Now that I was alone, I was free to explore the city. First things first: I needed to find a blacksmith.

I glanced down at myself and sighed. Fighting in my inner clothes wasn’t exactly the image of a noble knight. My inability to equip the Nightsky set had left me underequipped for battle, and that was more embarrassing than I’d liked to admit. I needed to find some proper armor soon. The idea of parading around in rags wasn’t cool.

Also, it was good practice to service your blade whenever you could. Any weapon, doesn’t matter if it was the Nightsky Blade, OO Holy Sword, or the XX Demon Cleaver, would become blunt after prolonged use. None of them were immune to wear and tear. When that happened, you had to bring it to a smith to sharpen it. Otherwise, you shouldn't be surprised if your sword broke in the middle of combat. I examined the edge of the Nightsky Blade, running my thumb lightly over the scratches.

Nightsky Blade Durability: 80%

It was still sharp, but not like it should be. Wouldn’t hurt to service it.

After a bit of wandering, I found a small blacksmith’s shop tucked into a corner of the craftsmen's district. As I stepped inside, the sound of metal striking metal greeted me. The forge roared in the background, but after walking through the desert, the heat barely fazed me.

Tools of various sizes lined the walls: hammers, tongs, and implements I couldn't name. The air was thick with the scent of hot metal, coal smoke, and leather oil. In one corner, a barrel of water hissed as the blacksmith periodically quenched his work, sending up clouds of steam.

The blacksmith himself was a burly man with soot-stained arms wearing a leather apron marked with countless burns and scratches from years at the forge. He looked up from the sword he was shaping as I approached, his face glistening with sweat. Several half-finished swords and pieces of armor hung from hooks nearby.

I unsheathed the Nightsky Blade and held it out to him. "I need this repaired."

He wiped his hands on his apron and carefully inspected the blade.

"That's a rare artifact you've got there, sir," his eyes shone bright, as if he was gazing upon a chest of gold rather than steel. He ran his finger along the flat of the blade, tracing the subtle patterns in the metal.

"Of the six tiers of equipment - Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, Legendary, Divine – this is easily legendary tier. The craftsmanship alone..." he trailed off, shaking his head in wonder.

“So how much to sharpen it?” I asked

The blacksmith shook his head, almost regretfully. He handed the blade back to me with careful movements, treating it with the reverence it deserved. "Sir, a priceless weapon like this..." He glanced around the shop, at his modest tools and simple forge. "Its beyond my ability to handle this. One wrong move with a blade of this caliber could ruin it forever. I'm afraid you'll need a master smith, someone who specializes in legendary artifacts."

"Hmm." I had mixed feelings as I resheathed the Nightsky Blade. On one hand, I was proud that I had such a rare weapon, something that could make even an experienced craftsman's eyes light up with wonder.

On the other hand, a master smith sounded expensive. Legendary weapons usually came with legendary maintenance costs.

I gave him a nod and left the shop.

Tracking down a master smith in a city as large as Caelivitas wasn't easy. I spent the better part of two hours wandering the craftsmen's district, asking shopkeepers and apprentices for directions. Some merely shrugged, while others named prices for the information that made me balk. Eventually, a leather worker with kind eyes took pity on me.

"Master Doran's workshop," she said, pointing to a building in the distance. "Follow the Street of Shields until you reach the intersection, then take the alley behind it. Look for the gold anvil sign." She hesitated, then added, "But beware... his services aren't cheap. The nobles call him 'Gold-Hand Doran' - and not just for his skill with precious metals."

Following her directions led me to a building by the city wall. Unlike the humble workshop I'd just left, this one commanded attention. Soot-stained stone walls rose three stories high, furnished with real glass windows instead of oiled linen. Intricate metalwork decorated the doorway and window frames. And above it all hung a golden anvil sign, polished to a mirror shine.

Inside, the heat was far more intense than the previous shop. The air smelled of molten metal and burning coal, with undertones of more exotic materials - sulfur, perhaps. Unlike the cluttered warmth of the first shop, this workshop had an almost temple-like atmosphere. Finished pieces displayed on the walls caught the light from multiple forges, each burning with a different colored flame.

I approached the master smith, a stern-looking man with thick arms, who stood examining a piece of glowing metal with absolute concentration. His grey hair was pulled back in a severe knot, and his leather apron bore the elaborate stitching of an anvil. Several apprentices worked quietly in the background with clocklike precision.

When I presented the Nightsky Blade, his expression shifted from professional indifference to one of admiration.

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"This is a masterpiece," he said, turning the blade to inspect its edge. "A single-edged design to maximize sharpness, but look here—" he traced a finger along the spine, "the back is reinforced for durability.”

“Most legendary weapons bear designs from ancient times. Outdated and inefficient, relying more on magical enhancement to carry their weight.” he said as he looked at me. “But this, whoever forged this understood modern sword design."

He moved closer to one of his forges, but not the ones burning with normal orange flames. Instead, he chose a smaller hearth that burnt with dazzling bluish white flames. The blade seemed to respond to its proximity, the dark metal taking on a subtle sheen.

"Made of mithril, no..." He paused, adjusting a lens attached to a flexible metal arm mounted near the forge. "A mithril-adamantium alloy. Extraordinarily difficult to work with. The heat required to forge such a combination. Few forges can reach it."

