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n?”But I will definitely follow you.”

nVivia’s tone was as calm and unvarying as if she were saying, “We’ll have bread tomorrow morning,” but this also meant her resolve was firm.

n“Even if you come along, you won’t be of any use. You’re just a potioneer! You don’t have any combat ability!” Howard tried to dissuade her from this impractical fantasy, to no avail.

nVivia shook her head, “Jelia has no combat ability either, yet I am at least a potioneer. Without me, what will you do if you get injured?” .

n“We can buy magic potions. Magic potions are much more effective than ordinary herbs.”

n“Do you have a lot of money?” Vivia looked at Howard’s face, “Even if you can afford magic potions, what will you do in case of an emergency? Anything can happen during an adventure, and magic potions alone can’t cover everything.”

n“I don’t want you to die, I don’t want to see you hurt.” Howard sighed, pulling out his last trump card, “Stay here, please. You can still help us by making potions, and we will eventually come back.”

n“But I also don’t want to see you suddenly appear in front of me covered in wounds, and I’m even more afraid that one day the others will return but not see you.”

nVivia simply shook her head.

nHoward couldn’t understand.

nFrom their first meeting until now, it hadn’t been more than two months.

nHow had this girl become so attached to him? What was so good about him? Was the aura of a king that obvious?

nAlas, he had tried his best to disguise it.

nLooking at Vivia’s profile, Howard couldn’t help but sigh repeatedly.

nVivia was adamant about following him.

nWhat could he do, have her locked up?

nHere, the one likely to be locked up would be himself.

nLooking around the empty hall, Howard sighed again.

nWas Antalya really that comfortable entrusting her to him? Hadn’t she always treated Vivia like her own daughter, and yet she so easily handed her daughter over to someone else?

n“I know I’m being selfish,” Vivia said softly.

n“But I just want to be with you.”

n“Alright,” Howard took a deep breath and nodded.

n“But promise me, you must protect yourself at all costs. Whatever happens, your safety is the most important!”

n“Promise me that, and I’ll let you come with me. Otherwise, I’ll sneak away.”

n“Believe me, if I really wanted to slip away, no one would notice.”

nVivia didn’t speak but nodded in agreement.

n“Then go pack your things,” Howard finished the ale in his cup in one gulp.

n“It’s getting late. Go and rest.”

n“Okay.”

nHearing Vivia’s response, Howard didn’t linger and walked away.

nGreg had just asked him to stop by the forge, curious about what he had prepared.

nMoreover, enhancing their strength had to be a priority now; otherwise, just one level 2 magus could have them all at a disadvantage.

nStepping out of the hall and into the courtyard, Howard looked up at the sprawling starry sky and touched the hilt of the twin swords on his back.

nWhere was that deity?

nAbove the sky, or in some dark, unseen corner?

nCould such creatures, only existing in legends, really be confined by human imagination?

nWith thoughts swirling in his head, Howard’s steps didn’t falter, quickly approaching the forge.

nAs Howard approached the forge, he heard a series of clear, rhythmic clanging sounds.

nDing—

nDing—

nDing—

nMaintaining a steady rhythm, the sounds were distant and resonant, lingering in the air.

nThey didn’t resemble the noise of metalworking; rather, they echoed the chime bells Howard had heard before, subtly carrying a certain melody.

nPushing the door open, Howard saw the dwarf bare-chested, his muscles tightly coiled.

nBeads of sweat tracing paths over his bronze skin gave him an almost metallic sheen.

nDespite his short stature, he exuded explosive power.

nThe force resonated within him, unrestrainedly released through the forging hammer in his hands, then immediately reined in—every bit of strength firmly under control.

nIt was this precise control that allowed for the accurate forging of every part of the metal, refining impurities from within.

nHoward watched for a while as the metal block on the anvil reduced significantly in size before Greg finally paused his work.

nHe grabbed a towel from a nearby rack to wipe off the sweat, then turned around.

n“You’re here.”

n“I’ve been here a while,” Howard nodded.

n“What are you working on, forging?”

n“Just making something to keep my skills from getting rusty,” Greg wiped the sweat from his forehead and draped a robe over himself.

