Talia surged forward and seized both their hands without asking, hauling them inside the forge before either could protest.

"Come, come, come—you can't just stand at the threshold like unworked ore! Inside, inside!"

She positioned them before the anvil, then rushed back to her spot, eyes darting between them with fierce focus.

She whirled on Kaito first.

"You look like you walked straight out of the forge without proper tempering! What are those bruises?! Your body has stress fractures everywhere—did you take impact damage? Wait, wait—"

She scrambled through her pockets, yanking out various materials—wire, small metal pieces, cloth scraps.

"I should have healing supplies, I made a list, where's my—no, that's binding wire—not that either—"

Her face fell for just a moment, genuinely apologetic.

"I may not be able to help with healing materials right now. I used everything on three other students yesterday and can't restock until this seven-day tempering is over, which was poor forge management on my part—"

Then her eyes blazed like forge coals catching flame.

"BUT I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT TO DO! What if I forge you a really good sword—proper weight distribution, perfect balance for your frame—and you never have to worry about getting injured in the first place! Prevention beats repair, that's basic metallurgy! I can see you have no blade! Small wonder you're getting hit!"

She spun toward Kage mid-sentence, giving him a long, searing look—the kind a master smith gives questionable metal.

Kage's expression remained completely blank. He simply stood there as she circled him slightly, eyes cataloging every detail. Their gazes locked and held.

The forge fell into sudden, uncomfortable silence.

Kaito glanced between them, deeply confused.

'Are they... communicating telepathically?'

Then Talia burst out:

"AHHH! You must be from a Great Clan! We have to work together! Three smiths at one forge create better weapons than three smiths at separate forges—that's just thermodynamics! You—"

She pointed at Kage.

"...have perfect structural integrity. And you—"

Her finger swung to Kaito.

"...have good base materials but poor refinement. And me? I have the forge and the knowledge! Together we could create something LEGENDARY!"

She grabbed a nearby blade—one of seventeen scattered around—and thrust it toward Kaito.

"Here! Take this one! I made it this morning with a 72-centimeter blade length for someone with your arm reach—the weight distribution favors defensive recovery, which you clearly need based on those bruises—"

Then she snatched up another blade, examining it critically before looking back at Kage.

"And this one... wait, you don't have a weapon either, do you? Perfect! That means I get to match you properly from scratch instead of compensating for bad habits formed with poorly balanced equipment!"

She held up the blade, tilting it in the moonlight streaming through the broken roof.

"This one's 68 centimeters, shorter than his—"

She gestured at Kaito without looking.

"...because your center of gravity is lower and your shoulder width suggests you favor close-range precision over sweeping arcs. The tang is reinforced for impact absorption, and I used a three-layer folding technique that—"

She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening.

"Oh! Oh no, I haven't even asked your names yet! Or your clans! Or your weapon preferences! What if you're a spear user and I've been assuming swords this whole time?! That would be terrible forge management, assuming the material before assessing the application!"

She thrust both blades toward them.

"Here, here, take these for now, we can adjust later but first: Names! Clans! Cultivation levels! Weapon preferences! Combat style—defensive, aggressive, or balanced? Any injuries I should account for in the weight distribution? Dietary restrictions in case I find food? Do you have allergies?!"

She took a breath, barely.

"Because proper forge alliance means knowing your materials and you're both clearly high-quality base materials that just need proper refinement and—why are you both staring at me like that?"

Kage continued to stare.

'She's been talking for seven minutes and in those seven minutes she's held my hand three times. The next time she touches me again, I will knock her out for sure.'

Kage looked at the sword in his hands.

'But... this... is amazing.'

Kage turned the blade over in his hands, examining it with the kind of attention most people reserved for sacred texts. The weight distribution was perfect—not just good, but precisely calibrated for someone with his build and reach. The three-layer folding technique she'd mentioned was visible in the subtle pattern along the blade, each layer distinct yet seamlessly integrated.

'Seventeen blades in eighteen hours. And each one…'

He tested the balance point and found it exactly where it should be. Checked the tang reinforcement—flawless. Even the grip wrapping showed consideration for hand size and probable fighting style.

'...each one is this quality.'

His first life had taught him to recognize master-level work. This wasn't just competent forging—this was the kind of craftsmanship that took most smiths decades to achieve. And she was fifteen.

Talia was practically bouncing on her toes, waiting for... something. Praise? Questions? Any response at all?

