Chapter 21: Unexpected Encounters and Custom Orders

Chapter 21

Hay tucked the contract securely into his chest pocket and exited the Cranche Mercenary Guild building. Their departure was scheduled for five days later. While the timeline felt a bit tight, he had sought them out late, so there was little room to complain.

As he made his way back to the inn, a tap on his back stopped him. Turning around, he saw the Fortune-teller from earlier, her wide eyes twinkling as she grinned.

“What is it?”

“Mr. Unemployed, you’ve signed a contract with Cranche, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Then it looks like we’ll be teammates for a while!”

“So it seems.”

“To celebrate becoming teammates, how about you treat me to a meal?”

“I’d rather not.”

‘Why would I?’

“Then I’ll treat you!”

“That sounds good.”

Hay’s eyes sparkled. He disliked company dinners, but a free meal was always welcome.

“Shall we go now, then?”

“Ah, I already have a lunch engagement. How about dinner instead?”

“Perfect! I know a restaurant I always go to; shall we head there?”

“Where is it?”

“It’s called ‘Estuman’.”

It was a restaurant Hay had visited a few times when ‘Angel’ was too crowded. ‘That’ll work,’ he thought, nodding readily.

“Alright. I’ll meet you around sunset.”

“See you then!”

The Fortune-teller smiled brightly, waved, and then hurried back towards the Cranche Mercenary Guild building. Hay waved back, then tilted his head in confusion. ‘Why would she offer to treat me to a meal after knowing me for such a short time?’

****

“Master, isn’t that a date invitation?”

“Uncle, are you going on a date?!”

“Is that Fortune-teller pretty?”

Hay sighed at the barrage of questions from Renki, Meylin, and Mr. Torres. All he had said was, ‘I’m having dinner with the Fortune-teller I met at the mercenary guild,’ yet this was their reaction.

“There’s no way it’s a date. How long have I known her for it to be a date?”

“No, but if it’s not a date, why would a woman ask you to eat with her?”

Mr. Torres asked, his face a picture of bewilderment.

“Perhaps she wants to get to know me better, since we’ll be working together.”

“Or maybe that Fortune-teller fell in love with you at first sight, Uncle!”

‘It didn’t feel like that,’ Hay thought, tilting his head and furrowing his brow at Meylin’s words.

“Are you saying it’s possible for someone not to fall for you, Uncle?”

‘What kind of nonsense is that?’

“Exactly. You never know, right?”

Renki’s green eyes sparkled. Hay slowly glanced between the three of them. It seemed they simply wanted to push that narrative. Rick, meanwhile, was silently eating his stew. A wood chip, perhaps from chopping firewood, clung to his hair. Hay reached over, plucked it off, and then addressed the group.

“It’s not like that.”

“How would you know a woman’s heart, Uncle?”

“Even if I didn’t know, I’d notice if it felt that way. I’m not that oblivious.”

“What’s ‘oblivious’?”

“A clueless idiot. Ah, Renki. You should start packing your bags tomorrow. If there’s anything you need, I’ll make a list for you to buy tomorrow.”

Hay deftly changed the subject. Renki’s mouth stretched into a wide smile.

“Yes, Master.”

Before long, Hay’s bowl was empty. He rose from the table first, followed by Renki and Rick, who began clearing the dishes.

“When did you say you were leaving?”

Mr. Torres asked.

“In five days.”

****

Hay remained in his room until it was time for dinner. He even dozed off briefly, overcome by a post-meal drowsiness. The rest of his time was spent compiling a list of errands for Renki. However, with another stop to make before dinner, he ultimately had to abandon the unfinished list and rise from his seat.

Descending to the first floor, he heard the sounds of children laughing, chatting, and playing in the backyard.

“Is Renki out back?”

He asked Mr. Torres, who was seated at the counter.

“The three of them are doing laundry.”

Hay headed to the backyard.

Just as Mr. Torres had said, the children were sitting by the well, drawing water and washing clothes. They were playfully flicking water from their hands at each other. Meylin was the instigator, Rick was thoroughly disgusted, and Renki was the one being targeted by the mischief. Seeing them like this, the three children appeared quite close.

‘They are close, but…’

Hay’s gaze fell upon the Servant’s Mark etched into Renki’s nape, peeking out from beneath his short hair. Meylin doted on Renki as one might a pet, while Rick unconsciously treated him with an air of authority. This was likely due to the ‘Beast’ rune embedded within the mark. The thought left a bitter taste in Hay’s mouth. ‘What would the children’s relationship be like if that mark weren’t there?’

“Renki!”

Hay startled himself with the sudden call. His voice had been louder than intended, bursting out as if he were angry. Renki, startled in turn, scrambled to his feet and rushed over, much like an eager puppy.

“Yes, Master.”

“Let’s go.”

“Huh? Oh, are we going to dinner already?”

At that moment, Meylin ran over, wiping her hands on her apron, and linked her arm through Renki’s.

“Hey! That’s not right, Uncle! How can you take Renki on a date? You’ll get dumped, Uncle!”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s not a date anyway.”

While it was unlikely, even if Meylin was right and the Fortune-teller had gotten the wrong idea when he had no such intentions, it was not his concern.

“Or do you not want to go either?”

Hay asked Renki. Renki blinked rapidly, then shook his head vigorously.

“No, not at all.”

At Renki’s reply, Hay let out a silent sigh of relief. Simultaneously, he felt his expression soften, realizing only then that he had been annoyed. Feigning ignorance, Hay turned his back and re-entered the inn.