Then, he reached into a leather pouch at his belt and withdrew a pinch of crystalline powder. He held the blade near the flames and sprinkled the powder along its length.

The effect was immediate. Ancient glyphs blazed to life along the blade's surface, not just on one side but in layers, some floating just above the metal itself. "Embedded ancient runes," he said. "Multiple layers, interlinked... enhances magical conductivity by a hundred percent. It’s a work of beauty."

Finally, he reached for a crystal that sat on a velvet cushion near his workbench. The crystal was perfectly smooth and seemed to glow with its own inner light. When he pressed it to the blade's surface, the crystal's light winked out instantly, replaced by an absolute darkness that seemed to spread outward like ink in water.

"Ohh," he breathed, and for the first time, I heard something like fear mix with his professional appreciation. "And it's infused with the forbidden dark element. Not just coated or enchanted, almost like it's been quenched in liquid darkness itself." His hands trembled slightly as he set the crystal down. He wiped his palms on his apron before raising his gaze to meet mine.

"Such a priceless artifact...” His voice lowered. “Even in the old texts, when the world still knew twilight, such craftsmanship was rare.” He caught himself, fingers drumming anxiously on his workbench. "Or so the stories say, of course. Mere legends, nothing more."

I perked up at the mention of twilight. "The old texts? What do they say about the night?"

The master smith's face went carefully blank, but his hand instinctively reached for an old medallion hanging at his neck - black iron, I noticed, not the golden symbols of the Light God that most wore. "Young man," he said slowly, “you ask questions that could..." He glanced meaningfully at the door, "...attract unwanted attention."

He straightened his apron, composure returning. "It'll be ten gold to service this blade."

I blinked at him. Ten gold? “That’s ridiculous," I said, staring at the man like he had just suggested I trade my soul. If it cost 10 gold to use the Nightsky blade for one battle, I would rather bite monsters to death with my teeth."

"On the contrary, I think that's a very reasonable price to handle an illegal dark weapon, don't you think?" His voice dropped lower, and I noticed his apprentices quietly slipping into the back room. "The Church takes a... particular interest in such artifacts. One might say the price includes a certain discretion."

“Illegal?”

“It is forbidden in the empire of Lumindarael to use the dark element.”

“Why?”

He paused before he replied. “I am but a mere blacksmith, such questions are beyond my knowledge.”

His furtive behavior made me think otherwise but I remembered my experience with Solcaeli and decided it was best not to push such topics.

Going back to my sword, ten gold was way too much. I needed alternatives.

“How about that sword over there?” I asked, while pointing to a plain looking standard issue blade. If it cost that much to repair, I might as well get a brand-new sword.

“Our common iron sword? It’s pretty basic, will only cost you one gold sir” he replied.

“ What about the staff over there?” I asked, curious at the price to outfit a mage.

“You have good eyes sir. Our uncommon mahogany staff is one of our most popular items. Crafted by our master woodworker and blessed by the old gods. It is made of the most durable of materials and will last a lifetime of casting. Guaranteed. It can be yours for the price of 10 silver (0.1 gold).”

… I should have chosen a magic class instead.

In the end, I left the arms shop with the iron sword and some basic leather armor feeling disappointed. I’m supposed to be the legendary Knight of the Night? More like Knight of the Tight Budget.

I found an empty alley behind the craftsmen's district to test my new equipment. The leather armor creaked as I moved, stiff and unyielding in all the wrong places.

Drawing both swords, I held them side by side. The contrast was almost comical, like comparing a masterwork painting to a child's stick figure. The iron sword looked... well, exactly like what one gold could buy you. Plain, functional, and about as inspiring as a rusty spoon.

I gave it a few practice swings. The balance was off, the grip slightly too wide, and it moved through the air with all the grace of a drunk bird. Next to me, the Nightsky Blade pulsed as if offended by the comparison.

"Sorry," I muttered to it. "But I can't afford your maintenance fees. You're like one of those premium gacha characters that cost too much to upgrade."

Iron Sword ATK: 15 Nightsky Blade ATK: 150 (Currently reduced to 120 due to durability)

I sighed at the stats. Even at 80% durability, the Nightsky Blade hit harder than a fully repaired iron sword ever could. But a sword you couldn't afford to maintain was just expensive wall decoration.

I tried a basic combat sequence - slash, parry, thrust. The iron sword followed my movements, but something felt wrong. Where the Nightsky Blade had practically moved on its own, anticipating my intentions, this one fought me every step.

"Right," I muttered. "No fancy techniques with this one. Just point the sharp end at the enemy and hope for the best."

Still, as I adjusted my stance and started another practice sequence, I found myself adapting. The sword might be basic, but I could work with basic. Even starter equipment could get you through if you knew what you were doing. It just meant fights would take longer, margins for error would be smaller, and I'd have to learn proper technique instead of relying on my weapon's power.

I finished the sequence with a thrust. Not the worst. I could get used to it.

The Nightsky Blade hummed softly at my hip, as if jealous and reminding me of what I was working toward. Eventually, I'd figure out how to maintain it properly. For now, though, I had to work with what I could afford.

A true knight's strength came from skill, not just equipment. At least, that's what I told myself as I practiced with my budget blade, trying very hard not to think about just how many hits it would take to down even a basic monster with this thing. But hey, at least I didn’t have to bite monsters to death.

Not yet, anyway.