Lone: The Wanderer Rewrite

Book 2: Chapter 8: Common Sword and Bitter Pout

Lone was surprised to find himself crying upon hearing Gilbert's voice again. Honestly, he thought he was stronger than that.

Of course, he wasn't bawling and wailing but a few tears certainly escaped his eyes. 'After all I've been through... for me to tear up hearing his voice again... Man, I really am a kid inside.'

"It's great that you're okay, Gilbert," Lone said as he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

The communication orb in his hands shined a little bit as Gilbert responded, "Likewise. I'm happy you're doing well, Son."

"How did you pull through?" Lone asked. "Grimsley was telling me that you'd need a miracle to survive."

"Well, in a way, I got one," Gilbert answered. "I awakened to Death, ironically enough."

Lone frowned. "I'm not a big fan of these Primals after what I've seen but at least that one saved you. So you'll start ageing now?"

"Mhmm. Death actually spoke to me about that before awakening me. It told me I would have about 40 to 50-years left," Gilbert said with a disheartened tone.

Lone smiled. "That's not bad. I was expecting a few years to a decade. I mean, even with your rank extending your lifespan, you were kissing death from what Grimsley described. I really don't know much about the Primals and awakenings though. I keep thinking that maybe I should have tried my luck at the church in Ranton to learn more, haha."

"... You aren't concerned I'll die of old age in less than a century?" Gilbert asked with a bit of surprise in his tone.

Lone shook his head even if Gilbert couldn't see him doing so. "Where I'm from just reaching 70-years-old is quite the accomplishment. Besides, so long as you rank up, that deadline will get pushed back, won't it?"

Gilbert was speechless. A few seconds passed before a low chuckle came through the communication orb. "Right you are, Son, right you are. We can't all be geniuses like yourself with that unique skill of yours but I should certainly try to reach triple-S-rank, now shouldn't I?"

Lone grinned. "Exactly. By the way, what skill did you get from awakening to Death?"

"Ah, a simple skill, really. I can detect the souls and corpses of the dead. It's passive and has quite the distance. I've been able to use it to locate an underground dungeon on this island we now call home," Gilbert explained. "I intend to explore said dungeon once we're settled here and have a plan of action."

"Right, those are a thing on this planet..." Lone commented. "They seem rare."

"Yes and no," Gilbert said. "There are tens of thousands of them scattered across the continent but Teresta is a big continent, Son. Most discovered dungeons are controlled by factions like the guild or by kingdoms and empires. They tend to be closely guarded. Milindo was unfortunate enough to not own more than a handful of very low ranking ones."

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"Huh. Good to know. How do you plan to survive on that island you're on, by the way? You don't exactly have my Creation Magic," Lone asked.

"There's plenty of wild game as far as food is a concern. As for shelter, I can build that easily enough myself. Speaking of which, I should go. I need to have a word with Duke Grindol and then I have to construct a proper house for us with my magic. I'm actually looking rather forward to it. It's been some time since I last made use of my more utility-focused nature magic. It's a shame I don't have any actual utility magic. That stuff is great for creating buildings," Gilbert said. "Keeping them clean too."

"Right. I need to be getting back to work anyway. My break's almost over. It was good to hear from you, Gilbert," Lone replied.

"Likewise, Son. Now, remember, if you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm always here. Also, if you get any news about Milindo and Ranton, please let me know. The guild should have made their move by now," Gilbert requested.

"Will do." And with that, the communication orb became lifeless and inactive.

Lone put the magical device away in his Dimensional Storage and he then rubbed his neck as he leaned into the sofa just opposite the stonified corpse of his teacher's wife.

He smiled faintly as he mumbled, "I'm so glad he made it... I kind of wanted to avoid it since I'd rather forget most of what happened back there but I should make some inquiries at the guild about what its response was since Gilbert's curious."

A few moments after having said that the door leading to the storefront opened. "Rest's over, boy. Ah hope ye're ready to learn again. Ye did great selling shit yesterday and this morning, but now that things have calmed down a bit it's time to see if ye can apply anything ah'm trying to teach ye to yer own forging technique."

Lone slowly stood up and nodded. "I'm in your very capable hands, Gramps."

"Yeah, that's good," Wilbur praised as he carefully watched Lone go through the process of forging yet another sword like two days ago. "Now, make sure ye turn that dial there exactly 17-degrees to the right. Also remind me what doing that does. Can't have ye learning to do it without learning what turning it actually helps with."

Lone remained focused while he did as instructed and answered, "It's linked to the steamforge's fire generator and its modulating the heat to be the exact temperature I need by using basic fire-dyed mana crystals."

"Very good. Now pull that lever down a fourth of the way. Also, keep a tight but not pressuring grip on the blade. Tell me why that lever needs pulling and why ye're using yer hands to grip the metal and not tongs," Wilbur demanded of Lone.

Lone, again, perfectly performed the requested tasks as he spoke. "This lever dumps the residue of the specially coated and melted down salt coal. It helps to cool the metal just enough to solidify to the point it can be adjusted easily with a hammer. It's basically a more efficient and precise way to cool instead of using water."

He took a breath then continued, "I'm using these steamforged gloves instead of tongs because I'm not precise enough with the steamforged tongs you have, Gramps. The gloves protect my hands and arms from the heat and allow enough precision to hold and turn the blade regardless of how hot it is."

"Good, good. That'll do from my end for now. Finish the blade, boy. I've got high hopes for this one," Wilbur said with a proud tone.

Lone truly was a master at remembering everything he was taught. Whether he could put that into practice though was still to be seen.

An hour quickly came and went. During that time Lone learned that the forge room had some sort of automated bell system operated by a steamforged device which Wilbur used to learn of new customers.

