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  “You did what?!”

  “I offered to bring them with us.”

  “Lock, I don’t mean to offend you, I really don’t.” Kyrian’s tone was equal parts chastising and disbelief. “Are you insane?”

  “Sssslaveborn hassss never been ssssane.” Skaris said dryly.

  I did my best to keep the growing frown off my face. Kyrian hadn’t been this upset since… since I met him actually. The Mage had always been behind me every step of the way. The fact that he was actually scolding me spoke volumes about the weight of my decision, and the potential dangers of the path I’d chosen.

  “What’s done is done.” I said instead of sticking my tongue out at him. See? I chose to be mature instead of acting like the child he was treating me as. “Help me figure out a way to make it happen.”

  Currently, Skaris, Kyrian, Aurora and I were walking through the Dwarf town. We were still greeted with glares but Doror had gone ahead of us, talking to the various workshops that had the things that I needed for the hunt. Aurora stopped, rummaging in her pack and handing over some sweets to the local dwarf kids with a smile.

  Her face dropped as they ran away from her.

  “Their ssscarsss run deep.” Skaris commented, turning to me. “Even if you figure out a way, they might not dessscide to come.”

  “Not me, we.” I said, gesturing at all of us.

  “I like it’s we after you made the decision.” Kyrian said dryly. “Lock, there must be another way.”

  “..He hasss that look in hisssss eyessss again. He won’t change his mind.” Skaris snoted.

  “What look?” I asked but they ignored me.

  Kyrian scowled. “Lock, what you’re suggesting is beyond madness. I’ve sworn to help you to the best of my ability, but you want to bring this entire town of Dwarves with us on our voyage. We’ll be killed, and the Dwarves will either be killed along with us by the Church, or be sold as Slaves.” He looked at the backs of the children running ahead of us, turning around when they were just far enough to see what we were doing.

  “...I know what you’re feeling, Lock.” Kyrian tried again, softer this time. “But offering to get them out of the Island isn’t a way to help them. It’s a death sentence. For all of us.”

  “They’ll be dead once we kill this monster below us anyways.” I turned to Kyrian. “We have to help them, Kyrian. We can’t just leave them here. Besides…” I trailed off. “It’s our duty. As humans.”

  Kyrian looked away.

  He knew what I wanted to say.

  The Dwarves were here because of Humans.

  Us.

  It should have nothing to do with me.

  But it was like living as Lock Slaveborn so long had turned my brain into the human-race from MSS, overwriting my identity as a earth-human. I felt guilty about the Dwarf’s lives here. The way they glanced at us, bitterness evident in every inch of their being. The way these people lived underground in the dark, without ever feeling the sun on their skin ever again.

  All because of the Empire’s greed.

  I had to do something.

  It wasn’t just me who felt this way either.

  I saw it in the way that Aurora kept trying to hand out sweets to the kids. I saw it in the way that Kyrian refused to meet anyone’s eyes, his eyes glued forward but wincing every time we saw a dwarf girl no older than eight. I sensed their shame and how they dealt with it as Turinans, seeing the result of their Empire’s actions from years ago.

  Even if it weren’t their own hands that had done the deed, their hearts broke as if it had. A sign of compassion. A sign that they were good people.

  Borealis was right. I do have an eye for people. Just not in the way that he meant.

  “I know that.” Kyrian said finally, breaking me out of my thoughts. “But…” He breathed in and out, shoulders losing some of that tension. “I still needed to warn you about this.”

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  I put a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

  “Mr. Lock,” Aurora interjected, “All that is moot point, unless we can kill the monster. What is this plan? Does it have something to do with us visiting the Smithies?”

  Instead of answering, I just gave her a sharp nod. We were close to the last Smithy and it would be quicker to show her.

  We’d visited around half a dozen other Workshops, none of them had what we needed.

  Luckily, I spotted what we needed as soon as we entered the shop.

  “That,” I said, pointing. “That’s what we need.”

