A half-hour meditation cleared my thoughts. During this time, Katashi finished reforging and adding another plate to the pauldrons. While the Japanese was busy assembling them, I stood up and approached the windowsill.

I almost weightlessly touched the blade lying in the light with the tips of my fingers. Then "listened in" and felt the metal respond. I "saw" that this blade was made of thousands of layers forged together, with a core of softer steel that allowed it to bend without breaking. I also understood why the unusual one-and-a-half edge sharpening appeared on this clearly Japanese-style blade. The master who created this blade had made a mistake in the quenching. The core at the tip had become too hard and, therefore, more brittle. So the smith decided to "correct" it. He partially reforged the tip and welded another blade onto it, which became the segment of the one-and-a-half edge sharpening.

"Quenching mistake..." I said, not believing that I could now understand such nuances of blacksmithing.

"How was I supposed to know that the local oil has different thermal conductivity than the ones I'm used to!" Katashi suddenly reacted vehemently to my words. "And besides, don't touch anything here!"

"I just..." But realizing that excuses were unnecessary, I simply took a step back. "An unusual blade. Yes, there was a mistake, but the one-and-a-half edge sharpening on a tanto - that's, I would say, a fresh perspective. I can already see the possible uses for this weapon. A reverse cut on withdrawal. A slice of the opponent's wrist with a simple turn of the hand. Or, for example..."

"Leave it alone!" the Japanese raised his voice. "I should have melted down this... piece long ago."

"So why hadn't you?" I asked innocently.

"Just hadn't had the time." The earthling waved me off.

"Sure. But, honestly?"

"Raven, you're not going to let it go, are you?" Katashi asked with resignation in his voice.

"Well, you know me."

"I really was going to melt it down, and I would definitely get to it. A little later, but I would."

"Yeah, I got it, I got it. It's just that this is the only thing in your forge that looked like a weapon. That's what surprised me."

"An example of a mistake," the Japanese shook his head. "It was useful to keep it in sight." Apparently, I wouldn't understand this man's motivation. "It reminds me of how little I know about this new world, all the surrounding magic, and other nuances."

"Now I got it."

"And anyway, this was the first thing I forged in this world."

"Huh? The first sword?"

"No, the very first thing. I got a job as an assistant to a blacksmith, and in my free time, I forged this blade. And I messed up right away." The Japanese grimaced as if he were having a tooth pulled without anesthesia.

"So you're saying," I kept a close eye on the blade, "this was the first thing you forged on Ain?"

"Are you deaf? Didn't I just tell you that?"

"Listen..." My throat went dry. "How about you didn't melt it down and gave it to me instead?"

"What?"

"Like, as a souvenir."

"Why would you want it?"

"Just because... Come on, gift it to me, what would it cost you?"

"No."

"Then sell it to me."

"Sell a flawed piece? Who do you take me for?"

Now he seemed angry, standing with his arms crossed and his chin tilted up towards the ceiling.

"Let's say I'm collecting rare items," starting right at this moment, honestly! "You were going to melt it down anyway."

"No."

Opening one of the hidden pockets on my belt, I took out two almost weightless coins and placed them on the anvil.

"You…" Katashi didn't finish; he lifted one of the coins, and his face changed. "What is this?"

"Mithril. Pure." I said, smiling innocently, just as the serpent in the Garden of Eden might have.

"Have you lost your mind?" The Japanese's face showed a carefully concealed confusion. "That's two hundred in gold, and this blade isn't worth even twenty silver!"

"So, do we have a deal?"

"Take it! As my father used to say: 'Son, never argue with madmen!'"

"Then it's a deal."

"Are you sure you haven't overheated?" Katashi quietly asked.

"I'm fine, I just can afford to buy what I like."

"Ahem-m-m." The Japanese choked on my directness, but he put away the mithril coins and shook my hand, confirming the deal.

I thought if I had offered him regular gold, even more in value, he would have refused. Katashi's pride wouldn't have allowed him to agree, as he considered this blade his failure. But he simply couldn't resist mithril. As the saying goes, an unstoppable force met an immovable object. Pride clashed with professional curiosity and, tail between its legs, retreated. Maybe I just threw away two hundred to the wind. Maybe so. Or perhaps I acquired something that no amount of money could buy. Of course, this was just a guess, but even for that, I was ready to pay much more!

