The next morning, Vastarael woke up to noise of the city. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then let out a slow sigh.
Biolumine was still asleep on the floor in cat form, curled where the warm Soul Energy from her maw had left the stone pleasantly heated through the night. She was not concerned with whatever the city was undergoing. Vastarael rose, stretched once and headed at the door. The moment he reached the landing above the reception area, he heard an argument.
"I'm telling you, this is unacceptable."
The voice belonged to a young woman.
At the desk below, the same cheerful receptionist from the day before stood with a polite smile that had started to look strained around the edges.
"I understand your frustration, miss, but the hotel is full."
The woman in question stood surrounded by bodyguards, each one large and serious enough to make it obvious she was used to being obeyed. She was young, richly dressed and furious in a way spoiled people became when the world failed to meet their expectations. Her expression was pinched with outrage.
"I do not care that it is full. Find a room."
The receptionist maintained her smile with visible effort.
"We've already checked. There aren't any available."
"That is your problem."
"I'm afraid it isn't."
The young lady's eyes narrowed. "Then get me something better."
The receptionist's smile got thinner.
"There is nothing better available, my lady."
One of her bodyguards shifted uncomfortably behind her, clearly anticipating a long morning of this.
"You're telling me that a hotel in a city this size has no rooms left?"
"Yes, miss."
"That's absurd."
"I didn't make the bookings, miss."
"Then throw someone out!"
"That is not how lodging works."
"It is if I say it is."
That was when one of the men waiting nearby, apparently too eager to feel relevant, spoke up a little too loudly.
"The man took the last room."
The entire lobby shifted. A dozen heads turned. All the attention turned towards Vastarael, who had just reached the upper landing and was standing there. The man who had spoken was young, richly dressed, and wearing the sort of smug little smile that suggested he believed he had just improved the room's entertainment. He looked at Vastarael, then at the young lady, and stepped forward with the exaggerated courtesy of someone who knew exactly how annoying he was being. He bowed.
"Apologies for the eavesdropping," he said, not sounding apologetic at all. "But this man took the last room."
Vastarael groaned under his breath. He could already feel where this was going. The young lady turned on him immediately.
"Then hand it over."
Vastarael stared at her. The lobby around them got very quiet. He did not raise his voice. His energy rose just enough that the man who had spoken earlier froze in place. The smugness drained off his face. A few of the bodyguards flinched at the change in Vastarael's energy The young lady, however, only lifted her chin higher.
"You heard me. Give me your room."
Vastarael looked at her for a long second, then glanced around the lobby, taking in the bodyguards, the receptionist, the gawking guests, and the idiot who had started the whole mess.
"Are there no other fancy hotels in the city?"
"What?"
"Why pick this one?"
"I don't answer to commoners."
Vastarael's expression went flat.
"Then I'll leave."
The young woman's eyes widened. Vastarael turned away as if she were no longer important enough to face directly and started walking back the way he'd come.
"I'm not the sort to talk with fancy spoiled bitches anyway."
A few sharp gasps cut through the lobby immediately. The young lady went red.
"How dare you—"
She snapped her fingers.
"Get him."
Her bodyguards moved at once. Or tried to, at least. Vastarael released his Divine Presence.
The bodyguards hit the floor all at once, kneeling involuntarily under pressure they couldn't understand and couldn't resist. Their hands shook. Their teeth clenched. The stone beneath them creaked softly as their bodies were forced down by something far beyond strength. The young lady stumbled back a step, suddenly aware that she had made a very bad decision.
Vastarael kept walking. He didn't even look at them as he passed. Instead, he headed straight toward her.
"I'd appreciate it if you had some common sense before challenging people you don't understand."
The young lady swallowed. The lobby was dead silent now. Then, in the middle of that silence, a sword came flying out of nowhere.
It was aimed straight for Vastarael's head. He stopped it with two fingers.
The blade trembled in place. Vastarael glanced at it, tightened his fingers and snapped the weapon clean in half. He didn't even turn around. Instead, he spoke to the air behind him.
"Is a proper greeting too much for spoiled rich kids?"
A woman's scoffing voice answered from behind the crowd.
"He's no joke."
The bodyguards were still on the floor. The young lady had gone pale. Her expression changed as another woman moved forward through the lobby. This one was different.