  The dwarven smith sauntered over, grabbing his belt and pulling it higher up on his waist. As he came over, the scent of tabacco arrived first, and I suspected that he was chewing the leaves. When he spoke, the scent grew stronger.

  “It’s you.” He grunted.

  I gave tilted my head in acknowledgement, recognizing the smith in turn. He was the same dwarf who led us to Doror’s workshop from the door. “Smith Futir.”

  “Call me Futir.” True to dwarven fashion, he cut the pleasantries short and got straight to the point. “What you here for, Boy?”

  Why did these Dwarves always call me Boy or Lad?

  Then again, my party was on the young side. None of us were past the age of 25. In a Dwarf’s eyes –a race that lived up to 500 years if lucky– we were probably no more than babies.

  “How much for thos?” I pointed at the wall.

  My companions were already leaning over to get a better look. It was Aurora who figured it out first.

  “These metals, they’d been shaped to fit various different weapons.” She said.

  And then Kyrian held out a hand, closing his eyes and concentrating. “...These aren’t just metals either. There’s mana in them.” He froze suddenly, opening his eyes and widening them. “Elemental Mana?”

  I nodded.

  The things I had been looking for were something that I’d only seen in Dwarven Cities in the game. Never as monster drops. It was natural that Aurora and Kyrian, who seemed like they didn’t have much experience with dwarven smiths, didn't know about these things.

  They were tiny slivers of metal, thin and shiny. Each of them looked like a case made of interconnected webs of metal, kind of like a poorly crocheted sheath for different weapons. One was shaped like the tip of a dagger, and another like the tip of a spear. Skaris reached out for the one that looked like the tip of a spear and Futir walked over with surprising speed, slapping the Beastman’s hand away.

  Skaris shot him a dirty look, but didn’t voice it otherwise. Out of all my party members, Skaris was the closest thing to the classic warrior-class; he knew not to piss off a Dwarven Smith in a Smithy full of weapons that could potentially be ours.

  Without another word, Futir picked up one of the metallic pieces off the wall. With practiced hands and drew a dagger from his waist, sliding the metallic cover over the dagger. Now the dagger’s blade was in the web-like metal casing.

  “You know what these are, Human?” Futir asked me, eyeing my hands.

  “A modular blade. It’s designed to fit over the original blade, thin enough to be nearly weightless but sturdy enough to stay on even in battle. Custom-fitted to weapons, it’s designed like a web to leave parts of the original blade’s edge while the covered parts are replaced by the modular blade’s edge.” I answered without missing a beat.

  It was Skaris who understood first. “Enchant the blade, without acsssstually enchanting the blade. Interesssssting.”

  Basically, you were ‘modding’ your weapon. An option available only to Dwarves who had no Witch Doctor or Mage class. But with this, they could still imbue their weapons with various properties while still retaining the Weapon’s original stats. Modding the weapon was one of the last steps of finishing your build, adding on accessory effects to your equipment. Mostly because Dwarven Smiths who could provide such a service were rare, and you could only find them near the late game. It took time to build up a relationship too.

  But this isn’t a game.

  It’s real life.

  Thanks to the [Crow Totem], I was able to hunt in the cave solo. Thanks to that, I was able to find this place. Through the Sword Saint’s swordsmanship, I was able to gain entry in this city.

  All those things had led to this outcome: even without Doror the Master Smith, we could purchase services of Smiths who were at a higher-level of expertise than we should be allowed at our current level.

  …Which was only a clue to the difficulty of this quest.

  “Aye, they’re called [Weapon Mods].” Futir gave me a second look, passing the dagger over to me for me to take a look. “...How does a lad like you know about them?”

  Skaris coughed into his hand, his seven-feet tall body nearly bending in half as the coughs wracked his huge frame. Kyrian glared at Skaris who couldn’t keep a straight face to save his freaking life, much less keep my secret.

  “Saved a dwarf’s life once. His name was Krag, a Priest in the Temple of the Smith. As thanks, he taught me a couple of things.” The lie came easy to me, mixing bits of truth with falsehood. But it wasn’t for Futir’s benefit.

