"Mind explaining why he hates you?" I asked with a raised eyebrow, watching the tension practically crackle in the air between Kayda and Steve like lightning ready to strike.
"Well…" Kayda started, scratching the back of her neck with a sheepish look.
"That's nothing for your ears, young Stacy," Steve interrupted sharply, his gruff voice rising above hers as he continued to glare at Kayda like she was some kind of persistent roach he couldn't squash.
"Hmm," Kayda hummed nonchalantly, clearly not affected, and shrugged at me as if to say, "We'll talk later."
"Now come, young Stacy. Tell me a little about why you are here. Let's go to my office. And you—go away." Steve added, flicking his hand at Kayda like she was a fly in his forge.
"Alright, alright. See you later, Kitsu," Kayda said, walking over and planting a soft kiss on my lips before heading out. Her steps were light, but I could tell by the little twitch in her tail that she wasn't thrilled.
"I know you two have bad blood, but is it really necessary to throw her out like that?" I said as I turned back to Steve, frowning slightly.
"That is between the two of us, not you, little Stacy," the dwarf replied firmly, leaving no room for further discussion. His stance was final, like a boulder blocking the road.
"Sigh, whatever. Having you help me is better than trying to fix some ancient grudge," I muttered in defeat, shaking my head.
"Now come. Let's go talk in my workshop," Steve said, turning on his heel and walking into the back of his shop without waiting.
"Not the office?" I asked, confused but already following him.
"No," was all he said, his voice dry.
"Right," I hummed, glancing back at the disappointed clerk who had been eavesdropping with open curiosity but now shuffled away back to the counter.
"Come in. We don't have that much time," Steve called from ahead, already half-hidden in the dim lighting of his cluttered workshop.
"So, how much did my mother say about all this?" I asked as I stepped in, looking around. The place was chaotic in an organized way—tools hung on every wall, scraps of metal and raw ores littered worktables, and everything smelled of smoke and steel.
"You want to make powerful weapons with ice. That was about it," Steve replied with a shrug, moving toward a table where a few familiar items were laid out.
"Well, I do want to make useful, proper weapons with my ice. Like actual, reliable gear. Not that temporary nonsense."
"Hmm. Your mom brought me this," Steve said, picking up the mangled remains of my ice staff—the same one I'd used to beat the crap out of a devil child not too long ago.
"Oh, that thing? Mom brought it with her? I thought it shattered ages ago."
"She told me you were able to throw a level 700 devil child around like it was a ragdoll with this," Steve said, squinting at the object as if it offended him on a molecular level.
"Uh, well... yes," I admitted, awkwardly scratching my cheek.
"But you were pouring mana into it the entire time to keep it from breaking, weren't you?" Steve asked, narrowing one eye and glaring at me like a teacher who already knew you failed the test.
"Yes. If I hadn't, it would've crumbled in one hit," I confessed, rubbing the back of my hand with mild shame.
"Yeah, no shit," he said before abruptly pressing down on the staff with one hand. It disintegrated instantly—shattered into billions of glittering pieces.
"That looked far too easy," I said, slightly annoyed by how casually he destroyed it.
"It was easy," he said with a scoff.
"Haha... great."
"Make a sword," Steve ordered, folding his arms across his chest with a frown.
"Okay," I said, nodding and forming a broadsword in my hand out of ice and raw mana. The blade gleamed with an unnatural cold glow, its edges sharp and symmetrical.
"Sigh... you want to learn how to make weapons from me, right?" Steve asked with a long, worn breath.
"Yes, I believed that was clear," I said, tilting my head slightly.
"It is obvious. I'm just confused why you want to learn from a blacksmith specifically," he said, rubbing his face in clear frustration.
"Why is that confusing? You're a Smith King," I said, a little irritated now.
"You're making it out of magic, girl. Not metal," Steve said, pointing at my ice sword like it was a failed science experiment.
"Can't I just replace the metal with ice? I don't really see the difference," I replied, tapping the blade with my knuckle—it made a solid metallic ting.
"There is a big difference, and there also isn't," Steve said cryptically, his gaze still fixed on the blade.
"Can we not do riddles, please?"
"Sigh. There's a big difference between solid mana and metal, girl," Steve said, now looking genuinely serious.
"..."
"Creating a weapon out of mana is ten times harder than forging one the old-fashioned way," he said bluntly.
"Ah. So it wouldn't have helped. Damn, I thought this might make it easier," I said, disappointed.
"Whoa, whoa. I didn't say I can't help you improve your weapons."
"But you just said—"
"It's just that your original thoughts were wrong. But I've got an idea," Steve said, scanning me from head to toe like he was reading a blueprint only he could see.
