After we finished the fish soup prepared by the young servant, it seemed our conversation with Katashi was coming to an end. I wasn't looking for excuses to stay longer and impose myself. After all, I was confident this wouldn't be my last meeting with the Japanese, so there was no point in ruining the overall impression of myself for a momentary benefit. Pushing away the empty bowl, I was ready to rise from the stool and, as they say, take my leave, but a change in the blacksmith's eyes stopped me. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but it was precisely because of it that I didn't immediately stand up from the table. Instead, I stretched, raising my arms high, slightly dragging out the moment with this movement, and it paid off.
"Your project is quite interesting," Katashi said, placing his palms on the table and looking somewhere over my head. "At any other time, I would have taken it on." In his sigh, I discerned, it seemed to me, a light but quite sincere regret. "But at the moment, I have other matters." A shadow crossed his face. "Something didn't go as planned, and to complete an order I've already accepted, I'll have to..." Then he appeared to snap out of it and, waving his hand, finished his excuse, "Anyway, it doesn't matter. My problems are my own, don't worry about it."
"I recently met a group of earthlings, quite interesting people, by the way." I tilted my head, allowing a smile to appear on my face. "They noticed that social achievements often provide no less energy for the Core's growth than combat feats or clearing dungeons."
"And they're right," Katashi agreed. "I've only been in four dungeons all this time, and yet, I reached the Wootz step." He wasn't bragging, but his voice carried a sense of deserved pride. "But what are you getting at?" Instead of finishing, the future God of Labor suddenly fell silent, then looked at me again with an understanding smirk. "Do you think if you help solve my problem, you'll get an Achievement for it?"
Clicking my tongue, as if in mild regret that my "true intentions" had been revealed, I spread my arms wide:
"I did think about it. Yes. But imposing is not in my rules, so if you're against it, I won't insist on offering my help."
"That would have been quite an interesting experiment." These weren't just words of politeness - I could clearly sense notes of curiosity in the Japanese's voice. "I even feel a bit sorry now that my problems are quite mundane and caused only by my lack of attention. And these difficulties can be resolved quite easily and quickly." He sighed. "True, such a quick solution will be financially costly, but, as one of the regular clients back on Earth used to say, 'If a problem can be solved with money, then it's not a problem but an expense.' So, I don't think that helping me with my issue could earn anyone any significant Achievement."
At that moment, the front door opened, and Oldon's head appeared in the doorway.
"Master," the young servant addressed the Japanese, "your armor is ready. As you requested, I rubbed it with fat during the day, then went over it with the mixture you gave me, and now I've confirmed that everything has dried."
"Good, I'll come now." Katashi nodded, getting up from the table.
"Will you show me your armor?" I asked, rising from my stool and following the host, not hiding my genuine curiosity.
"There's nothing unusual about it," shrugged Katashi, "earthly classic, in which I am somewhat confident."
"A do-maru?" I inquired.
"No." The Japanese responded sharply and even a bit angrily, but looking at me, he softened and explained, "The do-maru you saw was no good. A parade armor, not suited for battle. Practicing skills on the local materials. I was planning to throw it into the smelter after finishing with it, but a passing trader convinced me to sell it."
"Was it no good because of the external ties that hold the plates together?" I clarified as we left the house.
"That too, but..." Kay waved it off. "It's about the plates. They turned out to be quite uneven. To make such large plates that were the basis of that armor in proper quality, you need certain tools, technologies... This world doesn't have them."
"But there is magic," I nudged him in the right direction.
"That's true..." Kay responded thoughtfully and with a slight smile. "There is." Then his mood changed abruptly again, and he continued quite dryly, "Only it might take years to study this magic."
As we approached the forge, Oldon brought out armor wrapped in oiled cloth. Taking the bundle in his hands, Katashi laid it on the wooden deck and, unwrapping the cloths, closely examined it. While the Japanese was occupied with this, his young assistant stood like a statue, seemingly forgetting how to breathe.
"Alright," nodded Katashi, and immense relief was reflected on the young servant's face. "Gambeson?"
Before the Japanese could finish, Oldon pulled the requested underarmor from a basket at his feet.
