The trio entered the guildsmith’s workshop, where Hadr directed Orion to lay his weapon on a massive table in the center of the room.

  If this stout guildsmith can unseal even a fraction of my weapon’s power…

  Orion crossed his arms as he observed the guildsmith work. The boy beside him seemed antsy, probably anxiously hoping to begin completing quests, but the skeleton cared not for his wants.

  “Boy,” Orion suddenly said, startling Ansel, who jumped in fear. The skeleton sighed in disappointment. “If you flinch at every movement and sound, how do you expect to fight?”

  “You have a scary voice!” Ansel protested.

  Orion sighed again, louder this time. “No matter. This guildsmith, Hadr, correct? Does he have… any considerable skill compared to the other guildsmith’s of this time?”

  “I’m not really sure… I’ve never been to any other towns with an adventurers guild.”

  “Oh, I got skill alright!” Hadr boasted from across the workshop, scampering back and forth between his disorganized workbenches and fiddling with a number of miscellaneous tools. He resembled a rather girthy rat, choosing between a moldy piece of cheese and a second, slightly smaller one. “You ain’t gonna find a better smith than me!”

  “How encouraging,” Orion muttered flatly. “Boy–”

  “Ansel. We agreed that you’d call me by my name,” The necromancer said defiantly.

  Orion rolled his nonexistent eyes. “Ansel, perhaps you should search for any weapons or armor that appeal to you. That dagger and tunic will not be enough to guard your frail form.”

  “Good idea, Ori… I mean, Galahad!” The boy happily scampered off to dig through the rows and rows of equipment lining the interior of Hadr’s workshop.

  Of course, I really just couldn’t stand another moment with that brat breathing down my neck.

  “Oh, this is it!” The guildsmith suddenly exclaimed, nearly sprinting towards the blade lying in the center of the workshop. “Eldrin gave this to me after a rather lucrative adventure of his. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion…” Hadr gave Orion’s weapon a beady-eyed stare. “A real Dragonsteel weapon is ‘bout as good as any.” He raised the item in his hand, a small, shining pearlescent stone. To the untrained eye, it would seem like nothing more than a pretty rock. “This is–”

  “A wrought pearl. I’ve seen a few of these in my time,” Orion interjected.

  Hadr paused for a moment, then nodded, seemingly surprised that the skeleton was able to recognize the item. “Good eye.” He brought the stone forward, and then it began to glow with an almost sinister purple light. Hadr grit his teeth, and Orion noticed beads of sweat dripping down his forehead as he continued to concentrate.

  But even as the guildmaster worked, Orion felt surprised. Is he able to activate the wrought pearl without any artificing gear? Only the strongest smiths in my time would’ve dared to attempt such a feat. Perhaps Hadr does have considerable skill… Another thought, although short and fleeting, popped into his mind. But a guildsmith from a small village on the outskirts of civilization… perhaps humanity has truly advanced since three hundred years ago. Orion thought back to the duel with Eldrin. Though the skeleton knew that with his full strength, such an opponent would’ve been trivial, the same concept applied. Why would the guildmaster of a small, remote adventurers guild possess such strength?

  “Hmph,” Orion grunted aloud, and suddenly, the purple light disappeared, plunging the guildsmith’s workshop into darkness.

  “Oi, you broke my concentration!” Hadr complained, slumping backwards as he dropped the now gray and lifeless wrought pearl onto the ground.

  The skeleton scoffed, walking forward. He grabbed his greatsword before replying. “You know well enough that you had reached your limit.”

  This time, it was Hadr’s turn to scoff. “Says you. What d’you know about smithing?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Did it work?” Ansel interjected, now wearing a large brown cloak around his neck, as well as a brand new dagger at his waist. “Hope you don’t mind if I keep these, Hadr,” He added sheepishly.

  “Yeah, cuz’ I don’t get a say in my own creations,” Hadr grumbled. The guildsmith turned, eyeing the weapon in Orion’s hands. “It worked all right, but whatever magic is sealing that thing is strong. You’d need a hundred wrought pearls to get anything else out of it, and I don’t have the proper gear in this hellhole to do much else.”

  Orion brandished his sword, noting that one of the nine runes engraved along its blade was now slightly illuminated, glowing with a slight golden hum. Impressive enough that he managed to do this much. Perhaps I underestimated the man.