Kaito spoke first, holding his own blade with visible uncertainty.

"I'm Kaito. Hirose. Minor Clan."

He paused, clearly weighing how much to reveal.

"No great clan affiliation. I... prefer defensive combat, I suppose. Though I haven't—"

"EXCELLENT!"

Talia interrupted, beaming.

"Defensive style with that reach means you need edge retention over cutting power—that blade has a slightly harder edge geometry to maintain sharpness through prolonged blocking! And Hirose—I know that clan! You're from the eastern territories, right? Your family has that beautiful moon-viewing pavilion that—"

Kaito frowned slightly.

"How do you know about—"

"I read everything!"

She whirled back to Kage, who hadn't moved or spoken.

"And you? Name? Clan? You're clearly high-born, your posture screams formal training even if your meridians are a complete disaster—no offense—actually yes offense because who let your cultivation channels get that polluted? That's like leaving metal in acid, it's just cruel—"

Kage's eyes narrowed slightly. She'd assessed his meridians within minutes of meeting. That level of sensitivity was...

'I hate prodigies.'

He said in a flat voice:

"Kage. No clan worth mentioning."

Talia protested.

"That's not a real answer! Everyone has—"

"No clan."

Kage repeated, his tone suggesting the subject was closed.

Talia's excitement dimmed slightly. She tilted her head, studying him with those too-bright amber eyes and spoke in a quieter voice, but no less intense.

"Your structure is really strange. Like... differential hardening is the closest metaphor I have, but it's not quite right. You're not just strong-outside-weak-inside or vice versa. You're more like..."

She made a frustrated gesture.

"Like someone took two completely different metals and forge-welded them together. But forge-welding requires heat and pressure and TIME, and you're only fifteen, so how did—"

"The blade is adequate."

Kage interrupted, lifting it slightly.

"Thank you."

He turned to leave.

"WAIT!"

Talia lunged forward, stopping just short of grabbing him again—she'd apparently processed his earlier reaction to being touched.

"You can't just leave! I haven't finished assessment! And you haven't told me your weapon preference or combat style or—"

"I don't have a combat style."

"Everyone has a combat style! Even if it's 'flail around and hope for the best,' that's still a style! A terrible one, but—"

"I don't fight."

Kage said, meeting her eyes with that flat, empty expression.

Talia blinked.

"But... you move like someone who's fought hundreds of—"

"I. Don't. Fight."

The silence stretched. Kaito shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to escape but also morbidly curious about how this would resolve.

Talia's enthusiasm finally dimmed, replaced by something more thoughtful. She studied Kage with the same intensity she'd given the blade before forging it—looking for the stress points, the weak joints, the places where pressure would cause fracture.

"You're lying. Or... no. Not lying. You're saying something true that means something different than what the words say. Like... like calling cast iron 'not metal' because it's too brittle to forge. Technically true, but missing the point entirely."

Kage's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. Just for a moment.

'She's…'

He pushed the thought away.

"The blade is well-crafted. If that's all—"

"It's not all!"

Talia's voice pitched higher.

"You both just arrived, you clearly need supplies and information and probably food and definitely better equipment planning, and I've been here since yesterday afternoon with no one to teach my hybrid forging techniques to, which is a waste of knowledge that could improve everyone's—"

Kage observed her for several beats, then asked:

"Why?"

Talia stopped mid-sentence.

"...Why what?"

"Why help us? What do you gain?"

The confusion on her face was so genuine it was almost painful to watch.

"I... what? I don't—that's not how forges work. When three smiths work together, the weapons improve. When knowledge is shared, everyone's technique advances. That's just... that's basic thermodynamics. Heat disperses, it doesn't concentrate unless you actively direct it. So you share the heat, you share the work, you share the knowledge, and the final product is stronger than any one person could—"

"I don't think she wants anything."

Kaito said quietly, surprising both of them. He was staring at Talia with something between wonder and concern.

"She actually just... helps. Because she thinks she should."

"EXACTLY!"

Talia beamed at him.

"See, he understands forge philosophy!"

Kaito winced.

"I'm not sure that's a compliment."

Kage felt something cold settle in his chest. This girl—this aggressively helpful, exhaustingly talkative, impossibly skilled girl—was going to get herself killed. Someone would exploit that openness, that generosity, that complete lack of self-preservation instinct disguised as cooperation philosophy. And the most beautiful part was, that someone could even be him.

'Not my problem.'

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