I excused my slip up by saying ‘Jack’ was a nickname, but she didn’t appear convinced. She was on to me and wouldn’t let off. What did it matter to her anyway? Why was she so curious about me and my class?

I left the shop and she didn’t follow me. It turned out that she worked at the alchemy shop as an assistant. I had found healing potions, but they were listed in gold coins, and not silver – too rich for my blood.

Next stop was the blacksmith, a few blocks down. The place was situated on a corner of a block. I could hear the hammers clanging well before I could make out the shape of an anvil on the shop sign.

The door into the smithy was wide open. I walked up to the threshold and felt warm air stream out with a smell of hot steel, of earth and fire hammered together. Inside, the forge was roaring with bellows pumping air into the fire. The blacksmiths worked, the anvils rung with each blow, sparks flew.

I didn’t make it two steps before someone addressed me. A stout woman built like a barrel looked up from her work. She screamed of muscle and metal, and could have been mistaken for a man – in a good way.

“What do ya want Percy?” she said in a tone that didn’t hide disgust.

I was taken aback by her reaction, but decided to ask anyway. “I’m looking for iron ore.”

She scoffed, wiped sweat off her brow that left soot marks streaking across her forehead. “Who do ya think yer foolin? Never mind smeltin’. Ya ain’t got the arms for it. Nor the back.” She chuckled. “Ya can’t even hammer a straight nail.”

I took out a nail from my pocket, and walked up to her. “This look straight enough for you?”

She blinked, but took the nail from me and rolled it between her fingers. “You didn’t make this. Only a master would waste their time making a nail of such quality.” She tossed it back to me, glanced at my left arm and the hook. “Who’d ya steal it from?”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh ya? So who made it then? Eh?”

“Why? Are you interested in buying some?”

“No, why would I buy something I can make myself?”

The conversation wasn’t going anywhere. “Iron ore. Do you know where to find some?”

“Course I know. What sort of a smith would I be otherwise? And ya should know too. Did ya forget?”

“Remind me.”

She laughed. “How ‘bout ya show me how you made that nail, here and now, and not only will I tell you where to get the ore, hell, I’ll give ya a whole crate worth.” She pointed her hammer to a storage area.

In the smithy, the hammers went silent as her three workers looked on, waiting for my answer. I wasn’t going to tell them. [Iron Domain] wasn’t common by the looks of things. These smiths worked metal the old fashioned way – with fire and hammers. What this group could make in a day, I could do in an hour. Revealing my ability to shape iron would be dangerous. I knew people. Knew their greed and envy. They might try something, to kill or enslave me.

“Maybe another time,” I said.

“Ya, I thought so. Ya ain’t nothin’ but a freeloading twit of a knob, ya know that Percy? I feel sorry for yer sister.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that. Her feelings about Percy were the same as mine, and eloquently put. Gritting my teeth, I turned around and left the smithy.

It started raining as soon as I stepped outside. I cursed and hurried home. Despite how things have gone, I tried to look on the positive side of things. Sure, my face and ribs hurt, but the outing wasn’t a complete failure. I learned about places where I wasn’t welcome and who to avoid – which apparently with Percy, was everywhere and everyone. If this was a video game, then it felt like I was playing on the ‘Hard’ mode.

I got back home, soaked and freezing. I dumped the last of the firewood into the hearth to get some heat going. Firewood was yet another thing that I needed beside food, clothing and iron. I hung up my cloak and shirt by the hearth to dry. Moved in close to warm myself up.

I had an experiment in mind. I took the clumps of iron that I had found and laid them out before me. I was used to working with steel, and not iron. Pure and wrought iron was crap. Better than wood, stone or bronze, but too soft compared to good ole steel. Unfortunately, this world ran mostly on iron, which made sense – it hasn’t hit the industrial age just yet.

Using [Shape Iron] I pulled and gathered a lump of iron, up to the limit of 100 grams of the ability. The metal shifted and ebbed in response to my mental commands until I had formed it into a tiny bar like a thick cracker.

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It wasn’t steel, that’s for sure. I have worked with iron and steel before. One could somewhat tell the two apart by how it looked and the way it sounded when worked. Steel was generally brighter, whereas iron was darker and grayer. When hit, steel would ‘ring,’ while iron would ‘thunk.’

This little piece had a dull black color to it. What sort of iron was it? How much carbon did it have? Too much, or too little? I could feel the impurities in the metal. Particles in between the iron that I could not shift, parts that got pulled along. If I could pull out only iron I’d at least know what I’d be dealing with – zero carbon iron.

