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“Kh!”
Julian’s feet slid back, heels digging into the ground as he blocked the force of a Fautyr charging straight at him.
The creature’s twisted horns pressed hard against Julian’s small shield, vibrating through his arm.
“Meehh!” He barely had any time to react as the Fautyr swung both of its arms, its dirty nails angling for his throat.
Julian abandoned the shield. There was no choice, as it was already wedged against the fautyr’s horns—and perhaps he just dodged back just in time, as another fautyr rammed through the air he’d been standing in just moments earlier.
But of course, Julian didn’t just dodge. With a sharp motion, he sliced across the back of the creature’s knee, meeting a bone-jarring resistance as his blade struck just right between the joints, forcing the Fautyr to just drop there and then.
Juliet, not far off, had been watching the action between her own swings. She already knew Julian could handle himself, but this—this was something else.
Sure, he’d made it through a dungeon and had experience fighting monsters, but she also knew the difference between his level and her own.
Julian shouldn’t be stronger than her, but he is. So, this is the kind of beings the gods favor, she thought.
But a head-splitting bleat jerked her focus back to her own battle as another fautyr lunged at her with its horns bared.
“Crap!” Juliet brought her axe up in a firm block, meeting the attack head-on. Unlike Julian, however, her feet did not slide across the ground at all and instead stood firm. And with a smirk, she slammed her elbow into the back of her axe.
“Meehhh!?” The fautyr’s horns cracked under her force, pieces flaking off as it staggered back, dazed. Unfortunately for the fautyr, that was the only moment Juliet needed to completely separate its head from the rest of its body.
But of course, this wasn’t going to be too easy.
The Fautyrs moved around them with unsettling coordination, their forms slightly disappearing into the boulders and the plateau walls. Their skin and fur seemed to change colors with each step, reflecting whatever material they were close to.
Their pathetic attempt to camouflage themselves, however, was completely useless against Julian.
A fautyr lunged toward him, expecting to catch him off guard. But alas, Julian did not even need to turn around to know that it was coming—he just casually dodged to the side, once again crouching down to slice it just behind its knee.
“MmmEehh!?” The Fautyr tumbled, letting out a furious hiss that almost sounded like words. Well, considering they could actually talk, it might have been trying to say something.
Soon, more and more lunged at Julian, none of them waiting for their turn as they all moved at the same time. But Julian was completely undeterred, his strikes aimed precisely at the weakest points.
“Hold on, hold on, Chat…” Cyrus, who was watching everything unfold while latching onto the plateau walls, muttered under his breath, his voice carrying a note of excitement.
His eyes flicked back and forth between Julian’s sharp, controlled strikes.
He couldn’t help but just breathe in awe at what he was witnessing. But most importantly, the Chat was loving it.
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Cyrus focused on Julian’s effortless movements, his hits landing with almost eerie precision, each strike more accurate than the last—this wasn’t something a newbie should be capable of.
Cyrus recalled the little meeting he’d had with MEGAN back on Earth just before the journey started, remembering how she mentioned that Julian had begun training in actual combat. But this…
…Julian’s hits were so exact they seemed almost too good to be true—each move targeting the Fautyrs’ weak spots perfectly.
Knees, necks, wrists. Every strike cut through with pinpoint accuracy, like he wasn’t just fighting but disassembling them piece by piece. Cyrus watched, captivated by Julian’s flawless aim. In blacksmithing, Julian was already a legend for his perfect hits. But now, here, on the battlefield, he seemed to also be hitting [Perfect] strikes.
“Just… what sort of monster are we witnessing here, Chat!?” Cyrus mumbled, shaking his head with a smirk.
And Julian just continued, seemingly improving right in front of everyone’s eyes.
And soon, the clearing grew eerily quiet as the last fautyr fell, a dull thud echoing against the rocky walls around them.
“Ha…” Julian exhaled, his stance loosening as he felt the silence settle over the battlefield. For a moment, he almost forgot where he was, the thrill of his own movements taking over until the stillness of victory finally reached him.
Juliet approached him, catching her breath as she observed him with an impressed, almost mystified look. “You… you know, I thought you could fight, pretty boy, but that? That was something else.”
