Adventurer's Company was buzzing again, this time for the whole month without end. The world was turned upside down the moment Drake Antos announced his party. The air was once again electrified as townsfolk and adventurers eagerly anticipated their success, or failure.

  Yet, they did not disappoint. Their composition was virtually unmatched. With two A-grade adventurers and a powerful mage. It did not matter that there were only three of them, not fully stacked.

  They were storming through quests left and right. No matter what the task was. Rampaging monster subjugation seemed like a stroll in the park for them. So they switched their focus fast to the high-tier-level complex quests with the better rewards.

  With the main goal and eager preparation for the first low-grade Legendary monster hunt. They just had to gain the points and experience required.

  Seasoned adventurers saw no surprise in how the new team composition worked. With Drake's hybrid style working great. The young warrior was both soaking up the damage frontlining, acting as sort of a tank, while still delivering nearly unmatched firepower.

  Becoming the real spearhead of their party, eagerly throwing himself into the fray, no matter the danger. Slicing through the hordes of beasts and monsters alike with his obsidian-metal axes like hot knives through butter. The arsenal and flexibility of his skills were now well known and seen among other adventurers.

  Nobody could doubt he deserved his high rank. But plenty of envious looks were still around. Some were even openly aggressive and showing disdain towards the young man. Throwing insults behind his back. Drake heard it more than once, but he never once cared or reacted. The task was above all.

  Helena the Swordmaiden was a great example of a flanker. Slashing from the sides with surgical precision while Drake acted as bait. Which in turn allowed Valentina, now called by others the Ice Queen, to unleash the full potential of her immobilizing silly spells.

  It was hard for anyone to even remotely question their competence, no matter how they tried. Time and time again, the band returned victorious from the perilous tasks with nothing but a few scratches and tired faces. Yet always cheerful and animated, discussing their recent endeavors.

  Most of the young and aspiring adventurers now looked at them with awe and admiration. The proof of possibility. Dreaming of one day becoming at least a tiny bit closer to them, or even joining their party.

  On the third year of the tragic attack, the town was reinvigorated with hope, excitement, and joy. Scars were healing. Everyone could feel the changes in the air. And while some were genuinely glad, not everyone shared the same sentiment.

  There were more than enough vile glances and sighs of envy for their rise to fame and fast success. Or that the man was surrounded by stunning women. They tried spreading rumors and nasty stories about what was happening inside the party. Some lent them an ear, while most simply ignored and discarded it.

  There were even those openly calling the party out, that as soon as the actual threat would appear looming, they would tuck their tails and run, calling the newly formed party fake. For that, one adventurer received a pretty hard fist to the face from the timid demon mage. Helena had to restrain her before the things would go truly south.

  “Tat what I’m talking about! See?! Dogshite young bastards.” The crooked teeth man said, wiping the blood from under his nose before departing.

  All of that still did little to rattle the young spirits of three young adventurers. They could feel their power and synergy grow with every task. The more quests they did, the better they felt working together. On their second outing, they already applied the complex tactics devised by Drake, or so the young maidens thought.

  Drake's talent as a leader and his unmatched battle experience shone even brighter. Still boggling minds on how the hell he was able to achieve it at such an age. Simply brushing it off as him being blessed with an unnatural, legendary talent.

  Yet everyone who saw them at work told about the boy’s amazing spatial awareness, the use of precise positioning during the fight, as well as clear, perfectly timed callouts to his party members. Which became one of the most discussed topics within the tavern walls and training circles.

  Experienced adventurers and trainers were so impressed that they speculated he must have had a hidden secret that he used. Potentially some enhancements over party members, specialized aura, or skill that allowed him to take command of his comrades. The seasoned soldiers and knights still believed it to be just the overall effect of his commanding aura. Which only heated the arguments all around.

  Yet no one could even dream of cracking the actual reason the young warrior was that good. It was something beyond their wildest dreams. As Jake witnessed everything unfold from inside the young warrior's perspective. Residing within the confines of another person's mind.

  Time flew by fast, and the points piled up even faster. It was time to make a final call on how they would proceed with the party.

  Despite the fact they were top five in the rankings, they were still missing the crucial pieces to be able to take on the actual legendary quest. But most of all, they did not want to miss a chance.

  As it stood, there were no low-grade legendary monsters they could take on. Only a single quest for the real legendary beast was available. And that was the Void Basilisk at one of the dungeons. The beast of tremendous power, with scales as hard as mithril and fangs as sharp as obsidian-metal. Its venom was so potent that it would melt any material on contact like acid, even able to penetrate magical barriers.

