Brock couldn’t help but be wary of every shadow he saw as he trotted back to the hospital. Sure, none of them seemed to have aura flowing up out of them, but he was still paranoid, nonetheless. Idly, he itched his scabbing flank wounds. Yeah. I’m never gonna feel safe around a shadow again.

As the chirps of birds and rustles of canopies soothed his caution, his thoughts turned to the pleasant surprise he’d had only a half hour prior. It was good to speak with Ari again, and her sister too, even if he’d kind of beaten the shit out of her last time they’d met.

Honestly, he had expected them to be those kind of people that he met along the way, got along with, then never saw or heard from again. They seemed to be doing well for themselves, and unexpectedly, both sisters were now getting along quite nicely. It was a far contrast from the bitch slapping and yelling that had been occurring when he’d left.

“An improvement,” Brock muttered to his surroundings, “if I do say so myself.”

As for the contents of their little chat, well it was mostly this and that, the usual ‘how have you been’ and ‘you wouldn’t believe what happened’. Nothing too interesting, but nothing too boring. Just… normal conversation.

For the most part, the reason they’d wanted to talk to him had been because of a need to say thank you. Apparently, they had gotten their lucky break when Fon’s teleporting buddy showed up in the city a week or so after he and Harry had left, jumpy and terrified.

Brock did find it a little suspicious that they knew Jonathan had teleported them, but he supposed that there wasn’t really any other way for him to just disappear without him. That aside, they had questioned the man and discovered that Brock was indeed upon the mainland. The rest of the investigation, before and after, was mostly a prediction of cliches.

Powerful people can’t help but leave witnesses and footprints no matter where they go, and Ha-Eun had been betting on that. So, when she’d brought him up to Hiroto, hoping that he’d heard of him, she wasn’t even surprised by the answer that he was actually in the city. Gratitude had of course followed, by both the sisters in fact, although Ha-Eun hadn’t let him leave until he promised a rematch between them at some point.

From the fire in her voice, she clearly dreamed of beating his ass in revenge. He scratched his head and watched a bird fly overhead. I did kinda destroy her back in the drug bust…

As far as he knew, the conversation between Hiroto and Ari was still ongoing. They were deciding a matter on a potentially trade of solar panels and other supplies, he believed, not that he cared all that much. He had had the foresight to ask Hiroto to get some for King’s Cavity, however. Margo could thank him later and discuss the payment with the old man after.

He’d also mentioned their need for healers, and Hiroto had said he’d see what he could do.

Sighing to himself about nothing in particular, Brock glanced up at the rooftops of the approaching city, its low skyline looming among the lessening canopies. It truly was a stunning place of mixed Japanese architecture. He could just barely see the hospital several blocks away if he stood on his toes. He give it probably about a five minute walk, or a twenty second sprint.

He felt at the wounds on his side, his shoulder throbbing. They stung. Or a ten-minute limp…

While they’d scabbed over mostly by now, the pain was yet to recede fully. Unless he made a quick movement, the cuts wouldn’t reopen, though he didn’t really trust himself with that. Brock grit his teeth as he thought about all the ways he was gonna get Minerva back for this. Idly, as he hissed out a breath, he thought of her strange use of aura for physical enhancement.

…It’d be useful. Brock entertained the thought for only a moment before he shook his head and scoffed. I’d rather shit my pants than ask her to teach me.

Brock hissed out another breath and continued onward. He had already seen the woman do it once, and with his incredible memory, he could vividly remember what he had seen and felt. He didn’t need her, he’d be able to teach himself, though he was sure it’d take a while. The only problem was that he didn’t understand aura at all, so he had no idea what she was actually doing.

I’ll figure it out. Eventually… huh?

He stopped in his gait as he happened upon a familiar area. It was that little market street where he’d bought the Treasures for Harry and Fon and gotten directions to the smithery from that guy. Looking around, Brock couldn’t see either of those people he’d spoken to among the street vendors.

Being here, however, did force him to remind himself to give Harry and Fon those Treasures when he saw them. He moved to continue but stopped. Considering something, Brock looked down the street that led off to Donte’s Smithery.

