[25 — Forge? (2)]

Led by Cjorn, Sera and I headed into the back of the forge.

A massive gray cloth hung from the wall, thick enough that it looked like the sail of a ship from the Age of Exploration.

"Brace yourselves, brats. Don't go fainting when you see my collection."

When Cjorn put both hands on the cloth, I was caught off guard. I hadn't expected there to be a secret passage hidden right under my nose.

Flap!

"Voilà!" He yanked it away in one motion.

"..."

No secret door.

Just weapons hanging on the wall, hidden beneath the cloth.

"...So this is the pride of the great blacksmith Cjorn?" I muttered.

Not exactly how I imagined it, but still… the weapons didn't look half bad.

There were swords, daggers, knives, all sorts. They were clearly different from one another, but the carved details carried the same consistency. No doubt they'd all come from the same hand.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Cjorn pulled a small hammer out from under the table.

I wasn't the world's greatest weapons expert, so nothing I said could be taken as absolute truth. Still, even with my skepticism, I had to admit: the quality wasn't terrible.

"Eh… not bad."

Definitely better than the junk I got from the system.

"Tch, kids these days. Can't even recognize a fine weapon when they see one. But I can't blame you. You'll only understand once you touch them."

The hammer in his hand was odd. The tip had spaced-out teeth, clearly made for a specific purpose.

After a few seconds, it clicked. The patterns matched perfectly with the bases holding the weapons to the wall. That actually impressed me.

…As a blacksmith, he made a pretty damn good locksmith.

"Since you challenged me to lift one of your swords, I assume you won't mind if I test this one, right?" I ran a finger along a bluish blade near the knives.

"Hoh? You've got guts, boy. I'll give you some credit for not being afraid to stroke the blade of the VSNYAV."

"Vasn— what?"

"Step back. I'll release the seal of the forbidden blade." He shoved me aside.

…Honestly, I had no idea what to expect.

Tac!

He struck the hammer.

After four hits, the wall mount popped open, releasing the sword.

"Keuk—!" The bastard just tossed it into my chest.

"Ugh… is this how you treat your treasures?"

Anyway, up close, it truly was a beautiful piece. The hilt was ornate and comfortable to hold. The blade itself was a shimmering blue, reflective enough that I could almost see my own face in it.

"Hehe~"

Cjorn's smirk was disgusting, but this time I couldn't really argue. The so-called masterpiece actually lived up to the name.

"Cute…" I said with disdain.

"C-cute? You brat! How dare you call my masterpiece 'cute'?! Are you blind?!"

He took the bait.

"W-wait! Then take a look at this one: Veronika!" Cjorn reached for another, but I stopped him.

"No need, Cjorn. This one looks like the best you've got. If the others are all the same level, then they won't be much different." I paused. "Not exactly impressive, but maybe still good enough to open a few cans at home. So? What's your price?"

I'd followed all the steps my grandfather taught me about bargaining. Now all I had to do was reap the reward—

"Two gold coins."

"Oh, that's reasonable. Two gold... TWO GOLD?!"

Oi, oi! What kind of scam is that?! Two gold coins for a starter-town weapon? Ruru only gave me one silver. And with one gold worth ten silvers…

"You're insane! Two gold coins for some old hunk of iron that's been gathering dust on your wall?!"

He folded his arms and smirked.

"Say what you will, brat. I know exactly what this weapon's worth. And I'm not letting it go for less."

…Looks like I underestimated this bastard's pride. No chance I'd get him down through conventional haggling.

So… was it really time to do that?

"Ah… guess there's no other choice." I set the sword down on a crate.

"W-what are you doing?!"

I took a deep breath.

I focused all my attention on the air filling my lungs which—by the way—was quite a lot, thanks to all those grueling training sessions with Ruru.

I stepped back slowly, keeping my feet perfectly aligned. The trick was not letting my weight shift too much to one side.

I exhaled as I raised one leg. My foot slid along the inside of my shin, all balance centered.

"M-mmph…" Cjorn looked stunned. But I couldn't blame him. It's not every day you get to witness a true professional at work.

I raised both arms above my head in the shape of a heart and, at last:

"HUMILIATING EXCHANGE!!!"

"..."

Cjorn and Sera gave me the exact same judgmental look.

…Damn you, system! One day, I'll pay you back for this.

A small window appeared above the blacksmith's head:

[The price of humiliation has been paid. Here is your reward:
NAME: CJORN
LEVEL: (?)
CLASS: BLACKSMITH
RACE: HUMAN
SECRET: Despite being married, Cjorn has secretly been having affairs with his clients for the past ten years.]

So you're the adventurous type, huh, old man? Looks like those ten years without forging weapons and your… 'extracurriculars' are connected somehow.

"What the hell was that, brat? You think your little clown act's gonna make me lower the price? If so, quit it! It won't work on me.

My face was still a bit red from my performance.

"Hum?"

Sera tugged at my sleeve.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes were enough. They were the eyes of someone looking down on me. The eyes of someone already counting her victory in our bet.

Then it hit me.

Heh… seeing that brat gave me a stroke of genius. Maybe the heavens hadn't abandoned me after all.

"Come, Sera." I grabbed her hand. "Looks like we won't get anything from your dad. Might as well go straight to his wife instead."

I started walking toward the door.

Sera looked confused but stayed true to her promise of keeping quiet.

One… two… three… fou—

"Wait! WAIT!" Cjorn jumped in front of us.

"W-what's wrong, Cjorn? Why are you acting like this?"

"Y-you! Repeat what you just said!"

I put a finger to my chin.

"I said we're not getting anywhere here—"

"Not that! The second part! You called me her dad! You out of your mind?!"

There it is… the guilt in your eyes, plain as day.

"M-mph, impossible… She doesn't even look old enou—"

He cut himself short. No doubt his brain made the same connection mine had: no matter how you looked at her, Sera looked ten years old.

"Th-those red hairs… You're Rosalind's daughter?!"

He staggered closer.

"It's been so long… c-could it really be true?"

Cold sweat rolled down his face.

"Well, now that you know, step aside. We'll be leaving the city soon, and I thought we could get a sword to defend ourselves with. But… I guess we'll just have to ask your wi—"

"What're you saying? Hahaha! Who said I wouldn't help you?! You're leaving town? Is that it? Why go to her when you can settle everything with me here? Come, come, let's take another look at what I've got in the back."

Sera and I exchanged a glance…

Kuku.

The plan had been a complete success.