  The issue was that they were not allowed to take on such a quest as a party of three. There had to be at least five members. And strong ones at that. So for the past few weeks, they had already put out a pamphlet on the party searching board.

  They opted to find another close-combat fighter similar to a rogue or assassin type, an agile in-fighter. And another long-range attacker. Considering their rise to fame, the band eagerly anticipated lines of excited prospects to form a line. All clamoring for the chance to join such a freshly celebrated figure as Drake and his illustrious comrades.

  However, it had an opposite effect. Those around them understood the implication and gravity of the expectations and the depth of their power. No one dared to approach unless they were genuinely prepared and serious about the challenge.

  Despite their rigorous standards, the party's list of required skill levels merely called for adventurers of low to middle B-rank, without exclusion of high-end C-rank. So there should have been plenty to choose from.

  But to the party members' disappointment, they got exactly zero applications while time was slipping away. Everyone was far too hesitant to join their group. And thus the three of them were stuck on their routine of high-ranking quests for a while.

  And soon enough they all were more than bored with this needless cycle. They wanted to shift the focus onto grander deeds. At least there was no frustration piled up concerning the monetary rewards and rigorous routine. Three of them were just enough to keep the balance up.

  Oh, man! Thank you, Jake. Your insights are invaluable. Thanks to you, it feels like a breeze. Drake thought to himself as he fastened his belt buckle, adjusted his armor, and tightened his leather straps. The young warrior picked up his gear bag and strolled out of the room.

  His comrades already awaited him outside, a welcoming morning sight. Huh, that’s quite unusual to see her up so early. She’s always been such a late sleeper. I suppose that’s the perk of being born a noble. Since they both have similar issues. Anyway, even she must be bored of resting so much. Hopefully this will be the day. In a week this quest will become a joint party Company raid if no one snatches it.

  “Morning!” Drake greeted his partners with a smile on his face as they went on with the planned activities.

  This day started as usual. The trio appeared at the quest board. Took a few extermination quests. Swiftly came back for the late lunch. Received the payments. Sold valuable materials and exploits.

  It was like clockwork. One could easily use them to track time. Which made the crowds following them easier. Fortunately, the buzz settled down over time, and their fans did not follow every footstep.

  “Sooooo… Will you tell us where we are moving from today?” Valentina puffed her cheeks with a grumpy voice, looking like an agitated child.

  “Yeah, Drake, it was so sudden. Did you forget that we’re actually ladies?! You just order us around. Telling us to cancel all the accommodation. I always knew you were to no good, but so much. Do you expect us to camp outside?! Preposterous!” Helen’s voice cracked a bit.

  “You are my comrades first, and… ladies, khm, second.” Drake examined both women from tip to toe with a peculiar expression.

  Helena’s eyes widened as she raised her finger and pointed it right into his face! “What?! A leech! I thought you were better than…”

  “Did I ever make you doubt any of my intentions?” The young warrior butted in before she could finish. “Or maybe I should not have saved your necks back then? Believe me when I tell you there’s a good reason.”

  Drake’s counter made the swordmaiden put her finger down. Hints of doubt dancing over her features. The young warrior looked at the demonkin mage. His face was as flat as the stone.

  “Why are you looking at me?! I’m not running anywhere.” Valentina responded with a playfulness in her tone. Drake raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, you’re not wrong, but the last time we were out for a few days, you dragged us into that dusty cave. Or remember that stupid dungeon investigation quest?! I hate staying away from my comfy bed for too long.” The long-haired woman stopped for a moment. Her face twisted with disgust.

  “Oh, no, don’t tell me! Are we going for one of those mining operations? Not happening, oh no, nei nei nei nei!” She jumped from her seat, bumping her leg against the table and getting her sword entangled between her thighs.

  “Ah, call me a liar, call me a pariah. Have you slept for the past month? Val, are you sure we’ve been in the same party with her? Maybe she bumped her head hard recently.” The young warrior scowled.

  “Drake, don’t look at me like that. You know, just, maybe she has…” Before the timid mage girls finished, she received a powerful butt to the side from the swormaiden.

  “What? I don’t get it.” The young man furrowed his forehead, while the timid demonkin brushed her shoulder.

  “Anyway, I think you know me quite well enough to know I won't do anything we have not discussed. That was part of the agreement. And we also can’t leave the town for long. Someone can apply. And we need that legendary quest.” Drake sighed, his face disappointed as he shrugged and scratched his pitch-black tar hair.

  “Yeah, Helena, no need to be so worked up!” Valentina grinned, looking at her friend.

