Old Kent quickly noticed the fleeting hesitation in Raine’s eyes.
He wiped his calloused fingers on his leather apron and said with certainty, "Don’t worry, kid. The sign of the Flint Blacksmith’s Shop has stood in Mottled Town for decades. It has never been ruined, and it never will be.
"Every once in a while, I invite Master Mary from town to come over and carefully inspect everything using her Identification Skill," he continued after a slight pause, his gray-blue eyes revealing an unquestionable sincerity. "The appraisal for this Short Sword was done just a week ago. It’s completely clean, absolutely free of any Curse."
Hearing this, and considering Kent’s rock-solid reputation in town, the last trace of doubt in Raine’s mind completely vanished.
"Flint" was the signature of this Grim Old Blacksmith, as well as the name of the Clan he once belonged to. He would never allow this name to be disgraced.
"This is the one, Master."
Raine gripped the hilt of his new Short Sword, feeling its heavy, reassuring weight. With a loud SMACK, he slapped his only Golden King onto the oak workbench.
The transaction went smoothly. Knowing he wasn’t getting a bad deal, Raine didn’t haggle. Instead, as Old Kent handed him thirty Silver Lions in change, he made another request.
"Master, weapons always suffer wear and tear. In the future, if this Short Sword needs repair and maintenance, could I get a discount here?"
Old Kent paused at the words. His gray-blue eyes lingered on Raine’s face for a moment, seemingly surprised by the young man’s pragmatism, which went far beyond his years.
He pondered for about two or three breaths before giving a crisp nod. "Minor repairs like sharpening the blade, replacing the handle wrap, or straightening the blade are fine, but replacing the pommel or filling in chips will cost extra."
"That is more than enough. Thank you, Master."
Satisfied, Raine pocketed the Silver Lions he received in change. This arrangement was clearly more valuable than a simple price reduction.
Taking advantage of the harmonious atmosphere, he naturally steered the topic toward the key figure Kent had just mentioned. "Master, that Caster Master you just mentioned who can perform the Identification Skill—where does she live in town?"
"Master Mary?" Old Kent wiped his sweat with the old towel hanging around his neck and replied, "She lives in the Alchemy Workshop at the east end of town. She is the previous owner there and Sarah’s biological grandmother.
"Master Mary is a proper Mage Professional, a powerful figure capable of skillfully Casting a Second Ring Spell. She is highly respected in town. It’s also thanks to her presence that Sarah can be so, well, full of an explorative spirit."
Saying this, he let out a helpless smile, evidently no stranger to Sarah’s "explosive" experimental abilities, which were famous throughout the town.
"No wonder Sarah can sustain an Alchemy Workshop," Raine nodded thoughtfully. A strong family background and profound heritage explained everything.
"Getting items appraised by Master Mary is very reasonably priced, usually just a few Silver Lions. She is the default appraisal Expert for the Town Mayor’s Mansion. When Sir Skeller was around, many spoils of unknown origin were brought to her for inspection." Old Kent shifted the subject with a shake of his head. "However, you’ve come at a bad time. Master Mary is not in town these few days.
"Over in Lotte City, the New Noble Lord’s newly established Magic Academy is short on hands. They sent people to invite her time and time again, practically forcing her to go over and instruct those Apprentice brats." He pointed toward the southwest. "I also had to take advantage of the brief window when she last came back to visit Sarah, rushing over overnight with a few collected weapons for her to appraise."
"Lotte City..." Raine repeated the name in a low voice.
It was the capital of the New Noble Lord who ruled this region, the closest large city to Mottled Town, and currently one of the frontline fortresses in a tense standoff against the Traditional Nobility’s army.
The Shadow of war, like circling vultures that refused to leave, already firmly shrouded the towers and domes of that city.
Old Kent spread his hands helplessly, his deep facial wrinkles seemingly filled with anxiety over the current situation.
