61st of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd cycle

“Greetings, Master Swiftbeak,” Dandelion hailed a white-haired man with broad shoulders and massive arms, who registered to Newt’s third eye as a third realm cultivator.

“Dandelion, my boy,” the blacksmith exclaimed with a smile, moving to clap Dandelion on the back. “Have you brought that ice jade you promised?”

How many pterodactyls do you kill with one stone? Newt wondered, but did not interrupt what looked like a reunion of two old friends.

“I am heading out to get it as soon as I am done helping my friend pick some decent pieces of equipment.” Dandelion stood his ground as the massive hand smacked him on the back and motioned towards Newt.

Master Swiftbeak sized up Newt, taking an extra long moment to examine his face and eyes.

“You are young, boy, and you already need my wares? How old are you?”

“Good day, Master Swiftbeak,” Newt greeted, discomforted by the amount of attention he had received, before answering the question. “I am seventeen years old.”

The blacksmith’s eyes went wide.

“He’s a seventeen-year-old and already at the fourth realm?” He snapped his head towards Dandelion, then back towards Newt, frowning while taking in his red and orange robe. “Which sect are you from, Young Master? This old man does not recognize your colors.”

“Master Swiftbeak,” Dandelion interrupted the blacksmith before he embarrassed Newt further. “Newstar is at the third realm, not the fourth, but I believe a superior weapon would further accelerate his growth both as a warrior and as a cultivator.”

The blacksmith relaxed slightly, and Dandelion continued.

“Newstar is a promising member of the Formation Scribes’ Guild. His primary weapon is the spear.” Dandelion motioned towards the weapon strapped to Newt’s back with his chin. “And he will join me on the mission to bring you ice jade, so he needs a smaller weapon better fit for tunnel combat.”

The blacksmith nodded absentmindedly, processing what Dandelion was saying.

“How good are you at spell formation shorthand and etchings?”

Newt stared at him blankly.

“He is just a journeyman,” Dandelion helped Newt answer the question. “You need a master, like me, to do what you need, or maybe you could gamble all the materials you have been gathering and all your hard work and leave your masterpiece in an expert’s hands.”

Swiftbeak clenched his teeth, looking towards Newt, but not seeing him.

“I’m not paying that much,” he hissed through his teeth.

“You could ask Barbadon about his rates.” Swiftbeak winced as if physically struck, but Dandelion kept talking in his signature cheery tone. “Or we could work out a deal…”

“What kind of a deal?”

“Newstar here needs a sturdy short-sword,” Dandelion left the words hanging, and Master Swiftbeak took embarrassingly long to realize what he was hinting at.

“You want me to pay you in advance,” the blacksmith said incredulously, “with a valuable item, before you head out to gather the materials I need to pay you for, using the item I gave you?”

Dandelion nodded. “And in return for your item, I will enchant the blade of ice and fire you are seeking to forge, for which nobody has yet volunteered to bring you the resources, and the only other person who can enchant the blade hates your guts.”

“I can go to another city,” Master Swiftbeak growled.

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“Yes, because wasting time, traveling half a season at your age is bound to be more profitable than paying us with a blade you can forge in a week.”

Master Swiftbeak cursed, but Dandelion did not blink.

He threw me out when I acted like that. Newt made note of that thought and decided he would use it to taunt Dandelion later.

“That’s four hundred and fifty fourth realm gems!” Master Swiftbeak implored when curses failed, and Newt’s vision swam.

“And it costs you less than three hundred in materials and effort, so you are actually saving one hundred and fifty.”

Master Swiftbeak frowned, considering the words for a moment before finding the flaw. “But, I would’ve sold it for four hundred and fifty!”

“You would settle for four hundred once you finished all the engraving here and had nothing to do outside your forge.”

Master Swiftbeak raised his finger to argue, but said nothing, considering Dandelion’s words.

“You might have even sold it for three hundred and fifty if you were bored enough. So this deal is clearly advantageous for you.”