She wore a knight's uniform built for authority rather than vanity. Her posture alone made the room understand she was not the sort to be pushed around. The young lady rushed behind her like a child running to hide behind a wall.
"Sister! He harassed me so punish him!"
The knight stopped in front of Vastarael and studied him. Vastarael slowly lifted his hand to the faceless mask he'd been wearing and removed it. Faces went blank. Eyes widened. A few people actually forgot to breathe.
Without the mask, his face was impossible to ignore. It was striking enough to make people stop thinking in full sentences. Even the young lady, still hiding behind her sister, stared at him now like her anger had been interrupted by much more dangerous feelings. The knight's eyes flicked over him once, then again, and she understood in an instant what kind of man stood in front of her.
He was definitely not somebody her sister had any business provoking. Vastarael looked back at the young lady, then at the knight and scoffed softly.
"I'm keeping my room. I don't want trouble. Let this pass like it never happened."
The knight said nothing for a while, then gave a slow, reluctant nod.
"Agreed."
She turned to look at her sister, whose face had gone from outrage to stunned fascination.
"Apologize."
The young lady opened her mouth, clearly ready to object. The knight slapped her before she could shout more insults. A collective gasp went through the lobby.
The young lady froze with hand rising to her cheek in disbelief. Her sister's voice dropped into something cold and deadly.
"He's strong enough to kill everyone in this room and you're still provoking him?"
The young lady went silent. Not everyone in the lobby had been looking at the same thing. Some had only seen a handsome stranger refusing a spoiled noblewoman. The knight had seen something else entirely. She had felt the pressure in the air when Vastarael's Divine Presence dropped. She had seen the bodyguards collapse. She had seen the sword fail. She knew exactly what kind of mistake her sister had nearly made.
The young lady had not.
The knight turned then to the man who had been eavesdropping and started this entire mess.
"Do not involve yourself in business that does not belong to you."
The man, who had been smirking earlier, suddenly found a deep interest in the floor.
"Apologies."
"Good."
He left quickly after that.
The receptionist, who had been watching all of this, finally let out the breath she'd been holding. The bodyguards slowly got back to their feet, still pale and shaken. Vastarael put his mask back on and turned to the knight.
"I'll keep the room. That's all I want."
"Understood. I apologize on my sister's behalf."
The young lady still looked half-struck and half-offended but she no longer had the courage to say anything. Vastarael gave one final glance around the lobby and left the hotel. All this time, Bio was still sleeping peacefully.
-----
The blacksmith shop was impossible to miss.
Even from outside, the constant ringing of metal against metal echoed through the street. Smoke drifted from chimneys built into the stone structure and every few seconds another burst of orange light flashed through the open windows.
Veneri stepped inside.
The interior was massive. Rows of furnaces lined the walls. Sparks flew through the air as blacksmiths kept hammering glowing metal on anvils. The smell of coal, steel, sweat and molten ore filled the building.
He paused for a moment and simply observed. One blacksmith was forging a curved saber, repeatedly folding the metal before hammering it flat again. Another was creating a spearhead, carefully carving channels into the blade to reduce weight while maintaining durability. Further back, several apprentices were pumping bellows while an older craftsman supervised them, occasionally slapping someone upside the head when they made a mistake.
Veneri smiled. It reminded him of Adelasta's father teaching him Forgery. The old man was one of the finest smiths he had ever met. Even now, Veneri respected his work immensely. That's why he never improved Calimostria's design. It was Landle's best masterpiece and he didn't think of changing it one bit.
That was when something caught his eye. Near the center of the lobby stood a giant sword displayed on a pedestal. The sword was beautiful. The proportions were perfect. The weight distribution was almost flawless. The grain of the metal was uniform throughout the blade. Even the guard and pommel had been balanced to work with the weapon rather than simply decorate it.
Veneri approached it. A few blacksmiths noticed his interest.
"Very skilled."
One of the nearby smiths grinned proudly.
"It was made by Master Agnar."
Veneri studied the blade for another few seconds.
"He's talented, but he's not a Mystical Forger."
