Rise of the Living Forge

Chapter 7: Incident

“Huh,” Arwin said, chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “This is okay. I wasn’t expecting there to be much of substance in the area.”

“Me neither,” Reya admitted. “Turns out, the lady that wanted to start a tavern was serious about it. She promised to give us five more meals, free of charge.”

The two of them had polished off the remaining drumsticks and had piled the bones between them. There weren’t any chairs or a table in the smithy, so they just sat cross-legged on the floor. Arwin wasn’t particularly bothered by the chill, but Reya had progressively scooted closer and closer to the warmth of the hearth until she sat right beside it.

“Did you get a chance to test my dagger?” Arwin asked, covering a yawn. The day was finally starting to catch up with him.

“No, s – uh, Arwin. I don’t gut random people I walk by.”

“Ah, right. Good point.” Arwin rubbed his eyes, then pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hands off on his shirt. Napkins were another item on his growing list of necessities, but those could come after he patched the rest of the place up.

He’d managed to forge a single sword while Reya had been out. It wasn’t anything special, but it looked like a sword and handled well enough. It would probably sell for a bit, so long as he could find a buyer.

“I’m going to try to start making some money,” Arwin said, stretching his arms over his head. “Keep an eye out for anyone who might need the services of a smith, would you?”

Reya squinted at Arwin, as if she were trying to determine if he was joking.

“Do you mean like… horseshoes and the like? Or swords?”

“Dunno. I haven’t made a horseshoe yet, but I’ll do whatever people want. I’m just trying to earn some gold right now. If anyone’s in the market for something better, then great. I’ll do that. In the meantime, I’ll just keep forging things until I’ve got enough to set up a little stand somewhere.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Reya said, sounding like she did not think it was a good idea in the slightest. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Arwin just nodded. He didn’t much care if Reya approved of what he was doing or not. The most important thing he could do right now was learn more about his Class and keep his head low.

Actually, scratch that. The most important thing I can do right now is find a goddamn bed. I’m exhausted.

There were, unfortunately, no beds in the smithy. There wasn’t anything soft either – or, at least, nothing soft that Arwin was eager to put his head on. He scrunched his nose in distaste and leaned against the wall, raising a hand to suck the flame from the hearth.

“I’m going to bed,” Arwin said. “Don’t rob me.”

Reya paled and she nodded hurriedly, raising her hands. “I wouldn’t do something like that. I value my life.”

“Good,” Arwin said. Then he closed his eyes and, minutes later, drifted off to sleep.

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Arwin dreamed of home. Not the home that the Adventurer’s Guild had built for him, but the small, one-story house that he’d lived in as a child – the home that had been his before he’d been summoned to this world by the guild.

His memories of it were fuzzy at best, but he still remembered more than he suspected he should have. He couldn’t remember the faces of his parents, but he remembered their love.

Arwin had a brother as well. Aiden. He couldn’t remember his face either. Arwin wasn’t even sure if any of them were still alive. Traveling between dimensions or universes – he still wasn’t sure where it was that this world existed – had to take time.

Maybe they were all already dead, or perhaps they still wondered what happened to him. Arwin had been ten on the day he’d been ripped from his comfortable bed and found himself here. There had been a time when he’d longed to return, but that feeling was gone.

Earth was his first home, but it was his home no longer. He was part of this world, now. And yet, he didn’t even know if this world had a name. Amusingly enough, he knew more about Earth than he knew about the world around him now.

Every waking moment he’d spent here, going from when he was summoned until when he struck down the Demon Queen, had been spent in training. Training tactics, fighting monsters to gain strength and rise in Tiers, and training against the other adventurers.

That was all he’d known. It had been for the best. Even if he hadn’t had a childhood, he was fighting to protect the childhoods of everyone who lived within the Kingdom of Lien.

At least, that was what he thought he’d been doing. Now, he wasn’t so sure. The Guild had betrayed him without even blinking an eye, and the kingdom was at war once more.

Why? What was the purpose? I did everything I was meant to. We should have been at peace.

The answers didn’t come. No matter what should have happened, the new war had started. Mercifully, there was someone else to deal with it now. Arwin couldn’t help but wonder if the new Hero was the same as he had been – another child stolen from their family on Earth, forced to give their life in trade for peace.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Arwin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He didn’t get a chance to find out. Sleep ripped itself away from him and his eyes snapped open. Bolting upright with a start, Arwin leapt to his feet and grabbed for a sword that wasn’t there.

The smithy was empty. His heart slammed in his chest as he spun, searching for an enemy. His hand slowly lowered and he swallowed, shaking his head and letting out a slow breath.

Sunlight filtered through the cracks in the smithy roof above him. He stretched his arms out, then popped his neck. The subjects of his dreams had already started to drift away from him, but that was fine.

The past doesn’t matter. I’m free now, and I’m going to abuse that to its fullest extent. This smithy is a perfect place to get started. It’s got a lot that I need to get around to fixing, but I can already picture it in its full glory.

A smile drifted across Arwin’s face at the thought. He rubbed his hands together, warming them back up, and turned to the hearth. A new morning meant more time for work, and he had some swords to work on.

He grabbed the last of his wood pile and tossed it into the hearth. Then, summoning his [Soul Flame], Arwin sent a small orb of fire into the dry wood. It quickly started to crackle as the flame took, and he got to work with the bellows to bring the heat up faster.

