Dave left the Cambria Snail Cafe feeling mildly frustrated. Cedez's cryptic warnings and evasive answers had only fueled his curiosity, but he knew he couldn't afford to dwell on them now. He had a more immediate task at hand - fulfilling Remicra's purchase orders.

As he made his way through the bustling streets of Shandria, Dave couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Every shadow seemed to hold a potential threat, every stranger a possible danger.

"Focus damn it," he thought. "I'm totally just a normal adventurer doing normal... adventurer things."

The declaration sounded rather hollow but he kept repeating it like a mantra hoping that it would reduce his encounters with devourers of knowledge or whatever.

Buying the items, he learned that the oil was commonly used by dragonfolk to maintain the health of their scales, while the fruit was a delicacy they particularly enjoyed.

As he approached the entrance of the smithy, Dave's heart pounded with trepidation.

After a pause, he shoved the heavy, weathered door open, exposing the inferno of steam, smoke, sparks and dragon blacksmith.

Remicra’s eyes instantly narrowed into slits of suspicion as she scanned the contours of Dave’s new outfit, noting the unblemished gray fabric and absence of bandages and bruises on his skin. Her iridescent scales seemed to take on a sinister, blood-rent glint in the flickering light cast by the glowing coals and the Ignix Kitlix stirring inside of the forge.

"Did you trick me?!" Remicra growled. "You had money on you all this time?!"

"No," he said, pushing the oil and fruit towards her on an old, wooden table. "I simply made money at the market using a bit of haggling."

Remicra eyed him warily, her sharp claws clacking against the stone floor. "Haggling, huh?" she said, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed the oil and fruits. "You spent a lot more than seven coppers... these are of premium quality. Why?"

"I know that you needed the oil for your skin, so I got you the expensive stuff," Dave replied. "I could spend more money because I turned your seven coppers into twenty silver today."

"You smelled like death just this morning... How?!" she snapped.

"Simple," Dave said. "I got a mana crystal from a merchant in the shady area of town for seven coppers and sold it to a crystal shop for twenty silver. I turned the money you gave me into more money. As for my bruises, I paid for a healing bath.”

Remicra's jaw dropped, her violet-gold eyes widening in disbelief.

"Twenty silver from seven coppers without making a thing?!" Remicra uttered. "That's almost unheard of! What kind of ungodly negotiation magic do you possess?!"

"I don't have negotiation magic, just extra Wisdom and Charisma that I can alternate between," Dave laughed. "I simply paid attention to the world around me for once in my life. Dying and getting reincarnated really changes a person, I guess. I worked hard to make sure to get the best deal possible for us."

"Us?!" The dragoness blinked.

"Yes, us," Dave said. "Whatever else you want purchased, I can get it for you with the remaining cash."

Remicra eyed the negative balance on his bracelet.

"It's fine," Dave shrugged. "I just think of this as a credit card."

"I don't know what a credit card is," she commented.

"The Guild isn't rushing me to pay it off." Dave added. "I just have cash on top to spare, see?"

The look on Remicra's face as he poured the remaining money on the table in front of her was priceless.

"Perhaps, after all, you're not as pathetically useless as I thought," she muttered.

"So, what do you want me to get you?" he asked. "Make a list! I have more market investigations to do and the Adventurer's Guild to visit while I'm at it."

Remicra seemed to hesitate, her gleaming scales reflecting the light of the forge. She reached for the bottle of oil and sniffed it before applying it to her hands. Rubbing them together, she seemed to contemplate the offer.

"You win this round..." she began, her eyes narrowing in reluctant concession.

"Dave," he supplied with a grin.

"Dave," Remicra resumed, finally uttering his name in lieu of the generic epithet 'human.'

Dave felt content as Remicra finally relented to his persistence at forging a friendship. She grabbed a nearby piece of soft scrap metal, and with the precision of an artisan, began to jot down items in neat block letters using her sharp claw.

Dave accepted the list with a sense of pride far surpassing that of the mission to collect gold teeth issued by the Dragon God-Emperor.

"Are you going to tell me who owns you so that I can attempt to buy your freedom?" he pressed.

"I cost a lot more than a few silver coins," Remicra replied, glancing with disdain at the money on the counter.

"I'm certain that I could make more money with some more creative thinking or perhaps some adventuring," Dave shrugged.

"Lord Burgundy Strao," the dragoness exhaled after a deep pause. "He is a Shandrian noble who holds dominion over a third of the city's businesses."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Well, this Lord Burgundy," Dave said, "sounds like a bit of a twit, if you ask me. But fear not, fair dragoness! I shall find a way to free you from his dastardly clutches."

"Free me to do what?" she asked with a tiniest quirk of a smile.

"Free you... to free you," Dave shrugged.

"That," Remicra stated, "is quite possibly the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Now, if you would be so kind, please tell me what it is that you truly want from me. Are you planning on keeping me as a pet if you somehow miraculously manage to buy this dilapidated smithy?”

“Oh, you come with the smithy?” Dave mulled. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Remicra sent a dangerous glare.

“I already told you what I want,” Dave said. “Resources, local knowledge and a place to sleep... plus someone to help me take the magic metal out of my blood."

“I have no resources, I know less than a local urchin since I’m confined to this damned tower and this place is falling apart at the seams,” Remicra retorted. “You’d have better luck staying at a pub and leaving me be. I see no rationale behind your insistence on freeing me.”

"Regardless of how crumbling this tower is," Dave's eyes went over the shop. "It is a very solid, magically-reinforced structure that weathered untold centuries from what I can see. I'm from another world and I am curious if I could apply my knowledge to improve this workshop."