  ”Okay, okay! When you both pressure me, how can I… And my memory is fine. It’s still just too sudden, so I was a bit concerned, that’s all.” Helena waved her hand dismissively. Getting back into her seat as she figured out the problem with her sword, metal clanking.

  “Well, Drake, I agree with Helena. How long are you going to keep us in the dark? You definitely came up with something weird.” Valentina's sparkling red eyes hinted at a glimpse of her frustration and curiosity as she murmured, “I hope.”

  “Ah, man! Why is it such a bother dealing with you two! Tone down the interrogation. Makes me feel weird. What did I do to deserve such treatment?!” Drake snapped with frustration in his voice.

  “Of course you did. Such a savage!” Two young women replied in unison, looking quite embarrassed and frustrated.

  “Damn, I knew that would be my undoing. How long will you keep reminding me of that evening? That was just an honest slip-up. Still, I suppose I've earned it.” The young man brushed the cheek.

  “Should have paid more attention to my liquor. Stupid…” The young warrior blurted the words as he continued to murmur to himself. His companions were now sitting with their hands crossed, judgmental looks shadowing over their beautiful faces.

  Drake looked up at them. Managed a massive smile bordering on the odd grin. Without a warning, he jerked to his feet with determination. Like he was rushing into the fray.

  The young man clapped his hands with a loud thud and finally said, leaning closer. “It’s been a nice morning, but I have to go now. Be good girls today and finish your meals. Diet is essential for an adventurer.” He paused, looking at two perplexed, frozen expressions.

  “And most importantly, don't forget to gather all your junk from your room. Those two massive backpacks I gave you should be enough.” Drake added, as he strolled out, without turning back to welcome the cool morning air.

  “W-what does that even mean! DIET your own fat ass!” Helena exclaimed, puffing, making a few adventurers turn their heads.

  “Yeah, why does he treat us like this? We are ladies first. Damn that grunt. But can we blame him? He grew up in the forest.” Valentina shrugged.

  The air was now filled with the evening moisture. Brick roads and pavements were already wet from condensation, rendering the surface slightly slippery and pushing everyone to watch their step.

  Drake loved the scenery of his hometown very much, every nuance and corner of it. He watched over the market stalls that were just closing. A myriad of people were heading out from the market only to fill up taverns or homes. Ever so eager to drink warm spiced cider or honey beer while savoring hearty bites of hot dishes.

  The sun was slowly setting by the western gate tower. With its golden rays piercing through the openings and casting long, dancing shadows on the ground, breaking into prismatic beams among the droplets of condensed water.

  A party of three adventurers exited through the eastern gates. The guarding knight silently nodded, opening his helmet in a gesture of wishing them a good luck.

  The dusty road twisted lazily along the edges of sprawling cornfields, flanking a quaint mill beside a shimmering water stream. Drake reveled in the familiar sights, memories still flooding back every time he walked here. Vivid, real, from time still untainted.

  It took them half an hour over the road, with young warriors savoring every moment, while two women trotting along chatted regarding their current earnings. Focused as ever to amass the required sums. Will they like it?… or… I just hope so.

  They stopped at a fork. One side led towards the main road, right to the Borok Mountain Range and the border of the empire. While the other neatly weaved towards the edge of the Gleaming Forest.

  There at the recently empty plot of land now stood a dark-brick, two-story, sturdy building reinforced with wooden columns. Its exterior, crafted from dark timber and sturdy stone, blended well with the natural surroundings. The wooden beams were intricately carved with swirling patterns, every etching carefully woven with a masterful hand. The bricks, a deep russet red, resonated with the trunks of trees around. It felt as if the house was rooted in the earth itself.

  An entrance was framed by an arched door, painted a deep forest green that blended with the environment. Flanking the door were two sturdy lanterns, the glass panels glimmering softly as the last rays of sunlight began to fade below the horizon. Illuminating the path leading up to the house, bearing an inviting warmth.

  The porch extended outward, its wooden floorboards creaking gently underfoot, adorned with potted plants spilling over with vibrant flowers that danced in the evening breeze.

  “Welcome. Home…” Drake murmured to himself, looking down.

  Then the young man turned around, and in a rush of emotions exclaimed, “Welcome to our new place! This will be our base of operations, our party house.”

  “W-what, do you mean… how?!” Both girls were dazzled as Helena stumbled for words.

  “Well, this is… It’s the land I inherited. My family's house stood there. Before. You know, the attack!” The young warrior’s face was a tempest of emotions, as the feelings overwhelmed him. He had to cover his face with his forearm.

  “Oh, sorry, I did not mean to…” Valentina felt the shift in the mood and was not able to continue.