“I ain’t buying your nonsense, but I will give you the sword, if you promise to do the enchantments for me.”

You just bought his nonsense!

Master Swiftbeak ignored Newt’s flabbergasted expression and proceeded to show him the rack with short-swords he had in stock. There were only five, one filled with gilded decorations, which looked like an ornament, while the other four looked like practical, lethal weapons. One of them lacked a guard. It was black and appeared extremely slick, reflecting no light at all.

“That one is for assassins.” Dandelion noticed which blade caught Newt’s attention. “I am surprised you have a piece like this.”

Master Swiftbeak shrugged. “A mysterious stranger commissioned it, paid half in advance, and never appeared to pick it up. Been two years, and the waiting period has expired, so I’m selling it at half price.”

Dandelion rolled his eyes.

“It is a good weapon. Hand guards make little difference against spirit beasts, however, you will suffer from infamy if anyone sees you with it.” He glanced at Master Swiftbeak and grinned. “And we hardly care about the discount.”

The old blacksmith snorted, barely holding back his curses, and Newt continued examining the three remaining weapons, but other than the slight difference in design, they were all the same to him.

“This one is his early prototype of Blade of Ice and Fire,” Dandelion pointed at a short-sword with a grip wrapped in white scales. “The fire-bronze blade is tinged with fire energy, and it will suit you, make your spiritual energy more responsive. With some clever enchanting and skill, you could even use it once you hit the fifth realm, making it a quasi-fifth realm weapon.”

“That one costs more than the other fourth realm short-swords,” Master Swiftbeak started complaining, but Dandelion spoke as soon as the blacksmith paused to draw breath.

“And yet you were perfectly fine with using a half-priced weapon as payment because it fit the description.”

After some more back and forth, Newt left the Blacksmiths’ Guild’s market with his new short-sword, a confirmation that his ancestral spear could last him one more realm, and a grumpy old blacksmith who hated his and Dandelion’s guts.

“No need to feel bad. Swiftbeak will get over it, and he will even be happy once I complete his fabled blade.”

“I’m feeling bad because of how many spirit gems I owe you.” Four hundred and seventy fourth realm spirit gems! How do I even start paying for that?

“Missions for fourth realms at the Association pay in fourth realm spirit gems, but even third realm missions will earn you the listed reward, plus some third realm spirit gems for completing the mission.”

“What do you mean, plus some third realm spirit gems?”

“I mean plus some third realm spirit gems. The imperials stipend everyone who completes the missions. If you put in enough work and pick tougher missions, you can earn a better living from Association’s missions than from crafting. Our mission today has a bonus of twenty spirit gems. The more lethal the mission, the greater the bonus.”

Newt frowned. “Wait, you’re saying the imperial family pays the bonus for all the missions? How doesn’t that beggar them?”

Unexpectedly, Dandelion burst into laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“You! The Association is for cultivators of sixth realm and lower, its role to oversee the plethora of minor problems sprouting across the empire daily. Let us suppose they have a thousand sixth realm cultivators, and that they complete their missions every week for a reward of one hundred sixth realm spirit gems. That is one hundred thousand sixth realm spirit gems, or less than one hundred seventh realm ones, or less than a tenth of an eight realm one, or less than, do you understand what I am saying?”

Newt nodded, realizing how tiny he was.

“We are nothing before a tenth realm cultivator. Even before a sixth realm cultivator, like Elder Frostgrave, we are barely ants. If she dropped a single cultivation resource she uses, both of us could reach the peak of the fifth realm.” Dandelion snapped his fingers. “Like that. This inequality is the reason we cannot be friends until I am at the cusp of her realm, and the reason why I will avoid her and avoid using her favor even if I am at the brink of death.”

Dandelion stopped and faced Newt, glaring into his eyes and speaking in a heavy voice, his amiable smile gone.

“Weakness, my dear Newstar, is a terminal condition. One we must fix at all costs.”