Chapter 3 — Sparks of Pride and Nobility

The bell above the forge door jingled, slicing through the hum of hammering and fire. Kai glanced up from the steel he was shaping. Two youths strutted in — impeccably dressed, finely polished boots, embroidery glinting in the forge light. Their posture alone screamed privilege.

“I am ,Lucien Veythar heir to the House of ,” Veythar the taller one announced, voice sharp and arrogant. “This is my sister, Serenya Veythar. Your forge will craft a blade for us — free of charge.”

Kai’s fingers froze over the hammer. Emerald eyes beneath the hood narrowed.

Old Man Ray’s pipe paused mid-puff. “…Excuse me?”

Lucien’s grin widened. “Surely a smith of your renown would be honored. Making a blade for the Veythars will bring prestige to your little shop.”

Ray’s jaw tightened. “Prestige? You think I trade my steel for flattery?”

Serenya tilted her head, silver eyes cold. “You should consider your reputation, old man. Refuse us, and…”

Lucien raised a hand subtly, the faint glimmer of basic magic crackling at his fingertips. “Or perhaps some… persuasion?”

Ray slammed his hammer down on the anvil. Sparks flew. “…Kid, help me with this, then watch and learn. And keep your mouth shut.”

Kai’s hand went to the blade he was forging — but not in aggression. Instead, he traced the rough outline of a symbol onto the edge. Something only he knew the meaning of. His personal mark. One day, every weapon he made would carry it.

Ray stepped forward, voice like iron. “Listen. I do not work for nobility. I work for adventurers. Guild members. People who risk life and limb. Now, take your magic elsewhere before I toss you out.”

Lucien’s grin faltered. “And you? Just a child… your own shop small, nothing compared to our family’s influence.”

Kai’s emerald eyes flickered briefly toward him. “…Influence isn’t power. Not where it matters. Survival is.”

Serenya crossed her arms. “…Arrogant child.”

Ray’s laugh was sharp and dry. “Arrogance? Look in a mirror, girl. You don’t walk into my shop and demand free work unless you’re trying to get your teeth kicked in. Take it to another smith if you want. Plenty would lick your boots for coin.”

Cedric’s hand twitched, magic brimming again, but Ray shook his head. “Guild rules forbid interfering with trades between smiths and adventurers. And you’re not one. You’re not getting my steel here.”

With a grunt, the Veythars turned and swept out, muttering threats under their breath. Kai watched them leave, thoughts cold. Nobility… nothing but arrogance with status baked in.

As the forge returned to its usual rhythm, Kai thought quietly:

Barons at the bottom, mostly ceremonial.

Dukes and counts held sway over lands and soldiers.

Viscounts like the Halenvalls wielded influence in cities.

Marquises could command regions.

Princes and princesses acted as the king’s deputies.

And royalty… the king and queen, the final word.

Every family had a last name. Every rank carried expectations, privileges, and arrogance. None deserved trust by default.

Kai smirked beneath his hood. Not power. Survival. Knowledge. Steel. That was enough.

Kai returned to his workbench, hammering the steel carefully. With each strike, he refined his personal symbol along the spine of the blade. It was small, subtle — a mark only he would recognize. Someday, every weapon he made would carry it. A signature not of vanity, but of identity.

Ray glanced over the glowing steel. “You’re thinking about what, brat?”

Kai wiped sweat from his brow. “…Darius and Lira.”

Ray nodded, understanding. “Smart. They don’t kneel to nobility, follow their own code… just like you.”

Kai adjusted his mask, emerald eyes focused. “…I don’t care about power. Only survival. And… maybe having allies who know how to survive.”

Ray grinned faintly. “Ha. Well, if you do decide to walk that path, you’ve got my blessing. Just… don’t go making a mess without me knowing. My forge’s reputation is still on the line.”

Kai said nothing, but inside, he considered it. Joining their party might mean better access to information, adventure… and survival.

As the sun dipped lower over Drakensport, Kai glanced out at the busy streets. Adventurers passed by, all ranks mingling under the guild rules.

Some high-ranked adventurers were arrogant, bullying lower-ranked ones.

Black Rank adventurers loomed like untouchable shadows, bound only by guild constraints.

Most nobles were flashy and entitled, taking what they thought was theirs.

A few, rare ones, were genuinely generous… but trust? Kai didn’t give it.

Ray poured a mug of tea and slid it across the counter. “For all your reading and thinking, kid… don’t forget. The world’s only fair to those ready to fight for themselves.”

Kai lifted the mug, eyes calm and distant. “…I know.”

The forge glowed as steel cooled. Sparks danced in the shadows. Somewhere deep inside, Kai’s path was already forming — one forged not by nobility, not by rank, but by himself.