Chapter 92: The price of success
Another four and a half days passed in the private smithing booth when a thunderous roar of joy startled the few smiths in the adjacent rooms.
"Dammit, that kid is getting on my nerves," the gray-bearded man with a yellow metal cap on the end grunted.
"Come on, don't you remember how it was when you were still actually progressing?" a sweating man working the bellows asked with a grin. "Besides, they say that kid is close to becoming a Topaz rank smith! Can you imagine how much that will help the rest of us? If those big branches hear about it, we will get more funding and perhaps even rare cards and metals!"
"Yeah, yeah," the old man muttered.
All of them looked up as they heard running feet, then they saw Irwin sprint past their room, shouting something that sounded happy.
"Think he succeeded?" the third smith, who had been blinking and yawning as if he just woke up from a small nap.
"No, he has to piss," the old man grunted as he gazed at the card image hovering before him.
"Oh. Alright," the third smith said.
The other two to stared at him in quiet disbelief.
--
Irwin could barely keep himself from shouting again as he stood behind a dozen smiths waiting in line for Ichela.
"Calm down, Irwin," Ambraz said as he flitted around Irwin's head, sat down on his shoulder, then jumped back up and flitted around again.