I flattened the piece into a thin sheet, big as a pizza. It brought all the impurities closer to the surface and I just nudged them out using the iron. They sprinkled out like dust. I continued again and again – shaping and reshaping until I felt like I was left with pure iron.

Now for carbon. I crushed a tiny piece of charcoal into a fine powder, sprinkled it over the flattened piece. Then I folded it, again and again. Would simple mechanical combining work? It wasn’t quite how modern day furnaces made steel. But when magic went into the mix, maybe it would work? It turned out that it didn’t work, but I didn’t stop there. I lit the charcoal in the forge and heated the piece as hot as it allowed. It took time for it to heat up and cool down. But when it did, I knew I had something amazing on my hands.

Steel.

I raised my hook in the air. “Hell yeah!”

At least something went right today. It was an amazing end to an otherwise painful day. Compared to iron, steel was always in great demand and came at a steep price. Forget making nails, I’d get rich crafting steel.

For the next few hours, I ignored my hunger, pains and aches and worked without stopping. By the time evening rolled around I had a whole kilo worth of steel. This was enough to make a gladius type sword – which was exactly what I made. It needed a handle, but I didn’t have the right wood or leather to make it. Instead, I sacrificed a pair of tongs to shape a rough handle and a meaty pommel for balance at the grip.

Next, I wanted to try out some spells from my status screen, starting with [Animate Iron.]

[Animate Iron]

* Minion Limit: 1

* Mana Upkeep: 20 mana / minute

* Mass Limit: 10kg

* Control Range: 30 meters

* Cast Range: Touch

* Action Force: 100

The small anvil seemed like an appropriate target – it weighed less than the ten kilogram mass limit of the spell. I placed my hand on the cold, rusted surface and wondered how to cast the spell.

Did I need to speak the name like in anime? Or perhaps use a special gesture? I got an answer to my question when I thought of the ability [Animate Iron] and willed it to activate without having to say or do anything else.

An awareness entered my mind. The anvil felt like an extension of me. I mentally ordered the anvil to float up, then move in circles around me. Even as it passed behind me, I could feel its presence, and what it did. I flipped it, spun it around, flew it about the room. I was having so much fun that I forgot about my hunger.

In my weakened state, my five per minute mana regeneration couldn’t keep up with the demand of twenty a minute from animating the anvil. I floated the anvil back to the workbench and willed to cancel the animation spell. The anvil thumped to the workbench and the awareness of it vanished instantly from my mind. Next, I tried another spell, the [Void Locker.]

[Void Locker]

* Cost: 120 mana

* Cast Time: 8 sec

* Access Duration: 5 min

* Size: 2m cube

* Cast Range: 5m

I concentrated on an area in the center of the room and cast the spell. Over a course of a few seconds, a jagged black crack formed with an audible tear like ripping of a piece of cloth. It grew larger until it created a square, meter long opening. It hung before me silently.

I peered inside the dark interior of the two meter cube. Very carefully, I inserted my hook through the opening and touched the floor, the walls. They felt solid and smooth like black marble.

I considered hiding the sword inside, but how would I take it out when I needed it? It took too long to open, and the sound and sight of it was almost horrifying. I half expected some eldritch horror to come crawling out. No, much like Animate Iron, this ability would draw attention, people would ask questions and I didn’t need none of that.

I heard someone at the door, and willed the Void Locker to close. The tear in the fabric of space shuddered and snapped shut with an audible slam.

It was about this time that Maggie returned home with the setting of the sun. She brought food with her. Leftovers from the inn, still fresh with bite marks. While I dug into the meal at the table, she noted the lack of firewood.

She didn’t say anything, but it felt like her patience with ‘Percy’ was close to a breaking point. Underneath the surface, I could sense her anger and disappointment. I went to the workbench and returned with the sword, placed it on the table. Instead of being thrilled, she shook her head while letting out a sigh. I knew what she was thinking, and I would too from what I had learned about ‘Percy.’

“No,” I said. “I didn’t steal it, okay? I made it myself.”

She scoffed. “Made it yourself?”

I didn’t want to reveal how. Not to her, not to anyone – not yet anyway. “Just trust me, alright?”

She frowned. “Trust you?”

I wouldn’t either. I didn’t have a way to respond to that. I took out the nails that I had made and laid them out on the table.

“Can you help me sell some nails?” I asked.

“You have been working again?” She blinked, brought one of the nails up to the light of a candle. “I’d never seen them like this before.”

“Well yeah, I’m the nailmaker after all. Right?”

She smiled.