"Oh? Let's hear it," I said, perking up a little.
"First, give me that sword."
"Okay?" I said, handing it over.
"Ah, like I thought. You really did make it flexible," Steve said, bending the blade like it was a rubber stick.
"Well, it helped prevent it from snapping so easily..."
"Yeah? You dumb girl," he said, giving me a deadpan look.
"Sigh... no need to be that blunt, old man," I said, my cheeks burning slightly.
"You made ice flexible. That's counterproductive. Ice is strong because it's rigid. The harder it is, the more pressure it can take. But we'll fix that later. Now, here. Take your shitty sword and try to cut this," Steve said, dragging a thick, shimmering block of adamite onto the table.
"There is no way I'll be able to cut through adamite with this," I said, pointing at my sword with skepticism.
"Of course not, with a weapon like that."
"So what now?"
"I said, cut it. Don't worry if it breaks. I want to check something," Steve said, gesturing firmly.
"Okay?" I raised the sword and brought it down with all the force I could manage. It shattered on impact, pieces scattering like confetti.
"Hmm. Like I thought. Not even a dent," Steve said, inspecting the adamite, completely unfazed.
"So now what? Are you going to show me something that can actually cut it?" I asked, arms crossed.
"Yes," Steve said simply. Then, with a smooth movement, he formed a blade of pure raw mana in his hand. No elements, no tricks. Just focused will. He brought it down in a clean, effortless arc—and the adamite split like warm cheese.
"What!?" I exclaimed, mouth open.
"I'm a Forge King for a reason, girl," Steve said, grinning just a little.
"I see… So when you forge, you make the weapon's core out of mana, then add the metal afterward?" I asked, watching his weapon fade away.
"You catch on fast. That's exactly how we do it. But this kind of forging is rare—even for people like me. It's taxing. I can't do it often."
"Were the weapons you gave me years ago like that?"
"Oh hell no! Do you have any idea how many swords I gave you? I'd be dead, and this kingdom would be bankrupt. These weapons are called demigod swords for a reason. I can only make one of them a year, and that's pushing it."
"Oh. I see. Would it be possible for me to do it, though?"
"I don't know. But honestly... I think it is."
"Oh? So you showed me all this to test me, didn't you?"
"Hahaha, yeah. Just think about it. You're the first weapon sage ever. I don't think it's impossible for you," Steve said, his grin stretching wider.
"Haha, okay, I get it. Then I'll buy ten blocks of adamite for now," I said, beaming with excitement.
"I'll get that ready for you. Just remember—the first step is using only raw mana. No elements. Start with the core," Steve said, already digging through crates for my order.
"Alright. Hey—how about we make a deal?"
"A deal?" Steve paused and glanced back at me.
"Yeah. If I can make a mana weapon and cut through one block of adamite, you make me your assistant for your next demigod sword. I want to see the whole process, from start to finish."
"That'll take a whole month, you know," Steve said, eyeing me with a raised brow.
"So? If I can pop out a demigod sword every other month after learning it, I'll call that a win."
"You... you're serious about that?" Steve asked, sounding stunned.
"Of course. As a primordial and the first weapon sage, I have to live up to the hype, right?" I said this while flashing him a manic grin.
"Whahahahaha! You have two weeks."
"Deal!"
"It's a deal. Keep at it, missy!" The Forge King laughed, mimicking my grin with one of his own.
"Before I go, show me your mana weapon again. I need to study it."
"Fine by me," Steve said, summoning another glowing mana blade.
"Hmm... so it's like that. Damn. I'll have to go back to Kayda's training schedule again," I muttered, rubbing my chin.
"Good luck, missy. Get the rest of your blocks at the front. I'll see you in two weeks!" Steve called, already walking back to his forge.
"I'll be back. Thanks, old man," I said, waving as I left.
[15 minutes later]
"You're already back? It hasn't even been an hour," Mom said, spotting me walk through the mansion's front doors.
"Oh, hey, Mom. You're already leaving?"
"No, not yet. What's that in your hand?" she asked, pointing to the block I was carrying.
"Ah, this? It's an adamite block," I said, hoisting it up for her to see.
"Why do you have that? And why are you carrying it like that?"
"To cut it, of course," I said with a grin, enjoying the confusion on her face.
"Mind explaining?"
"Nope. You'll have to wait until the tournament."
"Hmm... okay. If you can make demigod weapons by then, I'll give you a present," Mom said, holding out her arms for a hug.
"Hehe. Of course, you knew. Okay, it's a deal," I said, wrapping my arms around her.
"Okay. See you later then."
"Okay," I said, waving as I headed toward the training ground, already brimming with ideas.