"Just drink some beer then," I said cheerfully, pulling a barrel out of my storage and setting it beside him.
Stan blinked, his eyes widening slightly. "Why do you have something like that with you?"
"I don't know. I thought dwarfs liked beer, so I got some, just in case." I shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Truth be told, I'd forgotten it was even in my inventory.
"You could have told me," Stan muttered, already grabbing the barrel with one hand.
"Okay," I said, tilting my head innocently.
"Let's get to work." Stan's tone lightened just slightly, the edge dulled by the promise of a drink.
"Yes," I said, taking my place at the furnace.
"Now. Let's talk about Adamite first. "What type of metal do you think it is?" Stan asked, already pulling the stopper from the barrel and taking a long gulp.
"It's weak if you know how to destroy it," I said, recalling my battles against weapons forged from it.
"Right. Of course it won't be easy," Stan sighed loudly, wiping his beard with the back of his hand before downing more beer.
[20 hours later]
"Yes, yes, just like that," Stan said, nodding vigorously.
"Really? It does look right, though," I said, holding up the small, weirdly shaped metal piece with cautious pride.
"No! You fucked it up!! Again!" Stan's face was bright red, his voice echoing off the forge walls.
"My bad," I said, watching the piece tear apart in my hands.
"Leave it on the anvil until it cools down to a solid!" Stan barked, his voice so loud my ears twitched in pain.
"I understand," I said quickly.
"Do you? That was the third time you did it." Stan glared at me, eyes narrowing in that same way I'd seen a thousand times over the past day.
"It was the first," I countered, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Third."
"First."
"Whatever. Just start over already," Stan grumbled, tipping the barrel back for another long drink.
"See? You were mistaken," I said, my lips twitching into a smirk just to annoy him further.
"Ugh!"
[35 hours later]
"Awesome! "I made my first Adamite knife," I said proudly, holding up the finished blade. The metal gleamed faintly, heavier and denser than anything I'd worked with before.
"Zzzzz..."
"Yo, Stan. Wake up." I nudged his foot with my boot. He passed out about twelve hours ago, leaving me blessed with enough silence to actually think through my forgery. His constant yelling had given me the worst headache I'd ever had.
"What?" he grunted, sitting up from the ground, rubbing his bleary eyes.
"I'm done," I said simply, dropping the knife into his lap.
"Huh. So we can move on to the next step," Stan muttered, examining the blade with surprising sobriety for someone who reeked of ale.
"Yes," I affirmed, nodding.
"Alright. Here are the blueprints for the next weapons. Now make one of them," Stan said, pulling a rolled blueprint out of seemingly nowhere.
"Just one?"
"Yes. It's a waste to make multiples of them. It's not like we'll be selling them."
"But they're excellent," I said, glancing at the neat sketches.
"It's from a no-name smith. No one would buy it," Stan explained, his tone dismissive.
"Fair point," I said, rolling my shoulders and heading back to the furnace.
[5 hours later]
"I am done," I said, kicking Stan's feet again.
"What?"
"I'm done with the axe," I said, holding up the heavy weapon.
"In five hours?"
"Yeah. Once you know how the metal works, the faster you can work with it," I explained with a grin.
"That's not how it goes... But to each their own," Stan muttered, shaking his head.
[2 hours later]
"One done."
[4 hours later]
"Three done. How many are there?"
[14 hours later]
"Ten done. Twelve to go."
[25 hours later]
"Finally... "I'm done," I gasped, dropping onto the floor. My muscles screamed, my eyelids felt like lead, and exhaustion pressed down on me harder than any hammer ever could.
"How is it going here?" Steve's voice cut through my haze.
"Yes, you can check all of them," I said, pointing weakly at the twenty-three weapons laid out across the floor.
"Hmm. You really are fascinating," Steve said, his eyes gleaming as he inspected the work.
"Sorry. I'm already taken," I muttered automatically.
Steve chuckled. "How have you progressed this much in so little time, Kitsuna?"
"Books," I answered quickly.
"Right. You do have the books from the Kunis," Steve said, clearly not believing me but choosing not to push further.
"Yeah. They're very detailed," I said, stating the simple truth.
"Can I read them as well?" Steve asked, still examining the weapons.
"Why? Aren't you already the best?" I asked, tilting my head curiously.