"Especially in the past few months, when occasional frictions began between the two sides, the Lord pressed even harder, and Master Mary practically became a permanent resident in Lotte City. Otherwise, how could that girl Sarah blast so many holes in the workshop’s roof? Once Master Mary left, that girl completely let loose."
While speaking, Old Kent shook his head again with a helpless laugh.
"I understand. Thank you for telling me, Master."
After bidding farewell to Old Kent, Raine stepped back into the bustling and warm sunlight of Mottled Town. The streets were still filled with people coming and going, but unlike when he arrived, the new Short Sword equipped at his waist made him feel much more secure. A sense of satisfaction from his increased strength welled up within him.
He subconsciously raised his hand and gently pressed his knuckles against the inside of his Cotton Armor. The Mottled Ring still rested quietly against his chest, completely devoid of any unusual movement. Meanwhile, his new companion at his waist produced a soft, rhythmic RUSTLE as the blade rubbed slightly against the leather scabbard with his steps, carrying a reassuring cadence.
As for the old sword, Raine didn’t sell it, but planned to use it as a backup weapon. During the Sloppy Ranger’s instruction, he had also mentioned the technique of dual-wielding short swords in passing, even claiming that he was a dual-weapon master himself.
Raine thought, "Perhaps when I have time, I can also practice dual-weapon combat?"
Regardless, being able to buy a high-quality Short Sword at an affordable price was undoubtedly an exciting thing! Amidst his joy, however, questions also surfaced in his mind.
He wondered, "Why did the Mottled Ring specifically react to this Short Sword? And after the Short Sword was acquired, it went completely silent again, as if its mission was accomplished?
"Could it be that this ring has the ability to identify treasures? Can it find the most suitable equipment for me?
"Or is there some deeper connection between the ring and the Short Sword?"
The mysteries were like tangled silk threads; for the time being, he couldn’t find a clear clue. Raine simply tossed the thoughts to the back of his mind and strode toward the Return Inn. After spending the entire morning shopping, he had successfully procured his new Leather Armor and new Short Sword. It was finally time to head back and savor his long-awaited lunch.
Just as Raine turned the corner onto a sparsely populated street, another kind of "feast" was quietly brewing inside an old house in the building opposite.
Time inside the room seemed to have frozen. A stale scent of dust and rotting wood permeated the air. A ray of sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the broken window shutters, barely outlining the pitch-black room, while floating dust silently tumbled within the beam of light.
In this dimness, ten figures draped in heavy black robes stood quietly. These figures were exceptionally tall and burly, nearly touching the low ceiling. Their broad shoulders and robust frames stretched the black robes so tight they seemed ready to tear, and every one of them exuded a terrifyingly formidable aura. In the darkness, only the bottomless Shadow beneath their hoods could be seen, along with the occasional massive foot—covered in coarse brown fur and sharp claws—poking out from beneath the hems of their robes.
The oppressive silence was soon broken. A muffled, chest-resonating grumble emerged from beneath one of the black robes.
"Hungry, hungry, hungry... One of the bugs last night was stinky. Didn’t eat enough," the urgent voice echoed in the dusty air.
The tallest figure standing in the center shifted. Its hood turned slightly toward the speaker, and a low, hoarse voice drifted out from the Shadow. "Endure it. Tonight, you all will set fires everywhere to attract the bugs’ attention."
A massive brown claw reached out from beneath the black robe and dragged across the dust-covered table, leaving behind three distinct trenches.
"The rest of you, come with me," the hoarse voice continued, boiling with killing intent. "We are going to that secluded inn to catch bugs. Plump, juicy bugs."
A drifting cloud in the sky moved away, allowing brilliant sunlight to shoot in like a spotlight, perfectly illuminating the leader’s profile. Beneath the slightly raised hood was a massive beast’s head with a protruding snout, looking somewhat like a hyena and somewhat like a bear. Its small eyes, flashing with a faint green light, were filled with hostility and cruelty.