“I mean… while I’m here, I may as well.” Brock shrugged. Harry and Fon can wait.

Cackling to himself in sauchenfraude, Brock switched directions and proceeded toward his new target. He felt excitement bubbling up inside him.

**

“Ummm… Fon?”

Harry took a step back, his voice wavering and his palms sweaty. Idly, he glanced at the walls of the city far behind him. Inwardly, he cursed himself out. Ahead of him, Fon was waving her hands placatingly, trying to calm a Pontiac as it snarled at them. Harry didn’t understand the body language of monsters, but her attempts didn’t seem to be working.

It had all started when Brock had up and disappeared on them. The man hadn’t come back even an hour later, and Harry found that he couldn’t sit still for that long. So, they left. The forest surrounding the city had looked nice, they supposed.

It wasn’t.

Their current predicament wouldn’t have even been that much of a problem if the monster wasn’t at such a respectable level. They’d certainly be able to handle the creature, but unlike Brock, they didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of injury. And they would a hundred percent sustain a few.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

[F] Pontiac (LVL 72)

Fon looked back at him, her eyes about two millimetres from bulging out of her head and flopping down her cheeks, “It’s… ok. I’ve got this, Harry. My… my parents had a dog.”

The boy stared at the one and a half meter tall, blood thirsty monster and the thick strands of drool dripping from its concerningly wide maws, “Did the dog want to rip your head off?”

“…Well… no.”

The beast snarled and placed a paw forward. Its claws carved gashes in the loam. Harry took a step back. Then one more.

Unlike him, however, Fon slowly inched closer to the raging creature. A cold sweat or seven dripped down the teen’s forehead, “Fon! What the hell are you doing?!”

It was rather hard to portray his panic while whisper-screaming, but he thought he got the emotion across. To her credit, Fon didn’t look back, or even flinch at his words. Instead, she looked to have ignored them entirely. Harry saw her chest expand as she took a steadying breath, and delicately, she rose up onto the tips of her toes.

Her arms spread wide, and Harry deadpanned as he realised what she was going to do. I thought I was dumb…

“RAARGH!!” her voice echoed out, loud and hoarse. Harry froze, and so did the wolf. Absentmindedly, he noticed Fon shaking with fear.

Then, the beast moved.

“Ahhh, fuck.”

Harry knew they were about to have a bad day.

**

The front of the store was the same as it had been when he’d first arrived all those days ago. The two flaming hammers crossed over each other. While he hadn’t noticed it before, or perhaps possessed the capability to notice it before, the energy he had sensed imbued within wasn’t an Augment like he’d assumed… but aura?

Much like he had tasted Jordan’s aura to be that of smoke, this aura seemed to taste of flame and coals. And he could see it wafting off the object like steam from a fresh meal. I thought I was special, but literally everyone I’ve met today is better at controlling and using aura than me.

He made a note to ask Donte about it after they talked about whatever he had wished to speak of. Brock was dedicated to improving his aura utilisation at this point, and any and all methods and techniques were greatly appreciated. Aura was a new faucet of power he’d found for himself to pursue, and there was no reason not to strengthen another aspect of his abilities.

Approving of his own work ethic, Brock nodded to himself and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that the ‘System-approved’ sword Donte had made was gone, probably sold to some rich warrior in the city. Thankfully, it was replaced with another weapon, this time a mace, and seeing as the still unnamed boy was once again not at the counter, he moved to check it out.

Up close, it was easy to see that this weapon was of superior make compared to the sword, if only by a little. The leather wrapped handle looked comfortable to hold and the shaft looked reliable. The head seemed to be more a mix of individual blades than an actual spiked mace head, but he assumed it gave it the best of both worlds; slash and blunt force.

And unlike the sword, it wasn’t a dull sheen of yellow, but blue.

Skyrite Mace (Uncommon)

A pristine-quality mace that has been recognised by the System as an Item. Forged by a budding, yet skilled blacksmith, it boasts a respectable durability and the innate ability to amplify the force of any strike. Suitable for F Grade.

