Rein groaned inwardly at the pest that is Beincen. Part of him had hoped that Beincen would simply back off and leave him alone. Perhaps they’d never be friendly, but he would very much prefer the man to pine for him to die on a dangerous mission than to be a daily annoyance.
As for why Rein was certain Beincen wasn’t going to leave him be? Well, the scion of House Larne was conversing with a bare-chested blacksmith, all the while shooting smirks at Rein as well as pointing his figure out to the blacksmith, who was undoubtedly, the main man of this forge.
The procession moved in front of this bare-chested blacksmith, who gave off the animalistic impression of a bear, his hair spiking out sideways and his beard, a pair of thick mutton chops on two sides of his square jaw.
Already, Rein’s gears were whirling as he fully confirmed that Beincen was never going to leave him be-- not even if Rein tried to keep things relatively civil, so to speak. Yes. Even taking half a step backwards will only encourage this blasted noble.
Unfortunately, that very much meant that he would not be able to stay as discreet. Rein could only hope that Xeeseir’s light would shine so bright that his fire-play with Beincen would go relatively unnoticed.
The bare-chested blacksmith immediately motioned Rein to the very front, and Xeeseir, also having noticed the events, whispered urgently, “Show him the token of Jensure.”
But Rein pretended not to hear Xeeseir’s advice, and quizzically lumbered up beside this blacksmith, the instructor for advancer armament forging.
“Young whelp. What do you know of smithing, hmm?” the bare-chested instructor rumbled. Although influenced by Beincen, the instructor was rather careful in his approach, giving off the impression of a kind instructor, and Rein the lucky one to be dragged to the front.
Best to just stay within his area of knowledge, Rein thought. Frankly, he was unsure of what this instructor was trying to do. Assuming that Beincen had wished for the instructor to humiliate him, then perhaps, it would be best for him to humiliate himself first. That was Rein’s conclusion.
“As an inexperienced youngling stepping foot into the advancer world, I know next to nothing. At best, I know of some mortal forging techniques, and some basic inscriptional techniques, but no more.” Rein calmly downplayed all that he knew.
“Pathetic!” The bare-chested blacksmith spat spittle flying into Rein’s face, “You entered the Hall of Heroes with no knowledge of advancer forging techniques?!”
Rein, unperturbed by the sudden onslaught, bowed his head and emotionlessly stated, “And I am happy to learn. As did all those working the forges behind you when they first started, sir. As do some of my peers in this new group of initiates, sir!”
The Hall of Heroes recruits initiates every quarter of the year, and these initiates are usually lacking in observable talent and thus rejected by the advancer sects. Frankly, everyone at the forge knew that at all. The workers of the forge had a conflicted expression on their face-- they clearly knew something odd was afoot. The group of new initiates were instead mostly confused.
Judging by the instructor’s slight frown, Rein knew that his approach was effective. Perhaps some instructors might not care about face. This instructor clearly did as he could not help scanning the faces of the Halls members running his forge.
If Rein had given the indication that he actually understood advancer forging techniques, then the instructor would likely question his holes in that knowledge and satisfy Beincen’s request through that method.
If Rein reacted emotionally to his insult, it could be seen as an affront to the instructor. Yet he had instead calmly indicated his desire to learn.
The only doubt Rein had on his approach depended on whether this bare-chested blacksmith was firmly in Guihnes’ camp, which Rein suspected House Larne to be a part of. His educated guess was that it was unlikely. Surely, the Hall of Heroes would not allow a major blacksmith of its halls to only serve armaments for one single faction-- one-fifth of this branch.
Yet to give up on his objective, the bare-chested blacksmith pivoted. He ordered a worker to “bring mortal steel to the anvil,” and gestured for Rein to fold and strengthen the material. “Hah. Who says mortal forging is completely irrelevant?”
That statement certainly made Rein somewhat nervous. He wondered what benefits Beincen might have promised this instructor.
However, he had once been ordered to practice some of these things under Blacksmith Tiehr. Only problem was, it had been more than six months since he had done anything of the sort.
