Chapter 35: Silver metal
Heavy, dark clouds hung over Veridia, but the sun's harsh rays still battered the town, baking the cobblestones beneath Tyler's boots. He walked in silence, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the uneven street. A massive shadow swept over him as a thick cloud eclipsed the sun. The sudden drop in temperature offered a fleeting second of relief.
A small rubber ball bounced out from a side street, rolling to a stop against his leg. Tyler stopped. Two young boys stood a few paces away, staring at him. The older one jabbed the younger in the ribs with his elbow.
"Go get it," the kid hissed.
The corner of Tyler's mouth twitched upward. He nudged the toe of his boot against the rubber, sending the ball rolling back across the stones. The younger boy scrambled down to snatch it up, looking back just in time to see Tyler already walking away.
Tyler tilted his head back. The blinding sun pierced the jagged edge of the storm clouds. "It's hot, but it might rain soon," he muttered, continuing his slow walk toward the marketplace.
The memory of the system prompt from the night before surfaced in his mind.
*Assimilation.*Tyler pulled his hands from his pockets. *I still can't believe I got a skill like that. The best part is, it doesn't consume any mana since its passive.*
He kept his pace steady, listening to his boots against the stone.
*I've been running this over in my head all day. Is this skill only limited to weapons? The system said 'items'. If these mana engrams are basically memories in the mana, they have to be everywhere, right?*
He kicked a sharp, loose rock. It clattered harshly against the cobblestones.
*Say... maybe I could pull a skill out of a rock.* He scratched the back of his neck, the skin damp with sweat. *No. That's stupid. The engrams might be everywhere, but the system outright told me my inventory items didn't have enough dormant engrams to draw a skill from. There has to be a concentrated amount. A specific threshold.*
His boots dragged to a halt. He stood in front of Hector's shop.
*Should I tell him about the new skill? I want to test how it works on his forged weapons.*
Tyler stepped forward and pushed the heavy wooden door open. Hector stood behind the front counter, wiping soot from his hands.
"Morning," Tyler said.
"Morning," Hector grunted. "Was starting to wonder if you were going to show up today."
"Sorry I'm late. I was dead on my feet from training yesterday."
"You out with James?"
"Started with him. He went on a hunt and left me to drill by myself."
"Well, you're here now," Hector said, gesturing around the room. "I've got a backlog of orders needing my attention. Watch the front for me. I scrubbed the place down last night, so just shout if customers walk through the door."
"Got it," Tyler said.
Hector turned to head into the back room.
"Wait," Tyler called out. "Almost forgot. James sent a message."
Hector stopped, looking back over his heavy shoulder. "Yeah?"
"He lost his sword on the hunt yesterday. Took a bad hit. He's laid up today."
Hector's jaw tightened. "How bad is it?"
"He'll live. They brought in a healer. He's patched up, but he's completely exhausted."
Hector let out a heavy breath, rubbing his eyebrow in obvious frustration. "Good to hear he's breathing. But damn it, I just gave that blade to him a few days ago."
Tyler kept his face completely blank. *I told him exactly what James told me to say. He doesn't want anyone knowing what actually happened out in those monster zones.*
"Well, I still owe him," Hector muttered, dropping his hand to his waist. "He's going to need a whole new scabbard to fit whatever I make next." He pushed through the door into the smithing room. "I'll have it ready before you leave!" he shouted over his shoulder.
"Sure thing."
Tyler stepped around the wooden counter. His eyes dropped to a row of heavy wooden drawers beneath the surface. His gaze locked onto a single golden knob.
*That's where he keeps his cash, right?*
He stared at the golden metal. The sudden, heavy urge to wrap his fingers around the knob and pull the drawer open clawed at the back of his mind. His fingers twitched.
He ground his teeth together and forced his eyes away, shaking the thought loose. He turned his back to the counter, scanning the armory. Dozens of forged blades and leather gear hung from iron hooks along the walls.
Tyler walked around the counter to the left wall. He reached up and wrapped his bare hand tightly around the leather grip of a steel sword resting horizontally across a nailed wooden plank.
Tyler pulled his brows together.* I noticed this when I was cleaning James's swords. The system doesn't show the attack values for weapons I didn't make.*
He pushed a concentrated surge of his dense mana straight into the cold steel of Hector's forged blade. A blue hologram instantly materialized in front of him.
[ASSIMILATION FAILED. USER CAN ONLY ASSIMILATE ITEMS THEY HAVE CRAFTED.]
"Damn," Tyler muttered, dropping his shoulders. "I'm not really surprised."
*It felt too good to be true anyway. But why does it only work on things I craft?*
The error panel vanished, instantly replaced by a new stream of text.
