The Blacksmith's Home

"Wow, what happened to you two? You're both a mess!" The goddess looked at Zhang Ruofeng and Xin Mu as they returned to the shop, carrying a flowerpot. Xin Mu had already recovered, but she still looked rather unwell, and her clothes were stained with grass and dirt. Zhang Ruofeng had no grass or dirt on him, but his cheap work clothes had several tears, and the fabric around them was dyed red with blood.

"Hey, you two didn't go out to the countryside to..." Perman began teasingly. From her suggestive expression and tone, Zhang Ruofeng already knew what she was getting at. "Get wild—ow!" Evan, the goddess sitting beside her, was quick to smack her on the head, stopping Perman's dirty joke. She sighed.

"Are you two visiting today?" Zhang Ruofeng and Xin Mu politely greeted Evan. Zhang Ruofeng naturally ignored Perman, since he was terrible at dealing with the oddball who was known among the gods as the Witch. Perman had no interest in him either. She immediately latched onto Xin Mu and began chattering away.

It was just past noon, and Zhang Ruofeng and Xin Mu had already eaten. Seeing the four women slip into tea-party mode, Zhang Ruofeng wisely kept his distance. He strapped on his weapon and said, "I'm heading out!" Then he left.

"How did it go?" Perman asked as soon as Zhang Ruofeng was gone. She was very interested in the skill she'd seen for the first time, Boiling Dragon Blood. After all, she had made that skill herself.

"Well, Ruofeng seems a little gentler than before," Fura recalled. "But he doesn't seem to like the change. I even heard him muttering complaints to himself once."

"Where's he off to now?" Evan asked, watching Zhang Ruofeng leave with only the red armguard equipped.

"I heard he ordered a new right armguard," Fura said, looking at Xin Mu. Xin Mu gave a slight nod to confirm it.

Holding the metal business card, Zhang Ruofeng made his way through the streets, relying on his memories of the town and asking people for directions along the way. After plenty of twists and turns, he finally reached the southeastern district, a place he'd never visited before. It was quite different from the northeastern district where he lived. There were fewer commoners here, and many of the adventurers who worked as artisans had gathered in this area. Carts carrying fuel and loads of farm tools and weapons rolled through the streets. The buildings were more spread out, and in many places, a few untended trees grew here and there. Yet Zhang Ruofeng thought it was much hotter than the densely populated area where he lived. It was the middle of the afternoon, but thick black smoke poured from the chimneys of many buildings, and the clang of metal rang loudly through the district.

"This must be the place." Zhang Ruofeng stopped in front of a small, low-roofed building. It wasn't large, and it looked a little run-down. Waves of heat rolled out even from outside the door, suggesting the ventilation inside wasn't very good. "Jiang! Are you home?" He knocked, and Kalisejiang opened the door, wearing a gray headscarf. A wave of heat burst out of the house, and Zhang Ruofeng felt the temperature rise several degrees.

"You're here. I've been waiting for you forever." Seeing that it was Zhang Ruofeng, Kalisejiang complained as he pulled him inside. "The 3,000 Faris you gave me as a deposit ran out ages ago. The details on your weapon were a real pain to make. Even with the mold my senior made, I'm not as skilled as he is, and I don't have as much mana. I've been making your weapon every day for the past few days, and I've nearly run out of mana each time. Do you have any idea how tough this is for me?"

Zhang Ruofeng followed Jiang into the house. Hot air swirled through the room, and even in the late spring, he felt unbearably warm. Straight ahead, a huge black-iron furnace roared with flames. Tools lay scattered across the floor in a disorderly jumble, and there seemed to be another room in the back—probably Jiang's bedroom. But Zhang Ruofeng's eyes were fixed on the iron armguard resting on a large wooden workbench beside the furnace, gleaming in the sunlight.

"That's yours." Jiang pointed to the workbench. As Zhang Ruofeng had expected, the weapon in front of him was the one he'd ordered. "Quit staring at it. I still have more work to do. You didn't come here just for your new weapon, did you? Wasn't there something else you wanted to ask me?"

"Yeah." Zhang Ruofeng took off his red armguard and set it down in front of Jiang. "The second reason I came today is this. It's my weapon. You've seen this red armguard before, right?"

"Yeah, I've seen it once. I made this weapon roughly the same shape and size as yours, since having similar weights on both hands should make it easier for you to use. Try it on and see if the weight feels right. If it doesn't, I'll add another layer of iron to the guard. I had to make it from memory, after all." Seeing how interested Zhang Ruofeng was in the new armguard, Jiang decided to have him try it on. He wasn't sure whether he'd managed to balance its weight with the one Zhang Ruofeng had shown him. It hadn't been polished yet, so it might cut his hand, but Jiang didn't care whether someone who could trade blows head-on with a Guard Bee got hurt. He focused on studying Zhang Ruofeng's armguard.

"Hm?" Just as expected, Zhang Ruofeng cut himself on an edge as he slipped his hand into the armguard. Kalisejiang hadn't polished the edges or sharpened the spikes on the back of the hand yet, so it still looked rather rough.

"Five thousand, and all you could make was a rough iron armguard?" Zhang Ruofeng casually complained that his weapon was a little too expensive. Across from him, Jiang leaped to his feet.

"What did you expect? Do you know how many daggers you could make with the material in your weapon?" Seeing Zhang Ruofeng complain, Jiang—usually a cheerful sort—lost his temper. He'd barely slept for days.

"Fine, fine. You have my thanks, great blacksmith." Zhang Ruofeng brushed him off and fastened the armguard onto his right hand. He immediately noticed that the rough iron armguard was more than twice as large as his red one, making it look bulky. Yet it was still a little lighter, which only made him wonder even more what his own weapon was made of.

"Hm?" Zhang Ruofeng heard Jiang's puzzled voice and realized he'd noticed something.