"To what end?" Remicra asked. "You think you're the only one summoned here?"

"I'm aware that there are other summoned that inflicted their culture upon this world," Dave said. "They sell lattes outside of the town gate. A latte is a drink from my world."

"Exactly," the dragoness said. "All of your efforts are useless in the grand scheme of things, like a drop of water in a rain shower."

"You're just being crabby because you're stuck in here," Dave pointed out. "And to counter what you said earlier, you're clearly more intelligent than you let on."

The dragoness silently considered Dave's words.

"Look, Remicra," Dave began. "I'm not sure I can actually free you. But I'd like to try. This place is... well, it's pretty wild compared to Earth. And you? You're something else entirely."

"What?" Remicra asked.

"You threw me out of here earlier like I was nothing," Dave said. "You're strong, good with metal, and smart."

Remicra snorted.

Dave replied eagerly, "I'm proposing a partnership. We could combine your metalworking skills with my knowledge of technology from my world. We could really change things around here."

Remicra raised an eyebrow. "Change things how?"

"Well," Dave said, "we could make weapons that don't need magic, or even... a flying machine."

"You know how to make a flying machine?" Remicra asked skeptically.

"Probably," Dave shrugged.

"Probably?" she repeated.

"Yeah," Dave explained, "I know some things, and I'll figure out the rest as we go. I just need you to teach me about magic metalworking."

"You want me to teach you? You look like you can barely handle the heat," Remicra scoffed.

"That's just because the ventilation in here is terrible," Dave countered, gesturing at the messy shop. "Why don't we start by fixing up this place a bit? We could make better tools, create new materials, and see what we can do together. Are you not a master blacksmith? Does the prospect of expanding your knowledge not entice you?"

"You wish to increase the value of a smithy that does not belong to you?" The dragoness raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't seem smart. Pretty sure that the human bastard who owns me won't sell me."

"Okay, fair enough," he conceded. "But what if we focused on things that wouldn't necessarily increase the smithy's value, but would make your life here more comfortable?"

The dragoness regarded him for an extended moment, her eyes scrutinizing his every feature, searching for the faintest trace of duplicity. At last, she nodded her head slowly, as if surrendering to the inevitable.

"Alright," she sighed. "I'll bite. I'll add some stuff to the list then."

"But first, lunch!" Dave announced, slapping another cloth bag onto the table with a flourish. "I suspect you know how to fry a steak on that forge of yours, yes?"

----------------------------------------

As Dave neared the lighthouse later that evening, returning with purchased goods, the spectral violin within his soul began to play a tense melody, a subtle indication that something was amiss.

He slowed his pace and slid everything into Wisdom, his eyes scanning the surroundings. It wasn't long before Wisdom helped him notice a fresh set of footprints imprinted in the muddy path, leading up to the entrance of the lighthouse.

With caution as his guide, Dave circled the towering structure, his senses on high alert. He spotted a small hole in the grimy stained-glass window and approached it, wincing as sharp, rose-like flowers nipped at his ankles.

Inside the smithy, a gray figure was engaged in animated conversation with Remicra. As they spoke, Remicra's mood-ring-like scales shifted through a kaleidoscope of colors.

Dave pressed closer to the window, straining to catch snippets of the conversation.

As his eyes grew accustomed to the dimly lit interior of the smithy, he saw more details. The visitor was a gray-skinned female, with stony features that looked as if they had been meticulously chiseled from solid rock. Adorning her head was a gleaming arrangement of white and violet crystal spikes.

Her cold voice cut through the air, her tone firm. "There was a spike in the ward log last night," she stated. "Are you keeping the tower clear of pests?"

In response, Remicra's scales shifted to a red-orange hue, betraying her unease.

"A wild bird might have gotten in at night," the dragoness offered.

"A bird? Do you take me for a fool? Your scales suggest that you are concealing something. A visitor, perhaps?"

At this accusation, Remicra's scales rapidly darkened to a deeper red.

"Thought so," the crystal-rock female said.

"Go to hell, Overseer," the dragoness hissed out.

"Alas, you cannot deceive me," the Overseer replied. "The collar disrupts your innate defenses and presents your emotions to me as clear as day. Now, if you would be so kind as not to waste my time, confess as to who was here last night. I have twenty-seven more properties of Lord Burgundy to visit today, and time is a luxury I cannot afford to squander."

Remicra simply glared in response.

The crystalline girl made a sudden motion, twisting a gemstone on her wrist bracelet, and the dragoness hissed in agony, collapsing to her knees as though the unseen strings supporting her body had been cut.

"Who was it?" The Overseer asked, spinning the dial on her armored wrist.

"N-nobody," Tears burst from Remicra's eyes as she rolled on the floor and clawed at the collar on her neck. "J-just a bird... there are holes in the roof... you should probably g-get someone to patch it up."

"Do I need to increase the pain further, or will you cease wasting my time?" the Overseer demanded after another minute, her voice cold. "You can't trick me or the ward. I saw recent footsteps in the dirt! Just tell me their name so that I can find 'em and break their legs!"

"FFFF-fine," the dragoness choked out, her claws clenching and unclenching as she struggled to regain control.

Dave's heartbeat sped up. A pang of uncertainty gnawed at him, as he wondered if all of his plans were on the verge of falling apart.

The Overseer looked down at the magic-bound blacksmith, her silver eyes gleaming, shark like-gray teeth wide in a malicious smile. One of her steel-armored boots slammed down on Remicra's hand with inhuman swiftness and the dragoness cried as one of her fingers snapped and twisted at an odd angle.

"Stop! I'll tell you everything!" Remicra cried out, cradling her hand. "A human..."