[THE CRAFTING PROCESS INVOLVES ORGANIZING MANA ENGRAMS INTO A FUNCTIONAL CIRCUIT. IRREGULAR OR RANDOM MANA CIRCUITS WILL FAIL TO AWAKEN DORMANT SKILLS.]
"Oh," Tyler breathed. He released his grip, leaving the sword resting on the wooden plank.
*The system's helpful when it wants to be. It gives me information unprompted. Other times, it just straight-up ignores me.*
He rubbed his jaw, staring at the dull sheen of the steel blade on the wall. *So that's it. I can only use the skill on my own items.*
He dropped a hand to his hip.* But something else has been bothering me.*
He mentally pulled up his status hologram.
SPECIES: Human
NAME: Tyler Evans
RANK: F
LVL: 14
CLASS: Craftsman
HP: 70/70 MP: 70/70
STR: 50 AGI: 53 +[4]
DEF: 46 +[37] STM: 49
SKILLS: Weapon Craft-Lv1, Armor Craft-Lv1, Rush-MC20
PASSIVE SKILLS: Weapon Mastery-Lv1, Assimilation
The glowing text floated in front of him. "The Seven Strikes skill," Tyler whispered to the empty room. "It's missing."
He lifted his right hand and opened his empty palm. A streak of blue light flashed, and the heavy silver spear dropped heavily into his grip. The moment his calloused fingers wrapped around the metal shaft, the skill blinked into existence at the bottom of his status panel.
"I can't use the skill if I'm not holding this weapon," Tyler murmured. "That means the skill comes directly from this spear. If I unequip it, I can't use it."
He dismissed the spear. The heavy weapon vanished from his hand, and the skill immediately wiped itself from the glowing hologram.
A sharp, ringing strike of a hammer against hot iron echoed from the back room.* He started forging.*
Tyler walked back to the front counter. He dragged a wooden stool from the corner, sat down, and waited. Minutes dragged on, feeling like hours. He shifted his weight endlessly against the hard wood.
"Man, where are the customers? No one has passed through here.*
A small bell above the door chimed sharply. The heavy wooden door pushed open. Tyler’s posture stiffened, his spine snapping straight.
A young woman with silver hair stepped into the stifling heat of the shop. She wore the exact same leather armor Tyler had seen her wearing out in the monster zone.
Her eyebrows shot up in immediate recognition. She narrowed her eyes as she stepped up to the counter, a wooden bow gripped tight in her fist.
"So I was right," she said, her voice flat. "You're not a hunter."
Tyler’s pulse hammered against his ribs. *She's the girl who robbed us.*
A translucent panel materialized directly over her head.
[HUMAN - LEVEL: 60]
Tyler swallowed hard, his throat dry. *Level sixty?That's so high. She's twenty levels above James.*
"Are you going to just keep staring at me, or are you going to call the craftsman?" she snapped. She slammed her weapon down onto the wooden counter. A deep, jagged crack ran straight down the center of the wood. "I need this repaired."
"Huh? Oh," Tyler stammered. A cold knot twisted in his gut. She wasn't confronting him. She acted as if holding them at weapon-point yesterday was completely normal.
Tyler turned toward the back room, opening his mouth to call for Hector.
"Wait," she commanded, resting a hand on her hip. She scanned the armory walls. "How much is that bow over there?" She pointed a finger at a recurve hanging on an iron hook.
"Um, I don't... know," Tyler answered.
"You don't know?" She arched an eyebrow.
Tyler stepped back and pushed the heavy door to the forge open. "Hector," Tyler yelled over the roaring fire. "You have a customer."
The rhythmic ringing of the hammer stopped abruptly. "What?" Hector grunted.
"We have a customer," Tyler repeated.
Hector let out a heavy breath. He wiped a streak of sweat and soot from his forehead with his thick forearm and stepped out of the forge. He stopped at the counter, facing the silver-haired woman. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest.
"I want to buy a new bow," she said.
Hector glanced down at the counter. He noted the deep scratches and the severe fracture splintering the wood. He picked it up in his massive hands, testing its weight. "This is a pretty old bow," Hector rumbled. He lifted his gaze, meeting her impatient stare. He set the fractured weapon back down. "Do you want to buy a wooden bow, or a metal one instead?"
"How much does a metal bow cost?" she asked.
"It costs seven silver coins."
"Huh. So it's true. It's pretty cheap here," she murmured to herself.
She fished a small canvas pouch out from her gear, untied it, and pulled out seven silver coins. She slid the metal across the wooden counter toward Hector.
Hector scooped the coins off the scratched wood, pulled open the drawer, and dropped them into a thick leather pouch already filled with other silver pieces.
"Wait here," Hector grunted to the young woman. "I'll go get it for you." He turned, stepping past Tyler, and pushed through the heavy door into the back room.
Tyler shifted his attention to Rebecca. She slowly turned her head, her silver eyes scanning the gear hanging on the walls.
