Blackhand

Ever since then, Blackhand had found Solam irritating no matter how he looked at him. Solam didn't mind, though. Anyone who'd lost that badly wouldn't be in any hurry to smile at him, and the old man was only upset about losing face. It wasn't as if he truly hated Solam. A real man honored his bets, after all. Solam thought the old coot was pretty lovable.

"Tsk... This craftsmanship. Your work really is something, old Blackhand. If it were me, I couldn't make it this well even with all those rare metals."

The old man actually had a pretty interesting personality. Sure enough, the moment he heard Solam's praise, his mood brightened, and he broke into a delighted grin.

"Of course. Do you even know who I am? I'm the famous Blackhand! With so many rare metals, it's not easy just figuring out which fluxes to use. And only I, Blackhand, know how to combine these rare metals into an alloy. You've still got a lot to learn, kid." These rare metals wouldn't even melt in lava, which showed just how high their melting points were. Special fluxes were needed to melt them, and each rare metal required a different one. Some even needed spells to help them melt.

Ever since Solam had come to the Forge Clan two years ago, he'd studied Elemental Shaman knowledge under Blackhand, but most importantly, he'd learned smithing from him. As it turned out, Solam had quite a talent for smithing. He'd even invented some new methods based on knowledge from his previous life, but when it came to rare metals, he still couldn't match Blackhand.

"Hmm... This axe you're making isn't bad. Your technique's getting pretty good. But you even added Fire-Pattern Steel? You're generous. Though wouldn't that be a little dangerous for a kid?" The old man glanced at the battleaxe nearing completion on the anvil. Fire-Pattern Steel was a rare metal, and of course it was one of the old man's prized possessions. It was scarce, and adding even a little to a weapon would make it burst into flames when swung with force. It really could be dangerous to give one to a child.

"It's fine. His parents can keep it for him until he's grown. His birthday's coming up, and I haven't seen him in two years. If I don't bring him something nice, he probably won't even want to talk to me."

"You treat your little brother so well. Why'd you have to fleece your teacher like that?" The old man was a little peeved. "Damn it, if you're giving a gift, then give a gift. What's the idea of giving away my stuff?"

"Heh, that's not fair. I said I wouldn't bet with you, but you kept pestering me to play. And now you're blaming me?"

"You... Forget it, forget it. I, Blackhand, honor my bets. I lost it to you, so do whatever you want with it."

"Old man, don't say I'm not being a good friend. Just give me that piece of Adamantine, and we'll call it even. What do you say?"

"Bullshit!!! I've spent all these years collecting just that little bit. I already used a lot of it to reforge Bloodfire, and now you won't even let me keep what's left? Ancestors, Heroic Spirits, strike this traitorous bastard down with lightning!" The moment he heard that, the old man sprang up and shouted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Hmph. Don't put on an act, old man. I'm the one who taught you the phrase 'traitorous bastard.' I've already been more than fair. Asking for just one piece of Adamantine is generous enough. Don't think I don't know you've got plenty of other good stuff. I'm only asking for one piece to settle the debt—you're making a killing. If you won't even agree to that, I'll tell everyone that our great Blackhand has learned to welsh on his debts. What a disgraceful age we live in, with people's hearts so changed!" Solam looked at the old man with a cold sneer.

"Damn it, kid, don't you know to respect your elders? Can't I even feel a little heartache?" The old man had learned quite a few new expressions from Solam lately.

"Fine, fine, take it, take it. I must've owed you in a past life. One wrong step, and I've regretted it ever since. If only I'd never bet with you." The old man looked as if he couldn't bear to think back on the past.

"Heh, that's more like it, Blackhand. A man honors his bets!" Having gotten what he wanted, Solam hurriedly buttered him up.

"Hmph, naturally. What kind of man do you think I am? My word's as good as gold." The old man had taken the bait again. He really did have an adorable personality. "What do you need Adamantine for? Planning to forge another weapon?" Adamantine was not only hard; it could also improve a weapon's sharpness by several levels. It was an exceptionally precious material.

"No. I brought a gift for Little Iluter this time, but I haven't got anything for Krum yet. So I thought I'd upgrade his weapon for him, so he wouldn't think I was playing favorites."

"Hey, you're something else. You really do look out for your own family and your brothers. Why don't you spare a thought for your poor teacher..."

