Aelius, now "Kaelus," had a plan. He had his official mage card, which declared him a peak 4-star mage, and his new look—a man in his late twenties, with a lean and muscular build. But he lacked one crucial element of a legitimate adventurer: gear. Though his mana skin disguised his dragon scales and could easily act as armor, his inner child, a fan of fantasy from his past life as Kai, wanted to "cosplay" the part. He needed some proper equipment.
He decided to visit the local armory. The first one he saw, The Sovereign's Forge, looked grand and regal, a place clearly meant for nobles. The receptionist eyed him like a common beggar. A quick glance at the prices confirmed his suspicions; the cheapest item, a simple double-bladed knife, was over 5,000 gold coins. He immediately left.
Wandering down a narrow alley between the forge and a potion shop, he found a different kind of armory. The sign above the door read Grolnuk's Anvil & Ale. It was a small, unassuming stone building with a perpetually smudged window and the faint smell of stale ale and burning coal. He stepped inside.
The owner, Grolnuk Stoutbeard, was a surly dwarf with a braided, smoke-stained beard and calloused hands. He was working at a forge in the corner of the shop, his hammer ringing against a glowing piece of steel. The shop was a testament to his personality: messy, pragmatic, and focused entirely on function. Swords were stacked haphazardly, axes were propped up against the wall, and metal shavings littered the floor. There were no flashy gems or mirror-shined blades, but the quiet reputation of Grolnuk's wares was a legend among experienced adventurers. His weapons were perfectly balanced and his armor impossibly light, each piece infused with subtle magic from his hammering and dwarven bloodline.
Without looking up from his work, Grolnuk grunted, "Feel free to look. If you have the proper materials, I could even make you a customized one."
Kaelus walked over to the corner where a variety of swords were stacked. His gaze fell upon a unique two-bladed sword, and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. It reminded him of the anime he used to watch in his past life as Kai. A different thought, however, suddenly sparked in his mind. "How about a katana?"
Grolnuk looked at him, confused. "A 'ka-ta-na'? What's that?"
Kaelus took out a piece of paper and a charcoal stick, quickly sketching the unique curve of a katana—its single-edged blade, its elegant guard, its specific length.
Grolnuk's eyes narrowed as he studied the drawing. "This sword… the design makes it faster to wield and allows for quicker attacks with considerable force. But the design also means it would require two to three times the training of a regular sword. And I'd imagine it would be more fragile in exchange for its cutting power."
"No," Kaelus corrected him. "This design is sturdier than any regular sword." He then proceeded to explain the intricate art of katana-making, detailing the specific folding and tempering processes required to create a blade that was both incredibly sharp and unbelievably durable.
Grolnuk listened, stunned, his surly demeanor slowly replaced by an awestruck expression. "That's incredible," he muttered. "But a sword of this quality would require a vast amount of mana stone. It would be nearly impossible for even a seasoned adventurer to gather that much due to its scarcity."
Kaelus, with a flicker of a grin, reached into the backpack and, with a subtle use of his Dragon's Void, pulled out a massive mana stone—twice the size of Grolnuk's head. "Is this enough?"
Grolnuk's jaw dropped. "What? How? Where did you…?" The dwarf's confusion quickly dissolved into pure, unadulterated awe. "This is more than enough! I'll make you the finest sword that could cut through that gaudy armory next door! Hahaha!" He let out a booming, rumbling laugh, the sound echoing in the small shop as he contemptuously gestured toward The Sovereign's Forge.
Before Grolnuk could finish, Kaelus, with a subtle smirk, reached into his backpack. With a simple use of his Dragon's Void, he pulled out another massive mana stone, identical to the first. "This is the payment for your labor fee," he said, handing it to the dwarf.
Grolnuk's eyes widened. He nearly had a heart attack. Two such colossal mana stones in a single day? He had so many questions, but a flicker of fear and profound respect stopped him. He knew better than to offend this man in front of him. He simply took the stone, his hands trembling.
"It'll take seven days... no, six days," Grolnuk said, his voice filled with reverence. He knew this would become his finest masterpiece. "Come back then. And... keep patronizing my armory."
Aelius just nodded. "I will," he said, and left the shop.
After Aelius left, a thick silence settled in the dwarven smithy's corner. Grolnuk stared at the glowing, volatile chunk of mana stone resting on the anvil.
Madness. The dwarf's mind, trained by centuries of crushing, forging, and alloying heavy iron. Dwarven work was about force, about driving metal to submit. This—this was about persuasion.
Twelve folds. How could he fold a brittle crystal without activating the volatile magic inside? A traditional hammer blow would cause a catastrophic mana overload. The heat needed to soften the stone enough to be shaped would vaporize its essence.
If not heat, then pressure? He could attempt to compress the stone slowly, using a specialized hydraulic vice and dwarven runes etched into the surface to contain the mana. But that wouldn't achieve the alignment Kaelus spoke of. Alignment required movement, a flow.
A softer touch. If he couldn't use a hammer, he needed a vibrational rhythm. Could he use focused, channeled Earth mana from his own body to vibrate the stone, causing the crystal lattice to align and fold without physical impact? It would be slow, grueling work, asking his body to do the job of a machine, but it might preserve the mana flow.
The furnace is wrong. He couldn't use the intense, open fire. He needed a sealed, low-temperature environment—a deep forge chamber filled with superheated, inert gas that warmed the stone evenly without combustion.
Grolnuk looked at the fragile, glowing stone, then back at his powerful, calloused hands. He would invent a new way to fold a soul.