“I heard about the northern dungeon,” I hear a maid ask.

  I can’t see who’s speaking. I’ve just come back from my morning run and have barely caught my breath on the side of the mansion.

  “They say the number of monsters has increased a lot lately.”

  “Apparently a couple of adventuring groups haven’t returned from their last incursion.”

  “First Ena’s and now this one. I hope no monsters come out while the lord is in the capital.”

  The voices move away from me and I can’t keep listening to the conversation.

  I need to hurry, eat breakfast, and get ready. Today’s the day my materials arrive. Mostly coal and iron. I’d like to be able to use some magical metal like the kind they use in high-quality swords, but it’s very expensive and useless to me if I don’t know how to work it.

  I lean against the entrance of the mansion to wait for the cart to arrive. I have nothing to do, so I decide to take a look at how my stats have improved.

  Name: Termin Briemen

  Class: Blacksmith lvl 5

  Age: 10 years old

  Titles:

  Skills: swordsmanship lvl 3; hammer handling lvl 4; fire control lvl 4; basic fire magic lvl 3.

  Statistics:

  Strength: 15

  Stamina: 15

  Agility: 10

  Intelligence: 10

  Charisma: 6

  Luck: 6

  Magical Capacity: 25

  Constitution: 15

  Talents:

  Eyes of the artisan lvl 3

  ??????

  ??????

  I can’t help staring at my talents. If I don’t know what they do, it’s impossible to make use of them. Aside from that, my stats have increased more than I expected, though it’s true I’ve been training a lot. I can still feel my shoulder stiff from yesterday’s session.

  I see two carts approaching.

  “Good morning, young sir.”

  “Hello.”

  “We’re delivering two orders. One for the guard and another for you, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “You can take the guard’s directly to the courtyard,” I say, pointing to the side of the mansion that leads to the training yard. “As for mine, could you take it to the workshop? It’s a 20-minute walk.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s my job,” he replies kindly. “Hop up.”

  I climb up onto the driver’s seat beside him and point out the way to the workshop. Luckily it’s fairly flat, otherwise the draft horse might not be able to handle all the weight.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “You were just as Aneth described you. By the way, she told me to pick up an order she placed with you.”

  “I’ve got it ready at the workshop.”

  “As for payment, she asked me to tell you that the next time you go, she’ll pay you for this order if your work is of sufficient quality, and she might have another commission.”

  “Really? That would be great.” More commissions mean more money. Right now I’m practically broke.

  “She seems to trust you quite a bit for someone so young.”

  Personally, I don’t think she trusts me that much. Maybe she felt sorry for me and is trying to lend me a hand? Although I’m completely sure she won’t accept anything that doesn’t meet her standards. These past few days I’ve discarded quite a few functional nails that wouldn’t meet what she’s asking for.

  “Do you know anything about the northern dungeon?” I take the opportunity to ask when a silence falls between us.

  “So the rumors reached you too, I see. Don’t pay too much attention to them, kid. While it’s true there have been quite a few injured, no group has gone missing.”

  “Injured? Didn’t they heal them with magic?”

  “Magic only works up to a point. It can save your life, but you still need time to recover. And only the highest-level healers can restore lost limbs. One of the adventurers came back…”

  He trails off when he looks at me again. At least it’s not as serious as the maids were saying.

  We finish the trip chatting about trivial things. Apparently he’s married and has a daughter a few years older than me. When we arrive, we unload all the materials together and carry them into the storage room. Everything comes packed in crates.

  “Here,” I hand him the bag of nails I had prepared at the workshop. “Thanks for bringing everything all the way here. Do you need me to walk you back?”

  “No need. It’s a nice workshop you’ve set up here. Good luck.”

  After saying goodbye, I go inside to check the crates.

  Just unloading everything has already left me tired. With this, I’ll have enough material for a while. Unfortunately, the crucible isn’t ready yet, but I still have several things to do to prepare before it arrives. I want to have a mold ready to pour the steel into. Ideally, I’d prefer the steel to cool in the crucible itself. Too bad that would mean having to break it each time.

  Unfortunately, the mold is the only project I have in mind right now. I should forge some more tools, like hooks, but today I feel like doing something more entertaining.

  It’s time to forge my first sword.

  Among the scrap my brother gave me were two broken longswords. I already used one; the other is the one I’ll use now.

  There’s obviously not enough material to make another longsword, but I can make a short sword, or maybe a long dagger. We’ll see what comes out.

  Just by stirring the coal, the forge comes back to life. I need it to burn hotter, but first I want to have all the materials ready.

  I already have a barrel of water. I cut the remaining blade of the sword into three pieces of roughly the same length and grab an iron ingot for the mold.

  I decide to get the mold out of the way as soon as possible. The process is laborious. Turning an ingot into a mold to pour steel into is much harder than I expected. After more than two hours of nonstop hammering with the mallet, I finally manage something that resembles what I’m looking for. The edges are uneven and the interior shape is fairly crude. But it serves its purpose.

  I leave it to cool in the open air while I step outside to rest and eat something. Fortunately, working every day has made my body accustomed to exhaustion. My arm still feels sore and slightly numb, but it’s far more bearable than before.

  I return to the workshop.

  Controlling the fire is easier since I acquired fire magic. If I overheat the steel, it will burn and become completely useless. That’s why calculating the exact point is important.

  Fire control lvl 5.

  I strike the three pieces of steel against the anvil again and again. Little by little, they weld together. The gaps between the layers are no longer visible, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any air bubbles, so I keep hammering to obtain a homogeneous mass.

  Hammer handling lvl 5.

  Drawing out the blade is more manageable by comparison. I heat the blade, strike, and repeat. Over and over again. I’m drenched in sweat. It’s the longest session I’ve done, and it’s starting to take its toll.

  I think about my sister and my father. By now they’ve probably arrived at the house where they’re spending the night. It was at the Countess of the Valley’s mansion, if I remember correctly.

  The blade is practically ready. It’s very rudimentary, but I quite like the shape. In the end, it’s an appropriate size for a child, or perhaps for an adult who wants to travel light. Only the final touches remain.

  What will we have for dinner today? Fred and Rob probably won’t eat at home. They’ll take advantage of Father’s absence to dine in the city. With all the dungeon problems lately, they might be with the knights.

  The heat is such that I’m starting to feel dizzy, but we finally reach the final step.

  The blade glows orange as I pull it from the forge. I carry it to the barrel and plunge it into the water. The characteristic hiss fills the workshop along with the steam.

  Crack!

  The sound is loud enough to make me jump. I immediately pull the blade out of the water, but it’s too late.

  The blade is broken.

  I failed.

  The exhaustion of the day crashes down on me all at once. I feel as if I’m standing before the celestial ore at my baptism all over again.

  I toss the broken short sword aside, and it falls with a loud metallic clang, but I don’t even hear it.

  I go to the room in the workshop and collapse there to sleep.