Unlike my gambeson, which could serve as quite good protection even without armor worn over it, Katashi's underarmor was made in the traditional Japanese style. That is, it was pretty thin and served rather not to soften the part of the impact that reached the body but to prevent chafing from the armor and accidental light cuts. To me, it seemed utterly unsuitable for an infantry fighter, an attribute that, in real history, was used by samurai. That is, professional warriors who were rather mounted archers and for whom a heavy and dense underarmor was largely superfluous. Such a gambeson was, of course, much lighter and less restrictive of movement, but the protection it offered was lacking.
After fastening his gambeson, Katashi lifted his armor from the stand, unfolded it, and then... With a single fluid motion, Kay spun it in his hands, his body bending as smoothly as a python's, and like a seal in a circus act jumping through hoops, he slipped the armor onto his shoulders, where it fit his body like a second skin. A wide belt appeared in Oldon's hands, and Katashi immediately cinched it around his waist, then tightened four straps and nodded in satisfaction.
The entire process took the Japanese no more than a minute, and he required no assistance. From this, I immediately concluded that his creation was not a copy of Earth's medieval armor but had clearly been modified with a 21st-century understanding of ergonomics.
"Behter," the Japanese said, noticing my evaluative look.
Meaning a type of chainmail-plate armor. Behter, as this armor is called in the East, is better known in my homeland as a "bekhterets." Essentially, it is a mix of chainmail and plate armor, where small forged plates are applied to a chainmail base in an overlapping manner, like fish scales. This armor retains the main advantage of chainmail, which is almost unrestricted movement, but also covers vital parts of the body much better due to the additional metal layer. Moreover, the plates laid out like scales, partially overlapping one another, cover the fastenings with this overlap, making such armor much more durable and reliable than, say, a do-maru with its ties.
Local craftsmen can make something similar, but they charge about five times more than for ordinary chainmail. And this armor is clearly not a full copy of its medieval prototype but has been modified considering Katashi's rich Earthly experience, as otherwise, the Japanese would not have donned it so quickly and easily. Meaning, commissioning something similar would cost me even more.
Checking that everything was securely fastened, Kay jumped in place several times before slinging his shield on his back and again hanging the war hammer on his belt.
"Preparing for war?" I couldn't help asking, though I understood that such curiosity, expressed so openly, might not be appreciated by the Japanese.
Before answering, Katashi tightened his belt once more and then turned towards me:
"No." I thought that would be all he said, but contrary to my expectations, after a short pause, the blacksmith continued. "I am a peaceful person."
And indeed, he wasn't lying. If left alone and not provoked, as far as "future memory" suggested, he rarely started conflicts, and even then, it would require someone to insult his professional skills.
"Now, if I found out who broke into my house, I would have twisted his head off..." Katashi said with a bloodthirsty smirk, patting the handle of the war hammer hanging along his hip. "But that thief has long vanished, and it's not wise to waste time searching for him, not to mention it's highly unlikely I'd find him."
"Did they steal something valuable?"
Since he brought up the topic of theft, I figured showing such curiosity wouldn't be taken by the Japanese as an intrusion into his personal space. And judging by the fact that the expression in his eyes didn't change and didn't grow colder, my calculation was correct.
After Katashi's refusal to make armor, I could have just left, but I considered that every minute spent with the Japanese might help me, perhaps inadvertently, share some knowledge with him or nudge him in the right direction. So, dragging out the conversation was in my favor, and I wasn't in a hurry to leave.
"Just a couple of small moonstones," Katashi dismissed after a short pause. Apparently, he decided to answer me since he himself had brought up the topic of theft, and it would now be rude to remain silent. "My fault; I left them on the table at home and went to the forge."
"Moonstones? You mean the favorite gems of Dairin?" I clarified.
"Yes, they are highly revered as the favorite stone of the Day Sister, and we hold them in great esteem," Oldon interjected into our conversation. "After all, the Day Sister is considered the heavenly patron of Bordum and the surrounding area." He gestured broadly towards his village.
Despite the young blacksmith's assistant making a valid point, his intervention in our dialogue did not sit well with Katashi, who coldly sized up the servant from head to toe and sent him off to haul water from the well.
"As far as I know, moonstone is not a very expensive gem," I said, my voice laced with a hint of mild surprise as I watched Oldon walk away.
"Exactly, it's no emerald or ruby," Katashi's lips twisted into a wry smile. "But at this time... as the first day of autumn approaches, they've been bought up in all the local shops."
I think I realized why this was the case, but showing my awareness seemed unnecessary.
