his eye. She must have thought that her time as his guide was over.

I promised to myself to be more considerate this time around, so I will not leave this girl stranded. But why does she have to look so much like a sad cat every time?

“Welcome to the outside club, Cal,” Vaela said wryly. “You’ll be bored out of your mind, but it’s a decent life.”

“I’m actually hoping for something of that sort. Anyway, you’ll have to excuse me, Vaela. I’ll catch up with you later. I’m enjoying the tour my friend is giving me right now.”

That reply apparently shocked Vaela enough to stare at him blankly when he left with Seris. As for Seris herself, she was looking at him with even starrier eyes than before.

If Vaela was anything to go by, the Initiates here don’t necessarily abuse their power. They just... treat the mortals as invisible, which might be worse in some ways.

“Heh, I’m your friend.”

Cal shifted his eyes from the approaching bazaar to Seris’s smug grin. “Congratulations?”

“Orrin is going to be so jealous,” Seris’s smug grin became... smugger.

I wonder if they grew up together. They fight like the siblings I knew from the core guild.

“Come on, friend. I’ll show you something special for admitting the truth,” Seris moved closer and dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper. “One of the sellers has something that feels like a treasure. Nobody’s buying it because they think it’s too expensive.”

Cal’s eyes darted around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. Nobody was paying attention besides a few Initiates that gathered next to Vaela a good distance away.

“And how do you know it’s worth more than the asking price?” Cal matched Seris’s whisper.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged casually before immediately contradicting herself. “I just know. I always do.”

“You’ll have to give me more than that, Seris.”

“I mean, I was never able to buy what felt like treasures before, but I watched the people that did, and they always disappeared,” Seris had an excited gleam in her eyes. “They must have sold them for a lot of gold and left the town for the city.”

The city she was speaking of was Lumina—the only city in the Celestial Order’s territory. It is located near the Central Sanctum, which was the official name for the core guild. However, Cal felt Seris was gravely mistaken.

She might be correct about being able to detect treasures, but the fate of those who bought them is not so rosy. It’s more likely they were killed before the guild seized whatever they purchased. I should stay far away from this...

“Interesting,” Cal’s eyes matched the gleam that Seris possessed. If he was going to take a different path to power, he would explore opportunities before discarding them. This one needed further exploration. “Take me there, Seris.”