  Both young women were confused for a moment. They simply froze, not really sure what to do. They never pried, but they knew most of it. The whole town knew what it meant to him. Both were hesitant, afraid to make a move.

  The young man saw everything that was written on their faces as he lowered his hand. “I’ll tell you more inside. Don’t bother; come inside. No need for heavy thoughts!

  Just like from the outside, the house was warm and welcoming, intentions clear in every choice made from planning to furniture.

  A faint scent of firewood smoke drifted from the fireplace that dominated the main living room area. The walls were lined with shelves scarcely filled with a few books and some questing exploits. Various herbs tied with delicate strings were hung around with a few pots of plants on the windowsills.

  The light of the fireplace cast a flickering glow, competing with the lanterns on the walls, creating an intimate atmosphere. Safe and relaxing. The head of the Azure boar was proudly on display atop the wall.

  “Hopefully you’ll like it in here. I did not have the opportunity to decorate much, but also, thanks to Head Councilor Welberg Dan and the support from the Adventurers Company, this place should be perfectly fitting for adventurers. Hopefully we will expand all our collections with more legendary exploits quite soon.” Drake winked with a massive bright smile. Adding to the overall warmth. Making the girls finally relax.

  It was time for him to show them around. The open layout seamlessly connected the living space with the kitchen, where a large wooden table stood at the center. A wrought-iron pot hung above the hearth, ready to boil with fragrant stews, while fresh herbs lay haphazardly on the counter. An abundance of fresh meat was waiting there to be turned into something flavorful. Everything here was cautiously prepared for the arrival of the owner.

  Aside from the living room and the kitchen, the first floor included a humongous wardrobe that could easily satisfy quite a big band of adventurers. A small station for basic experimentation and potion brewing. And a long corridor that connected the interior to the compact workshop with a forge outside in the backyard.

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  Drake rushed the party upstairs. The wooden staircase creaked softly, leading to a small landing adorned with handmade quilts and exploits from Drake's past explorations, some peculiar ones never seen before by his companions.

  Five doors led to bedrooms, one with a cozy, massive bed for the master of the house and all the others with two single ones.

  The final door at the end of the corridor led to the office, which, to no surprise, resembled the Welberg's cabinet, except for the exquisite furniture. This featured a simple wooden desk with maps and papers already laid out for their future planning. The cabinets lined the walls, while the comfy couch with a coffee table offered comforts for a longer stay or deliberations.

  This house evoked the dearly missed emotions within Drake. It felt surreal that he managed to return to this place. But the price… He clutched his fists.

  He was once again reminded about the amount of support he received from the townsfolk, adventurers, and even politicians. Along with the artisans, builders, and carpenters, who all did a remarkable job, putting their minds and hearts into this palace. Sweating every day to deliver the best results.

  The plan they made for the house was adjusted from the initial design. With the stone foundation and brick walls, it was now much sturdier and more spacious for the future legendary party of the young warrior.

  Maybe I should think about establishing my clan. All in due time, hold your horses, Drake! No need to rush.

  He felt a sensation resembling a heavy pat on the shoulder, something he wished his dad did. But when he turned around, there was no one. Yet the voice in his head resounded, reassuring and strong. “Way to go, kid, way to go! Keep it up, you’re doing good.”

  After telling the girls to unpack, Drake left his companions to wander inside. There he stood on the small terrace that offered a wonderful view into the forest.

  The inner yard was filled with a small field of herbs, thoughtfully prepared. A small shed on the far side was used to store the firewood. Every piece of this plot of land was used with practical precision. There was even a small training area. And all of this was now at his party’s disposal.

  His deep emerald sight fixed over the tree crowns and then looked down into the deep darkness beneath the trees. Who was the one trying to lay a claim on MY land? They knew too well what they were doing. Still, I doubt Councilor Welberg Dan would easily share this information with me. But I have to know, somehow…

  This sight reminded him more of his late father, who used to chop wood after a long hunting day, just to make sure they had enough firewood to last the night. Standing soaked in the light breeze, he dove deep into his memories. Recalling the time of his seventh year. The day father gave him an axe and taught him how to chop firewood.

  Drake grabbed one of his axes and clenched it tightly in his now mighty grip. Could I have imagined back then that I would be using this for an entirely different purpose? I must find them and make them pay. From now on, there will be no one and nothing to stand in my way. I will break any wall, slay any beast, and gather powerful allies. I swear to you, Father, I will become the strongest adventurer this world has ever seen. I hope your souls rest well with the wind…

  Emotions continued to swirl within him, raging and clashing with one another. This place was once his vessel of dreams and aspirations. The echoes of a past that shaped him.