Imagine, the first blade forged by the future god of Labor in a new world. It could be a dud, or it could be something comparable to ancient artifacts from the times before the Fall. Not now, but when Katashi would ascend the First Flight of Divino... And as a tip for my future spear, this unusual tanto with a one-and-a-half edge sharpening would be perfect.

Wait, stop. For now, these were just assumptions and dreams, for which I had paid two hundred gold. But the dreams were worth it, even if they were only illusions and assumptions. Moreover, I had come up with an idea of how to test them. Not at the moment; a little later. Besides, even if I was wrong, and this blade remained a defective piece of iron, by giving Katashi mithril, I had certainly sped up his professional development. So, in any case, as they say, I was in the black. I had been going to give him those coins anyway, and now I had a reason. With these thoughts, I wrapped the blade in cloth and tucked it behind my belt. Lately, I had been trusting my backpack less and less.

"You're annoying," Katashi said gruffly, carefully watching my actions. "Wait in the house. I'll finish the work here alone; you'll only get in the way."

"As you say."

"Go, go, don't distract me!"

As I closed the door to the forge behind me, I heard a quiet muttering on an exhale:

"He can afford it, he says… Pf-f-f…"

I considered it unnecessary to go back and explain my motives to the Japanese, so I let him think what he wanted. Instead, I headed to a young willow growing by the stream, and using my old gambeson as a pillow, I simply lay down to sleep in the shade of the tree.

Of course, I wasn't given a chance to sleep properly. Not even half an hour had passed since I closed my eyes when Oldon woke me up with a delicate cough.

"Master has finished the work," said the young assistant, "and he's asking you to come for a fitting."

"All right, I'll wash up and come," I replied, getting to my feet and heading to the stream.

After rinsing off and shaking off the drowsiness, I returned to the forge. Katashi was already waiting at the doorstep. We tried on the corrected version of the pauldrons, and even though they seemed perfect to me, the Japanese was still dissatisfied with something. He stripped the armor off me and disappeared into the workshop again, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

Having drunk an entire pitcher of fruit drink thoughtfully brought by Oldon, I tried to fall asleep again. But just as the waves of dreams began to carry me away, I heard a demanding cough once more. I had to trudge back to the forge and try on the armor set again. I barely had time to open my mouth and say that everything fit when Katashi, tapping his fist in the area of my shoulder blades, demanded that I remove the armor, explaining that he didn't like how the plates overlapped on the back.

After the fourth such fitting, I remembered why I chose to leave his guild in the Last Cycle. When Katashi would dig in his heels, it was pointless to argue with him when it came to work. In the end, the corrections and minor adjustments stretched on until sunset. The evening sun had just touched the horizon's edge when the Japanese finally became satisfied with the work done.

After once again inspecting the armor on me, I clicked my tongue. At first glance, I received even more than I had expected.

Katashi's idea of combining the armor parts into a cohesive whole was, in its own way, ingenious. Take, for example, the arm protection. The forged pauldrons reliably covered not only the shoulder joint but also, due to their distinctive shape, shielded the neck from horizontal strikes or a blade that slipped along the steel. These same pauldrons smoothly transitioned into plate elements that covered the outer part of the bicep, ending five centimeters from the elbow. As for the armpits and the inner part of the arm, the layer of chainmail attached directly to the gambeson securely covered this vulnerable area. Or take the hood with chainmail inserts around the neck. Initially, I was somewhat skeptical about this innovation, but after another fitting, I agreed with Katashi that it was a very good idea. And putting on the helmet became much easier as well; there was no need to first dig into the backpack for the arming cap, it was enough to simply throw on the hood, tighten one strap, and immediately after that, put on the helmet. An excellent time-saver in case of a sudden attack.

The only relatively contentious element was the plate-mail skirt. The Japanese was firm about making it longer, almost reaching the knee. His arguments were undoubtedly sound, but I insisted on a shorter version, covering just over a third of the thigh. The reason for this decision was that the longer version did not suit my fighting style. Unlike it, the shortened one did not interfere with performing flips or other acrobatic maneuvers.

During the final check, I walked on my hands, jumped, and did flips both forward and backward, and I was extremely satisfied. Yes, due to the significant thickness of the plates, the armor could not be called light; the total weight of all the layers and parts was close to twenty kilograms. But, thanks to my rank and the Adamantium Body Achievement, I could afford such weight with almost no loss in mobility and without getting overly tired.