"You can always learn. It doesn't matter how good or how old you are. I'm sure you understand what I mean," Steve said, flashing me a small grin.
"That's true. I'll have to ask Mom, though. It's the Kunises', not mine." I shook my head.
"Why don't you ask the Kunis directly?"
"Politics," I said flatly.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't want to talk about it. I'll ask my mom later today," I waved him off.
"Alright. You can go home anyway. We'll start with the demi-god weapons in two days," Steve said, picking up one of the Adamite axes.
"Why not tomorrow?"
"I need to prepare for it, and you need proper rest," he explained.
"Oh, alright then. I'll see you in two days."
"Yeah, and bring more beer. I want some too," Steve added just before I walked out.
"I'll do that," I said, pulling two barrels from storage and leaving them by the door.
'I started with forty-two barrels. I only have seven left. 'That old dwarf Stan took twenty-seven on his own,' I thought, trudging out of the smithy, exhausted.
"Let's go home," I said softly, heading toward the mansion with heavy steps.
Alright, so it's been some time since I uploaded. Sorry for that. I was busy with some studies and other things for the last few months.
Here is an update on both of my novels.
Kitsuna has five more chapters written but needs some editing to be done.
Sazanami has 10 more chapters written and needs to be edited. The average word count is already 1500 before editing. So expect around 1800-word chapters for Sazanami.
I might not have been uploading, but I was writing. With Kitsu, I am very close to the tournament.
I have already started writing about it. That's how close it is.
Yes, the last bit is going to sound rushed before the tournament, but I don't want to write 10 chapters on fucking forging. I know fucking nothing about forging. And we have enough training for Arcs at this point. (There will be more.). Action will now be the main thing. especially with the arcs I have planned after this. time to go international. (in the story)
Now the tournament will be the end of Volume 1 of Kitsuna. I know it's quite a volume. 300,000 words for one volume. That's a lot.
Alright, that's about all for an update. If you have any questions, please leave a comment.
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Chapter 172: To the capitol
[3 weeks later]
"So, you have finished making the demigod weapon, but you aren't going to show us?" Kayda said, her golden eyes narrowing at me in a way that was both annoyed and, annoyingly enough, adorable. Her arms were crossed under her chest, her tail swishing in sharp little flicks behind her, betraying her irritation more than her voice ever could.
"Yes."
The single word hung in the air like a hammer strike on an anvil.
"Why?" she pressed, a frown deepening on her face.
"Because it will be my mother's present when I win the tournament," I explained simply, lifting my chin.
Kayda let out a long, dramatic breath, the kind of sigh that felt like it had been stored up just for me. It was exasperation incarnate.
"But why can't you show it to me?" She asked again, her eyebrow lifting this time. I caught myself noticing how she looked when she did that-how one brow arched with perfect precision while her lips pouted just enough to make her annoyance cute instead of threatening. She didn't even realize what she was doing.
"Because you will go and blabber everything," I said flatly, looking away on purpose. If I kept looking at her, she'd find some way to poke holes in my reasoning.
"I won't," Kayda whined, reaching out to grab my arm. Her grip was strong-of course it was-but the way she clung made her seem less like the mighty dragon sage and more like a clingy girlfriend.
"Kayda, you are critical to me, but you're still terrible at keeping secrets," I said softly, taking her hand in mine to soften the blow.
"I am good at keeping secrets, though," she insisted, her tone just a little too defensive to be convincing.
"Yes, you may keep secrets from outside sources," I conceded, "but if someone close to you presses for information, they will find it easy to extract harmless details from you."
Her eyebrow went up again, this time slower, her confusion clear. "... A demi-god weapon isn't harmless."
"Well, for the person it will be going to, it is," I explained patiently, knowing exactly how close she and Mom were.
"So, you're saying I'll spill the beans to Stacy the moment she asks," Kayda said, her tone sharpening into a glare this time.
"Yes."
Her lips parted in mock offense, and she puffed out her cheeks, looking away with a pout. "You aren't very nice today."
"I'm only stating facts. Don't get mad at me, please. It's for the surprise, okay?" I leaned a little closer, trying to catch her eyes again.
"I don't agree with you, though," Kayda muttered sideways, her pout still firmly in place. She sneaked a glance at me, then looked away just as quickly.
