"Hmm. That sounds fun. We can do that."
"Yes, I can't wait." She smiled, eyes sparkling with the thrill of a plan. "But you'll need to have a class before going back to the capital. That gives us four years. We'll need to train extra hard."
She stopped walking in front of a long, blocky warehouse that stood a little apart from the more polished shops nearby. Its wooden frame was scarred by years of smoke and heat, the iron-banded doors propped open to let out wafts of hot metal and ash. The hammering inside was steady and rhythmic, a metallic heartbeat that seemed to echo even in my chest.
"Haha, why don't we do our bonding sessions over training instead of tea parties?" I joked, hoping to push her into starting sooner than she'd planned.
"We can," she replied smoothly, "but you need to relax for a while. I don't care if you feel fine; you need to settle in first."
"Fine." I gave up on the idea with a little sigh, then glanced at the warehouse. "Is this the place? There's no sign saying this is a smith shop."
"Yup." She didn't hesitate. Walking inside, the noise grew louder, the clang of metal and the hiss of quenching water surrounding us. Weapons hung from racks nailed into the walls, others stacked in barrels or simply resting on long benches. The sheer variety was dizzying-swords, spears, halberds, axes, and things I couldn't even name, their shapes wicked and strange. There were even massive weapons lying carelessly on the ground, too big to fit anywhere else.
The space bustled with activity: apprentices hauling coal, journeymen shaping metal at side forges, and sparks dancing like fireflies under the high rafters. It smelled of smoke, sweat, and oil.
Still following Stacy, we pushed our way through the crowd to reach the counter, where a tired receptionist sat behind a ledger.
"Go tell Steve I have business to talk about," Stacy instructed firmly.
"Yes, Lady Stacy." The receptionist bowed quickly and scurried deeper into the store.
"Are we getting it from a dwarf?" I asked, lowering my voice.
"Yes. You got a problem with that, miss?" A gruff voice cut in before Stacy could answer.
I turned, blinking down at a stocky figure on the other side of the counter. He barely reached my waist, but his presence was like a boulder planted firmly in the earth. His beard was thick and braided, his arms corded with muscle despite his size, and his dark eyes peered up at me with a scowl.
"No, I just... never met a dwarf before," I admitted honestly.
"Is that so?" He grunted. Then he shifted his gaze toward Stacy. "Stacy, did you pick up a new friend or something?"
"She is my daughter. Adopted one," Stacy said bluntly.
"Huh, daughter? Does Dean know?" Steve raised a bushy eyebrow.
"Can we just go to your office?" Stacy cut him off, clearly not in the mood for small talk.
"Fine, fine." He turned around with a huff, waving us to follow. "Follow me."
We trailed him through the forge floor, past sweating apprentices and roaring fires, until we reached a side room tucked behind the main workshop. When we stepped inside, I blinked in confusion. It didn't look like an office at all-it was another forge, though smaller. No tables, no chairs, just anvils, racks, and a low fire.
"Steve," Stacy said with rising frustration, "we're here to talk business. Not for you to make us a weapon. Take us somewhere we can actually talk."
"What sort of business?" he asked warily, narrowing his eyes.
"Just take us to your real office."
He rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. At least it's just next door."
We stepped into the adjoining room, and this time it looked the part. Two couches faced each other with a sturdy table in between, maps and blueprints scattered across its surface. Stacy and I settled onto one couch, while Steve slumped onto the opposite.
"Happy now?" he muttered.
"Thank you," Stacy replied, smoothing down her skirt. Then she leaned forward, all business. "Now, I want you to make me every type of weapon there is in this world."
Steve's bushy brows drew together. "Why?"
"It's for her." Stacy pointed directly at me.
"Why does she need so many weapons?"
"She is still ten years old, and she is still level one."
"What?" His jaw dropped. "She's only ten!?"
We both nodded.
"So you want to find her main weapon or-" His eyes suddenly widened. "Don't tell me you want to do that."
"Yeah. I want to test the myth of the Weapon Master," Stacy said without hesitation. "Will you help me?"
Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Stacy, that's just a myth. You'll be wasting her time."
"Myth or not," I cut in before Stacy could speak, "I already asked her to teach me everything she knows."
The dwarf stared at me, then at Stacy, then back at me. Finally, he threw up his hands. "Fine, fine. If you're certain. Kiddo, what's your int?"