When I, having completed another flip, finally stopped, Katashi asked me to remove the armor and then began teaching me how to put it on properly and which straps were responsible for what. The Japanese had made an effort to ensure the armor could be easily donned without any outside help. After I had put it on by myself for the third time, he disassembled it, or rather, detached the outer plate armor from the gambeson and explained step by step how the fastenings worked. But he didn't stop there and spent almost an hour teaching me how to repair the armor in field conditions. How to replace plates, how to substitute chopped steel wire, and what to do if any particular strap broke. Listening and watching the earthling's hands, I was once again amazed at how thoroughly he had thought everything through. The Japanese not only focused on the armor's protective properties but also ensured its repairability. He didn't forget about spare parts either. My backpack was filled with about a kilogram of armored plates, two meters of tightly coiled steel wire, and half a square meter of woven chainmail "fabric." Of course, the spare plates were forged from regular steel, without any avalonium additives, and they did not have Strengthening Runes, but I could handle the latter myself, even in the field.

"Are we going to test it?" I asked, placing all the spare parts at the bottom of my backpack.

"No need." The Japanese shrugged, then explained, "Prior to beginning the work, I tested the shape and thickness of the plates, eventually settling on the final version. I can assure you, your armor can't be pierced by a sword, spear, or, even more so, a saber. Thanks to the thick gambeson with dense leather inserts, the armor also holds up excellently against crushing blows. The only weapon that managed to pierce the plates was my war hammer, and even then, the tip was stopped by the gambeson. Of course, I'm talking about regular steel or wootz weapons," the Japanese quickly added. "I don't know how the armor will fare against magical, artifact, or, for example, reardane or mithril weapons. And yes, when I said the armor couldn't be pierced by regular weapons, that's also questionable, because I can't imagine what would happen if you were struck, even with an ordinary blade, by a warrior of the Heroic Coil."

"I can easily imagine the latter," I commented with a grimace. "Even if the armor withstood such a blow, my bones and internal organs definitely wouldn't survive that kind of abuse."

"Alright, now let's check how well you remember what to do when replacing damaged plates..."

After passing this peculiar exam, I donned the armor again, this time without Katashi's help. The Japanese circled around me and said:

"Still, I would change the shape of the greaves. And lengthen the plate skirt."

"I'm satisfied with the shape of the greaves," I smiled. "Yes, it's somewhat archaic and resembles the protection of Greek hoplites, but that's exactly what I needed. As for the skirt, we've already discussed it three times."

"And yet..." Katashi drawled.

"I'm satisfied with everything." I firmly responded, putting an end to further arguments on the matter.

"I still can't get used to the fact that the armor doesn't protect the elbows, knees, and palms," the Japanese shook his head.

"It's the specifics of this world." I spread my hands. "Metal covering those areas disrupts the flow of mana and prana, interfering with the use of magic."

"I know that." Katashi snapped. "But I still can't get used to it." Then he clapped his hands softly and said, "So, the work is accepted?"

"Of course."

"In that case, that'll be seventy-four gold for the materials and payment for the parts ordered from other craftsmen."

In response, I tossed him a pre-prepared purse with a hundred gold.

"There's more here than needed." Katashi grimaced.

"You did more than I expected too. It seems fair to me."

"Alright," the future god of Labor didn't argue, tucking the purse into his belt. "Will you stay the night, or head out immediately? You did say you were in a hurry."

"If it's no bother, I'll stay the night," I still needed to visit the Artifactors' Guild, which would only open in the morning.

"Excellent!" Katashi genuinely rejoiced. "Then let's go to the house, I'll show you my project for new armor. Your words about cuirasses gave me a couple of interesting ideas. It would be great to hear the opinion of an experienced fighter."

The earthling's project did turn out to be quite interesting.

"Look," Katashi explained enthusiastically, waving his hand over the drawing, "we take a half-breastplate as a base, covering the chest and body down to the solar plexus with a solid, reliable plate. This will allow us to create a proper mount for a full gorget. And below the half-breastplate, we add plate armor, similar to what I made for you. This combination will provide better mobility in the waist area..."

"Your arguments are clear, but I would still prefer a full cuirass," I countered.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"But why?" The Japanese was genuinely surprised. "You were the one convincing me of the importance of mobility and flexibility."

