Chapter 4: Shut Up, Kid!

The next morning, the five gathered at the training ground. Captain Gerald stood waiting, arms folded.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the path.

They fell into line behind him.

Kian’s steps were stiff, his arms locked at his sides. Why am I walking like this? Calm down… He looked like a robot marching forward.

Ren bounced ahead, half‑walking, half‑hopping, his excitement impossible to hide. Finally… a real weapon.

Daichi smiled softly, his eyes calm. I wonder how mine will feel.

Aisha’s grin matched his, her dark brown hair swaying with each step. I can’t wait to see mine.

Haruto walked quietly.

The sound of Gerald’s boots led them forward, the faint ring of hammering already reaching their ears. Franco’s forge awaited.

The faint ring of hammering grew louder as they followed Gerald down the narrow path.

They reached a large wooden door. Gerald pushed it open — *creeeak* — the sound echoing as the heavy door swung wide.

Inside, flames roared, sparks flying with every strike of the hammer.

At the center stood a man, broad and weathered, his arms thick and stiff, rugged gray hair falling across his face. As they entered, he glanced back with a sharp side‑eye, then continued hammering.

“Franco,” Gerald called.

The blacksmith lowered his hammer, setting it aside with a heavy thud. He looked at each of them, then turned to Gerald.

“So… they’re your apprentices? Kids…??” Franco’s voice carried a stunned laugh. He shook his head. “They’re too young to wield a real weapon.”

Daichi’s smile faltered. Who are you calling a kid…?

Kian clenched his jaw. Tch… say that again, old man.

Gerald’s tone was calm. “I will be paying.”

Franco’s expression shifted instantly. His eyes narrowed, then softened. “Hmmm… I guess you can really use an actual weapon.”

He pulled out a chair near the table, sat down, and reached for a pen and paper.

Franco tapped the table with his finger.

“You…”

All five froze, glancing at each other. Who’s he calling?

His finger pointed straight at the one in the center.

“Ren.”

Ren’s eyes lit up. He sprang forward, practically hopping as he stopped in front of Franco.

Franco raised the hammer he held, extending it toward him.

“Put your hand on the head.”

Ren tilted his head, curious, but obeyed. Franco’s eyes half‑closed, his expression shifting as if he were performing some strange ritual.

Kian stiffened, panic flashing across his face.

“Captain! Stop him—he’s gonna do something to Ren!”

Gerald’s voice was calm.

“Nothing will happen. He’s just seeing the memories of the shard that chose Ren.”

The room fell silent. Franco’s grip tightened on the hammer, his eyes still half‑closed.

Kian muttered under his breath. “I’ve never heard of such an affinity…”

Gerald nodded.

“Right. Because it’s special. Extremely rare. He can only view the shard’s memories… but he never remembers them once his eyes open.”

Franco’s hand moved on its own, pen scratching across paper. Shapes began to form.

Gerald’s tone grew heavier.

“Yet, even without memory, his hands draw the weapons. Later, he forges them with skill unmatched. He was once the royal blacksmith… a legend. He left that post, lived in a neighboring village, until bandits destroyed it. Now, he’s here.”

The children leaned closer, eyes wide.

“Oooh…” They nodded together, awe filling their faces.

Franco opened his eyes. The drawing was complete.

But then—he immediately hid it.

Ren leaned forward, eyes wide.

“I wanna see it!”

Franco smirked.

“If you see it now, you won’t see the weapon.”

Ren froze, lips pressed tight, then shuffled back behind the others.

One by one, Franco called each of them. Each time, he sketched quickly, then hid the paper with a teasing smile, even giggling under his breath.

Gerald sighed inwardly.

He looks more like a kid than the kids themselves…

Finally came Haruto. Franco made the drawing, glanced at it for a moment, then hid it again. Haruto didn’t react, ignoring the teasing completely as he walked back without a word.

Franco stretched his arms.

“We’re all done. You can go.”

Ren’s voice shot up.

“But where are our weapons?!”

Franco glared.

“Dumb kid. I obviously haven’t made them yet. Can’t you understand?”

Ren frowned.

“Then should I come tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Day after?”

“No!”

“Day after day after tomorrow?”

Franco slammed the table.

“You’ll get them once I finish. I’ll give them to Gerald. Now leave!”

The kids groaned but shuffled toward the door.

“Wait,” Franco said, stopping Gerald.

The children left, their chatter fading. Franco leaned back in his chair.

“That silent kid… you haven’t taught him archery, have you?”

Gerald shook his head.

“No.”

“Great. Then teach him. And tell the brats not to go around screaming that I’m the legendary blacksmith.”

Just then, Ren’s voice rang out from outside.

“Yaaay! I’ll be getting a weapon from the legendary blacksmith! Now I’m gonna be a prodigy! Yeahhh!”

Franco’s roar shook the workshop.

“SHUT UP, KID!!”

Before he could say more, Gerald swiftly exited, leaving Franco grumbling alone.