He could only pray to the fallen gods that his arms would still execute the movements required.
A worker brought a whitish-red piece of glowing rectangular steel bar to the anvil, and Rein picked up a pair of tongs, a chisel and a hammer. With the chisel, he separated the piece of steel in the middle, leaving the bottom surface unbroken to allow the front section to bend under the back section.
Once done, he began hammering away to combine the two pieces. His nervousness quickly dispelled as he found the action easier than ever. His body had become stronger under Master Yirn-- his advancer realm had risen due to the magic that had further imbued his body.
Moreover, after the past night’s events, the draconic metamorphose bead had fully transformed his body. He began even worrying that he would strike the metal with too much force.
“Quicker, you fool!” The bare-chested blacksmith was now fully animated, roaring at Rein to speed up. A Rein from the past would not be able to do it much quicker. But now, he discovered that his strength and deftness was at a much higher level.
Thus his rhythm increased. Occasionally, the blacksmith instructor would yell at him to even a spot out, to reheat the piece of metal more or less before performing another fold, to slightly speed up or slow down his hammering.
At this point in time, Rein had entered a trance, and completely forgotten that the blacksmith instructor was supposed to be causing trouble for him at Beincen’s behest.
But then the clinking sound interrupted his rhythm. Rein’s token that signified his allegiance to Supreme Jensure’s faction had dropped out of his pocket during his folding of the steel.
“Oops.” Rein placed down the hammer and tongs and gingerly bent down to repocket the golden crane token.
The bare-chested blacksmith’s eyes followed the token back into Rein’s pocket. For a single heartbeat, the new initiate and the instructor gazed into each other’s eyes. Then the blacksmith broke into a wide smile, as he applauded, “Well done, I say!” He picked up the folded steel, and presented to the new initiates.
“See this wavy pattern in the steel? A signature of a blacksmith himself! Many areas for improvement, but not bad for a new initiate! I hope all of you will desire to craft armaments. Blacksmiths are the origins of the Spears of Heaven!” He declared.
The blacksmith waved Rein aside, whispering in annoyance, “You little fucker. Why didn’t you first show me Jensure’s token? You definitely knew what Beincen was up to!”
Rein, sweaty from his earlier exertions, could only cough to suppress a chuckle. “Sir, I simply forgot.”
“You little bastard. I bet you also knew that we instructors aren’t allowed to take sides in the faction conflict either. You’re making my job hard!” The blacksmith’s statement fully confirmed Rein’s guess. The Hall of Heroes certainly operated in a manner of strict rules that sought to elevate the best combatants.
“Sir. It is Beincen that is making your job difficult,” Rein quipped, but still addressing the blacksmith respectfully.
He paused for a heartbeat, before offering his deal-- one that he had wanted to offer ever since he was reminded of Blacksmith Tiehr by these forges. “I’ll say nothing of today’s events to anyone. I simply wish to be taught to craft these armaments.”
From their procession of meeting one instructor after another, all neglecting to even mention their name, Rein had determined it was probably difficult to receive guidance from any instructor in these Halls. This was an opportunity.
“Gifts are customary for such occasions.” Surprisingly, the blacksmith instructor easily accepted Rein’s offer.
Rein pulled out a long rectangular box from a light sack that he had carried around with him along with his soak staff.
Opening the box revealed two shortswords. The ones that Rein had obtained from the two assassins that Rein suspected were hired by House Larne, in a bid to get rid of him prior to his entrance to the Hall of Heroes.
“The best that I, Rein, can offer. However, I am more than happy to return with valuable materials from dangerous missions.” Rein paused for a moment, before adding, “Though, if I do retrieve those materials, it is likely that Supreme Jensure would prefer that to stay within the faction.”
The blacksmith instructor seemed slightly disappointed by the two low grade shortswords, then scoffed, “That is, if you survive those dangerous missions. I’ll hold you to that promise.” That lack of rejection meant Rein had been accepted.