“Sword Junkeh!!!” With the fautyrs all dead, Cyrus finally returned to the ground, a broad smile plastered across his face. “Look at you—if you keep this up, Humanity Engineering might just end up sponsoring us for an ad themselves.”
“Is… that a good thing?” Julian asked as he sheathed his sword; his entire demeanor, turning meek again.
“Good?” Cyrus scoffed, his voice ringing with amusement. “It’s more than good… it’s fucking great. We’ll basically be—what the.”
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*
And before Cyrus could finish his words, the sound of Juliet carving through the flesh of the fautyr whispered in his ears—it was the chat that caught it first, causing some of them to leave from the horrific sight.
“Hm?” Julian noticed the shift in Cyrus’s expression, causing him to turn around and also check on Juliet.
“Fautyr pelts are popular with adventurers, thieves, and assassins… all kinds of uses. They’re highly resistant to the elements.” Juliet started to explain without being asked.
“Oh?” And Julian seemed completely intrigued as he just left his conversation with Cyrus and approached Juliet, “And what about the horns?”
“Meh.” She casually smashed the twisted horns of the fautyr without any effort, “Not much we can use them for. They crumble into dust after they die. Mostly decorative, if anything.”
Julian, watching her work, glanced down at his own hands. “...Mind if I try?”
Juliet looked up, a little surprised, before letting out a small chuckle. “Sure, pretty boy. Go ahead. I think we’ve got a few extra knives in the pack.”
Julian went over to their supplies, rummaging through until he found one of the knives. He quickly began working with Juliet, his movements were careful, mimicking her technique as much as possible.
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“Not bad,” Juliet murmured, glancing over at him with a nod of approval. “Just don’t go too deep—you want to keep the pelt as intact as possible.”
“Right.” Julian responded, adapting his movements as he watched her.
And soon, with the creatures completely harvested and their pelts packed securely, the group finally moved on.
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It took a few more hours before a new horizon began to unfold before them—a vast expanse of deep blue, meeting with the sky and almost seamlessly melding with it. Julian wasn’t in the water at all, but it felt like he was drowning just by looking at it.
“That’s… the ocean.” Julian knew exactly what it was. Even though this was the first time he was actually seeing it, it felt as if he had seen it countless times. The ocean was MEGAN’s favorite thing, she had described it to him so many times—an endless, moving canvas of mysterious life.
“So… this is what it looks like,” he whispered to himself.
“You…” Juliet glanced back, her eyes softening as she felt the tremble in Julian’s breaths, “...You’ve never been to the ocean before?”
“I have, with my parents... a very long time ago.” Julian smiled, “But this is the first time I’m actually seeing it.”
“Huh…” Juliet was a little confused as to what Julian meant by that, but before she could actually push further, Cyrus’s loud voice rang through their ears.
“Alright, alright! We’re so close!” Cyrus raised his fist in the air, and his seikrobos did the same, “Let’s pick up the pace as some of the Chat are complaining already!”
Cyrus then pointed at the city resting next to the ocean. It was large, perhaps larger than Ethaca—but from afar, it wasn’t as grand. The buildings were shorter and there weren’t any towers at all… it wasn’t even surrounded by a wall.
“Onward, to Calydion!”
“The Chat he keeps on mentioning… what exactly is it?” Juliet glanced back at Julian.
“They are people watching us right now.”
“Huh… weird.”
And very soon, the road gradually widened, bustling with travelers and traders alike, all making their way to the city that now sprawled before them.
The closer they got to the city, the more intense the noise became—the haggling, the shouting—it was a thriving market, perhaps thriving too much as one would have a hard time trying to even find a place to actually walk.
And of course, they had to stall their seikrobos on one of the many stables outside the city—except for Julian’s, as it was responsible for carrying all of their things. Julian wanted to hold the reins of the seikrobos as they walked into the city, but alas.
“...They really don’t like you, huh.” Juliet softly chuckled as she grabbed the reins from Julian.
