Kadiya

Fele belonged to the military administration, under the city guard. He was a squad leader and an intermediate warrior apprentice himself, making him relatively strong.

Moreover, Fele was not always stationed at the city gate. They rotated every few days, one day at a time, which greatly restricted Dole's surveillance.

However, he quickly discovered their pattern. Fele and the others rotated every three days, standing watch for three days at a stretch.

Fele stayed in the military camp at night, but after ten o'clock each evening, he could return home. Squad leaders like them had that privilege.

That was also a feature of the military camp—meant to spur them onward. Besides, those who could become soldiers generally had connections.

This was the conclusion Dole reached after ten days, and after those ten days, he took the Strength Potion and Agility Potion for the second time.

A month passed slowly. Dole's strength improved tremendously, and he had completely crossed beyond the initial stage of intermediate warrior apprentice. He was a head taller than he had been before last year. He used to be skinny and frail, like a lanky monkey, but now he was broad and sturdy, already comparable to an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old youth. Among the many smiths, he could now be considered an experienced hand.

The smithy remained busy, filled with constant clanging as everyone went about their work. Dole was busy as well, forging a broadsword. When he looked up, he saw someone arrive.

A man in black—Kadiya.

Kadiya was studying him now, seemingly finding something very strange.

Dole was somewhat startled as well. Why had he run into this guy? A slight change could not help appearing in his solemn expression.

Kadiya was even more surprised. He could see through the disguise on Dole's face. As a seasoned professional, he had a great deal of experience.

Was this Dole? He had changed so much?

He looked at Dole without giving anything away, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. "How should I address you, little smith?"

Hearing that, Dole knew Kadiya had recognized him. He revealed his signature foolish grin. "My name is Lin Rui. Is there something you need, sir?"

Once he heard the voice, Kadiya was even more certain of Dole's identity. Looking over Dole's build, he was inwardly shocked. This fellow had improved rather quickly. From the looks of it, he had already reached the intermediate warrior apprentice stage.

Kadiya showed him the sword at his waist. "It's damaged. Can you repair it?"

Dole blinked. Wasn't Verek usually the one who repaired this sword? He was a little puzzled.

Naturally, Kadiya could not say that Verek had caught a cold and had not come in today, that the others were not confident they could handle it, and that having a level-three smith do the job was too expensive. He could only come to Montuo Smithy. In any case, both smithies were businesses of the Link Family.

The Aoun Family also had its own smiths, but their craftsmanship could only be called mediocre.

"Can you repair it?" Kadiya asked again irritably.

Dole smiled. "I can, but I'll need some other materials, such as Black Refined Copper."

Strictly speaking, this combat sword was only an ordinary sword, forged from a mixture of refined steel and Black Refined Copper, ensuring both hardness and toughness. Now, seeing the pitted blade covered in sword marks and cracks, Dole knew refined steel alone would not be enough to repair it.

Kadiya was somewhat astonished. Dole was this capable now? He could even repair a level-two combat sword? But when he thought of the strange things about this fellow, he found it easier to accept.

"Fine. I'll go find Uncle Red," Kadiya said readily. Clearly, he was also quite familiar with Uncle Red.

Very quickly, he brought out some iron ore and Black Refined Copper.

Repairing the sword was not difficult. It took some time, and by the time it was finished, work was nearly over.

Kadiya took the sword back from Anderson and inspected it carefully, nodding inwardly. It was nearly perfect. This skill was basically that of a level-two smith—no wonder he had said he could do it.

"Now that you're done, want to go have a drink?" Kadiya asked Dole with great interest.

Dole dismissed his apprentices, tidied up, and said, "Sure. I'll go to the back and change first."

Kadiya nodded.

Soon, Dole emerged from the back in a fresh set of clothes. The two headed toward the city together and quickly arrived at a tavern.

Kadiya was a regular here. He went straight to a private room, and without even asking, the attendant quickly brought over some liquor.

Dole rarely drank. First, he had never had the occasion; second, whatever money he had went toward food—where would he get money for drink? He did not like the smell of alcohol either. It was the smell of drunks on the street.

Kadiya poured himself a cup, then was stopped by Dole when he tried to pour one for him.

"Dole, I searched for you for quite a while. I thought you had already... I never expected the culprit to die for no apparent reason a few days ago," Kadiya said meaningfully.

Sitting across from Kadiya, Dole was not moved by his words. The man was already dead. What was there left to say?

"Sir Kadiya, I doubt you came looking for me just to speak of these matters. I consider myself a nobody, unworthy of attention from someone like you." He smiled faintly.

Dole had long known Kadiya's identity. He was the Aoun Family's foremost combat-sword expert, a transcendent swordsman with considerable freedom. He could take disciples, or establish his own school in this godforsaken city, yet even now, he still came and went alone, accepting only combat-sword commissions from the Aoun Family.

That was highly unreasonable. Everyone guessed that Kadiya must have another identity.

That was what the smiths talked about when they had nothing better to do. Dole had merely overheard it.

Kadiya looked at Dole and smiled. "Once any profession reaches the intermediate stage, it requires a great deal of meat and medicinal support. I believe you know that too. You should be very short of money now, shouldn't you?"

Dole froze. What did Kadiya mean? Was he going to give him money? After thinking it over, he said, "Other than smithing, I can't do much else. My monthly wages are already fairly decent now. I plan to save them up and buy a combat aura technique someday. If there are no medicines, then there are no medicines. I'll just progress slowly." This was the greatest pain of all commoner warriors.

Without resources, they could only grind away with time. Then, little by little, they would pass the age when their blood and vitality were at their peak, and in the end fade away in silence, forever unable to attain transcendence.

Kadiya's gaze narrowed slightly as he stared closely at Dole. "No. You have another way to make money. At the very least, you handled the matter of Sam's family exceptionally well. It truly was a perfect assassination."

After saying that, the fervor in his eyes was impossible to conceal.

A chill rose in Dole's heart. What kind of person was this guy?

Kadiya looked at Dole. "Do you want to make more money?"

Dole thought, Here it comes. This guy's trump card is about to be revealed.

He narrowed his eyes and replied without the slightest hesitation, "Of course I am."

Kadiya picked up his wineglass, chuckled, and said, "Come somewhere with me later."

Half an hour later, night had fallen completely. The two left the tavern and soon disappeared into the darkness. They moved slowly and quickly reached the northwest district. Along the way, Kadiya asked him to change his face, and swiftly assumed another appearance himself. He also pulled up a hood, concealing himself.

Dole naturally went along with it. He could tell that Kadiya's second profession was probably not a respectable one.

This was another tavern, called Venn Tavern. Its entrance was a tiny, inconspicuous doorway along the street. Inside, the lighting was extremely dim—almost completely dark.

The moment he entered the tavern, Dole sensed that something was off. It was summer, yet he felt a chill upon entering—not the chill of temperature, but one that seeped into the spirit. As a mage, he was highly sensitive to his surroundings.

The tavern's furnishings were simple as well. A long bar counter stood directly ahead, while the entire interior was cast in a uniform dark palette. The lighting was so dim that one could barely make out the surroundings, and nothing more. A small number of tables were scattered around the bar, each one far away from the next.