  Stepping through the door inside, he saw his two young companions gleaming with joy, jumping around with pure excitement. Trying the cushions, checking the fireplace, the kitchen stove, and looking around every corner. Their eyes beamed with childlike curiosity.

  This sight made all his burdens fade away, at least for this day. Drake felt a warm rush of familiarity, a sense of belonging. The feeling that reassured him despite the changes in the world around, some things remained the same. Deeply buried fundamentals, like the roots of a thousand-year-old oak, stretching deep into the ground. Providing nourishment, steadiness, and comfort for every leaf that tried to reach higher, closer to the sun.

  He felt it in his thumping heart as he slightly touched his chest. It was the longing to belong, the urge to build relationships. The fear of being alone in this vast and ever-changing world gripped him from inside.

  Can I really tell them everything? Maybe, if the time is right.

  That night a party of three drank the tea that felt like it warmed the very strings of their souls. And went to their beds. None of them could remember the last time they slept and rested so well.

  The morning came. With the first rays of sunlight touching Drake’s cheeks with a warm embrace, he left without disturbing his sleeping party members and headed out to town. There was yet another important business to attend to.

  Late summer early mornings were always cool and refreshing. But the flames of the Ton Karakan's smithy were never cold.

  Until late evening and from every early morning, the bellows of the Volcalic Forge blew with the fiery glow like the dragon nurturing his firebreath.

  Just like any day, the renowned artisan was already working, drenched in sweat. Materials bent and shaped under his very will, like under a spell. The half-beastman had sharpened his craft beyond imagination. He was the epitome of the dedication of a single man to a singular purpose in life.

  Drake paused at the threshold of Ton Karakan’s smithy, his gaze sweeping across the shadowy contours illuminated by the flickering flame tongues within.

  The rhythmic clang of metal against metal reverberated through the stone walls right into his ears, resonating through his very bones. This crafting melody of artistry reshaped the surrounding space. It felt as if this place was a theater filled with an audience glued to a play.

  The searing heat radiated from the place, seeping through the windows outside, enveloping Drake in a suffocating embrace. Red flames illuminated the smith's sinewy form as he toiled.

  Ton was the revered smith of Vellos famous across the entire continent. He was known for effortlessly commanding the fiery cauldron while he fashioned glowing ingots into true artifacts of power. Magnificent bodies of armor that commanded both beauty and strength.

  His hands, etched with scars and calluses from years steeped in labor, moved with such precision and elegance that defied their ruggedness. Drake found himself captivated as the man submerged a piece of hot metal into a tank of cold water with ice. The hiss of steam, like a thousand snakes, devoured the piece. The bubbles and splashes resembled ethereal tendrils of ancient magic rising in the air, covering the massive form of a smith.

  The metal scale emerged back, glistening, fused with newfound power. After this trial, it became hardened. It looked as if daring for one to test its newfound resolve. Ton caressed the edges with purposeful surgical strikes, his attention fixated as he murmured age-old incantations of fortitude and guardianship that echoed through every inch of forming metal.

  As the young warrior’s heart beat fervently, the yearning to forge something significant was awakening within him. His respect for the craftsmanship had always been profound, yet witnessing its inception at the hands of the true master was an experience that rendered him utterly mesmerized.

  As if sensing the frozen gaze, the smith said, without ever raising his head. “Pay heed, Drake Antos,” he called out amidst the clamor, feeling the young adventurer's awe.

  The smith’s voice, rough yet warm, carried with it the gravity of his wisdom. “Craftsmanship is not just mere exertion. The process transfers your essence into every piece you make. Each creation carries a tale. Every piece must have a story to tell!”

  With another clang, he added, weaving his words around each strike. “I have to admit the black dragon scales you provided are something else entirely. What a marvelous material. It does not resist at all like the similar scales I worked with before. Almost as if they want to transform, as if it was their purpose from the very beginning, can nearly hear them whisper. Can't remember the last time I felt so alive.”

  The young warrior stepped in. He leaned closer, enchanted by the intricate patterns Ton carved into the pieces as each scale came together. Those were woven like a spiderweb in the skillful hands of the artisan master.

  Without respite, the metal continued to sing under every skilled, calculated strike. With every scrape and polish, it felt as if new secrets were unraveled while others buried.

  A dragon crest encircled the shoulder plate. The flames were dancing at the breastplate’s crest. The young man could see. It transcended the mere purpose of protection. It was a work of art, a legendary tale, instilling fear and admiration in equal measure.