n“Come, come, I’ve got something fantastic to show you. This took quite a bit of effort.” .𝒎

nWith that, Greg led Howard deeper into the forge.

nThe forge actually comprised two rooms; one was accessible from the outside, while the other could only be entered by passing through the first.

nGreg usually stayed in the outer room, and when Antalya and Howard visited, they only ever reached this outer area without venturing into the inner sanctum.

nTherefore, Howard had no idea what lay within.

nGiven Greg’s secretive manner, Howard had indeed speculated about the nature of the inner room.

nConsidering Greg was a blacksmith with a fondness for crafting weapons, could it be an armory?

nOr, given Greg’s dwarven heritage and dwarves’ typical penchant for digging, perhaps an entrance to a ruin had been unearthed?

nOr, recalling how Greg often ogled the tavern’s patrons, maybe the room hid something of a more… colorful nature?

nEach guess seemed more far-fetched than the last, but that’s often how rumors start.

nAs Howard was revisiting his myriad of theories, Greg had already opened the door to the inner room.

nThe room, merely about ten square meters in size, contained a small bed, a couple of weapon racks sparsely populated with gleaming swords and knives, a corner stood a blood-tasseled spear and several shields, while two crossbows and a longbow hung on the wall.

nRather than resembling an armory, it looked more like the collection room of a cold weapons enthusiast.

nSo, this was the secret Greg had been so keenly hiding!

nHoward touched his nose, his gaze sweeping around the room before landing back on Greg, “I thought it would be something more… spectacular. I didn’t expect it to be so… modest.”

nIndeed, this room bore no relation to his wild speculations, almost as if the rumors flying around often bore no semblance to their subjects, sometimes leaving even the person in question baffled.

n“What else did you think was in here? It’s just a resting room that doubles as a storeroom,” Greg said, settling himself onto the small bed and gesturing towards a weapon rack nearby.

n“Those were all forged by my own hands. I can’t claim each piece is a masterpiece, but there’s certainly nothing subpar among them.”

n“Is this what you wanted to show me?”

nAlthough Howard was somewhat touched by Greg’s willingness to share his personal secret, he couldn’t help thinking about the implications.

nIn the dead of night, two grown men sneaking around in a small room—it wouldn’t do their reputations any favors.

nWhat would people say? That he had inspected his resting quarters and found the mattress comfortable?

nHoward shook his head to clear it.

n“Of course not. I’ve got a real treasure to show you!”

nWith that, Greg bent over and… pulled out a large wooden box from under the bed.

nThe box looked like a scabbard, but it was at least twice the size of a typical one, over 1.6 meters in length, more than half a meter wide, and nearly thirty centimeters tall.

nIt was jet black, exuding a faint metallic sheen.

n“What’s this?” Howard crouched down, curiosity piqued.

nSecretly hidden under the bed and encased in such a distinguished box, could it be some sort of heirloom?

nWas the dwarf about to present him with the sharpest sword in the city?

n“Something good.” Greg winked, gesturing for Howard to step back before he opened the box with effort.

nThe room seemed to brighten a bit as a gentle chill emanated from the box.

nWas it indeed a grand sword?

nHoward peered in, surprised to find two blades lying inside, one longer than the other.

nBoth were jet black, their designs plain except for a silver line running along the edge of each blade, reminiscent of the gleaming spine of a swordfish.

n“Is this yours?” Howard asked, assuming these two blades must have been Greg’s own creation to be here.

n“In a way, yes and no,” Greg looked at the blades with a profound gaze.

n“I had a brother, which you probably didn’t know, because Vivia doesn’t know either.”

n“This was before Antalya took her in. My brother was also a blacksmith. You know, among dwarves, you could find eleven blacksmiths in ten of us. Once we hold a hammer, we just have to forge something. It’s in a dwarf’s nature, unchangeable.”

n“My brother’s name was Naya. Whether in forging or fighting, my talents were far inferior to his. These two blades were his work, his best and last.”

n“He died, killed by Soma, along with my beloved.”

n“Of course, I was the one who eventually killed Soma, so you could say I avenged them. But if it weren’t for you, I might have died at Soma’s hands. He was stronger than me, as always.”

nThe source of this content is .

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