  It was for Aurora.

  It’s not that I don’t trust Aurora. I trust her with my life.

  It’s just…

  I think I want my comrades to know me as Lock Slaveborn, former Slave and current Adventurer. Not Lock ‘Han’ Slaveborn, the Player. That ship might have sailed for Skaris and Kyrian, but there was still a selfish desire to keep my relationship with everyone the way it was. I just…

  I just didn’t want to change anything between us.

  I thought of Clover.

  …Is this what they call PTSD?

  In the present, I was turning the blade over in my hand. “I need [Weapon Mods] for a sword, a spear and a lance. Some arrowheads too, if you have time.” I eyed Futir. “I need it in a couple of hours, is that possible?”

  “Depends…” He rubbed his chin. “The arrowheads are not possible. What metal for the mods are you looking for, Boy?”

  “Water for the Sword and Lance.” I replied. “Fire for the Spear. Then you can do the rest?”

  Futir scoffed. “It’s not whether I can do it or not, it’s whether I want to. I may not be a Master Smith, but I have my pride too. I’m a Stonehammer, and I’d rather melt all these down then give them to undeserving hands.”

  “Because we’re human?” Kyrian said sadly.

  Futir’s tone turned cold at Kyrian’s question. “You watch your words, Mage-Boy. I’m a Smith before I’m a Dwarf. Aye, I have no love of your kind. But I love my work, and my work is to provide worthy arms to adventurers.” He bared his teeth. “So don’t you dare disrespect me again, Mage.”

  Kyrian opened his mouth then closed it. “I apologize.”

  Damn, he was really getting no love here. But he didn’t know the culture of the dwarves and how hot-headed they could be. He was still learning how to adjust.

  Futir scoffed. “Aye, a human and a mage. Not yer fault, you simply don’t know.” He sideeyed me. “The mods are for you three?”

  “Yes.” I answered quickly.

  “Then show me yer weapons.”

  We showed him our weapons, and he took them in his hands, walking over to a worktable and spreading them out.

  “...This is a good sword.”

  “Temporary.” I answered.

  He raised his eyebrows. “It’s a good sword.” He repeated.

  I felt the wolfish grin stretch over my face. “I’m better.”

  He let out another guffaw. Then taking Skaris’ spear, he measured the edge, looking at it lengthwise. “Yer spear isn’t well taken care of. It’s bent.”

  Skaris shrugged. “It issss not broken. It worksssss.”

  Futir ignored Skaris, pushing him aside and moving over to Aurora’s lance. “Move, you buffoon!”

  He eyed her shield then the lance. “You took good care of your Lance, Lass.”

  Aurora, who almost never smiled, smiled a little. “An adventurer who doesn’t care of their arms is undeserving of them.”

  Skaris gave her a death glare but Aurora ignored him.

  He looked over our armor as well, leaving a few comments.

  In the end, he took all our armors for basic repairs plus Skaris’ spear.

  “Come back in a few hours, and I’ll have them ready.”

  “How much?” I asked, reaching for my coin pouch.

  And Futir’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.

  He was looking down at something on his table, pretending to concentrate but I felt the weight of his undivided attention on me.

  “...Word is, that you’ve sworn to kill the beast down below. T’is true?”

  “Yes.”

  Then he nodded, taking his hand off of my wrist. He walked away from me, reaching for his tools.

  “Then it’s free of charge, Human.”

  I hesitated, caught between trying to insist or stop. Finally, I settled on a bow. “Then I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  I walked out with my party wondering, what could have pushed Futir into doing such a thing.

  I think the people in this city have stories that I have not heard yet.

  Humans. Monsters. Orcs. Pirates.

  The world hasn’t been kind to them.

  And yet, Futir was showing me kindness.

  …If I were in their shoes, could I do the same?

  “Come on,” I said, pushign the thought aside. There would be time to ponder later. “Let’s find Stole, and we can see if Doror has a map of the monster’s lair.”