Brock’s eyebrows rose as he read over the description. While the ‘pristine-quality’ thing was knew, the mention of force amplification was what really drew his attention. He didn’t really expect the effect to be all that significant, but it was still an interesting ability, nonetheless.

Skyrite was also a metal he had never heard of before, and it made him wonder just what the hell the city had in that ‘mine’ of theirs. Or more accurately, it made him wonder if what they had in there was better than what King’s Cavity had in their chasm. All the place needed was one drawing factor to cement it as an important city.

They already had Gor’eth Kung’s corpse going for them, so why not something else?

Scratching his chin, he focused on the aura that he could see rising up off the weapon. It seemed to ignore the glass case and flowed right through it. It wasn’t strong, just a collection of light wisps, but it was still there regardless, imbued into the metal. Brock didn’t know whether the metal itself had the ability to amplify force, or if the imbued aura was responsible.

He’d seen things like enchanting in video games before, but he’d never thought he’d see something similar in real life, if that was indeed what this was. If Minerva could strengthen herself with aura, why couldn’t someone strengthen an item with it too? Brock licked his lips as he wondered about all the different possibilities aura could bring.

“Oh, it’s you!?” the familiar voice of the counter boy called out behind him, and Brock glanced over at him, “I’ll get my dad, wait a sec.”

Brock raised a brow at how casually him, the customer, was being treated, but ultimately shrugged as he found that he didn’t care. What he did care about, however, was how rarely that kid seemed to be behind the counter when someone needed him. Or maybe it was just Brock’s bad luck.

He should invest in a door bell.

He waited for only a minute, before a man he assumed was Donte came out of the back to greet him. Brock approached and they shook hands over the counter. Unsurprisingly, the blacksmith had a scarily firm grip, “So you’re that kid that requested the bracer?”

Brock’s lip twitched at being called a kid, but otherwise he didn’t comment, “Yeah. My… friend said you wanted to talk to me?”

Donte was a tall bloke, a few heads taller than Brock himself, safely in the realm of 6 feet. He only looked to be in his early forties, and surprisingly lacked any grey hairs in his goatee or manbun. His eyes were sharp and his irises hazel. Like Ivan, his muscles rippled at any and every movement, and his biceps were easily bigger than Brock’s head. Like two testosterone filled watermelons.

From his aura, Brock could tell that the blacksmith was around level 70, “The shadow girl? Real grumpy one, huh? Anyways, I’ve been having some trouble with your item here,” he tossed the majority of the bracer, many sections now having been taken apart and removed, onto the bench.

“Like what?” Brock ventured.

Donte clicked his tongue, “Frankly, I’m not an artificer, I’m a blacksmith. There are too many complex parts, and it’ll take far longer for me to make them all than just a few days. Maybe a week. A month tops.”

Brock nodded, and waved a hand dismissively, “Eh, I’m not going anywhere, not for a while at least.”

Still need to heal. Maybe I’ll get Kim to check up on my pathways after I go back to the hospital, see if they’ve gotten any better? He knew that was the right call, especially since he’d been having that issue with his blood leaking everywhere lately. Maybe it’s the pathways…?

“Great,” Donte said, clearly happy he hadn’t lost his customer over this, “I have to say though, whoever made this item was a fucking genius.”

A smirk slid across Brock’s face, and he nodded, “Yeah. He is.”

A series of back and forth followed, and the man found it hilarious when he’d decided to give Donte the Aetherite to work into his weapon. The blacksmith’s eyes had bulged so far that Brock thought they were going to fall into the box holding the ore.

While it was an invaluable piece of metal, he could always obtain more back in the chasm, so it was better if he just coughed it up now. The better his weapon was, the better off he’d be after all. As he watched Donte hurry off with the box into the back, Harry and Fon flashed in his mind, and he’d knew he’d been keeping them waiting a bit too long.

But there was one more matter he had to attend to before that, “Hey Donte? About that aura you have in your weapons?”

Information was power, and Brock was prepared to grasp on every strand of it.