Arwin wasted no time in trying to bond Verdant Flame to himself with [Arsenal], only to be reminded that he still had his other smithing hammer bonded to him. He found the mental bond to the weapon in his mind and severed it without a second thought. His armor instantly snapped into place around him as [Arsenal] faded. According to the skill description, it wouldn’t come back until the following day – which meant Arwin wasn’t going to let his new weapon out of his sight for just as long. He reached up to his armor, frowning slightly as his hands ran along a rough gouge in its center. He’d still yet to actually get around to fixing the damage he’d taken during the dungeon. And, as much as he wanted to show off his new creation, it was more important to make sure he didn’t have a glaring ‘stab me here’ target right in the middle of his chest. Arwin set his hammer down by his anvil and worked himself out of his armor, setting the scale mail down beside the hearth. He still had enough scales to patch the damage his armor had taken, but he did pause for a moment to consider if he should make himself a plate chestpiece rather than a mail one. No. Not yet. I promised myself I’d try to sell some shit today, and that’s what I’m going to do. He gathered some scales and brought them into the hearth, letting his [Soul Flame] heat them before setting about patching the damage to his shirt. He’d gotten pretty decent at working with the scales, so the entire process took him less than an hour. Arwin pulled the [Soul Flame] from the Hearth and donned his armor once more. Nodding to himself, he slung his hammer over a shoulder and paused to hide its properties from any prying eyes before scooping up the armor he’d made to sell and striding outside, balancing it on his shoulder in a large pile. He was a little weary for having missed sleeping, but something about forging almost seemed to sustain him. It definitely wasn’t the same as getting a good night of rest, but he didn’t feel anywhere near exhausted as he should have. I wonder if energy from the Mesh counts as energy for your brain as well. That’s an interesting thought. Could you hypothetically make so many items that the Mesh just gives you endless energy and you never have to sleep? “No,” Reya and Lillia said in unison. “What?” Arwin asked defensively. “It’s a good name.” “No, it really isn’t,” Reya said. “And if you’re going to sell stuff, don’t you need a smith’s mark or something?” Arwin frowned. “A smith’s mark?” “You know, the little badge or stamp that shows you’re the one that made something,” Reya said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You put it on all the equipment you make so when people travel out with it, it’s easy for them to figure out that you’re the one that made something. It’s good for brand recognition.” “Brand?” Arwin raised an eyebrow. “I dunno. I just heard it somewhere. Do you want advice or not?” “Please, continue,” Arwin said. He would have raised his hands in surrender if doing so wouldn’t have caused him to drop everything he had on the floor. The idea of marking his work was actually rather appealing, and it made a lot of sense. It’s like free marketing. I just need to make sure the mark doesn’t look stupid. Well, that and I also have to get around to actually making a brand of some sort to put my mark on anything I make. “That’s kind of it. I didn’t think of anything beyond that,” Reya admitted. Why stop at just a mark, though? One of my biggest concerns has been that the guild could bring me trouble before I’m ready to handle them if they figure out who I am. What if I get a whole persona, mask and everything? People love masks. I could make it as well, from a sheet of scrap metal or something. “You’re a genius,” Arwin said. “I can’t just be Arwin. I should pretend to be someone else.” “I didn’t say anything about that at all,” Reya said, staring at him in befuddlement. “Are you okay?” “Perfectly,” Arwin replied with a grin. He laid the armor on the ground beside Reya, then nudged it with his foot. “Watch over that, would you? I need to make something really quick.” Before either she or Lillia could respond, Arwin was out the door and down the street. He shot back into the smithy and hurried over to his forge, throwing some [Soul Flame] into it and pumping the bellows. While they heated, Arwin let his eyes drift over the room. He didn’t have any of the metal that Reya had gifted him left over – he’d used every single piece of it in making his hammer. He still had some of the other stuff she’d brought over, though – and that would be more than enough for his purposes. Arwin gathered some of the scrap and tossed it into the hearth, more occupied with figuring out exactly what his seal would be. Something catchy. Maybe something to do with fire. Flame, perhaps? What about… Black Flame? Wait, that definitely won’t work. It sounds badass, but I don’t use Black Flame. Also, something tells me someone else is already using that. I mean, isn’t every branding of flame on a piece of armor going to end up being black? As Arwin mused, a thought struck him. A snicker escaped his lips, but the longer he thought about it, the more tempting it became. It was a bit on the nose – more than a bit, if he was honest with himself. I could be Ifrit. A monster known for immense magical power and the ability to grant wishes, though it twists them to make sure the result is always as horrible as possible. Calling myself a Genie would be too arrogant – but this fits perfectly. And, once the guild learns who I am, I imagine it won’t be long before they start calling me a monster as well. Might as well lean into it. Arwin took a piece of metal from the hearth and set it on the anvil. He hoisted Verdant Blaze and brought it down on the burnt orange metal with a ringing crash. It was a bit awkward to hold because of its size, but after a few more swings, Arwin started to pick it up. Flakes of metal fell away from the piece as he worked, shaping it into a rough circle. It didn’t take long before he had a several-inch thick disk resting on the anvil before him. For the design, something simple and clear should work great. But how do I actually put the design in? I’ll have to make it stick out so it gets pressed into whatever I’m marking, but I don’t really have any small tools. Arwin looked around the shop, half-hoping he’d find a Jeweler’s kit lying around somewhere, but there was no such luck. Huffing, he brought the disk he’d made back to the hearth to re-heat it. Guess I’ll do this like a kid. It’s finger art time. Once the puck was glowing, Arwin pressed a finger into the softened metal and started to – very slowly – press a design into it.