"Damn it, old man, that's a bit heartless. If I hadn't gone easy on you, you'd be left with nothing but your underwear. If you're really going to talk like that, then I'll settle the debt by the rules!" Solam immediately threatened him when he heard the old man start up again.

"Don't, don't! My most beloved student, I'm only complaining. I really didn't mean it toward you." The old man backed down as soon as he heard that.

Their exchange made the other Orcs nearby burst out laughing.

"Hahaha, Master Blackhand, you're backing down already? A real man doesn't back down—he gets right to it! How can you admit defeat to your own student?"

"Exactly, Blackhand! Don't you always say you're a tough, iron-blooded man?"

"Hahahahaha!"

Everyone around them was egging them on, but how could their great Blackhand be intimidated by that? The old man was a businessman, after all. If he hadn't had thick skin, everyone wouldn't have called him Blackhand.

"What the hell are you laughing at? I'm not backing down! Are you going to pay off my gambling debts for me? If you're such real men, come on, play a few rounds with me. I'll show you how to behave!"

As soon as he said that, everyone else pretended not to hear and scattered like birds and beasts. There was a reason the old man was known as the Gambling King of Lava Mountain; he wasn't to be trifled with. He'd taken a terrible fall when he challenged Solam, but he could still easily bully these weaklings. Orcs might not be the brightest, but they weren't stupid. Who'd gamble with him? That would be like asking for trouble. If no one had been willing to bet with him, Blackhand wouldn't have done something so foolish as challenge Solam. Invincibility was just too lonely.

"Pah, a bunch of cowards." The old man felt quite pleased when he saw everyone back down.

Seeing the old man showing off, Solam decided to ignore him and finish the axe on the anvil first.

But after showing off, the old man had no intention of leaving.

"Leave that for now. I've got something to discuss with you."

"What is it? Can't it wait? I'm busy."

"Busy with what? The axe is almost done. It'll only take a few more hammer strikes. You can finish it later. I've got good news for you."

With no choice, Solam followed the old man. People kept greeting him along the way. It seemed Solam was quite popular in the Forge Clan.

Actually, things hadn't been like this when Solam first arrived. The others had seen that he was a mixed-blood and so skinny. Although the Avalon Orcs were good-natured, they could also be very exclusionary. He hadn't noticed it back in his own clan, but after coming to the Forge Clan, he discovered that not every Avalon Orc could accept someone like him. Naturally, there were plenty who gave him a hard time.

But Solam wasn't afraid of that. So he got into fights every few days, winning some and losing others. For the first two months after he arrived, he went around every day with a bruised and swollen face. When old Blackhand asked him what had happened, Solam said he'd fallen.

Those Orcs might have been exclusionary, but they were straightforward. They saw that even when Solam lost a fight, he neither tattled nor begged for mercy, and that he never backed down when people gave him trouble. He also never used spells in a fight, only his fists against theirs. (In an Orc's eyes, using spells in a fight was cheating.)

That attitude suited the Orcs perfectly. He had grit. On top of that, Solam was a good hunter. Whenever he went hunting, he always brought back a catch and helped the hunting party steer clear of danger. The hunting party had suffered few losses over the past two years, thanks to him (Solam could sense danger with his "Communication" ability). Little by little, everyone accepted Solam and came to see him as a true Orcish man. They no longer cared whether he was mixed-blood.

Blackhand was happy to see Solam greeting people everywhere. He'd known for a long time that Solam had been bullied when he first arrived. He wasn't stupid. How could someone come home with a bruised and swollen face every day from falling? But he'd pretended not to know. If Solam had complained to him, he would have sent him back immediately. His disciple could be stupid or sly, but he could never be a coward. Going to your elders to complain when you were bullied was cowardly in an Orc's eyes. The Avalon Orcs would never accept a coward, let alone allow one to become a revered Shaman.

But Solam had done well. He'd shown everyone how tough he was, refusing to yield when bullied and immediately letting them know with his fists that he wasn't someone they could push around.

The Avalon Orcs admired that attitude. It didn't matter whether you could win. Being weak wasn't shameful; having a soft backbone was.

That was why Blackhand liked this disciple of his so much. He taught him Shaman knowledge with all his heart, and even passed down all his smithing skills to him.