Chapter 112: Forged Dreams
Tyler had just finished explaining the mechanics of the Hand Cannon to the assassin woman in the shop yard. He demonstrated how the weapon functioned, explaining that it could fire virtually anything crammed into its barrel, from rough stones to solid steel balls, turning any projectile into a lethal round.
The woman's eyes had sparked with pure excitement as she thanked him, promising to return with twenty more customers. Tyler had gently told her to hold off for the time being, as he was currently out of crafting materials and skill-bearing gear.
After saying her goodbyes with a firm promise to return in a few days, Tyler smiled and waved her off. He turned around, entering the crafting shop through the rear door.
Surprisingly, Hector was not forging today. Instead, the older smith sat on a stool, leaning over a rotating grinding stone as he sharpened a finished blade. The furnace lay dark and unlit, its coals cold, suggesting he had no plans to craft.
"Hey, Hector," Tyler greeted, stepping inside.
"Good morning," Hector said, not looking up as he pressed the edge of the steel sword against the spinning stone. "It sounded like there were a lot of customers out there. You must have sold a lot of items."
"Yeah," Tyler chuckled. "We sold almost all of them. The only ones left right now are the rings. Can you believe it?"
Hector's mouth pulled into a smile, but the warmth failed to reach his eyes. He let out a low huff. "Yeah, that's amazing."
Tyler caught the distinct lack of enthusiasm in Hector's tone. He paused, watching the older man continuously grind the sharp edge of the blade against the stone wheel.
"So are you not crafting today?" Tyler asked.
"No," Hector shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to his work. "I've crafted a lot of items already. I think I'm running out of room at this point." A faint smile touched his lips, showing no teeth, his eyes still refusing to meet Tyler's.
Tyler glanced around the workshop. Stacked along the stone walls were numerous wooden crates overflowing with weapons and shields Hector had forged over the months.
*He's right,* Tyler thought to himself.
His gaze landed on a specific crate tucked away in the far corner of the room, recognizing it instantly. It held the exact same batch of swords that had been sitting there since the very first day Tyler had arrived at the shop.
*He doesn't sell a lot. He barely sells anything at all. How does he even make a profit?* Tyler mused. He recalled an earlier conversation where Hector mentioned taking custom orders for specific armor pieces. *He must make his profit strictly through custom orders.*
"What is it?" Hector asked, bringing the blade to a stop and looking up at Tyler.
Tyler caught a faint edge of irritation in Hector's face, a sharp contrast to the calm, patient man he knew.
"Oh, it's nothing," Tyler said, shaking his head quickly. "I was just watching how you sharpen the weapons, that's all."
"If you want to join me, you can grab a blade and help me sharpen it," Hector said, a subtle bite of irritability lacing his words.
Tyler didn't press the matter. He walked over to a rack, grabbed a steel blade, and picked up a nearby whetstone. Sitting down, he began working the stone along the metal edge. As he worked, he observed Hector's movements, the smith's actions lacked their usual smooth, nurturing care. Instead, Hector worked the steel with a harsh, aggressive roughness that was subtle at first glance, but impossible to miss up close.
*What's gotten into him?* Tyler thought, dragging the whetstone along the flat edge of the sword.
As Tyler continued sharpening his weapon, a sudden, loud snapping sound echoed through the room. Tyler's heart skipped a beat, his head snapping up toward the forge.
Hector stood holding the hilt of a sword, the steel blade fractured completely in two.
"Damn it!" Hector growled, hurling the broken half of the blade onto the cold stone floor, where it clattered against the ground.
Tyler stood up quickly, his eyes locking onto Hector's palm. Crimson blood was pooling in the center of his hand, dripping through his fingers. "You're bleeding," Tyler said.
"It's fine," Hector grunted, standing up as well. "I'm just going to put a rag on it."
Hector turned toward the showroom, intending to grab a cloth, but Tyler called out, "Wait!"
Hector turned back around, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion at the sight of what Tyler held out toward him. It was a glass vial filled with a clear, liquid potion.
"What is that?" Hector asked, staring at the glass.