"That's true, but there's one detail that changes everything."

"And what is that?"

"The center of gravity."

"Explain."

"Look, both my new armor and the project you proposed share the same characteristic - the entire weight rests on the shoulders."

"On the shoulders and back, thanks to thoughtful weight distribution, as well as a system of straps and fastenings," the earthling agreed with me.

"But a cuirass," I stood up from the table and placed my hands on my lower back, "rests its weight on the hip bone, on the thighs, which significantly reduces the pressure on the shoulder girdle and back. Moreover, the body's center of mass gets significantly lowered, compared to, say, plate armor."

"But doesn't that reduce the mobility of the lower back?"

His objections made it clear to me that on Earth, he had never trained in full cuirasses. Therefore, he had no real experience using them.

"It does," I nodded, "but it's a fair price to pay for the advantages I've described. In fact, it's more like trading one inconvenience for another, but the far superior protective qualities of a solid steel plate, especially if you come up with the right shape and rational angles, outweigh everything."

"I'll think about it." Clearly not very pleased with what he had heard, Katashi put away the drawings and notes.

"By the way, are you interested in local artifacts?" I changed the subject.

"I am. But who would even let me hold them? I'm a nobody here, just another 'young upstart who thinks too highly of himself,'" his last words were clearly a quote from someone else. "But why did you ask?"

"I have a damaged artifact from before the Fall..."

"Show me!"

"Hold on! It's not that simple; it's an artifact of the Night Huntresses, a forbidden sect of Seguna's followers."

"So what?"

"So, if someone reports that we're examining it here, we could end up burning at the stake."

"Yet you're not afraid to carry it around, even if it could get you burned at the stake?" Katashi responded to my warning with a question, showing no fear of the risks I had outlined.

"Why would I be?" I shrugged innocently. "I'm the Sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild. If anyone sees it, I'll say I'm taking it to be stored in a safe place."

"And that safe place is your personal safe in the Artifactors' Guild?" The Japanese stretched his lips into a smile.

"Well, if you don't tell them the whole truth, then..."

"I never doubted you for a second," Katashi laughed. "Show me!"

"It's broken."

"Are you deliberately teasing me?"

"No, I'm just giving you a heads-up."

Bending down to the backpack, I took out the bundle and placed the bracelet made of blued steel on the table. For about two minutes, the Japanese just stared at it, then walked around the table and asked:

"May I touch it?"

"Yes."

Katashi tried everything imaginable with the bracelet. He twisted it in his hands, sniffed it, waved his palm over it with his eyes closed, and even licked and bit it.

"If you hadn't told me this was an artifact, I would have never guessed." Half an hour later, the Japanese gave up and placed the bracelet back on the table.

"It is an artifact, for sure."

Too bad - I thought the future god of Labor might be able to say something, but apparently, it wasn't meant to be. I was already reaching out to put the bracelet back in the backpack when Katashi froze for a couple of seconds, gestured for me to stop, and asked:

"Seguna - is she the goddess of the night moon?"

"That's right."

The earthling's gaze darted to the window, and then he jumped up, extinguished the oil lamp, grabbed the bracelet, and, throwing open the shutters, exposed the artifact to the moonlight. He scrutinized it for about three minutes, then crawled under the bed, rummaged there for a long time, and emerged with a crumpled piece of paper. With a snap of Katashi's fingers, the oil lamps lit up again. The Japanese sat at the table, unfolded the paper he had found, and placed it next to the bracelet.

"So, I wasn't seeing things," he said.

"Seeing what?" I didn't catch on.

"Look." Kay pointed at the paper, which depicted a drawing of some sort of women's jewelry. "This is the design for a bracelet that the merchant commissioned me to make for his daughter."

"And? They're completely different. The drawing shows a delicate piece of women's jewelry, while the bracelet of the Night Huntresses is clearly meant for combat use - essentially, it's a full-fledged bracer."

"You're looking at the wrong thing." The Japanese waved me off. "Look at the drawing."

"They still don't look similar."

"Yes, they're not identical, but... When I received the order, I went to the Temple of All Gods and carefully examined the statue of Dairin. On the hands of the Goddess of Morning Dawn, there are two bracelets, but they aren't fully visible - each of them is two-thirds covered by the sleeves of a loose garment."

"And?"

