The sounds of a hammer and anvil reverberated throughout the town center. As metal hit metal, a satisfying ding rang out like a bell at regular intervals. I made my way out of the inn and followed the noise to its source.
The building was small and crafted mostly from stone. The heat and sound emanating from the entrance made clear that I was at the right place. I glanced inside to find an old man hard at work. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice me entering the workshop. Whatever he was working on seemed important, so I let him finish as I browsed the many pieces he had on display.
The walls and many racks in the shop were lined with a diverse range of tools. Most of them were benign tools used for farming or culinary ware, but there was a small collection of weapons as well. Although they were few in number, the diversity of weapons made up for it. There was almost any length of sword I could think of and the craftsmanship seemed above average as well. I wasn't a blade expert or anything, but I had seen at least hundreds of blades since my reincarnation. Even an idiot could tell that the man's talent was wasted rotting away in a place most people couldn't even find on a map.
There were a few pieces that caught my eye, but in the end they were only slightly better than my current blade and the upgrade wouldn't warrant the cost. My spatix was a fine piece, but its maker had almost taken the material to its limit. It was doubtful that any other steel piece could have led to a better blade. If I truly wanted an upgrade, then I would need to look for rarer metals.
Rare metals like mithril and orichalcum not only strengthened a blade, but had better mana affinity which came with a host of benefits. When a blade master reached a high level of proficiency with their weapon, it became like an extension of their body. Because of this, skilled martial artists could infuse mana into their blades like it was a part of their own body. The increase in power granted to the blade would only be limited by the strength of its user and the quality of its metal. Furthermore, if the metal was high enough quality, the piece itself could be forged into an artifact, bearing a spell engraved upon it.
I was deep in thought admiring one of the blades when I noticed the ringing had stopped. "We don't get a lot of swordsmen around here son, those are mostly for design." The man approached, eyeing me up and down. Upon closer inspection, his age did not seem to hinder his toned body, only his hair and wrinkles had fallen victim to the inexorable march of time. "They're not for sale?" I asked curiously. I had no intention of purchasing any of them, but it seemed like an awful lot of work and material for just eye candy.
"Of course they're for sale. Well, most of them anyway. But, it would be a waste to sell any of those pieces to some amateur or spoiled noble. I won't sell them to some kid looking for cheap thrills either, so if you haven't any other business here then run along boy." He addressed me with an impatient tone. It didn't harbor any anger, but lacked patience all the same.
"I wasn't looking to buy. Do you take maintenance requests by chance?" I unsheathed my spatix and handed it to the man. He squinted for some time, studying the edge, before he looked up at me with a suspicious gaze. "Where did you get this, boy? You shouldn't go robbing corpses, it will bring more trouble than it's worth, you know?" He replied. "I didn't steal it. I was hoping the edge would last more than 2 years, but the cracks are starting to show." I rebuffed his accusation.
"Look kid, I can fix it for you, but in this state it wouldn't be worth the trouble. Whoever's blade this is should really just consider a new one. The edge is all bent and the steel has become too malleable." The man appraised the sword. "I thought it might be beyond saving, can you work with mithril?" I asked the man rhetorically. Given the caliber of his craftsmanship, it was doubtful he couldn't, but I still found it strange that none of his pieces were crafted from it. "Hah, you must be joking. Kids your age should be practicing with a wooden sword, what could you possibly need a mithril blade for?" He asked, waiting for me to retract, but he soon realized I wasn't kidding.
"You're serious?!... Of course I can work with the stuff, but I haven't been able to get a hold of it in the last 3 years. Ever since the adventurer's guild in Rapforth shut down, I haven't been able to reach the depths necessary to mine the stuff." He explained, quick to defend his pride as a blacksmith. "If I can get you close enough to mine the stuff, would you consider a mithril blade fair as compensation?" I proposed the offer to the man. "Money isn't the problem, kid. That mine isn't a game you know? How could I trust some kid I just met with my life?" He explained. It was a fair question. If I had been in his position, I wouldn't have trusted myself either. I hadn't even turned 15 yet, and even if I had been raised in a noble family, it was doubtful that I would've had any real combat experience outside of a training ground.
"What if I told you I could cast up to tier 3 spells?" I asked rhetorically. It wasn't entirely a lie, just not the full truth. While showing him 4th grade magic probably would've made him feel more secure, I didn't want to risk the attention it would draw. 4th grade magic alone was rare, and given my current age, I would seem more like a monster than a prodigy. I didn't want to alarm the man, and 3rd grade magic was more than impressive enough.