  The armor he requested was coming alive right before his eyes. Drake's body shivered as the sight reverberated through every string within him. As if the young warrior watched himself as he relived time living inside the cave and crafting his gear with simple tools from the materials of the vanquished monsters. His training, his fighting, his fears, his success, and his struggles. It was all etched into the armor. How can he?! How is it possible?!

  He knew that his knowledge was limited; it was a process of trial and error, but with the help of Jake living inside his head, he managed something. But it was not words but universes apart.

  Snapping back into reality, the young man could not hold it in anymore.

  “What a marvelous sight. Are you really enjoying working on my project so much, Ton? Looking at this, I don’t even think I need to tell you the story,” Drake questioned, his interest at its peak.

  “Hah, so you figured it out. A sharp eye, a sharp eye indeed. And the potential… I can’t remember the last time I felt so alive, young lad. Indeed, what a great present for the old man. Nothing in the past five decades compares to this. I get that the scales are your skills. But where the hell did you get the black diamond ore?!” Sparks from the heavy hammerhead hitting the hot metal brick revealed a massive smile on the old man's face. The hot flares landed right atop his bandana, which stopped his gray hair from catching aflame.

  “That is a rather peculiar, or rather strange, tale...” The young man's emerald gaze fixated on each of the calculated movements of the famous artisan.

  Entranced, he reflected on his very own journey. The way he had carved his path through trials and despair, first battered and broken, then unyielding and full of vigor. Oh, the transformation…moding!

  He reminded himself how he wielded his axes with unwavering conviction, the resolve in his heart. But the question still rose in his mind. Had he truly infused them with the essence of his spirit? It lingered on the edge without release.

  This contemplation ignited a fierce craving within. He felt the urge to perfect the skill. Drake had to make sure that everything he did bore the mark of his legacy. An actual testament to his dreams, aspirations, and achievements.

  The artisan noticed the meticulous gaze of the young warrior. Gazing ever so lightly, he could sense the tug, the pull. Ton raised his head and looked into the dark emerald eyes. There! He recognized a hint of the spark. The spark that could light the strongest flame over the entire sky.

  “Lean closer. Let me tell you.” He dared the young man to hover over. “Concentration and precision are just the surface-level impressions,” Ton’s voice cut through the musings, jolting Drake right into the process.

  “A smith is like a true warrior in a way. You must surrender your being to the process, remaining entirely in the moment. The flame does not merely live inside the forge. Its very essence resides within you as well. That is one of many keys. Hold that thought close.” The smith continued.

  Drake nodded, his understanding solidifying with each clang of the hammer. He stepped forward, drawn deeper into the warm embrace of the embers inside the forge. The heat emanated not just from the tongues of colorful flames. He felt it clearly, and there was no mistake. Ton Karakan himself was radiating with the heat the same, if not stronger. It felt even greater than the forge itself, at least in gravity. A string of realization and inspiration filled his young, vigorous mind.

  He could no longer hold the question that lingered on the edge of his tongue for so long. “Will you teach me more, Ton? I've realized just now,” he finally uttered, his voice steady, echoing with conviction.

  The shadows covered the young man's face with an orange glow as the heat of the furnace enveloped his silhouette. His emerald eyes gleaming, sparks reflected within. Already entranced deep into the essence of the fire itself.

  An old artisan did not answer. He simply drilled the young man with another heavy, scrutinizing gaze and silently grunted with another hit of the hammer as he hummed.

  “You said it yourself. About the gear that I created while surviving at the Borok Mountain Range without any sophisticated tools. I know that it holds no candle to anything you have made with your eyes closed. Still, I want to be able to create something to be proud of.” The young warrior pressed on. As Ton raised an eyebrow at the mention of the mountains.

  The smith brought the piece into the final shape with a few more hits. Then Ton Karakan halted, lowering his tools, appraising Drake like a rough gem. Deep contemplation danced behind his grey, bushy beard as he flexed his shoulders. And with the final glimpse, he made up his mind. This newfound realization moved the old artisan to the core. He recalled the days of glory of the legendary heroes of the past when he created the first-ever pieces of the mighty gear.

  “Hah, well, just you look at that! No one would ever dare to propose something like this to me, but you did not fumble. Nothing ever stays the same. I’m getting older, lad, maybe too sentimental.” He mused.

  “Give yourself some credit at least, young man. The gear you had crafted from those materials with no prior knowledge and basic tools was actually better than any average gear shop can offer in this town. You are much more capable than you give yourself credit for. This is good, it’s Vellos we’re talking about!” Drake felt proud at the notion.

  “Let me warn you first. There is no room for slacking. I can't know or guarantee that you will be able to come close to any master artisan, but to hell with it! I like that attitude of yours! I’ll share my knowledge with you.” The old man shook his head. As he looked at the warrior with a hint of pride in his eyes.