"Huh? Why does that matter? Isn't it strength that matters?" I frowned at him.
"Most people think that," he said, wagging a stubby finger at me, "but some weapons eat mana like it's water. Best example? Cross wheels. They need mana to spin properly, and you can even add elements to them if you've got the juice. So-what's your interest?"
"One thousand," I answered flatly.
Steve froze, then blinked. "I think I misheard you. Did you just say one thousand? Like, two thousand mana, in other words?"
"Yes. I have that much."
"What the-" He gawked, then slowly turned his head toward Stacy. "What's her race? She's no normal demi-fox."
Stacy only smiled, clearly enjoying his shock.
"Take that smile off your face right now!" Steve barked.
"It's not easy to surprise the Forge King," Stacy said sweetly. Then she looked at me. "Well, Kitsuna, may I tell him your story?"
"If you trust him," I said simply.
She nodded, then laid it all out-my past, the experiments, the curses, and the duke's crimes. By the time she finished, Steve's face was red with fury, his fists clenched so tightly I thought he'd snap his own beard braid.
"That bastard deserves worse. Dean let him off too easily. How could he do something like that to children!?" His voice thundered like a hammer strike. "I should go and resummon his soul just to destroy it-or lock it into a rusted dagger where it belongs."
"You can do that?" I asked, ears flicking in surprise.
"Yes. When I want to make a really strong weapon, I can use souls and infuse them." His tone softened, almost distracted, like a craftsman talking about favorite tools.
"Calm down," Stacy interrupted. "Let's talk about the weapons you're going to make for her."
Steve grunted, forcing himself back into his seat. "Fine. I'll do it. But you know it's going to be expensive, right? I can't make normal weapons for her because of her race's elements."
"I know," Stacy said smoothly. "Don't worry about money. We'll pay. All you need to do is make them."
"Alright then," Steve sighed. "We'll start small and work up from there. Give me a sec-I'll go grab some weapons to test her mana power."
He pushed himself up and stomped out, muttering under his breath.
I turned to Stacy. "Stacy, how do classes even work? You never told me."
"Aah, it slipped my mind again." She smiled sheepishly. "You need to become level fifty to get a proper class."
"Level fifty!?" My tail puffed out. "What's the max level a person can get?"
"One thousand."
"I see. That's a lot of leveling. But how do you get the class you want?"
"You train in that category the entire time before you reach level fifty," she explained.
"And how do people level up if they don't kill monsters or anything?"
"There's passive leveling from working jobs-cooking, smithing, anything really. But no, you can't just rush to fifty by accident. There are magic items that stop passive leveling before class selection."
"That makes sense," I admitted. "Then why aren't there more people with strong classes?"
"Because most people don't want to wait until they're twenty without a class," she replied, tilting her head.
"I see..." I muttered, ears flicking thoughtfully. "Second thing-what's mana power?"
avataravatar
Chapter 10: Mana power and Rebecas secret
The forge smelled of burning metal and charred wood the moment we stepped inside. Heat pressed against my skin like a physical wall, making me squint. Sparks snapped from the open furnaces in the corner, while half-melted blades rested on racks, their warped edges gleaming like wounded animals. Steve stood in the middle of the chaos, his hair wild, his thick beard already flecked with frost from my earlier accident.
"Mana power is determined by how good your affinity is for the element you have," he explained in a teacher's tone, clearly enjoying himself. "The better your affinity, the more potent your mana. And you'll also need less mana for spells. Combine those two, and that's your mana power. I can already tell your strongest affinity is ice. So, use that when testing the weapon."
"Cool," I said with a small nod, my voice flat even though I couldn't help but smirk at my own pun.
Steve ignored me.
"I have some words for you to test." He grunted as he lugged a bundle of weapons in, the blades clattering like metal bones against each other. Dropping them by the side of a table, he bent down and hauled up a heavy two-handed sword. His thick arms flexed, veins bulging with effort, before he shoved it toward me. "Here, Kitsuna. Use this sword first. Infuse your mana into it. You do know your strongest element, don't you?"
Taking the sword carefully, I nodded. "Yeah."
"Good. Then use that element to infuse it."
"So... I actually need to control the mana this time instead of just throwing it out of my body like usual?"