"And how is that related?"
"The first days of spring and autumn are considered days of Dairin, or the Day Sister, by the locals. And since the Goddess of Reflected Light is especially revered in these parts, a local tradition has developed..." It seemed Katashi himself regretted not holding back and starting this conversation about theft. But stopping his story here would have been very rude, so he continued, "On the first day of autumn, a large festival is held in the local Pantheon Temple, attended by all the girls who have reached the age of majority this year. Moreover, it is considered good form if a girl wears bracelets with moonstone at this festival, for according to legend, Dairin herself wore such ornaments."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Throughout this entire narrative, there was not a hint of a smirk or disdain in Katashi's voice. Unlike many earthlings, he had been quite respectful of local beliefs from the start.
"About a week ago, I made several bracelets for sale. Moreover, I did so by incorporating Earthly designs. A wealthy merchant saw them and took a liking to their unusual appearance. He ordered me to make bracelets for his daughter, who is to participate in a festival dedicated to the first day of autumn this year. He provided me with the resources for the work, including two small moonstones that were to be the centerpiece of the jewelry…"
"Was it that thief who robbed the entire village who stole them?" I asked, just to keep the conversation going, as it was clear enough, but the ensuing pause needed to be filled.
"Exactly," the Japanese nodded with barely concealed anger. "And, to make matters worse, there are no moonstones for sale in Bordum right now. They've all been bought up before the upcoming festival. And the price in neighboring cities for these gems skyrockets during the season." The sigh of regret that escaped from Katashi was genuinely authentic, as he knew how to count money despite his young age and understood its value.
"Perhaps the thief knew the local specifics; that's why he stole exactly the moonstones, knowing that at this time, these gems are valuable and would be easy to sell," I suggested.
"That might be the case. Or maybe it's because the silver was locked in a wrought-iron chest, and the moonstones were just lying on the table?" Katashi dismissed. "There's no point in thinking about it now. I need to solve the problem and complete the order on time to avoid damaging my reputation…" He then added much more quietly, "and not end up in deep financial trouble."
I could have offered to go and buy the necessary stones myself while he prepared the bracelet bases. However, such a proposal from someone barely acquainted might seem, to put it mildly, suspicious. After all, if Kay isn't exaggerating, acquiring moonstones in the neighboring cities will be difficult, requiring travel further away, meaning spending a considerable amount of time and resources. And for what purpose? To help a stranger, as it might seem from the outside? I would definitely be wary of such an offer. I think Katashi wouldn't want to become indebted to me and would decline. So, it makes no sense to even mention it.
Actually, the situation is turning out to be quite strange. If Kay is pressed for time, why has he donned armor instead of hurrying to one of the trade cities to negotiate and buy a couple of moonstones at a reasonable price? Is there no time even for that? But there are still a few days until the beginning of autumn, which is quite enough for someone standing on Wootz to travel to the trade cities and for work. However, if you think about it and take into account the certain "thriftiness" of the Japanese, the answer to these questions suggests itself.
"And what's the name of the dungeon you're heading to?" I smirked, deliberately infusing my tone with a hint of greed, enough for Kay to catch it. The Japanese twitched and looked at me a bit strangely, I would say, with a slight apprehension. "It's quite clear! Your gems, which are hard to purchase, were stolen. Considering that in the Rur area, there are quite a few not only ore dungeons but also gem ones, where precious and semi-precious minerals are mined, including the moonstones you need…"
I demonstratively eyed the armored Japanese and added:
"You didn't dress up like that for no reason, right? And you've even strapped such a weapon as a war hammer to your belt, which can substitute for a pickaxe if needed. It's also quite suitable for fighting various golems and other stone monsters. I don't believe in such coincidences."
I smiled coldly and calculatingly, perhaps even overdoing it a bit, so that Katashi would have no doubts about my further motivation.
"As you've probably guessed, I'm very interested in Achievements, and you're not wrong there. And dungeons of my rank, encountered along the way, I try not to miss." To lighten the mood, I shrugged and said with a slight smirk: "Besides, many of us do the same. From the fact that you've not only dressed in armor but are clearly prepared to head somewhere, I make an unequivocal conclusion… You're planning to obtain the moonstones you need in a dungeon. And not just planning, but you also know where it can be done. And, judging by your preparations, this dungeon is opening quite soon." Our gazes crossed like steel blades, and after a short pause, I added, "Knowing the habits of the locals, it's most likely at dawn, dusk, or midnight. You wouldn't have made it by dusk. Dawn is still far off, and since you've donned your armor here, rather than taking it with you in a backpack, dawn time also likely falls away. So, the dungeon opens at midnight, and it's located quite close, at most a few hours' walk from here."