"This is a potion," Tyler explained. "You can drink it. It'll make you feel better."
"Oh, so it's some kind of medicine?" Hector said, turning his body back toward the door. "All right, I'll drink it after I stop the bleeding."
"It's not just medicine. Trust me," Tyler insisted, taking a step closer. "If you drink this, it'll fix you up instantly. You won't need to look for a rag."
Hector paused, turning back to face Tyler completely. "What are you saying?"
Tyler held the vial out further. "Here, drink it and you'll see."
Hector reached out with his uninjured hand and took the glass vial. Raising it to his lips, he tipped the liquid back and swallowed it down. The flavor struck his tongue as strange and alien, carrying a sharp hint of citrus lemon. Setting the empty vial down, he wiped his lips with the back of his forearm.
Suddenly, a faint green and blue light flared across Hector's skin. Before his eyes, the deep gash on his palm knitted itself together in seconds, the skin sealing completely shut without a scar.
"What?" Hector gasped, stepping back in shock. His grip on the glass loosening, the empty vial slipped from his fingers.
"Whoa!" Tyler exclaimed, darting his hand forward to catch the falling glass before it hit the floor. "I told you it works," he said with a smile.
The vial in Tyler's hand glowed with a faint blue light before dissolving into his inventory space.
Hector stared at his unblemished palm, then looked at Tyler. "Tyler... just what is this?"
"It's a potion. It's part of my skill," Tyler admitted, scratching his cheek as he looked away. A faint flush of embarrassment touched his face after keeping the ability secret for so long.
"So you have a skill that can make things that heal people?" Hector asked, his voice low.
Tyler turned his gaze back to him. "Yeah, but it's a whole process where I have to gather specific ingredients and stuff. But that's basically it."
Hector let out a small breath through his nose, a bitter smile pulling at his lips as he shook his head. He looked down at his healed hand once more, then muttered under his breath, "You have everything, huh?"
"Huh?" Tyler breathed out, failing to catch the words.
Hector closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as he rested both hands on his hips. "Follow me outside," he said.
Hector turned and walked out the rear entrance of the shop. Tyler followed close behind as they exited the workshop, walking together toward the tree in the yard.
As they reached the tree in the yard, Hector turned around to face him. "Tyler, just who are you, exactly? I didn't really want to ask this since James already told me about you, but there's no way whatever he said could be true. How do you have all these things? How is it that you're able to do... everything that you're doing?"
Tyler paused for some seconds, caught off guard by the question.
"I..." Tyler stammered, his voice catching. He lowered his gaze to the blades of grass beneath their boots, unable to meet the older man's eyes. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you about that."
"Why?" Hector asked.
Tyler lifted his head, his face shifting into a dead serious expression. "I can't tell you about that reason either. Just know that if I tell you even more than you already know, something bad is going to happen to me."
Hector paused, his eyes narrowing as he pondered the words.
*Something bad? What does he mean? Does he have enemies that he is hiding from? Maybe that's it. There is no way an ordinary person would possess so many skills, even this ability he uses to craft. It has to be some kind of passive skill lineage passed down through generations. People with these kinds of traits are important. Is he some kind of hidden noble? But what would he be doing all the way out here?*
"Is this why you called me outside?" Tyler asked, breaking the silence.
"No," Hector said, shaking his head gently. "Tyler, I see that your business is starting to look good. I mean, you have already sold a lot of items to customers. You must have made at least one gold and some silver and that's all in two days. Not to mention that you must already have so much money on you from making ingots and being a hunter. There are just so many things you can do."
Tyler offered a small, nervous smile. "Yeah, it is a lot. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to do all of that, but I feel like I should."
"What do you mean?" Hector asked.
Tyler met Hector's eyes directly, his tone quiet and sincere. "You see, it's not like I just chose to have these skills, but once I had them, I felt like there was a need to use them. I felt like they shouldn't waste away." He lowered his eyes back to the ground, his thoughts drifting briefly to his past back home. "I see them as an opportunity to better myself, to become something bigger."