“You need to be very careful what you buy here, Sword Junkie.” Cyrus said, his eyes darting from stall to stall as they passed through the first establishment, “This is a trade city, meaning anyone can set up shop here—no permits at all. But that also means that it’s every customer for themselves. If you’re not careful, you’ll end up paying three times what you should.”
As they moved through the maze of stalls and booths, Julian listened to the hawking cries around him, each vendor trying to outdo the next in screams and enthusiasm.
The voices almost blend together in an orchestra. And unfortunately, no conductor at all to guide them.
“You don’t need any permits to sell here?” Julian asked.
“Nah,” Cyrus replied, casually pushing a vendor who tried to sell him something. “Also, if you want something… you know… special, I might know a few black markets here and there.”
Julian tilted his head. “Something special? Like what?”
“You know. Something something,” Cyrus chuckled, but Julian just blinked back at him, still completely confused as to what he was trying to say.
“How… do you know more than me?” Juliet, who was walking ahead of them with the seikrobos, glanced back at Cyrus, “And also, let’s not… do anything against the law for now and focus on heading to the blacksmith’s guild.”
“Aye, aye, el capitan!” Cyrus raised his thumbs.
To say that Calydion was populated would be an understatement. Julian couldn’t even walk without someone accidentally hitting him on the arm. This city… it seemed to alive for him. It was starting to make him uncomfortable being around so many people.
Fortunately, after seemingly spending an eternity winding through the crowded streets, they found themselves in an area almost devoid of any people.
Juliet stopped in front of an old building, its bricks worn and crumbling. A faded sign hung above the entrance, swaying precariously in the wind, its lettering barely readable.
“Is… this it?” Cyrus squinted, scanning the old building from floor to roof as he listened to the creak of… well, everything.
“It should be…” Juliet muttered, raising her war axe to steady the sign. “It says it’s the blacksmith’s guild, but… this isn’t quite how I remember it.”
Cyrus shrugged. “Maybe they moved to a bigger place and left this place to rot.”
“No. Someone’s here.” And while the two were contemplating whether they were in the right place, Julian placed his hand on the old bricks of the building, “I can hear it… metal.”
Juliet and Cyrus exchanged a glance, both slightly puzzled. They couldn’t hear anything but the noise of the city.
“What do you—” But before they could respond, Julian was already pushing the door open, leading them into the darkness of the old building.
As they stepped inside, a wave of silence enveloped them.
The clouds of dust danced in the dim light that filtered through broken windows, casting long shadows across the worn, empty space. There were pieces of chairs and tables scattered everywhere.
“This place…” Cyrus muttered, glancing around, “...looks like it’s been abandoned for ages.”
Juliet’s eyes swept across the walls, noting the empty hooks that might once have held weapons and tools. Her grip tightened on her axe. “There’s definitely something strange here. No way this is the same guild I remember.”
But Julian, still listening intently, started walking forward, his gaze fixed on the far side of the room.
“The sound… it’s coming from the back. Someone’s working,” he murmured, his footsteps echoing in the quiet.
“Oh… I hear it now.” Juliet whispered.
The trio moved through the shadows, their steps cautious as they followed the faint sound of clanging metal. With each step, the noise grew louder, rhythmic and deliberate, guiding them deeper into the heart of the guild.
At last, they reached the back where the forges were set up, the dim glow of embers casting a blue hue over the old, cracked stone walls.
And there, hunched over an anvil with a small flame flickering beside him, was an old man that seemed even older than the building itself. He was shirtless and gaunt, his bald head reflecting the faint blue glow of the fire.
“Hm?” And as he sensed their presence, he stopped, lifting his head to reveal a face worn with deep lines and wrinkles. His eyes were sharp, however, despite the drooping skin around them. The only hair he had were his thick, curled white eyebrows that nearly touched the side of his cheeks.
Julian took a step closer, but not toward the old man, no. His was gaze fixed on the flickering flame in the forge.
“This is…” He stretched his hand toward the flame, his expression shifting to a look of slight confusion.
“This flame…” Julian whispered, “...It’s cold?”
The old man’s lips curled into a slight grin as he heard that, his voice a raspy whisper that echoed through the quiet room.
“It is…” He whispered, “...But not cold enough.”
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