All this occurred under the watchful eyes of the initiates, all wondering about the whisperings between Rein and the blacksmith instructor. To his inner glee, Rein could see Beincen recognizing the two shortswords. Indeed, it was House Larne that had hired those two men to ambush Rein prior to his induction into the Hall of Heroes!
Beincen, with clenched jaws and a taut body could only watch as Rein essentially used the two shortswords-- weapons that Beincen had given to the hired assassins-- as a gift to the blacksmith instructor.
The blacksmith instructor turned to the curious watchers and stated the ‘result’. His booming voice declared, “All of you should know, I have a knack for identifying talent! I, the renowned blacksmith Rahr, tested Rein to ensure his suitability to work in my forge! He is hired and will be under my tutelage!”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Oh. Rein suddenly realized that it was quite likely that he would be worked to the bones. That must have been why this blacksmith Rahr had nonchalantly accepted him as a disciple.
Then, he grinned inwardly. A good opportunity to train his fully-transformed body!
Rahr now had the two shortswords in his hands. “Many of you surely wonder how armaments are made. On how it differs from the mortal art of blacksmithing.”
“There are three differing aspects: Aurae conduction, material creation, and inscription enchantment.”
“Work the bellows.” He ordered Rein. Then he waved over another and ordered, “Fire.” The other worker’s palms held fireballs and the man started throwing these fireballs into the furnace.
“Wait, blacksmith!” Beincen stepped forth. “These weapons are--”
“Don’t you know the rule?! Don’t interrupt a blacksmith’s work!” Rahr gave House Larne no face, and stuck one of the shortswords into the inferno.
Rein closely observed Beincen-- from his interactions with the noble, he expected Beincen to explode anytime, especially without that scholar whispering words to calm the man’s mind. Instead, Beincen surprisingly reined in his anger and stomped off!
This set the alarm bells ringing within Rein’s mind. He had observed many situations during his merchant days. From his perspective, a man like Beincen could only calm himself and walk away from such a situation if he already had other nefarious plans in place!
After a short moment, Blacksmith Rahr withdrew a white-hot blade.
When he brought the hammer to the blade, a sudden red inscription lit up, causing Rahr’s whole arm to tense as he tightened his grip. Next, Rein saw the blacksmith cover his whole arm in a fiery red aurae skin.
The hammer’s inscription also lit up. “All advancer weapons at least have a protection spell of some sort to keep it only usable for the owner. It is like a lock that one needs to pick in order to destroy the weapon.” He explained.
What followed was a flurry of hammer blows that struck at the white-hot shortsword at different angles and rhythm. The red inscription that protected the weapons abruptly shattered with an ear-piercing shrill. That sight certainly filled Rein with exhilaration.
With a hammer and chisel, Rahr promptly separated the blade of the shortsword into small squarish sections.
The blacksmith lopped all of these pieces into the blast furnace.
He slapped a hand against the base of the blast furnace, and an inscription lit up. “Just speeding up the process,” explained Rahr. Indeed, the involvement of magic made the process blindingly fast to what Rein had experienced when he had to perform the same task under Blacksmith Tiehr.
Soon enough, Blacksmith Rahr released an opening, and a molten liquid flowed out. He then slapped the base of the blast furnace again, and an ice spell activated. Surprisingly the sudden change in temperature did not stress the furnace in any shape or form.
Rahr, seemingly tolerant of a large range of temperatures, easily detached and lifted the top half of the blast furnace. What was revealed was a grayish chunk of material. “Now, that, my dear young whelps, is what we call limpite.”
He pointed at the lump of material that had been expelled by the blast furnace. “And that is just simply whatever the base material of the shortsword was.”
Rein squinted his eyes in thought. Limpite…coins?! His mind naturally began connecting the dots. One of the main currencies used in the world of advancers was limpite-- it seemed like the reason for it was also that the material is critical in creating armaments.