  “Well, thanks for your time, Hadr! We'd best be going now, we’ve got quests to complete!” Ansel said cheerfully, before promptly turning around and heading straight for the door.

  “That little brat,” Hadr complained. “Oi, I'd better get some repayment from you, big guy. That wrought pearl was real valuable.”

  Orion laughed. Despite the stout and ugly man’s demeanor being quite off-putting, there was a certain charm to him. And, it seemed that they shared a hatred for the puny boy’s incompetence. “I’ll see to it that I return with something worthy of your time.”

  The skeleton casually strode behind Ansel, who was busy trying to wrangle his unruly undead standing awkwardly just outside the workshop. Kortak was kneeling, trying to comfort a crying child who had fallen and began wailing at the sight of a monster right inside their town. The mother was angrily berating Ansel, telling the boy that he ought to be more responsible with his summons, rather than just letting them terrorize the citizens wherever he went.

  “...I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare your kid! Look, he’s a nice orc, right, Kortak?”

  The orc champion nodded vigorously, baring his rotten and decaying teeth, which caused the child to resume his wailing with a renewed intensity.

  Orion shook his head. “Boy, let’s go.”

  “Ansel,” the necromancer grumbled in response. “Are we finally getting a quest?”

  “No,” Orion answered flatly.

  “What do you mean?!”

  “Come on,” with that, the massive skeleton grabbed both Kortak and Ansel by the ear, dragging the pair away from the town and into the surrounding forests.

  “Atleast someone is teaching that kid some manners!” The mother yelled as they walked away, hugging her own child tightly to her chest.

  We’ll see about that.

  “Where are we going?” Ansel complained, his tone reminding Orion just how young the boy truly was. Not that his size, strength, or maturity portrayed him as anything more.

  “Like I said before. You could do with some muscle.”

  Ansel had felt an abnormal amount of pain in the past few days. Fighting an orc for the first time, being tossed and thrown around by a massive, hulking skeleton warrior, and being effortlessly defeated by the guildmaster were events that he would’ve never anticipated, only just a week ago.

  Similarly, what he was doing now was also something he would never have anticipated.

  The damp, musty smell of leaves and decaying wood assaulted the boy’s nostrils, not to mention the countless animal feces littered throughout the forests behind Avon. Or perhaps it was his own scent after dripping sweat from every orifice of his body for the past three hours. Ansel’s body burned, muscles that he never even knew existed straining like a rope on its last strand. Despite it all, however, he felt his efforts were paying off. It had been two weeks since the pair had visited Hadr’s workshop, and since then, even Ansel’s mother had noticed a change in his physique, noting that he seemed ever so slightly more manly than before.

  “You think that will be good enough to survive the dungeons, boy? Stop daydreaming and run!” Orion barked, following along at what seemed like a casual stroll.

  Ansel, Kortak, and the two orc archers were all running through the forest, ducking and weaving through the foliage as they completed the training exercise. Orion had told the boy that in order to begin completing quests, he should atleast be able to have a modicum of physical ability. Ansel didn’t particularly disagree, but he felt that Orion’s methods were a bit… harsh, especially for the orcs, who, to Ansel’s knowledge, didn’t even benefit from exercise.

  “You call yourself the Orc Champion? I wouldn’t make you the champion of a home for the elderly!” Orion taunted, causing Kortak to frown.

  At last, the group reached their destination—the same clearing where Eldrin and Anita had conducted their proficiency test—prompting Ansel to drop to the ground in exhaustion. Kortak and the pair of undead archers dropped as well, although Ansel had a sneaking suspicion that they were simply acting in solidarity with their master.

  “Get up, you sorry lot!” Orion roared, and Ansel forced himself to his feet.

  “Aren’t I the master around here?” The boy muttered.

  Orion ignored the complaint. “Congratulations. You now know what true pain feels like.”

  “What are you–”

  A heavy thud rang out, causing Ansel to yelp in pain. “What was that for?” He complained, rubbing the back of his head where Orion had just slapped him. “Doesn’t my magic or whatever stop you from hurting me?”

  Orion let out a belly laugh, seemingly happier than Ansel had ever seen him before. Perhaps because he enjoyed seeing the boy suffer. No, that’s definitely why.

  “Just because,” the skeleton shrugged. Then, his voice dropped, and his eyes began to glow with a fiery intensity. “Now, isn’t it about time you make good on your promise and show me what a real hero looks like?”

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