Hector's eyes widened at Tyler's words, a deep, sudden shift stirring in his chest.
"I see," Hector muttered softly.
*So this kid isn't doing it all for the money. He actually wants to become something bigger. He wants to fulfill his desire for a greater purpose.*
The realization brought a wave of bittersweet nostalgia to Hector's heart, recalling the days when a fire had burned within him just like the coals in his furnace, a ferocious drive to become the absolute best craftsman in the world.
Back then, he had held a vivid image of his future self: surrounded by endless customers, forging countless legendary weapons, his name spreading across the land until he was eventually called to the kingdom itself to craft fine arms for the army, or perhaps even the heroes themselves. But that dream had remained just that.
A Dream.
He had woken up to a harsh reality where he couldn't even count it as luck if a single customer walked through his door to look around.
Hector took in a long, deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.
"You said you wanted to know about rune crafting, right?" Hector asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, of course," Tyler answered.
"Well, I can teach it to you," Hector offered.
Tyler raised an eyebrow in confusion, tilting his head. "Wait, I thought you said you didn't know about rune crafting."
"Well, it's complicated," Hector explained. "I can't teach you the same way a person who possesses the Rune Craft skill can, but I still know a lot about the theory. Enough to teach you the basics of applying them. You can even use it to draw basic runes."
*But I'm sure last time he said he didn't know how to use runes at all. Did he have a change of heart?* Tyler wondered.
"All right, teach me," Tyler said.
Hector walked closer, resting a heavy palm on Tyler's shoulder. "All right, but this is going to take a very long time. It might even take you an entire day just to learn how to master your mana control while drawing these symbols."
Tyler took a step back, his eyes widening. "Wait, an entire day?"
"Yeah," Hector nodded, gesturing with both hands. "These are runes we're talking about. Although they might just look like simple drawings, it's not easy."
Tyler shook his head slowly.
*That girl is obviously still waiting for me. I've already taken so much time handling the customers and now chatting with Hector. I told her I'd meet her in the afternoon, so I have to leave.*
"I'm sorry, but what if we do it tomorrow?" Tyler asked, scratching the back of his head nervously.
Hector raised an eyebrow, pausing for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "All right. You have somewhere to be. Are you going hunting?"
Tyler nodded. "Yes, but the real reason I'm in a hurry is because I have to meet someone there."
"Okay. Don't let me hold you. You can come back anytime."
"Thanks," Tyler said.
The instant Tyler turned around, the fabric of the Gloom Coat materialized over his clothes. He walked out through the side yard of the shop, heading straight toward the outer gates of the town.
As he left the stone town behind and stepped onto the open green valleys, a thought struck him.
*Would it be strange if people actually spotted me just running there? During the day? I haven't seen anyone else doing it, which makes me feel like what I'm doing is wrong. But with how fast I am, people on and above my rank should be able to do it, right?*
He recalled how James had simply refused to walk back the ten-kilometer distance from the training grounds to town.
*Wait, do they think that simply running back and forth to monster zones is weird?*
A faint heat rose to his cheeks, the sudden thought causing him a moment of embarrassment. But pushing the feeling aside, he exploded forward into a sprint toward the monster zones without even activating a skill. Even relying purely on his natural physical stats, he felt faster than a speeding horse, in fact, he was certain of it.
Minutes passed, and the perimeter of the hunter base materialized before him. Tyler brought his boots to a steady halt, feeling remarkably normal. He had expected to be winded, but his lungs simply caught their rhythm as if he had just held his breath while standing still. His physical body felt no fatigue whatsoever.
He walked around the main tent and ducked beneath the heavy canvas flap, stepping into the interior. Behind the counter stood Serena, her head bent low as she read through a stack of documents.
Tyler shifted his gaze toward the far corner of the tent near one of the support poles. Sitting alone at a wooden table was the silver-haired girl.
Rebecca was already eyeing him the
moment he entered. As her gaze locked onto his face, her eyebrows pulled together in a tight expression of concern and confusion.
Tyler met her gaze, a subtle smirk touching his lips.
[/author]