7th of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd imperial era

"Greetings, Expert Swiftbeak," Dandelion formally hailed a white-haired man with broad shoulders and massive arms, who registered to Newt's mindcore as a third realm awakened.

"Dandelion, my boy," the blacksmith exclaimed with a smile, moving to clap Dandelion on the back. "Have you brought that ice jade you promised me?"

How many sharpbeaks can you kill with one stone? Newt wondered, but didn't interrupt what looked like a reunion of two old friends.

"I am heading out to get it as soon as I am done helping my friend pick some decent pieces of equipment." Dandelion stood his ground as the massive hand smacked him on the back and motioned towards Newt.

Master Swiftbeak sized up Newt, taking an extra long moment to examine his face and eyes.

"You are young, boy, and you already need my wares? How old are you?"

"Good day, Sir Swiftbeak," Newt greeted, discomforted by the amount of attention he had received, before answering the question. "I am turning seventeen in less than two moons."

The blacksmith's eyes went wide.

"He's a sixteen-year-old and already at the fourth realm?" He snapped his head towards Dandelion, then back towards Newt, frowning while taking in his red and orange robe. "Which order are you from, Young Lord? I don't recognize your crest and colors."

"Old Swiftbeak," Dandelion interrupted the blacksmith before he embarrassed Newt further. "Newstar is at the third realm, not the fourth, but I believe a superior weapon would further accelerate his growth both as a warrior and as an awakened."

The blacksmith relaxed slightly, and Dandelion continued.

"Newstar is a promising member of the scribes' guild. His primary weapon is…" Dandelion motioned towards the swords hanging off Newt's belt with his chin. "Well, you will take a look and give your honest, unbiased appraisal, but never mind that. This strapping young man will join me on the mission to bring you ice jade, so he needs a smaller weapon better fit for tunnel combat."

The blacksmith rubbed his chin absentmindedly, processing what Dandelion was saying.

"How good are you at spell seal shorthand and etchings?"

Newt stared at him blankly.

"He is just an independent." Dandelion helped Newt answer the question. "You need an expert, like me, to do what you need, or maybe you could gamble all the materials you have been gathering and all your hard work and leave your masterpiece in an independent's hands."

Swiftbeak clenched his teeth, looking towards Newt, but not seeing him.

"I'm not paying that much," he hissed through his teeth.

"You could ask Barb about his rates." Swiftbeak winced as if physically struck, but Dandelion kept talking in his signature cheery tone. "Or we could work out a deal…"

"What kind of deal?"

"Newstar here needs a sturdy short-sword," Dandelion left the words hanging, and Swiftbeak took embarrassingly long to realize what he was hinting at.

"You want me to pay you in advance," the blacksmith said incredulously, "with my valuable work, before you head out to gather the materials I need to complete my masterpiece? And then I will have to pay you more for the enchanting. You're a bandit!"

The former gang leader shrugged. "The price of all services you wish me to provide is some twenty percent higher than a fourth realm short-sword. How about we play a game of horseshoes once we return with the icejade? If you win, we say the short-sword was payment enough for both services. If not, I get to pick some more tidbits worth half the short-sword's value. What do you say?"

"I say that's a filthy robbery," Master Swiftbeak growled, "and that I can go to another city and have my masterpiece enchanted."

Dandelion rolled his eyes. "Yes, because wasting time, traveling half a season at your age is bound to be more profitable than paying us with a blade you can forge in a week."

Master Swiftbeak cursed, but Dandelion didn't blink.

"I can find someone else!"

He threw me out when I acted like that. Newt made note of that thought and decided he would use it to tease Dandelion later.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Old Swiftbeak," Dandelion said calmly, "nobody has even volunteered to bring you the resources you need to forge your blade of ice and fire, and the only other person who can enchant the blade within three thousand miles hates your guts."

"That's four hundred and fifty fourth realm crystals!" Swiftbeak implored when curses failed, and Newt's vision swam at the figure, imagining the mountain of wealth.

Dandelion wasn't as impressed. "And it costs you less than three hundred in materials and effort, so you are actually saving one hundred and fifty."

Swiftbeak frowned, considering the words for a moment before finding the flaw. "But I would've sold it for four hundred and fifty!"

"You would settle for four hundred once you finished all the engraving here and had nothing to do outside your forge."

Swiftbeak raised his finger to argue, but said nothing, considering Dandelion's words.

"You might have even sold it for three hundred and fifty if you were bored enough. So this deal is clearly advantageous for you."

"I ain't buying your nonsense, but I will give you the sword, if you promise to do the enchantments for me. As for the rest, we'll settle it with horseshoes."

You just bought his nonsense! And what are horseshoes?

