The pale light of dawn crept over the mountains, signaling the start of a new day.
The smell of roasted meat filled the courtyard of Blackcrag Keep.
For the first time in years, the peasants weren't looking at the ground. They were tearing into the charred, tough flesh of the Frost Wolves, their faces smeared with grease and soot. They ate with a voracious energy, their eyes darting toward the figure sitting on the steps of the ruined Keep.
Dante didn't eat. He was busy.
He sat with the Alpha Wolf's Mana Core in his hand. It was a jagged, blue crystal the size of a fist, pulsing with a faint, cold light.
[Item: Tier 1 Frost Core][Energy Density: Low.][Usage: Can be consumed by Mages to increase mana pool.][System Usage: Convert to 500 Energy Points? (Y/N)]
"Convert," Dante muttered.
The crystal dissolved into motes of blue light that were sucked into his chest.
[Energy Restored: 505/1000.][System Functionality: 50%.][Blueprint Store: Online.]
Dante scrolled through the holographic menu. He had the Black Powder formula, but he lacked the sulfur and saltpeter. He needed a supply chain. He needed infrastructure.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound of a heavy bell ringing from the broken gate shattered the morning peace.
The peasants froze, mid-bite. Kaelen, who had been distributing the meat, dropped his knife, his face paling beneath the soot.
"Riders," Kaelen whispered. "The Red Vipers."
Dante stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. "Who?"
"Baron Voss's men," Kaelen stammered. "Our neighbor to the South. They... they usually come to collect 'protection fees' from the mines. But the mines have been empty for years."
Dante walked to the gate. "Let them in."
"My Lord! They will take the food! They will—"
"I said," Dante's voice was calm, "let them in. I need to see what we are up against."
The gate groaned open. Five horsemen rode into the courtyard.
They were impressive, at least superficially. They wore crimson cloaks over polished iron breastplates. The leader, a man with a scar running down his cheek, rode a warhorse that had flames snorting from its nostrils—a magical beast variant.
The leader looked around the courtyard, sneering at the soot-covered peasants and the piles of wolf bones.
"Well, well," the leader drawled. "We heard a massive explosion last night. Thought the old ruin had finally collapsed on itself."
His eyes landed on Dante. He didn't bow.
"You must be the Exile," the leader spat the word. "I am Ser Garret. Baron Voss sends his regards."
Dante didn't blink. [Scan Initiated.]
A crimson grid swept over Ser Garret.
[Target: Ser Garret (Level 5 Swordsman)][Equipment: Iron Breastplate (Low Quality), Steel Longsword (Forged: 40% Purity).][Threat Level: Moderate.][Weakness: Left knee joint. Ego.]
"State your business," Dante said, his voice bored.
Garret's eye twitched. He wasn't used to cripples speaking to him like equals.
"Taxes," Garret announced. "Your brother, the Duke, stopped paying the maintenance fee for the Southern Road. Since you are the new Lord of Blackcrag, the debt falls to you."
"I have no gold," Dante said.
"We know," Garret grinned, his eyes shifting to the massive pelt of the Alpha Wolf drying on a rack nearby. "But that is a Tier 1 Frost Wolf pelt. And that..." He pointed to the pile of mana cores Dante had harvested from the smaller wolves. "...is a nice pile of crystals."
Garret drew his sword. It gleamed in the sunlight.
"We'll take the loot as payment. And the meat. The Baron's dogs eat better than these rats."
The peasants whimpered, backing away.
Garret kicked his horse forward, heading straight for the pile of cores.
"Stop," Dante said.
Garret laughed. "Or what? You'll cast a spell at me? Oh, wait. You can't."
He swung his sword playfully, aiming to knock Dante aside with the flat of the blade.
Dante didn't move. He watched the blade coming.
[Trajectory Calculated.][Intercept Point: 0.4 seconds.]
Dante stepped forward—not away. He moved inside the swing range.
With a movement too precise to be luck, Dante's hand shot out and grabbed the crossguard of Garret's sword, stopping the swing dead before it built momentum.
Garret froze. He tried to pull the sword back, but Dante's grip was like a vice.
"Let go, cripple!" Garret roared, channeling mana into his arms to overpower him.
Dante looked at the sword.
"This blade," Dante said loudly, "was forged at a low temperature. The carbon distribution is uneven."
"What are you babbling about?" Garret pulled harder.
Dante looked Garret in the eye. "It means your steel is trash."
Dante raised his other hand. He held a heavy, jagged rock—a piece of dense iron ore he had picked up earlier.
He didn't hit Garret. He hit the sword.
He struck the blade about four inches from the hilt—the stress point the System had highlighted.
PING.
The sound was sharp and high-pitched.
The "fine" steel sword snapped cleanly in two. The top half of the blade spun through the air and embedded itself in the snow.
Silence descended on the courtyard.
Garret stared at the broken hilt in his hand, his mouth hanging open. His men gasped. To break a sword with a rock? That was impossible unless... unless the breaker possessed immense strength?
Dante tossed the rock aside. He didn't have immense strength. He just understood metallurgy.
"Your equipment is pathetic," Dante said, dusting off his hands. "Tell Baron Voss that if he wants taxes, he can come collect them himself. But tell him to bring better steel. I have no use for scrap metal."
Garret's face turned purple. He reached for a dagger, but he stopped.
He looked at Dante's cold, dead eyes. He looked at the shattered sword. And he remembered the explosion from the night before.
Something is wrong, Garret's instincts screamed. This isn't a cripple.
"You... you made a mistake, Exile," Garret hissed, wheeling his horse around. "The Baron will hear of this. He will bring an army. He will burn this rat's nest to the ground!"
"Let him come," Dante said. "I need the practice."
Garret signaled his men. They rode out of the gate, casting fearful glances back at the Lord who broke steel with a stone.
As the heavy wooden doors slammed shut, Kaelen rushed forward, looking terrified.
"My Lord! Are you mad? Baron Voss has fifty knights! He has a Siege Mage! We have... we have nothing!"
Dante turned to the pile of "trash" coal and the broken sword blade in the snow. "Kaelen," he asked, ignoring the panic. "How far is Voss's stronghold?"
"About a hundred kilometers south," Kaelen stammered. "Through the Heavy Snow Pass."
"A hundred kilometers," Dante muttered, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Heavy cavalry in snow moves at thirty kilometers a day. Plus one day to mobilize supplies and gather the men."
He turned to the peasants, his eyes burning with a crimson light.
"We have three days," Dante calculated. "That's exactly how long we have before they knock on our door."
"Kaelen, tear down the stable. I need the wood."
"For what, my Lord?"
Dante pulled up a new blueprint on his HUD.
[Blueprint Selected: Primitive Blast Furnace.][Blueprint Selected: Matchlock Arquebus (Rifle).]
"We are entering the Iron Age," Dante said. "And I'm going to teach Baron Voss why knights don't charge at gunlines."