  “Oh, really?! This will be the greatest honor! I swear to dedicate myself to the craft under your supervision.” Drake exclaimed with undisguised excitement in his voice. Glaring stronger than the fire of the forge.

  “Learning here indeed demands total commitment. Let tell you the basics. You must embrace everything: the flames, the materials, the hammer, the demanding labor, and even all the failures that will define our lessons better than any triumph. Remember, this is not a fight you can win just through your strength and determination.” Ton's voice resounded, heavy and demanding.

  “I think that I understand. And I will gladly accept all the challenges!” Drake’s heart raced in anticipation. Just as I shape and sharpen my skills, I wish to forge my future. Time to wield my destiny with these very hands.

  With a subtle nod, Ton beckoned the young apprentice closer. A surge of exhilaration like fire coursed through Drake, mingling with a tinge of soft anxiety.

  As he stepped into the forge’s heart, he felt he could touch the strings of the journey he embarked on long ago. That he could intricately weave his fate with invisible threads of those around him. This was a quest of transcendence. The quest to encompass the sacred act of creation. A task of bridging the two worlds of warrior and craftsman together, merging them into a new reality.

  And as the fire crackled, the air shimmered with promise. He felt a sense of warmth and promise amidst the ember’s glow, a bond that ignited in the crucible of the forge!

  He worked his muscles sore until the very late evening. That felt harder than his most righteous training. Ton gave him short tasks as his assistant while overseeing every action and providing guidance.

  The artisan explained everything down to the slightest detail but said that one must believe in the process and feeling itself. “Not everything that floats on the surface is what it seems. Tap deeper, think broader, feel stronger.”

  Wielding the hammer shaping the hot metal within the throat of a dragon, engulfed with scorching heat, was not a mere feat. It felt like Drake's massive stamina and strength were reduced to nothing within the walls of this realm.

  To his surprise, brute strength was not the answer at all. Countless times, Drake needed utmost delicacy. With every strike, he had to understand how much power to put in, which angle to approach from, and what part of the fiery metal brick to target.

  It was like a conversation between two old friends spewing back and forth. He had to ask a question and receive a sparkling answer. When asked wrong, the material hurled it in your face or burned your hands. But when the proper conversation easily transformed into a singing melody of the anvil and the hammer.

  It was glaringly obvious to the master artisan that young warrior Drake was entirely squeezed for the day by this evening. Yet impressed, he pushed it this far. The old man told him to leave the tools and put away his apron.

  “While you were working, I finished your armor. The only thing left is to cover it with the black diamond glazing. Bear in mind that this technique is my personal secret, so never share it with anyone without permission.” The shadow of seriousness covered the smith's face.

  “You should understand very well what sharing this with you implies.” The old smith raised his head and looked directly at his youthful apprentice's face.

  Drake stood silently as he nodded, respect and determination reflected in his gaze. The knowledge Ton possessed was immeasurable. And now the young warrior could understand his natural ability to connect with his creations.

  When Ton Karakan started the work on black diamond ore, Drake could see the real extent of this old artisan's capabilities.

  The man carefully put a small black chunk into the furnace as he tirelessly worked the bellows until the embers turned sun-white in color evenly, and the black piece looked like it was swallowed by the star.

  The smith measured the time the piece stayed in the throat of the furnace and used long tongs to get it out and drop it into the ice-cold water. He then repeated this process five times, each one precisely within the same timing, not a moment less or more. Precision achieved by tireless years of crafting.

  After heating it for the sixth time, he finally put the now glowing chunk atop the anvil and worked his hammer with an erratic rhythm.

  Drake noticed that each strike hit a different part of the chunk at a different angle. When the temperature finally fell to the point that the piece glowed orange, he swiftly put it back into the forge.

  As soon as it became glowing white again, he threw it over the brick of ice. With the hiss, the chunk sunk inside. The forge filled with hot steam.

  The piece was black once again. Ton put it on the anvil and took some special humongous hammer. He closely and slowly examined the piece, nearly touching it with his lips. And with far from a strong hit, he elegantly descended a strike.

  To Drake's amazement, the black diamond chunk shattered into thousands of small glass-like pieces. The artisan repeated the whole process from start to finish with the multiple chunks one at a time until he had a full bucket of small glass-like shards. Never stopping, never taking a breather.

  Finally, Ton put the bucket on a big, deep metal tray and sent them into the fire of the forge. Yet this time, to Drake’s amazement, when the temperature rose to its peak, the material actually melted into a thick dark tar mass.