Swiftbeak ignored Newt's flabbergasted expression, spat on his palm and offered it to Dandelion, who took it without a hint of disgust Newt felt. Once they shook their hands, Swiftbeak proceeded to show him the rack with short-swords he had in stock. There were only five, one overflowing with gilded decorations, making it look like an ornamental weapon you hung above your fireplace, while the other four looked like practical, lethal weapons.

One of the four lacked a guard. It was black and appeared extremely slick, reflecting no light at all.

"That one is for assassins." Dandelion noticed which blade caught Newt's attention. "That is the kind of weapon with baggage I warned you about. Where did you get it?"

Swiftbeak shrugged. "A mysterious stranger commissioned it, paid half in advance, and never showed up to pick it up. Been two years, and the waiting period has expired, so I'm selling it at half the price."

Dandelion shot Newt a gaze, as if saying, 'see?' "Notoriety aside, it is a decent weapon. Hand guards make little difference against saurians."

He glanced at Master Swiftbeak and grinned. "And we hardly care about discounts."

The old blacksmith snorted, barely holding back his curses, and Newt continued examining the three remaining weapons, but other than the slight difference in design, they were all the same to him.

"This is an early prototype of the blade of ice and fire Swiftbeak is trying to make," Dandelion pointed at a short-sword with a grip wrapped in white scales. "The fire-bronze blade is tinged with fire energy, and it will suit you, make your mana more responsive. With some clever enchanting and skill, you could even use it once you hit the fifth realm, making it a quasi-fifth realm weapon."

"That one costs more than the other fourth realm short-swords," Master Swiftbeak started complaining, but Dandelion spoke as soon as the blacksmith paused to draw breath.

"And yet you were perfectly fine with using a half-priced weapon as payment because it fit the description."

The back and forth continued before Dandelion secured the weapon he set his sights on.

"And what do you think about this?" he motioned Newt to show his fang.

"Well, the boy's got a bloody sword! Why does he need mine?"

"We'll trade you these two third realm swords for two of your third realm swords," Dandelion deadpanned, and both Newt and Swiftbeak shouted at the same time.

"Hey!"

"What do you even do with junk like that?"

Newt glared at the blacksmith, who shrugged. "Seriously, they are impractical. The long blade means it's hard to control your thrust and more often than not, they will slip, merely scraping against armored enemies."

Swiftbeak kept verbally bashing Newt's ancestral weapons, admitting they posed serious danger when slashing, but even when complimenting them, he found the straight blade inferior to the curved one.

"And they are too thin to parry properly, they'd break the first time you blocked a heavy weapon."

Trash-talking about Newt's swords seemed to lift Swiftbeak's spirit, but the man was still grumpy when they left his shop.

"No need to feel bad. Swiftbeak will get over it, and he will even be happy once I complete his fabled blade." Dandelion said, heading deeper into the second floor.

"I'm feeling bad because of how many crystals I owe you." Four hundred and seventy fourth realm crystals! How do I even start paying for that?

"Missions for fourth realms at the guild pay in fourth realm manarium, but even third realm missions will earn you the listed reward, plus some third realm manarium for completing the mission."

"What do you mean, plus some third realm manarium?"

"I mean, plus some third realm manarium. The imperials stipend everyone who completes the missions. If you put in enough work and pick tougher missions, you can earn a better living from guild's missions than from crafting. Our mission today has a bonus of twenty crystals. The more lethal the mission, the greater the bonus."

Newt frowned. "Wait, you're saying the imperial family pays the bonus for all the missions? How doesn't that beggar them?"

Unexpectedly, Dandelion burst into laughter.

"What's funny?"

"You! The guild is for wanderers of sixth realm and lower, its role to oversee the plethora of minor problems sprouting across the empire daily. Let us suppose they have a thousand valiants at the sixth realm, and that they complete their missions every week for a reward of one hundred sixth realm crystals. That is one hundred thousand sixth realm crystals, or less than one hundred seventh realm ones, or less than a tenth of an eight realm one, or less than. Do you understand what I am saying?"

Newt nodded, realizing how tiny he was.

"We are nothing before a tenth realm exalt. Even before a valiant, like Lady Frostgrave, we are barely ants. If she dropped a single crystal she uses, both of us could reach the peak of the fifth realm." Dandelion snapped his fingers. "Like that. This inequality is the reason we cannot be friends until I am at the cusp of her realm, and the reason why I will avoid her and avoid using her favor even if I am at the brink of death."

Dandelion stopped and faced Newt, glaring into his eyes and speaking in a heavy voice, his amiable smile gone.

"Weakness, my dear Newstar, is a terminal condition. One we must fix at all costs."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.