“Yes. Limpite.” Rahr smiled in satisfaction. “It is one of the very best materials that conduct aurae. Not only that. It is a material that can be easily fused and merged with nearly all materials. Thus, it essentially increases the quality of an advancer armament’s ability to quickly and precisely activate any advancer art inscribed upon the weapons or armor.”
The blacksmith then pulled up a jade-green coin from his sleeves. “And this is lumite. The higher currency relative to the limpite coin. A superior aurae conductor to limpite. To date, these are two of the three main materials that are workable for us advancers in terms of modifying aurae conduction.”
“Both easily float to the top when in molten form within the blast furnace. Lumite will rise to the highest, followed by limpite. Most, if not all of the base materials, will likely fall to the bottom. This material, once merged with a metal, needs to be evenly distributed through folding such that the armament has a relatively similar aurae conducting nature throughout its body.”
“There are some other materials that naturally have aurae conduction qualities, whether that be unique types of woods, bamboo, or grass that can be weaved into armor, just as an example.”
The blacksmith then picked up a bar of unidentified type of metal from a side-desk.
“Now for material creation. Many of you surely have been taught that advancer arts are essentially imitating nature and combining various effects.” He activated his fiery aurae skin, and the thin piece of metal bar between his palms soon glowed white, its temperatures sky-high.
“Pour the freezing oil.” A helper stepped forth with a large jar that had an icy-blue inscription activated on its surface. Uncorking the jar, she poured a misty black liquid waterfall that rinsed the white-hot piece of metal bar.
“Such a process never occurs in nature. Our increasingly complex magics allow us to combine various processes to create unique materials with unique properties. Including growing unique types of woods.” The original metal had gained a lustrous black sheen. As for what exactly had changed, the blacksmith did not explain.
Rahr then yawned, growing bored. Unfortunately, compared to his colleagues, his specialty required much more effort in terms of delivering an understandable demonstration.
“Finally, inscriptions. Well, you all already know, so I will not bother explaining the importance of it to armaments. However, you all do need to understand that a larger surface area and inner layers of an armament allows more intricate and number of inscriptions to be etched into the material.”
He then waved the new initiates away. “Rein, is it? I expect a quarter of your day to be spent here when you are not preparing or on Hall missions.”
Rein bowed his head in acknowledgement before rejoining the procession that winded away. Xeeseir clapped a hand to Rein’s back, and wordlessly chortled in amusement at the outcome of the incident with the blacksmith.
In some ways, one could say Rein had paid a price to subvert Beincen’s desired goal, but frankly, Rein had always desired to understand more of Blacksmith Tiehr’s passion. Perhaps, that was a reflection of his own interest as well.
Rein had in fact gained a degree of respect for Blacksmith Rahr. Though the instructor had initially attempted to cause trouble for him, Rahr had immediately pivoted and abandoned any promised benefits and instead accepted Rein under his tutelage.
Dahk had dragged out the horn he had looted from the rhino’s corpse in their battle the night before. He kept glancing at Rein and back at the horn.
“Unfortunately, I doubt I’ll be able to craft a weapon for you anytime.” Rein knew precisely what Dahk was thinking.
“I know.” Dahk shook his head. “It is said that a trade needs to be fair and just. That is a law of my kin. I am only measuring the worth of this horn.”
Rein opened his mouth but then immediately closed his lips again. Initially, Rein felt Dahk was, well, simple. But he realized that such an impression is inaccurate. Dahk’s minimal speech created that impression, but Rein now realized that wherever the man came from must be some place with unique practices.
He had adjusted his impression of Dahk. “Our missions into the western wilderness will be dangerous. When that time comes, having you wielding a quality weapon at our side would be more than enough payment.”
Xeeseir nodded in agreement, while Wilo remained her inscrutable self.
Very soon, they found themselves in a large arena with an oval-shaped hard flat ground surrounded by spectator rows. The space could probably seat a good hundred thousand crowd.
Standing in the middle of the arena was their next instructor-- a suave, young bare-chested man in a pair of billowing white silk pants. Beincen had arrived here while the new initiates received Rahr’s instruction! Once again, Beincen whispered into the instructor’s ear before leaving to watch on the side.