"I know. But it's for the best," I said gently. "It's only Steve and me who have seen the weapon. Not even his brother knows how it looks."
Kayda's pout faltered, her eyes sliding back toward me reluctantly. "Sigh... fine. But if I hear someone apart from me has seen this weapon, I will strangle you." Her tone was serious now, her glare sharp.
"Sorry, I'm not into that," I shot back with a straight face.
"Hmm. We'll have to test it before you decide that," Kayda teased, her lips curving into that playful grin that always made it hard to tell if she was joking or serious.
"Kayda." I said her name firmly, my eyes narrowing. That was enough to make her blink and back off with a small chuckle.
"Alright, alright. I won't sexually strangle you," she said, giving me one last jab before letting the topic drop.
"Back to serious things. Is the plane on its way?" I asked, shaking my head at her teasing.
"Yes, it'll be here in five minutes to take us to the capital," she said, her voice returning to its usual calm.
"Good to know."
"By the way," she added, "you finished earlier than we planned. The tournament starts in a week."
"Damn. What the hell am I going to do for a week?" I muttered, running a hand through my hair and dropping my head into my palms.
"Well, the Kuni children are coming with us. You could train them if you like," Kayda suggested, her voice careful, like she already knew what my answer would be.
I shook my head immediately. "No. There's no point in me doing that."
"They could learn a lot from you, though," she countered, although even she didn't sound convinced.
"But I can't test my new skills on them, Kayda. They'll die the instant I try." I spoke the words bluntly, without hesitation. She nodded slowly, understanding.
"Hmm. That's true. However, I am also unable to help you, and I apologize for that. Her voice dropped, sounding frustrated with herself.
"Yeah, I know. You're one of the tournament organizers," I said, my voice thoughtful.
"Yeah, and I fucking hate it," she muttered, her lips curling into a grimace.
"Well, you're a dragon and not really part of the country's upper logistics," I pointed out, shrugging.
"So what? My girlfriend will be in the tournament. Why don't they think I'll be biased?" she demanded, her wings twitching in irritation.
"Well, that's true. But you also oversaw my spar against the furry while being my soulmate," I reminded her, my tone dry.
"Yeah, but we weren't a thing just yet," Kayda argued, shaking her head.
"True. But you know how the soulmate bond can be," I said, raising an eyebrow.
Her glare softened into a small nod. "True, true."
"Anyways, I can't look after the kids."
"They're the same age as you," she pointed out.
"They're not reincarnations," I countered without missing a beat.
"Right. So what are you planning to do?" she asked, curiosity replacing irritation.
"Find some fights with the commanders and generals in the capital," I said, shrugging as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Kayda's eyes widened. "Ah, I don't think that's a good idea. Firstly, they won't take that smile."
"Yeah, so?" I tilted my head at her, feigning innocence.
"They're your colleagues. You might need to fight alongside them one day," she explained, her tone firm.
"Ah... I didn't think of that." I tapped my chin. "Hmm. Then I'll spar with Marquis Anabald."
That thought weighed heavily on my mind. If I fought with people on the battlefield in the future, I'd most likely be the strongest there, but the future was uncertain. Marquis Anabald was a challenge I could measure myself against.
"That isn't a bad idea," Kayda admitted.
"Yeah. But is she already in the capital?" I asked.
"She should be. Her daughter is joining the tournament, after all." Kayda nodded.
"Are all the noble kids joining?" I asked, thinking about that tomato girl.
"Yes, the noble kids in your age group are joining," Kayda confirmed.
"Hmm. I wonder."
"If someone will give you a run for your money," Kayda guessed, studying me carefully.
"Yes."
"Your sister might push you a bit, but that's about it," Kayda said with a shrug.
"Seriously? Only her?" I groaned, the annoyance bubbling in my chest. "Then what's the point of joining? I want a fight where we don't have to play each other like puppets."
"Kitsu, you always fight like that. That's literally your main fighting style," Kayda pointed out.
"I only fight like that because I always go up against people stronger than me. In the tournament, I don't have to worry about interference or experience gaps," I explained.
Kayda sighed, shaking her head. "You've gotten a lot of experience these past few months, though."
"That's not enough to cover the years of advantage other people have. Like that first guy I fought at the mansion-he was way stronger than me," I said, remembering the times I had nearly died.