Despite the fact that, like many Japanese raised in the classical Eastern tradition, Katashi was able to control his face, I managed to break through his feigned imperturbability. The blacksmith clearly lost his composure and didn't know how to react to my words.
"I suggest we go to the dungeon together." My open smile and arms spread wide showed my sincerity. "You've seen me in battle and know that I won't be a burden." Before he could say anything, I hastily added, "If you've made arrangements with the local tunnellers to go alone, and showing up with someone might be seen as a breach of contract, don't worry. I have ways to convince the locals to take me on the expedition without any additional conditions."
"Um..." Unable to withstand such pressure, the Japanese took a step back, looked away, and quietly said, "You're almost right in everything. Yes, I'm planning to go to a dungeon, which, among other things, yields moonstones. You're not wrong about that. And it's true that the dungeon is not very far and resets at midnight. But you're mistaken about one thing." He looked up at the sky. "I have no agreements with the locals..."
"So, you're planning to just approach the dungeon at the time of its reset and ask to join a group, without being a member of the Tunnellers' Guild?"
"Yes, what about it?"
He still lacks an understanding of local realities, experience, and knowledge of Ain's customs. If he really shows up at the dungeon entrance with a "Can I join you?" proposal, especially considering he's not a member of the Tunnellers' Guild, I can predict the locals' response with about ninety-nine percent accuracy. They'll just send him away, and they'll be completely within their rights to do so.
"I'll even pay them the equivalent of two moonstones on regular days and help with the clearing. Wouldn't that be a profitable offer for the tunnellers? They get money and an extra hand."
To take an unknown person into a dungeon clearing group, even for a fee, and without any prior agreement – does he really think this is a "profitable offer"? No, given that he is a Shard, perhaps this unabashed boldness of his, or so it appears from the locals' perspective, might just work. But even with all the luck Shards have, the chances of a successful outcome for Katashi's venture seem quite slim to me.
"My advice," I sighed heavily, not at all feigned. "You'd better head to the nearest trading city right now rather than wasting time on what you've planned. Because you'll just lose time traveling to the dungeon and back. Think about it... Even on Earth, ordinary miners wouldn't take a stranger into a mine shaft. Or metallurgists would never let someone they don't trust near a blast furnace. Would you let a stranger into your forge, let alone to swing a hammer?" This argument clearly hit its mark, and doubt flickered in the Japanese's eyes. "Here, the situation is even more complicated, as monsters at Wootz do not forgive mistakes." I eyed the smith up and down and continued. "If you were a member of the Tunnellers' Guild, it would be a different matter. Even so, showing up directly at the dungeon entrance is considered bad form. But a local group might still help their fellow guild members. In your case, they'll refuse you, no question. I'm a member of the Tunnellers' Guild and have read the Guild Regulations, so my answer is not just someone's passing opinion. I know what I'm talking about."
"I'm still not very familiar with local traditions..." Kay drawled, still doubting.
"Then listen to someone who understands them," I said calmly, but my following words sounded different, more apathetic. "However, you have your own head on your shoulders, and everyone is free to learn the hard way."
My words hit their mark, which was evident as the Japanese sat down on the forge's porch and propped his chin with his hand, sinking into deep thought.
"Ahem..." I cleared my throat to pull him from his gloomy thoughts and asked, "Can you tell me exactly where that dungeon you were planning to go to is located?"
"Huh? But you just said that showing up directly at the Entrance, especially without prior arrangements, is not the done thing here!"
"I have my ways to convince the locals to take me on a dungeon clearance." I spread my arms as if it's not my fault but the situation that has led to this. "And a dungeon expedition is at least one full Wootz Achievement, and to miss the chance to earn it..." I trailed off, the implication clear.
"So, you have your ways..." Katashi got up from the porch, a thin smile on his face.
"Firstly, I am a member of the Tunnellers' Guild. And secondly," my hand reached for the Guild's Sign, but I stopped myself in time and added, "I have certain secrets."