And once again, Rein was called up to stand beside the instructor. Growing tired of playing with Beincen’s games, Rein flashed Jensure’s golden crane token, only to have it rejected.
“Please,” the instructor’s falsetto voice contrasted his appearance. “That thing isn’t as useful as you think.”
He turned to the crowd. “I am a sparring instructor. It’s quite simple. We spar and improve our ability to do combat. In general, it is agreed upon that most spars remain within the same advancer realm. However, exceptions can be made if agreed upon by competitors. Additionally, you will be punished for severely injuring an opponent. Now, for proper competitions--that is another matter entirely.”
“Some of you may already be aware of this, but all Hall of Heroes members are to compete against one another if not on a mission to the west! As long as you are here, you must accept a challenge once a day! At the end of every month, those at the top will receive more contribution points! We of the Halls reward those with high combat ability!”
“Once again, I repeat. You are not to kill each other. If you fall, you must fall battling demons and devils! But! The Allfather demands you all to polish yourselves against each other!”
He pointed at Rein. “Pick your weapon.”
Rein knew that Beincen must be hoping to use this spar to inflict a few injuries. Not that he could avoid it. Rein frowned, before picking up a black metal staff. The instructor picked a similarly-lengthed halberd.
Their first few trades were more of ‘testing the waters’. But soon enough, the ringing clash of metal pole on pole echoed through the vast oval arena.
Frankly, Rein was incredibly surprised by how well he himself was doing. In truth, he had only ever sparred against his half-senior Chenhr under Master Yirn. And Chenhr, even with that bamboo fan of his, had a perfect impenetrable defense. Any momentary lapse in focus, even a single blink of the eye, would lead the Chenhr counter attacking.
Against this instructor, Rein initially expected it to be the same. Yet, Rein found himself gradually pressing the advantage as the instructor took half, then a full step back every few clashes of the staff and halberd poles.
His confidence surging, Rein quickly understood where his advantage was from. First, the unnamed staff techniques from Master Yirn must be special. Second, sparring against Chenhr who used his aurae cloud to suppress opponents, had ingeniously elevated his ability. Last of all, his body was now the state of a young dragon’s superior flesh and bones!
The instructor was now positively scowling. As a sparring instructor, he was supposed to be the most experienced. Not to mention, he had selected Rein to satisfy Beincen’s requests.
Initially, the instructor had avoided using any magic. Those of the inner realm, the level of all these initiates, were generally not capable of any magic unless assisted by weapon inscriptions. Yet now, he discovered Rein’s staff techniques to be unknown to him, and the initiate’s body to be surprisingly quicker, more forceful, agile than his own!
Rein had even begun landing a few strikes onto the instructor’s body, greatly embarrassing him in front of the others.
The instructor had originally stated that when sparring, it was considered apt to stay within the same advancer realm. But Rein intuitively knew what this instructor was contemplating.
Rein reflexively leapt backwards as the instructor suddenly covered his whole body in an aurae skin of soft metallic. The aurae skin weaved into each other to form a pattern, activating a spell that likely gave the user increased combat augmentations.
The combat instructor had a dark and gloomy face. He knew that going this route was embarrassing for his reputation. Yet, his reputation was already under question since Rein had a visible advantage in their spar while staying within the inner advancer realm.
He couldn’t understand why he was unable to match Rein in terms of the physical body. Yes! These initiates have been stuck in the inner realm for a long time. He reasoned that some oddballs stuck as inner advancers must have simply had more time to master the intricacies of the inner realm-- the realm of transforming the body.
He faintly recalled the knowledge that each advancer realm had certain degrees of mastery. Those who used psychedelics might lose out on some of that mastery, but who didn’t use psychedelics? The instructor was quite naturally flustered at the current events.
He inwardly cursed again at his decision to accept Beincen’s offer. If news of this event were to reach Overseer Jeahz… his position was threatened! The only way for him to retain any influence was to crush this new initiate before him, here and now!