Chapter 118: The Noble's Gambit

*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Kingdom of Satar, Capital City Parthanon*

"What the hell is a witness stone?" Demir asked. His eyes passed over the other prizes. Along with an overpowered all-stat bonus stone, they were offering many different things to help those below level fifty.

Marco adjusted his glasses. "It used to be very cheap. It gives you a day's worth of a certain build. Let's say you want to try what it's like to be a mage. You would have bought a level forty mage stone and tried it for a day. But..."

Marven frowned. "It should be useless. Why would I need to be a different build for a day when I have no control over it?"

Demir shook his head. "One day is one day. If we'd had one, we could have used it on our weakest at Safe Hollow to protect the walls."

Marco waved his hand. "Anyway, don't fret on that."

Their house owner had again ordered too much food. Alef and Lysara were still bringing the dishes to the table.

The guest house had turned into a debate hall. Alef and Lysara complained that there weren't very promising rewards for the general tournament and suggested they leave early. But Demir, Marco, and Marven wanted to stay to earn money and for the below-level-fifty tournament.

Demir looked at the flyer again. "So if I win, I can't get a witness stone? Wait, Ember had one. I remember a diamond-shaped thing."

Alef nodded. "Yeah, NPC races have an ability. If they're cloned from the machine, they can hold and change their build with the stone. For us, it's useless."

Their argument lasted more than an hour. In the end, Alef and Lysara decided they would take an expedition to nearby towns until the tournament started.

---

The next day, Demir and Marco went to their forge. Before Marven split off to sell the remaining three expensive swords, Demir asked her not to bring cheap repair jobs anymore. They were past that now.

From the remaining iron sheets, Demir forged three chest pieces, but two were ruined during the rune etching for vitality.

Marco sighed. "This is barely worth a gold."

While they were finishing their piled-up cheap repairs, three of the neighbor local elven smiths entered. They were tall and slender, with the pointed ears and ageless faces of their kind.

One of them spoke first. "Is it true you made four swords with runes etched in a day?"

Demir answered like it was the most mundane thing in the world. "Yeah."

Another smith, with silver-streaked hair, stepped forward. "Yourius, wait." He turned to Demir. "You're a player, right? Do you know some glitch we don't? How can you make runes without botching?"

Demir shrugged. "I don't know any glitch, and one was botched." He pointed at the cracked sword in the corner. "My master was good, though. And..."

The one called Yourius leaned in. "And...?"

"I kind of know my mistakes. I cannot explain it, but making a good sword has become my second nature. Etching a rune was the hardest part, but Master Durnak taught me thinking exercises. Those made me better."

The taller elven smith's eyes went wide. "Surely you don't mean the legendary dwarven smith Durnak. He taught you how to forge weapons and make runes?"

Demir hesitated to give the information, but in the end, he nodded.

Yourius looked stunned. "How? My father and my uncles tell the story of them visiting him at least three times, but he never took anyone as an apprentice outside his circle."

Demir smiled slightly. "Well, I had a couple of friends who helped change his mind."

The lengthy elf muttered, "Lucky bastard."

Yourius crossed his arms. "You're going to drive our prices into the dirt."

"I won't. I'll leave the city after the tournament."

"Huh, tournament. Another lowlander. Make way, you dirty smiths!"

A man entered. He was dressed in golden ornaments over his ceremonial armor, wearing different embroideries on his belt. His golden hair waved perfectly, not a strand out of place. He moved with the entitled grace of someone who had never been told no in his life.

"Make way for my lord!" Two guards put their hands on the elven smiths to push them aside for the noble elf.

The noble spoke with a voice that expected immediate obedience. "My name is Frolin Stamond. I am third cousin to the Emperor. I need these blades to be sharpened and these enchantments added." He left a pair of perfect-looking twin daggers and several beads on the counter.

Demir examined the beads. They looked like holograms, but when he touched them, they had real weight. He couldn't understand where the sensation of weight and touch was coming from.

Frolin looked down at Demir. "Are you the new smith who brought fresh perspective to the market?"

"I... I... mean..."

Marco intervened smoothly. "Yes, your highness, he is."

"These old, talentless smiths ruined so many of our enchantment beads. If you enchant these without ruining my blades, I'll give you ten gold for the pair. I'll also send quite the traffic from my community."

Demir swallowed. "I... I'll try, your highness."

"Excellent. Augustus, take care of the rest. Make the contract binding. If you ruin my blades, I will take everything you own." With that, he left the crowded small workshop.

Demir's heart sank. "Wait, what? Ruin... take everything?"

Yourius snorted. "Huh, you shouldn't have agreed. It's his way of scamming hard workers. Somehow he has unlimited lesser beads of enchantments and keeps trying to fool everyone into taking the job."

The lengthy elven smith added, "Well, we all fell for it back in the day. Don't worry. If you wait a couple of days and return it, saying you couldn't do it, he can't force you."

Demir sighed with relief. But he was also curious. Adding new things to his swords was something he needed to learn.

---

He started looking through his book, the one Master Durnak had given him. At the second to last page, Master Durnak had written: "Bead enchanting is an elven invention and must be kept far away from equipment." He had also added at the corner: "Years later, tried it with a fellow elven master and achieved excellent results."

But the note cut off there. There was no explanation of how to do it.

All evening and night, Demir looked at the beads the elven noble had given him. He tried to make sense of how to embed them into equipment. He held them, waiting for inspiration. Sat on them. Rolled them. But the holographic beads held their shape and didn't give Demir any hint.

Finally, he decided to wear the system-showing glasses. Thanks to Marco's glasses, Demir actually understood everything he created and its value. Without them, he wouldn't have understood so quickly his advancements or shortcomings.

The glasses indicated the beads as: D grade, 2% damage increase.

The blades he'd been given also weren't much better quality. Other than their aesthetic beauty, they were only C grade. Apparently, the other smiths' accusations were correct about Frolin scamming smiths with valueless pieces.

But it was also an amazing challenge and a way to advance. If he could find actually good beads and learn to incorporate them into his crafts, it would give him another boost he desperately needed.

Marven sat down beside him. "Looking at them like that won't help you get answers."

"I know, but..."

Marco shook his head. "I say we return it. We shouldn't gamble our hard earnings for ten gold."

Demir held up a bead. "If I can learn how to do it, it's more valuable than ten gold."

"I agree, but..."

Marven cut in. "Anyway, listen to this. I saw the hag yesterday going down the drain hole of the city. I think she's up to something. And it should be related to why she's this poor."

Demir looked up. "Down to the sewers, you mean?"

"Yeah. I worked for six months in sewers on Joltran-7. Anything can lurk there, from rabid giant rats to crazy homeless people. I think you two should come with me."

Demir nodded. "Sure, we can. Right, Marco?"

Marco made a face. "Iuck. I mean, I don't want to see magical shit or piss. But sure, we can come."

Marven grinned. "Good. Tomorrow, we follow the old woman into the dark."