"And what? You look but don't see! "Here, the design and the pattern on the Huntresses' bracelet and the drawing are identical. The differences begin where the bracelets on the statue are hidden by the sleeves. It seems the design on the jewelry piece I was ordered to make was imagined by people, while the bracelet you brought is the original."

Now that he had explained, I could see the resemblance.

"One thing is unclear: why such a similarity in the design? Is it because Dairin and Seguna are sisters?" Kay wondered.

His question sparked another flash of memories in me.

"According to ancient legends," I said, "on the occasion of her sister's wedding to Obeorn, Dairin gifted Seguna one of her bracelets."

"Which legends?" the Japanese raised his eyes. "I've read all the fragments in Dairin's scripture concerning the bracelets of the Goddess of Morning Dew, and there's no mention of this."

"This isn't from the Texts of the Morning Dawn, but from the legends of the Night Mistress."

"And where did you hear them?" Katashi asked, feigning innocence.

"I have not only this..." The symbol of Affinity with Light ignited above my right palm. "But also this..." The Sign of Affinity with Shadow came to life above my left hand.

"Talented in one thing, talented in many..." Katashi shook his head.

What? Did he say that to me? The future god of Labor actually said that? I didn't mishear? In the entire Last Cycle, only Dice had received such praise from him, and no one else.

"And if that's the case, then what you've said is true."

The Japanese abruptly untied his purse and took out the two moonstones that I had returned to him. Then, as if guided by some instinct, he inserted the stones into the empty slots of the bracelet. His fingers became enveloped in metallic fire, followed by a quiet, dry click as the stones found their places. Exactly so - "their places." I almost sensed the rightness of Katashi's actions.

"Just as I thought!" the Japanese exclaimed, rubbing his hands together... "But the artifact still doesn't work. It's fine; all my experience as a blacksmith tells me I did everything correctly. But it doesn't work."

"But do you understand how it's supposed to work?" I asked, holding my breath.

"Nope." Katashi shook his head. "Not a single clue. However, I'm sure this bracelet wasn't made for a man's hand."

"Yes, according to the legends, such bracelets could only be worn by women who possessed Affinity with Shadow."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" The flame of a naturalist sparked in the Japanese's eyes.

"Alas..."

"That's unfortunate," the earthling said with regret. "I would have liked to observe this thing in action. But, apparently, it's not meant to be."

"How much do I owe for the repair?" I smiled, reaching out to take the bracelet.

"Pay for the stones, and we're even," the Japanese waved it off.

That night, we never went to sleep. We chatted until dawn. I told him about the path I had traveled, omitting some of the more controversial details. I also shared the thoughts of the abbot of the Temple of Ishid regarding the Runes. And I didn't forget to mention my encounters with other earthlings, as well as the legend I "came up with" about the appearance of the Sortudo on the continent. Particularly, I focused on how Arien was developing the Ainuminati. These details could have been useful to Katashi if he, like in the Last Cycle, ended up establishing his own Guild.

In turn, the Japanese brought out all his notes, and we argued ourselves hoarse about armor and weapons, about the balance and shape of blades, about the advantages of the spear over the sword and vice versa, about the usefulness of war hammers and heavy axes. We even had a quarrel but quickly made up. Then Kay told me about some of his experiments. For example, he tried to analyze fragments of that spear-crowbar, on which, according to him, residual emanations of an otherworldly entity were observed, the entity that nearly made me an avatar of one of the Aspects of Death. Unfortunately, all of Kay's experiments on this material had so far yielded no results, and he buried it in the forest under a notable tree. As for the jade "hearts" of the large trolls we obtained in the same dungeon, the earthling ended up selling them to the Artifactors' Guild.

The future god of Labor also shared his plans with me. Due to the fact that the local community of craftsmen did not accept him into their ranks, considering him too young, Katashi decided that after making himself armor similar to mine, he would head to Pentapolis. The earthling hadn't forgotten my stories about the Forges of the Underground folk and was fired up with the idea of getting a job as an apprentice in one of these forges to learn the secrets of local blacksmithing traditions from the best craftsmen in all of Ain.

We had already started saying our goodbyes when I remembered an important detail.

"Oh! Damn! I almost forgot, I have a gift for you!" I exclaimed. "I carried it all this way just for you, and it almost slipped my mind."

"A gift?" Katashi asked with poorly concealed interest.