  And that was when the renowned artisan explained what the glazing implied. Any armor glazed with this substance became basically impenetrable for any weapon. There would be no dents from stabs and slashes. Only strong, enchanted weapons could leave a scratch, but barely anything could actually penetrate it, unless the wielder was just too powerful.

  Naturally, there was a downside. After such a process, the material was not fire resistant. Afraid of the long exposure to high heat. That would make it lose any of the defensive qualities. Fortunately, unless broken away, it could be renewed by hard freezing.

  The glazing continued. Ton meticulously dipped each of the armor pieces into the substance. The moment it touched the black dragon-scale armor pieces, it stuck like glue. That looked like small tentacles were stretching to grab on the armor surface itself. The artisan then evenly spread the solution over each of the armor pieces with the special white brush made of azure boar bristle.

  After glazing every segment, he threw it into nearly freezing water for hardening. The blacksmith then continued to cover already glazed pieces carefully with various carvings while murmuring multiple incantations. Drake was hypnotized throughout the entirety of the process.

  And after all the tedious and careful work, finally, Ton Karakan weaved all the separate pieces together, and the armor was ready.

  Now the young adventurer stood tall, encased in his new body-fitted armor. Feeling like a legend on the page. While a striking testament to craftsmanship and ambition delicately hugged his mighty frame.

  The armor was forged from the scales of a black dragon, each plate shaped perfectly and glazed in black diamond, which gave it a glimmering sheen that caught any traces of the flickering light. Almost radiating.

  As Drake flexed his muscles, the metal pieces sang softly, a melodic chime resonating with the rhythm of his movements. Like an echo of the power contained within. The armor exuded a potent aura as if the very essence of the dragon infused it with life. The shoulder plates bore the intricate dragon carvings, its sinuous body wrapping protectively around, its yellow eyes fiercely alive.

  Flames danced at the crest of this breastplate, sculpted in elegant curves that captured the majesty of fire in a moment frozen in time. That was a truly masterful creation, with the soul of the artisan woven between its threads.

  A real statement crafted for a warrior. Embodying the spirit of those who fought not just for survival, but for glory, for honor. Instilling fear and awe into their foes.

  The warrior felt the weight of the armor settle around him naturally, both comforting and intimidating. The garment revealed another layer of its story. A song sung into the very metal that adorned him, capturing the essence of creation into a defensive gear.

  The reflections played with a multitude of hues, shifting in response to the change of lighting, making it appear almost alive and moving on its own. Shadows danced across the surface, enhancing the sense of power that surged through Drake. Like it was urging him to lunge forward right into the unknown.

  Standing before a polished mirror, the young warrior admired the appealing yet fearsome visage that stared back at him. The armor accentuated his strong, muscular frame, transforming him into an even more formidable figure.

  The combined beauty of the armor and his own rugged features invoked a dual sense of honor and fear. His pitch-dark hair matched the darkness of the armor. He could envision the gasps of onlookers while setting out for an adventure with his party. All the soft whispers of admiration mingling with nervous murmurs about the warrior clad in black Dragonfire.

  It was so much more than the young boy could ever dream about. He was wearing a piece crafted by Ton Karakan himself. Not only that, but the secrets of the art the old man had entrusted to him. Being recognized by such a figure could only mean one thing for Drake. He had no other path but to surpass every expectation he set for himself.

  Before departing, Drake thanked the old artisan from the bottom of his heart. And invited Ton to him at home whenever the old man wished. Mostly so he could share the stories of his adventures and legendary quests. The grey-haired man patted the young man on his back with a strong, heavy palm of acceptance. Ton looked at the warrior with a mysterious gaze. Drake felt its magnitude in his bones.

  “Let your hammer forge your story just as your axes slice through the foes that stand in your way. And let this armor be your fortress during the times of greatest peril. Don't waver regardless of what you will face.” The man butted the sturdy surface hard with his fist; the young warrior felt the impact.

  “And for the stories, I would like to hear. But through this experience, I have already learned a lot about your past. It’s one of the gifts that I possess. So now, I want to witness your present and see your future!” There was truth with hidden meaning in old artisans' words, but Drake could not yet comprehend. He could only barely sense that something was hidden there.

  That night he had returned home with newfound knowledge and an increased sense of purpose within his heart. The two young ladies eagerly awaited his return, as he found them drinking hot wildberry ale by the fireplace, giggling loudly.

  He soaked in the warm feeling within his chest as it reminded him about all the great nights he spent with his family.

  “Thank you!” Was the only thing he murmured with a warm voice and a tender smile on his face, before wrapping himself in the tender embrace of his bedsheets.

  The final revision and update for RR of this chapter was done!

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