He had left twice to deal with the store's patrons before Lone had finally finished making the sword.

Congratulations! the host's passive skill [Blacksmithing] has levelled up! It is now Advanced Level 1.

Congratulations! the host's passive skill [Woodworking] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 9.

Congratulations! the host's passive skill [Steamforged Tool Mastery] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 3.

Lone carefully put the longsword down and he then took off the steamforged gloves he was wearing. He leaned back and smiled at his teacher. "Done."

"Good job, boy. Give me a minute to see the quality," Steamforger Wilbur said as he picked up the sword and began inspecting it closely.

Lone nodded and decided to see the changes to his blacksmithing skill since he'd achieved advanced-rank.

Passive Skill: Blacksmithing A skill that allows the host to craft with metal 30% [+15%] faster and 30% [+15%] more skillfully. Cost:N/A Mastery:Advanced Level 1

'No new effects, still that 15% boost should be useful for helping me master how to actually smith outside of the skill,' Lone thoughts.

"Hmm... Not bad at all, boy. That last blade was marked as a Failure, this one's been rated as Common by the system. That fucker's stingy so for ye to get a Common-grade on yer first real attempt... ah'm surprised," Steamforger Wilbur said.

Lone wore a confused expression. "What? You can see the sword's stats?"

The old dwarf gave Lone a funny look before he sighed. "Ye really did crawl out from under a rock, didn't ye? Stone Dwarves can be born with one of two racial skills; Miner's Glory or Stone's Vision. I got the latter. It lets me see what grade a tool, weapon or piece of armour is along with a brief description of it and its stats."

He gestured to Lone's newly-forged sword and said, "Common-grade Longsword, forged by the new foxkin blacksmith Lone Immortus. It has 3 Sharpness and 10 Durability. Good stats for a common blade, to be honest with you."

"That's..." Lone was shocked. "That's honestly very surprising."

"Is it? What can ye do with yer racial skill?" Steamforger Wilbur asked. "I've never met a Golden Foxkin before."

Lone smiled wryly. "I can harden my tails and basically turn them into spears, is the long and short of it."

"And I can tell who made what and if it's any good," the old dwarf shrugged. "Everything has its uses. Us dwarves with Stone's Vision are often used as guarantors for sketchy purchases to make sure someone's not getting scammed. Did it for about a century myself when I went topside."

Lone nodded. "That's true. I wonder what uses my tails have beyond impaling people..."

"Who knows? Maybe ye could be the world's best multi kebab stake. Anyway, it's getting late. Ye did well but ye spent most of the afternoon on this blade. Go home, get some rest and ah'll see ye tomorrow," Wilbur said. "Also, ah'll sell this. It's a good sword. Ye'll get yer cut when it's off the shelf."

Lone smiled. "I look forward to it."

Lone had decided to have dinner with both Soph and Breena in the Rusty Sprocket's built-in restaurant that night.

His reasoning? He wanted to socialise with Breena. Usually, he just got a meal out of his Dimensional Storage for the girl and she stayed in her room until the following morning. Today he wanted to get to know her a bit better since they were companions and likely would remain so for quite some time.

Taking a sip from his dwarven ale and lightly battling away Soph's hand which was trying to steal the drink for only God knows what reason, he said to Breena, "Are you enjoying your quest?"

The girl looked up from her glass of water hesitantly. "Uh, yeah. It's, um, fine. It's quiet."

"And the tailor? You're not having any issues with him, are you?" Lone asked.

Shaking her head softly, Breena answered, "No. He's, um, weird but he keeps his distance which is, uh, nice. I-I'm not trying to avoid him but I just kinda.... do. It helps that he doesn't mind it so long as I do the work."

"And Kyuubi? She doesn't disturb you, does she?" Lone questioned.

A small and caring smile wormed its way onto the deeply-troubled girl's face. "No, she's very calm. She just sleeps most of the time... Um, her fur is very soft..."

Lone nodded. 'That's the first smile I've seen from her thus far. So the therapeutic treatment through animals is working. Brilliant. A few more months of that and maybe she'll open up a bit more to those around her... I can only hope.'

"I was talking to Soph earlier and she said both of you have Sixth Sun off this week. I was thinking we should go see what the town has to offer by way of entertainment. Would you like to join us?" Lone requested with a warm and friendly expression on his face.

Breena stopped to consider the offer carefully for more than a few seconds before she slowly shook her head. "S-Sorry... I should really focus on my n-needle work. I don't want to disappoint Mister Fits'war."

Lone frowned internally but didn't show it externally. "That's fine. Maybe next time."

'She deserves a more normal life, a young girl like her... I wonder what I can do to get her to just have fun again like all kids her age should...' He would have ground his teeth in frustration were he not in a public space and if he weren't also sitting across from Breena. 'Why people like Daisuke are allowed to exist when supposed 'gods' also exist is crazy. No true god would let people become evil like that man was...'

Regardless of his dark thoughts relating to the 'gods', the evening moved ever onwards and they soon had their dinner.

Soph was muttering to herself and when asked what she had said by Lone she giggled it off and instead cuddled one of his tails.

'You truly do not remember what happened the last time you made our body partake in alcohol?' Sophie asked her other self.

Soph pouted. 'But it was tasty. Even since that day at Grimsley's old forge Lone won't let me drink any!'

'And for good reason. You and we alike are not good drunks nor can we even tolerate much before becoming completely intoxicated. How foolish of you to become upset over him denying you his drink,' Sophie said in a tone that would be accompanied by a roll of the eyes were she in control of their body right now.

Soph's pout widened. 'I bet he'd let me if I say I want an indirect kiss. He loves me after all.'

'Ha-ah... as we said, foolish,' Sophie sighed.