The blacksmith froze. The smile vanished. Several nearby craftsmen looked over immediately. Veneri could tell it so easily. The sword possessed incredible craftsmanship but lacked the invisible perfection that came from enchanting materials on a deeper level. The creator had reached the peak of conventional forging but not Mystical Forging.
Yet.
A woman behind the counter approached him. She was young and attractive, dressed in the shop's uniform and carrying a ledger.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"I'd like to see the head blacksmith."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
"Then you can't see him."
"That's unfortunate."
The woman smiled politely.
"Master Agnar doesn't meet random visitors."
"I'm a Forger."
She looked him up and down, then looked him up and down again. Her professional smile faltered because frankly... he didn't look like a blacksmith. He looked like the protagonist of a romance novel. The idea of him spending his days sweating in front of a furnace felt absurd.
A faint blush appeared on her cheeks.
"Even so," she said, recovering herself, "you still need an appointment."
"How do I get one?"
She glanced at the forge floor.
"There are two options. You either demonstrate your skills in the workshop... or you pay two million Isuone."
Veneri immediately chose.
"The workshop."
The receptionist clearly thought he was bluffing. Still, she nodded.
"Very well."
A few minutes later, she led him toward a group of working blacksmiths. The moment they saw him, several raised their eyebrows.
"Who's the pretty boy?"
Another laughed.
"Lost your way to a noble banquet?"
The receptionist sighed.
"He claims he's a Forger."
The entire group burst into laughter. One older smith nearly dropped his hammer.
"A Forger?"
"This guy?"
"He'll break his hands before he shapes metal!"
Veneri ignored them.
"Can I try?"
The oldest blacksmith grinned.
"Sure."
He handed over his hammer. The thing was enormous. It was practically a block of metal attached to a thick reinforced handle. It was heavy enough that normal Immortals struggled to lift it. The blacksmith clearly expected him to embarrass himself.
Instead, Veneri picked it up effortlessly.
The laughter stopped. The smith blinked. Veneri weighed the hammer in one hand and frowned.
"Too heavy."
The blacksmith smirked.
"Too much for you?"
Veneri shook his head.
"No, not that."
The hammer struck the anvil, causing a shockwave. Several papers flew off nearby tables. People stumbled. Thars when they noticed that the hammer had split down the middle. Veneri stared at the broken weapon and clicked his tongue.
"Too weak. It's not balanced."
The blacksmith looked like he was about to have a stroke.
"TOO WEAK?!"
Veneri sighed. A sapphire glow appeared in his hand. Soul Energy materialized a sapphire hammer. The hammer was beautiful. The grip alone displayed craftsmanship beyond anything most smiths had ever seen and he just materialized it. It wasn't even a special one. He swung it again. The impact was far stronger and the resulting shockwave blasted through the forge. Several smiths nearly lost their footing. Customers stopped what they were doing. Everyone slowly looked down.
The anvil was shattered into dozens of pieces. Fragments scattered across the floor.
Veneri stared at the remains and sighed again.
"The anvil is too brittle. Seriously, these are the tools a blacksmith shop uses?"
The blacksmith who owned the anvil turned red.
"My tools!"
Veneri shrugged.
"They were weak."
"My tools!"
"They broke."
"YOU BROKE THEM!"
"They would break sooner or later you know."
The man's face twitched violently.
"You—"
He threw a punch but a massive hand suddenly grabbed his wrist before the strike could land. The entire forge went silent again. The man looked like something straight out of an old Viking story he used to read on Earth. He was massive and muscular enough to make most warriors feel inadequate. His braided beard reached his chest. Scars covered his arms. Every blacksmith immediately gave him a slight bow.
"Master Agnar."
The owner of the destroyed anvil instantly froze but Agnar ignored him. Instead, his eyes were on Veneri. The giant blacksmith glanced at the sapphire hammer and the shattered anvil.
"Are you a Mystical Forger?"
Veneri looked at him calmly and nodded.
"I am. I'm amazed you noticed."
The forge was filled with gasps.
"A WHAT?!"
"No way!"
"A Mystical Forger?!"
"Those are real?!"
Even the receptionist covered her mouth.
The blacksmith whose tools had just been annihilated looked like he wanted to crawl into the furnace and hide. Agnar stared at Veneri for several seconds.
"Interesting. Very interesting."
And for the first time since entering the shop, Veneri smiled back.