Once the flame was properly roaring, Arwin picked out another few pieces of metal and tossed them into the forge. He vaguely remembered one of the artificers making his weapons hammering layers of metal together, claiming they were stronger that way.

No clue if he was right, but I’ve got nothing but time. Experimenting will be fun.

Arwin waited until the metal was properly heated before setting the first one out on the anvil and laying into it with his hammer. As he had previously, Arwin quickly fell into a rhythm. His hammer rose and fell, striking the glowing portions of the metal.

This piece seemed particularly determined to guide him in the right direction, and he made good time. Once it was flattened out, Arwin claimed another one of the pieces and hammered it out as well.

He started to layer them, folding them in on themselves as he worked. It was getting harder to read the metal’s intent, but there was just enough to follow by. It helped that every [Scourge] empowered blow struck the metal like a hundred individual strikes, drastically increasing the speed he worked at.

Before long, the shape of a sword took form before Arwin. A grin stretched across his lips as he worked, feeling his desires mixing with those of the metal and starting to take form on the anvil before him.

Arwin accelerated. This was going to be a magical weapon. He could feel it in his very bones. Every minute he made the world wait felt like a disservice.

He worked for a little under an hour before the glow finally faded and Arwin let his hammer lower, breathing heavily as he took in his creation. There was no real hilt, and the handle was more of a spike than a comfortable grip.

Arwin brought the blade over to his old whetstone and got to work, sharpening the blade. He was starting to get better at it, though his efforts still weren’t exactly those of a master. But, even after he raised the blade from the stone, nothing changed.

Magic simmered within the metal – and yet, it wasn’t finished. Arwin’s brow furrowed as he looked down on the sword.

“Do I need to get you a proper handle?” Arwin murmured. “I suppose that would make sense. Can’t call it a proper sword if you’re holding it by that little nub.”

He scanned his shop, but he didn’t exactly know any woodworking. Still, he wasn’t about to be dissuaded. Arwin set the sword down on his anvil and departed the smithy, returning to the wooden house he’d looted the day prior.

After a quick search, he spotted a piece of wood that looked to be in pretty good condition. He snagged it and headed back to his smithy without a second glance. As soon as he returned, Arwin used one of the swords he’d taken from the Brothers to shave away strips of wood until he had something that vaguely resembled a hilt.

Arwin then took the sword and held it to the anvil, pounding the wooden hilt in at its bottom with his hammer. Each strike impaled the wood a little farther on the tang until it was all the way up to the blade.

He took a step back, studying his creation. It didn’t have a proper hilt, and he knew for a fact that he’d made it completely wrong. But, despite that, he felt the Mesh tingle against his skin.

[Short Sword: Garbage Quality] has been forged. Forging a magical item has granted you energy.

Arwin wasn’t exactly surprised. The sword looked like it had been dropped down a flight of stairs while it was being forged, and the impurities in the metal had done a serious number on its potential.

That said, he’d still made a magical weapon. Arwin inspected the weapon closer to see what properties he’d imbued it with.

Short Sword: Garbage Quality

[Brittle]: This weapon has a chance of shattering on every blow. Upon shattering, the magical power stored within the weapon will be released in an instant, causing a minor magical explosion.

A burst of laughter slipped out of Arwin’s mouth. He carefully carried the sword over to the corner of his forge and set it down, taking care not to move it too aggressively. It wasn’t a sword he was inclined to use himself, nor did he want to find out what would happen if he ate its power, but it wasn’t bad as a throwing weapon.

“I suppose this is the detrimental quality my skill talked about.”

I wonder if the gemstone that was meant to kill me worked in a similar manner. Maybe forging a few more weapons with Brittle would actually be a good way to research what happened – but I’d rather make something actually useful.

Arwin studied the blade, pondering on what he’d done wrong. The first and easiest problem was obviously his materials. He needed better metal to work with, but that would be fixed when he started earning more money.

The bigger issue was with his actual technique. He was pretty certain that he’d made the handle entirely wrong, and now that he thought about it, when he’d seen his smith making a sword for him, the man had twisted two metal rods together rather than just hammering some scraps.

Maybe I need to get some metal rods first. They would certainly lend themselves to the shape of a sword better. I think that should be my next step.

Arwin was still nodding to himself when he heard gravel shift near the entrance of the smithy. He glanced over as Reya walked inside, chewing on a chunk of meat on a bone. She froze as she saw Arwin.

“You’re awake!”

“Of course I’m awake,” Arwin said dryly. “What else would I be? It’s the middle of the day.”

“Uh, right. Yeah.” Reya cleared her throat. “It’s just that you slept for like… two days straight. I was wondering if you would wake up.”

“Two days?” Arwin’s eyes widened, but Reya’s word did make a certain amount of sense. “I suppose I was rather tired.”

“Are you hungry? I didn’t get food for you, but…”

Arwin shook his head, surprised to find he meant it. His stomach didn’t exactly feel full, but he didn’t feel like he’d slept for two days at all. As a matter of fact, he actually felt rather good.

Interesting. Do magical items sustain me for longer than normal food does? Does that mean I don’t need to eat food at all? Eh. Even if I didn’t, I still would. There aren’t enough joys in life to skip out on one.

“Forget food for a moment. Did anything interesting happen?” Arwin asked.

Reya crossed her arms behind her back and suddenly found one of the broken-down walls fascinating. “Uh… nothing too interesting, no.”

Arwin’s eyes narrowed. “Out with it.”

“I, uh, may have killed someone.”