Her gaze snapped to his.
Tyler immediately looked down, his throat working as he swallowed dry air.
"What, you have something you want to say to me?" she asked, her voice flat.
"No," Tyler muttered.
Her eyes narrowed. Tyler kept his weight shifted back, his chin tucked, refusing to meet her stare.
"What the hell were you doing in a monster zone?" she asked calmly.
Tyler forced himself to look up and lock eyes with her. His chest tightened under her stare. "I—"
"Were you trying to raise your level?" she interrupted. "You look weak. Just by looking at you, I can already tell you're not a combat type."
Tyler's brow pulled down. His jaw set hard.* I look weak?* It felt like an insult to all the training he had done with James.
"I'm getting stronger," the whisper slipped out before he could stop it.
"Oh. Good for you," she said, her expression entirely deadpan. "So you really were there to raise your level." She tilted her head a fraction of an inch. "Let me give you some advice. If you want to get stronger faster, don't be a fucking coward."
Tyler's palms curled into tight fists.
"Honestly, you look like someone who's been receiving help your entire life," she continued, her voice devoid of any heat.
Tyler's fingers slowly uncurled against his thighs. His stomach dropped, the words hitting like a physical blow.
"Also, hire a better hunter next time," she said, closing her eyes and letting out a short sigh. She opened them, staring right through him. "That old man looked weak. He was pretty cheap, too. He only had seven silver."
"What?" Tyler muttered, the air leaving his lungs.
The heavy door swung open. Hector stepped out, gripping the rigid metal bow. "Sorry I took so long. Misplaced the equipment earlier."
He handed it across the counter. Rebecca took the shiny silver metal with both hands. She hooked the bowstring with her gloved finger and pulled it back, testing the tension of the limbs.
"This will do," she said.
She let the string snap back, shifted her cold stare to Tyler for a split second, and then turned and walked out of the shop.
Hector looked over at Tyler. Tyler kept his eyes glued to the scarred wood of the counter, his brow pulled down in a harsh crease.
"Did you know that girl?" Hector asked.
Tyler jerked his head up. "No."
"Really? I thought I heard you talking to her."
Tyler cleared his throat, shifting his weight. "She... was just asking if I worked here."
"Oh." Hector smiled. "Did you tell her you were my assistant?"
"Yeah," Tyler said, keeping his tone entirely flat.
"Well, all right then. I'm going to continue forging. A customer requested some equipment yesterday, so they might arrive any time soon." Hector pushed through the door, leaving Tyler alone in the quiet shop.
*That bitch...*
Tyler clamped his teeth together. "Why the hell would she say that?" he whispered. He squeezed his fists until his forearms trembled.
*She isn't even ashamed. She said James had seven coins. She was just telling me she bought the weapon with the money she took right in front of me. She knows I can't do anything about it.*
His shoulders slumped heavily." All because I'm still weak."
He forced his hands to uncurl. "Do I really still look that needy?" he muttered under his breath. He shook his head sharply. "No. I won't let her get to me. I'm going to become stronger. Stronger than her. When I meet her again, I'll have to be."
Outside, Rebecca walked through the crowded streets, heading toward the transport station. The image of Tyler gripping his fists flashed through her mind.
She let out a slow breath.* Just another try-hard, trying to become stronger. It's always like that. After a while, he's just going to give up like the rest.*
She watched the bustling crowd shift around her. "People tend to give up when the odds aren't in their favor. They don't have the resolve.*
"Excuse me," a voice called out from the crowd.
She stopped and turned. A younger man in a dark cloak stood before her. Dirt smeared his worn clothes, and short, black hair framed his face. His eyes were a deep, piercing red.
Back in the shop, Tyler pushed open the door to the back room and stepped inside. The blistering heat washed over him. He found Hector using a pair of massive iron shears to cut through a wide, flat sheet of metal.
"Do you need something?" Hector grunted over the noise.
"No. I just want to check something real quick," Tyler said.
"All right," Hector replied, bearing down on the iron handles.
Tyler walked over to a small metal crate in the corner. He reached in and picked up a jagged chunk of raw iron ore.
*These metals are completely unrefined. It must take a lot of time to melt and refine this, but my system...*
The rough stone shimmered with a faint blue light and vanished from his palm, dropping into his spatial inventory.
*It refines metals instantly, turning them into ingots. But I'm not sure about raw ores yet. I want to see if it works.*
He glanced over his shoulder. Hector was entirely focused on the thick metal sheet, not paying him any attention. Tyler looked back at his empty palm. He focused his intent, pulling the item from his inventory.
A faint blue light flared over his skin. A solid, light-gray, perfectly rectangular metal ingot dropped heavily into his hand.
Tyler's breath hitched. He pressed his free hand against his forehead, a wide grin breaking across his face.
"It actually works."