Chapter 39 : This isn’t pottery!

Lena waited. Pricking up her ears, she could faintly hear voices from inside the door, though she couldn’t make out the content. Looks shabby, but the soundproofing must be good. She glanced out the window. The inner castle was the administrative, political, and military hub, packed with important facilities. Unlike the outer castle—bustling with people laughing and talking on every street—it lacked vibrancy. It could be summed up in one word.
“Bored.”

She said this five minutes after claiming she’d wait patiently. In the wild, every moment was preparation for the future—killing time idly would only hurt her later. I think I understand why Dad insisted on exercising every weekend, complaining about being tired. She couldn’t stay still, feeling restless. Lena shot up. This won’t do. Let’s get some fresh air.

She’d been told to wait “right here” for “just a moment.” But what’s the standard for “here”? The exact spot pointed out, or a distance she could return from without delay when called? It must be the latter. How could anyone expect a person to stay perfectly still? Even with a waiting number at a restaurant, it was more common to look around nearby than sit still until your name was called. Sure, that’s because you get a phone alert, but she’d hear Celine call her name too. Besides, it was just a stroll within the knight order grounds—she could cover that distance in a flash.

“You’re bored too, right? Let’s go for a walk.” She was also concerned about Badugi, hidden in the shadows. You think I can’t stay still just because I’m bored? I’m just taking the dog out to kill time. Lena felt justified.

The knight order headquarters was dilapidated. Dilapidated, but as the saying goes, even a rotten fish is still a fish—it had everything it needed. The scarecrows on sandy ground must be the training field; the obstacle-filled course, perhaps the riding grounds? Armory, blacksmith, defensive facilities, barracks, chapel, prison—it had it all. The flaw was that none of it seemed properly maintained.

Still, looking around was fun. These were facilities typically found only in military installations, even in the medieval era. It felt like visiting a tourist attraction—not bad at all. The armory and blacksmith, in particular, strongly tempted her. Swords! Spears! Shields! Armor! Boys are naturally crazy about metal. Though her body’s s*x had changed, Lena’s identity remained firm. Hmm, should I go or not?

A travel itinerary must be chosen carefully. To hit all the tourist spots in one day, the route had to be efficient. The armory and blacksmith’s locations were awkward—tucked in an odd corner of the grounds, making it hard to see the attractions on the opposite side. It wouldn’t matter if time was plentiful, but there was no telling when the “immigration check” would end. So, should I look elsewhere first? What if Celine calls before I see them? The regret would linger, probably keeping her up at night.

“Ah, whatever.” It’s not like today was the only day. Since Celine belonged to the knight order, she could probably visit anytime. Even if the tour got cut short today, she should go where she wanted first. The steady smoke rising from the blacksmith’s forge was a big factor—someone was working inside. A blacksmith! How could she resist a burly, muscular, bald old man? Lena moved to replenish the medieval romance that had ebbed away upon seeing the knight order’s shabbiness.

The air was scorching—the first time Lena had felt such heat in this world. The Great Forest was typically cool, like most forests, and Carvalon Castle had a chilly atmosphere. Though she’d only been to those two places. Anyway, it was a good sign. The stinging heat on her skin proved the furnace was operating—someone was really working inside.

Chiiiik! The heated metal screamed as it touched cold water. Clang! Clang! The heavy sound of hammering echoed. Whoosh, whoosh, the bellows fanned the flames, making them roar stronger. It was a scene she could imagine just from the sounds. I can’t wait—I have to see it quick!
“Excuse me!”

Lena headed inside, deliberately making her presence known. From indirect experience, she’d learned craftsmen being ill-tempered was the norm. Being assertive and bold often left a better impression than being timid. Plus, she was trespassing on someone’s workplace—to avoid being reported, establishing a justification was key.

“Oh.” Lena was impressed for the first time. Yes, this is it. Weapons and horseshoes hung on the walls, metal scraps and ashes littered the floor. The pungent smell of iron and soot, mixed with the sour scent of ingrained sweat, faded amidst it all. Flames blazed fiercely in a furnace far larger than a fireplace. And the finishing touch: the blacksmith, dripping sweat, heating metal in front of it.