"By the gods, I've never heard more hornswoggle in my life before. But fine, I'll humor you. If you aren't full of shit then you've got yourself a deal, but as soon as you fail, I want you out of my face." The aged man offered to my surprise. I led him outside and some distance away from town. He grumbled as the venture became more time consuming then he had bargained for, but it was already a sunk cost. I didn't mean to piss him off, but I had good reason to move so far away. The spell I intended to show him was loud, and I did not intend to show it to the entire village. When we had reached a comfortable distance, I stepped off the road and into the grassy plains.
"Finally, I was about to start charging you for my time, lad. This better not be for nothing." He spoke with annoyance. "Sorry, but I didn't want to disturb the town. I could've shown you something less flashy, but what would a layman like you know about magic? Those who don't understand the complexities of magic are only impressed by its destructive power." I explained to the grumpy old man. He looked like he wanted to rebut, but he probably couldn't find any flaw in my argument.
Before his patience grew any thinner I began my chant accompanied by a flurry of hand signs. The whole spectacle was meaningless to me, but I thought it was best to keep up the appearances of a mage. While silent casting was not uncommon on the Isle of Mist, it still took a great deal of time and effort to learn. It was bound to draw more unwanted attention, and I wasn't sure how uncommon it was on the mainland. As an assassin, I simply had different priorities than a mage of the empire, so silent casting was bound to be more rare outside of the Mist.
"...come forth, fireflies!" I finished my performance and activated my spell in the air, careful not to ignite the grass. Fireflies was a 3rd grade spell that consisted of the fire element residing on a 2 dimensional matrix. It spawned several small orbs of fire that could be controlled by the caster and detonated at will to create small, but powerful explosions.
The small red orbs danced in the sky at my command before exploding one by one with a thunderous boom. With each explosion, the man winced and covered his ears. He seemed in both a state of shock and fear. It wasn't long before silence returned to the plains and all that could be heard was a faint ringing in my ears. I expected him to say something but he just froze for a moment. "So do we have a deal?" I broke the silence, drawing the man out of his state of shock. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me. Sure you got yourself a deal kid, but just tell me one thing, Who are you?" He responded. I mulled over the best way to answer him, but in the end I decided an alias was best. "The name's Brutus." I offered him my hand in introduction. He promptly clasped my wrist as was customary in the empire and returned my greeting. "They call me John, nice to meet you." The man replied in kind.
Soon after, we headed back to John's shop to finalize the details of the job. The task was simple yet fraught with many dangers. I had learned from John that the old mine of Travelm was abandoned by its previous owner for financial and safety concerns. The upper levels had been mostly picked clean, and although many rare deposits still resided on the lower levels, mining the nodes had become increasingly dangerous. The deeper the shaft went, the stronger and more numerous monsters became. It was the combination of decreasing safety and dwindling resources that made the once present large scale mining operation unsustainable. It wasn't that they had lacked the resources to hire powerful security, but simply that doing so would not have led to a profitable outcome. In other words, there was still a quick buck to make since our small expedition would attract less attention.
The details of the job were simple. I was to escort John in and out of the mine while he gathered whatever resources he felt necessary. We were to leave the next morning and return no later than the first nightfall. It was a simple in and out job. And for my trouble, I would receive a mithril sword per my specifications and a 2 gold in addition. The gold was a last minute addition in the negotiations by myself. Despite John's protest, he eventually accepted the terms begrudgingly. It was the first chance he had in years to get his hands on some real precious metals, and although 2 gold was nothing to scoff at, he would surely make more than triple it on the return. For me the gold merely served as insurance to make sure my funds lasted till the end of the month. It also would provide me with several more options when planning my eventual return to Rapforth.
Having ironed out all the details, I took my leave. We had agreed to meet back up at John's shop the next morning, and I had plenty of daylight left to consume. I spent the rest of the day exercising as had become my routine. Despite the temptation to relax, I knew a lapse in physique wouldn't go unnoticed by master Korbyn. Even if it did, it would serve me no purpose. Running, push-ups, sit-ups, and more, would all serve to maintain the stamina and strength necessary to survive. There was no rest for me in this world, at least until the Mist had been eliminated. On earth, I had rested enough for both of my lives, and now the god of work had come to collect my debt.
When all but the last ray of sunshine had left me, I returned to the inn. After dinner, laundry, and a bath, I headed to sleep. With a comfortable and familiar soreness in my muscles, I drifted off to my dreamscape once again. Back into the battle I feared more than any the coming expedition could offer. It was a silent plane of existence, yet a battle still. I never knew a silent night could be so loud.