"Ah, you brat, listen first. He's not here for a magic sword. Seems like it's something else."
"?"
The red-haired youth frowned, glanced once more at the messy metal surface he had been hammering, and clicked his tongue.
When Fron first met the heir of the Crozzo family, the latter looked as if he was pondering a difficult problem, wearing a sulky expression.
"Though it's not really the best time — how about grabbing a drink?"
"Sure."
The conversation between men was just that simple.
------------------------------------
In the sixth district located in the southwest of the city, there was a stylish café built within a maze of narrow streets, called "Wishe".
This was a shop run by elves, and the owner, wearing glasses, was dressed like a gentleman.
The newly arrived Fron had learned about this delightful little shop through someone else's recommendation. Indeed, it was a shop opened by a fellow villager of Lefiya.
They were both elves from the Wishe Forest.
"Nice place, and the coffee's great too. Since we're all men here, let's not beat around the bush."
Welf had the straightforwardness and competence of a blacksmith, completely lacking the smoothness of merchants and nobles. Fron quite liked this direct personality.
Stirring his coffee with a spoon, he spoke with a smile:
"I saw your request for a party on the bulletin board. You want to level up to acquire the 'Smithing' development ability, right?"
Indeed, when he previously went to the guild headquarters to register, Fron had noticed an adventurer commission posted in a corner.
At the time, he only paid slight attention, not expecting that he would improve so quickly.
With his current mastery of magic techniques and status, teaming up with this blacksmith would be more than enough to explore the lower levels.
"Yes, I posted that request. So, you're accepting it?"
Hearing that someone was here to join his party, Welf was quite surprised. Due to certain reasons, he was excluded from his Familia.
Yet to level up, he needed precious high-level experience points, which meant delving deep into the dungeon.
Alone, places like the 10th, 11th, and 12th floors were too dangerous for him; a single mistake could cost him his life, which would defeat the purpose.
In the end, having no other choice, he posted a commission seeking outsiders to team up.
"Ah, let me introduce myself. I'm Fron Argon. You can call me Fron."
"Well—let's put it this way. Like you, I'm also Level 1, but I'm confident that we can easily handle the floors up to the 12th together."
"?"
Welf looked at his rare golden eyes with some doubt, as if saying: Are you kidding me?
Thinking from the other perspective, if it were him, he might react the same way. It was indeed difficult to trust a stranger you just met.
"How about this: let's try exploring together first, and if you find me satisfactory, we can then sign a contract."
Judging by his appearance, this blonde young man didn't seem like a swindler, and since he offered it like this—there was nothing to lose.
So Welf decided to give it a try.
"Alright then, when?"
"Tomorrow. I need some time to prepare. Let's meet at 9 a.m. at the fountain in Central Plaza."
"By the way, I don't want any gold for the commission reward."
"What do you want? Don't be fooled by my appearance, I'm quite confident in my craftsmanship."
Looking at the proud young man, Fron curved his lips into a smile, his eyes forming crescent moons.
"Just teach me the basic knowledge and operations of blacksmithing."
"...Nani???"
Welf was dumbfounded, completely at a loss.
What kind of request was this???
In the industrial district, there were tons of apprentices everywhere. You could find someone to teach you anywhere! Why go through all this trouble to find him?
"Ah, I know who you are, Welf—Welf Crozzo. And you can forge magic swords."
"I hope you can craft a magic sword in front of me, even if it's just a small dagger."
This time Welf squinted his eyes.
"What you want—is the technique for forging magic swords?"
Fron nodded generously:
"Yes. I can understand your belief as a blacksmith not to forge magic swords for others. After all, you may not want to forge a magical sword."
"But I don't need a magic sword; I just want to observe your technique. Is that alright?"
Such a strange request was a first for Welf. Could it be that he wanted to become a blacksmith too?
Thinking about it, the craftsmanship involved in making magic swords wasn't exactly a secret among advanced blacksmiths; what mattered was the quality.
"That's fine, but may I ask which Familia you belong to?"
"Loki Familia."
"—Hey."
"Ah, my situation is a bit special."
Welf was completely stunned, his mind in chaos.
Someone from Loki Familia actually came to him to learn forging techniques—Then he shook his head, unable to understand.
"See you tomorrow then."
After speaking, Fron naturally pushed open the door and soon disappeared from sight.
"Ah—hey, you're making me pay??? Damn it!"
Can't someone have coffee without money?
Having freeloaded a morning tea, Fron happily whistled as he returned to his base.
Just as he walked through the door, the sound of intense combat reached him first.
"Fron, you went out early!"
In the courtyard, the Amazoness sisters were going crazy for some reason. Their fierce hand-to-hand combat made Fron nervous.
Even the younger sister had the leisure to greet him, only to immediately take a solid punch from her older sister straight to the face—the force—
"What are you two doing?"
While speaking, Fron's eyes were locked onto their battle.
It wasn't often that high-level adventurers displayed their battle-hardened techniques in front of him. Fron was like a child obsessed with games, greedily absorbing their experience.
In his golden eyes, a pale blue halo appeared—'The Reader' had activated.
"Telskyura Martial Arts."
A martial art from a distant country, the warrior nation known as the "Country of Blood and Fighting."
That country was ruled by the goddess Kali.
In that land, every child was granted a blessing from birth and began to fight.
Yes, fights between people, bloody battles, merciless deathmatches.
Like raising poisonous insects, the last one standing would gain enough experience to ascend and become the strongest.
That was the state of that country—utter chaos, bloodshed, and darkness.
Tione and Tiona, these sisters, had escaped from that country.
For them, such slaughter was probably everyday life. Fron thought as he secretly learned.
"Boom—"
The younger sister was sent flying by a punch, and the two stopped.
Tiona spat out some blood and scolded her sister viciously:
"Tione, I was greeting Fron, and you sneak-attacked me! Despicable."
"What are you talking about, my foolish little sister? Killing is always about any means necessary. Blame yourself for being careless!"
"Hehehe, the captain said ladies should be reserved. Look at yourself now!"
"?"
Tione's eyes turned completely black, black miasma rising from her body, the oppressive force almost gave Fron a heart attack.
"Tiona, Tione. Stop it. You're scaring Fron."
Luckily, Finn stuck his head out from the window, advising helplessly.
"Captain~~~~~"
"..."
Tiona shrugged and sighed to the dumbfounded Fron:
"My sister is just too easy to trick."
Fron dared not respond. What if they held it against him later? He was still too weak.
"By the way, where did you go? I saw you and Ais in the courtyard this morning."
"Ah, I went out to find a blacksmith and formed a party for the dungeon."
Tiona leaned forward with her hands behind her back, tilting her head curiously:
"Wow, you actually went to team up with someone from another Familia. We have so many people in our Familia—"
Fron leaned back under pressure, explaining with a bitter smile:
"I didn't want to trouble everyone to accompany me into the dungeon. It's just the upper levels after all; I'd only be a bother. Conveniently, I accepted an adventurer commission, and I'm also a bit short on funds—"