[You have discovered a key NPC who can provide clues for the “Carvalon Castle’s Tension” quest!]
[Obtaining the clue requires a careful and meticulous approach!]
[※Warning: If persuasion fails, you will not get another chance to obtain the clue from this NPC!]

“Ah.” But Lena soon grew disheartened. As always, she ignored the status window spouting gibberish. Bald… he isn’t? The blacksmith had long, flowing hair. His muscles were compact and toned, not bulging, and his upper body wasn’t bare—his clothes were fastened securely. He was so different from the blacksmiths she’d seen in media. No, wait, the bandits I met coming here had clean clothes too. Media often exaggerates for attention. Maybe this blacksmith was the average—did one have to be bald to be a master craftsman? Graying hair and a white beard could be just as trustworthy. Gandalf was a prime example.

But wouldn’t sparks catch his hair on fire? No, surviving means he’s strong. He must be a master with wondrous skills to grow his hair and beard that long without issue. Lena’s trust in him soared sky-high.
“Hello, may I look around?”
“…”
“Uh, do I need to pay an entrance fee? What should I do? I’m not curious enough to pay to watch.” Should I just leave?

Fortunately, the blacksmith seemed merely taciturn, resuming his hammering. Watching from up close, she grew mesmerized, like blankly watching a YouTube video. It feels like I’m finally spacing out and relaxing after so long. Even so, her keen eyes analyzed his movements—the snap of his wrist, the angle of the strike, the timing intervals, the force control. She learned much just by watching. Will this be useful later? Random YouTube knowledge had helped her survive the wild—learning anything was worthwhile.

As she grew accustomed to the technique, her vision expanded beyond it—not philosophy or resolve, but something familiar. Reflecting on her memories, Lena realized. Ah, this is that. It was similar to the energy Python had imbued in its scales, and the energy she’d once felt, prompted by Celine’s words. Mana. The blacksmith was using mana channeled through his body for his work. So it works like that.

Celine had explained it as the fundamental element of creation, flowing within the body like blood—spreading from the heart, circulating everywhere. Mana seeped into bones, muscles, and skin, strengthening them. So that’s why his muscles don’t need to be bulging—mana makes up for it.

[Seasoned Insight is activated!]
So, does this mean I can do it like this? Lena acted on intuition.
[You have grasped the Mana Circuit!]

Oh, it works. She became aware of mana flowing through her right arm. Once she got the hang of it, it felt so simple she wondered why she couldn’t do it before—like riding a bike, something her body remembered. Does this mean I can make scales shimmer like Python too? She tried excitedly, but it didn’t work well. Is my mana insufficient? It seemed she was gathering mana from the atmosphere instead of drawing it from her body like the blacksmith.

But drawing mana from the body feels iffy. In martial arts novels, innate energy—qi derived from life force—could kill you if depleted. What if this is like that? As Lena struggled, taking the hard path while ignoring the easy one—Clang!—a sharp hammering broke the rhythm. The hammer struck the iron lump’s edge awkwardly, glancing off.

Should I apologize? Seeing him suddenly falter after doing so well, his concentration must’ve broken—obviously because of her mana manipulation. As she furtively watched, the blacksmith threw down the half-formed iron. Wow! This isn’t the pottery I wanted! Craftsmen really do that. Witnessing a scene she’d only seen online, Lena’s eyes sparkled.

“You have attained enlightenment.”
“?”
“The sense of drawing upon the mana of Great Nature is a precious talent. Similar to mages, yet different. They rearrange Great Nature’s mana to establish laws, but your gift is to absorb it into your body without filtering it through breath and wield it directly.”

The blacksmith said something unexpected.
“I haven’t seen your face before. Are you a newcomer? Come to think of it, I heard there was a promising talent among this batch of recruits. Your nerve, more than your talent, pleases me. It’s rare for even existing knights to boldly visit my dwelling.” A hint of satisfaction appeared on his face.
“Since we shared this moment of enlightenment, it behooves this old man to offer a gift. Tell me what you desire.”

[…Persuasion successful!]
[You can now obtain clues related to quest progression!]

The blacksmith’s words, the brightly shining status window acting like it was a big deal—everything was incomprehensible to Lena.