"Only it's unusual; you'll have to melt it down when you're done 'playing' with it."

"I'm already getting a bad feeling about this," the Japanese grimaced. "I think, such a gift you should keep for yourself."

"You'll like it," I brushed off his words and pulled out the People's Bane from the bundle tied to my backpack, placing it on the table.

"A sword," Katashi drawled, hesitating to touch the blade. "And?"

"It was forged by a dwarf," I explained, watching the earthling's expression change.

For about ten minutes, the Japanese meticulously examined the blade, occasionally stopping to rub the back of his head.

"I wonder what it was tempered with… Unusual layering… Diagonal sharpening…" he muttered, paying no attention to me.

Finally, after setting the sword aside, he looked up:

"It looks like an ordinary sword. Made in an unusual style, of course. And the steel - is it really blue, or is it just the lighting playing tricks? Runes on the blade? No, not quite, they look similar, but they're different... Not an artifact, I don't feel any magic in it. But at the same time, I sense a strange anger emanating from this blade."

"They say that dwarves put part of their soul into what they make. And in this sword, its creator put his hatred for humans. Wounds inflicted by this blade heal much more slowly; I can confirm that from personal experience."

"It really is an interesting thing, but why do I need to melt it down?" Katashi asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"The thing is, this sword is quite well-known in certain circles. And if someone sees it, you'll have to answer some rather unpleasant questions."

"You didn't steal it, did you?"

"No, it's a trophy."

"A trophy..." the future god of Labor drawled. "And who had to die for it?"

"A certain Ridan the Honest Sword, multiple-time Deytran Arena champion of the Metal Coil. A well-known figure among duel enthusiasts."

"Oh, wow. I mean, I did see for myself that you're a very good warrior, but I didn't suspect you were this good," Katashi remarked with a smirk, keeping a keen eye on me.

"He attacked, I defended myself," I replied with a shrug, omitting the fact that it was actually Scully who killed Ridan.

"Thank you," the Japanese said, nodding to his thoughts as he placed the sword in a chest. "I'm really interested in studying the work of a representative of the undermountain people."

"I knew you'd like it," I smirked, rising from the table.

"Raven, answer me one question."

"What is it?" I tensed.

"Why are you helping me? First with the stones, then with other things. This sword, and those mithril coins, you didn't just pay with them for no reason." Sharp as ever.

"It's simple. The better your craftsmanship, the better my armor will be, and possibly my weapons too," I said, speaking the plain truth or, more precisely, a small part of it.

"There are masters in this world far better than I am."

'Well, first of all, that's temporary; soon you'll surpass them' - naturally, I didn't voice this thought aloud.

"And for their work, those masters charge much, much more," I smiled with my most mercantile grin.

"Is that the only reason?"

"The second reason is that I don't believe we were brought into this world just to live carefree lives," I replied, my smile fading. "And these questers... I'm sure they have plenty more dirty tricks in store." I wasn't saying anything new; such thoughts were quite common among earthlings, both in the Last Cycle and in this one.

"Questers," Katashi nearly hissed with barely concealed irritation. "We're like toys in their hands."

"I haven't met a single one of us who likes them." I shrugged. "As for helping you, I'm not just helping you alone. I did tell you about Vidar's group, Arien's guild, my team, and other earthlings I've encountered."

"Yes."

"Consider it my philosophy. If you can lend a helping hand, then do it and help," and then I added, "but don't let anyone ride on your back."

"You're being cagey," Katashi said, looking me straight in the eyes.

"I'm not telling everything." There was no need to lie now. "I'm not a good Samaritan, nor an altruist. It just seems to me that in this world, one can't survive alone."

"Then why don't you join Ainuminati or Vidar's group?" he asked the obvious question that followed from what I had said.

"I have my own Road." I shrugged.

"A samurai has no goal, only the Path," the Japanese smirked. "You're quite the philosopher."

"A pragmatist," I corrected him.

"So maybe you'll stay, help me with the armor? You do have some skills for working in a forge."

"Don't try to ride on my back." I grinned broadly, baring my teeth at the suggestion.

"Ha!" For some reason, my refusal made him happy. "I get it." What exactly he got - remained a mystery to me.

We talked for a few more minutes while Oldon packed me some food for the road. After that, we said goodbye, shaking each other's hands firmly...