"Yes, you can do it." Stacy's encouraging smile lit up from the side like I was her favorite student at show-and-tell.
"I guess I'm lucky that I'm a reincarnation from a world that never had this kind of power inside the body," I muttered, weighing the sword. Its balance was good-Steve wasn't a hack, at least.
"Even if you are, it's still going to take a while," Steve grumbled, already sounding impatient.
Ignoring him, I shut my eyes and focused. The mana inside me was like a restless river, always eager to spill out and freeze anything unlucky enough to be nearby. Trying to guide it was like trying to herd cats-angry, sharp-clawed cats. I winced, but slowly, painstakingly, I pushed it toward my hands gripping the sword.
"Think of your element," Stacy whispered, almost like she was holding her breath.
Ice. My mind latched onto it, visualizing sharp shards, frozen lakes, and the satisfying crack of water turning solid. The moment the mana brushed against the sword's hilt, the weapon seemed to drink it in, pulling greedily from me.
"STOP!?" Steve's voice cracked like glass.
My eyes flew open just as the entire sword exploded in frost. A jagged layer of ice crawled from the hilt to the tip, locking it solid in a cocoon of white-blue. The temperature in the room plummeted. I could see my breath. Steve's beard had already frozen stiff, icicles hanging from it like ornaments.
"Did I overdo it?" I asked innocently, though the sight of frost creeping along the floorboards made me wince.
"YES!?" Steve roared, his teeth chattering so violently I thought they might break. His arms flailed at his frozen beard like he was fighting off an animal.
"Oops." I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly. "Sorry about that."
Stacy burst out laughing, doubling over until she nearly slipped on the forming ice patch. "She... she froze your beard!" she wheezed, pointing at Steve.
"It's not funny!" He barked, stomping a foot and breaking off some of the frost.
"Totally funny," I muttered under my breath.
Steve groaned and thrust another sword at me, one hand still working to thaw his beard. "Try this one. And this time, for the love of the gods, less mana."
I took it, concentrated again, and carefully dripped mana into the blade like feeding drops of water into a sponge. This time the sword glowed faintly, cold mist curling off it instead of freezing into a block.
"Better," Steve said grudgingly. "Do it again. And again."
Hours blurred by. Sword after sword warped, cracked, or outright shattered under my clumsy experiments. Some metals melted under the mana infusion; others froze brittle and snapped like glass. Stacy cheered every attempt, whether it was a disaster or not. Steve cursed more creatively each time, muttering things about "bankruptcy" and "lunatic fox girls."
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve leaned back against his anvil with a deep sigh. His workshop looked like a battlefield-piles of ruined weapons, scorch marks, frost patches, and even one sword stuck halfway into the ceiling beams.
"Like I thought," he said, his voice resigned, "this is going to be expensive. Stacy, prepare your wallet."
Stacy groaned, clutching her head. "I knew it would be bad, but why must it be the most expensive metal in the world!?"
"If it makes you happier," I piped up, trying to lighten her mood, "I think I can eventually recreate weapons with ice itself. My eye feels like another limb, and it's strong." I lifted a hand, conjuring small ice cubes that plopped into my palm. They were misshapen and wobbly, and one cracked apart before it even finished forming.
Stacy chuckled despite herself. "Cute. But that'll take years."
"Well, mastering weapons will also take months," I countered. Then a thought struck me. "Wait-can't you make the kingdom pay for this? I mean, I am going to be their weapon, right?"
Stacy blinked at me. Then a grin spread across her face like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's it! Hahaha, I'll make the king pay for your weapons! Smart thinking, daughter of mine."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help a little grin of my own.
The forge windows glowed with the amber of late afternoon, shadows stretching across the floor. I rubbed my sore arms, realizing how long we'd been here. "Looks like we're out of time for shopping."
"Yeah." Stacy sighed. "We'll have Rebeca handle the rest tomorrow. And we'll need to start studying tomorrow, too."
"She's going to be mad, you know that," I said flatly.
"It'll be fine. She won't be that mad... I hope." Stacy's voice wavered.
I just stared at her.
Before she could defend herself, Steve returned with a heavy bag clinking full of weapons. "Here are the prototypes I forged out of Adamite," he said, setting them down with a thud.
I grabbed the bag and tucked it into my dimensional storage. Now that I had better mana control, using skills like that felt almost natural.