"And you're sure that the local group won't refuse and will definitely take you to the dungeon?"
"Absolutely." And again, I wasn't lying because none of the tunnellers would refuse the Sheriff of the Book such a trifle.
"How about a barter?" With these words, the Japanese stepped forward.
I had to bite my cheek to keep from smiling, as these or similar words were exactly what I was waiting for, leading Katashi to a certain conclusion, and it seemed I'd achieved my goal.
"What kind?" As if in deep doubt, I stepped back, maintaining the original distance between us.
"I'll help you with the armor. If not myself, then I'll tell you what the locals can and cannot do, and even who exactly can be commissioned for a particular piece."
"That interests me. But what in return? Bring you moonstones?"
"No!" The Japanese's response was sharp and categorical. "I am to blame for the loss of the gems and must retrieve them myself." He faltered a bit, then explained. "Don't worry about it, as you Europeans say, it's my own... quirks."
"Then what do you want?"
"We'll go to the dungeon together, and you'll try to negotiate with the local tunnellers to take not just you, but me as well!" Katashi's voice carried genuine tension; he didn't know that this was precisely the idea I was trying to lead him to.
"And if I can't manage it?" I asked, just in case.
"The journey to the Garnet Grotto will take about four hours, so I'll have enough time to tell you everything you want to know." How desperate he was became apparent when he was the first to extend his hand for a handshake.
"Alright. Agreed." The Japanese's handshake was firm, just as I "remembered."
"Your spear is very interesting..." As soon as we shook hands, Katashi relaxed a bit, and even the smile on his face seemed genuinely sincere at that moment. "If you don't mind, I'd like to examine it, but a bit later."
"Look all you want, just don't break it." I returned his open smile.
"Not now," the blacksmith shook his head. "Even from here, I can see it's a fine weapon, yet it's poorly suited for fighting stone monsters. Too light."
"You're right, but I'll manage," I reassured the Japanese.
"Wait a minute, I have a blank here..."
Without letting me get a word in, Katashi turned sharply on the spot and disappeared into the forge. Knowing his character, I suppressed the initial desire to follow him and stay put. For a while, noise and the clatter of falling objects emanated from the forge, after which a satisfied Japanese appeared at the threshold and handed me what he found. It looked almost like a plain crowbar, only two meters long and with a square cross-section, about four centimeters on each side. One of the ends of this oversized crowbar narrowed, forming a very blunt, but still a sort of tip. Holding it in my hand, I realized it weighed about fifteen kilograms!
"You're a spearsman, right?" Katashi clarified and, seeing my nod, continued. "Well, isn't this a spear! Yes, it's heavy, of course, but you said yourself that for a Wootz warrior, the weight of the weapon and armor isn't so important! And against stone monsters, it is probably hard to find a better tool!"
My first desire was to take this crowbar and... But I restrained this quite natural impulse, and instead of violence, I accepted the "new spear," placing it on my shoulder.
"Thank you, it might even be useful." My voice was full of sincere gratitude, so sugary that only a youth who grew up in the remote countryside, which Katashi was, could miss the sarcasm.
"Not at all," the Japanese replied very seriously. "It would be a real sacrilege to damage such a wonderful weapon as your spear against the stone monsters of the Garnet Grotto."
Ah, that's what it's about, so it wasn't a tease on his part, but a genuinely sincere gesture? Despite having the "memory of the future" at my disposal, I still found it hard to get used to the way of thinking of the future God of Labor.
As soon as I remembered who exactly was standing next to me, one very unpleasant yet perfectly reasonable thought made me wince. Indeed, no Shard's luck would have helped Katashi get into the dungeon if he had shown up at the Entrance without warning, as he wanted. Too many coincidences would have had to align for the local tunnellers' group to take a stranger with them on a clearing. But, despite the initially doomed plan, Katashi will still get into the dungeon he aims for. And I am one hundred percent sure he will find the moonstones he is looking for there. All because fate found someone to lead him into the dungeon, convincing the locals to take him along.
For some reason, there was an unpleasant prickling in the feeling that I was just one of the links in the chain of luck that must come together for the Shard to get what he wanted. Without my timely appearance, his plan was doomed to fail. And it was my visit that changed everything.
So, who was playing whom? Me, leading Katashi to the decision I needed? Or was the Shard's luck playing with me, like with a little blind kitten that thinks too highly of itself?