“We’ll be back, Meylin.”

“What? You’re really taking him? How thoughtless!”

Meylin grumbled, but Hay ignored her. He bid farewell to Mr. Torres, who was at the counter chatting with another guest, and then left the inn.

“Where’s the restaurant? Did you agree to meet at ‘Angel’?”

“No. At ‘Estuman’.”

“Oh? Then we should go that way.”

Renki blinked his innocent eyes and pointed down a different path with his index finger. Indeed, to get to ‘Estuman’ restaurant, they needed to go that way.

“I’m meeting the Fortune-teller at sunset. We’re going to stop somewhere else first.”

“Where are we going?”

“The blacksmith.”

“The blacksmith?”

“Just follow me.”

Renki was likely quite curious why Hay, who wasn’t a swordsman, would need to visit a blacksmith. But Hay found it too troublesome to explain, knowing Renki would find out once they arrived.

The blacksmith’s forge was located on the outskirts of the city, in a sparsely populated area. Upon their arrival, they saw several burly men, presumably mercenaries, examining swords and axes while conversing with a blacksmith. As they drew closer to the forge with its roaring hearth, the loud clang of hammers striking iron and the hiss of quenching steel grew more distinct. Even from a distance, the intense heat was palpable. Given it was a blacksmith’s, the energies of fire and earth felt exceptionally strong here. ‘If I holed up here for a few weeks, I might even befriend a fire spirit,’ Hay mused, clicking his tongue in mild regret as he turned away.

Hay headed towards the building directly opposite the forge, which served as both a showroom and a shop. However, he didn’t hear footsteps following him. Turning back, he saw Renki peeking furtively at the blacksmith’s, standing on tiptoes and even craning his neck. The sight brought a smile to Hay’s face.

“Renki, do you want to stay and watch from here? I’ll just go inside and pick up the items.”

“Yes!”

“Don’t cause any trouble.”

“Don’t worry, Master! I’ll be good!”

Renki replied with a wide grin. Hay left Renki behind and entered the shop.

Inside the building, the air was thick with the scent of iron and oil. Various weapons hung on the walls. Though Nudan was not a major city, the blacksmiths in this forge were renowned for their exceptional skill, supplying goods to weapon shops in other cities. Several customers, seemingly there to either purchase or commission items, were admiring the swords displayed on the walls. Hay, having no interest in the weaponry, walked directly to the counter.

“Retina.”

Knock, knock. As he tapped on the counter, the woman organizing the ledger looked up. Like all the staff here, she was a blacksmith. Retina, her skin tanned dark from the forge’s flames, smiled broadly at Hay—a professional, practiced smile.

“Welcome, Mr. Styles! Have you come to pick up your items?”

“Are they all finished?”

“Of course! Just a moment, they’re in the back. I’ll go get them.”

Retina closed the ledger, opened the door directly behind her, and stepped inside.

A moment later, Retina returned, carrying three boxes.

“Would you like to check the items?”

Hay walked back to the counter. Retina, still beaming, opened the lid of each box. The two similarly sized boxes each contained a dagger. One was a dagger a deceased mercenary had found on the road while traveling from Megiton to Nudan; its worn leather hilt had been replaced, and the blade meticulously repaired, making it look brand new. The other was a dagger Hay had used for a long time.

“You added leather to this one too? I didn’t ask for that.”

Hay picked up the dagger. Its hilt, which had previously been made only of metal, now had leather wrapped around it, just like the other dagger. The leather, interwoven with different colors, appeared designed to prevent the blade from slipping from his hand.

“You mentioned your hand often slipped, causing you to drop it, didn’t you? I thought it would be better to do this than to have it easily damaged again after all the repairs. Did I perhaps overstep?”

“No, not at all. It certainly feels much better in my grip this way.”

The slippery hilt had always annoyed him when he used it, so this was a welcome improvement. Hay ran his thumb over the ivory embellishment on the thickest part of the cola-bottle-shaped hilt. The embossed characters, slightly worn from long use, were now clear and distinct once more.

“You touched this up too?”

“Yes. I also carefully engraved the markings on the spine of the blade, matching the original script exactly. What do you think?”

Confidence resonated in Retina’s voice. And indeed, her words rang true. Though the hilt had changed, the rest of the blade was identical to when he first acquired it. No, it felt even better.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.”

“It was nothing.”

“Would you like to see the last item?”

Retina opened the lid of the smallest box. Inside lay a single item, which Hay had commissioned when he brought the daggers in for repair.

****

The repair cost for the two daggers and the price of the custom-ordered item totaled 2 gold and 50 silver. Since he had paid a 50-silver deposit when he first brought in the items, this meant an additional expenditure of 2 gold. Hay fastened one dagger to his waist and carried the other two, still in their boxes, tied together with twine. Renki, who had been watching in front of the forge, was nowhere to be seen. Standing where Renki had been, Hay glanced around, then turned his attention towards the blacksmith’s interior as he heard voices.

“Why do you heat it up so much, only to cool it in water?”

It was Renki’s voice. Over the din of the hammering, Renki was practically shouting his question.

“What was that, kiddo?!”

The blacksmith, unable to hear him clearly, raised his voice to ask again.

“Renki!”

Hay called out, raising his voice. Renki, about to repeat his question to the blacksmith, flinched and turned to face Hay. He scrambled over, but then paused, turned back to bow politely to the blacksmith, and finally rushed to Hay’s side.

“Master! Are you all finished?”