Arwin got back to the smithy after spending a little over one hundred gold on various supplies and repair materials. He took them out of his cart and brought them into the cracked building one by one, stacking the extra stone and brick by the wall beside the mortar and a slew of new tools. Reya swung by with the Brightsteel he’d requested, dropping it off by the forge before heading over to brag to Lillia about how well their efforts had gone and dragging the cart back with her. As tempting as it was to get started on the repairs, Arwin shifted gears and grabbed one of the Brightsteel pieces, firing up his forge. A tightness had started to form in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t going to be long before he ran out of time and needed to eat a magical item. He had pretty high hopes for the new material. Better stuff to work with means it’s more likely I’ll be able to sate the [Hungering Maw] without having to make a bunch of crap. The best way to test that would be to make a nice bracelet with this instead of some crappy metal. And that was exactly what Arwin did. As the heat of his [Soul Flame] washed across the smithy, he got to work forming a bracelet out of one of the three ingots. He used Verdant Blaze to hammer it down, flattening the piece into a long strip before starting to work it into a ring. Instead of just making a basic circle, Arwin took one of the new tools he’d purchased – a small handle with a pointed end and used it to start tracing designs into the steel. He wasn’t sure if it would actually change the quality of the magical item, but it probably couldn’t hurt. He carved a vine that ran from one end of the circlet to the other, then started putting in leaves. The more he worked, the more the Brightsteel helped him. His design went from sub-average at best to something that he was actually rather proud of, and the steel matched his delight. Arwin set the tool down away from the flame and held the finished bracelet up. It had been several hours since he’d started working, but that only made the tingle of the Mesh as it raced across his skin all the more delightful. [Brightsteel Bracelet: Art Quality] has been forged. Before his supposed death, Arwin’s life had consisted of war, killing, and training to kill. The best moments had been the ones when he’d had a few seconds to breath and relax with his friends – back when they’d still lived. It had felt like he was living underwater, slowly drowning a little more every day. But now, the only things he had to do were make more armor, upgrade the smithy, and make sure they were ready to handle a small horde of Wyrms. It was far from a completely carefree life, but it finally felt like a worthwhile one. “Wish you were here with me, Blake,” Arwin muttered to himself, a pang of guilt shooting through him as he strode down the street. He’d always dreamed of leaving the war behind after it was over and settling down, but the desire to become a crafter hadn’t actually been his. It had been Blake’s dream. The man had talked Arwin’s ear off for hours on end about all the things he’d make once the demon queen had fallen, to the point where he’d started paying more attention to his own armor and weapons purely because of how much he’d inadvertently learned about smithing. I’ll live it for the two of us, Blake. I can’t help but feel as if you had some hand in me ending up as a smith. I bet you’d have gotten a huge kick out of it. A faint smile formed on Arwin’s lips. He reached the smithy and lifted the key to the door, going to turn the handle – and froze. It was already unlocked. Arwin’s grin fell away and his eyes narrowed. The thieves’s guild? Did those idiots come back? He threw the door open, striding in and preparing to activate [Arsenal] at the first sign of an ambush or an attack. But, instead of armed men, Arwin found the only person in his smithy to be a young teenager, probably around fourteen or fifteen years old. The boy was holding a brick of Brightsteel. He spun as he heard Arwin enter, dropping the ingot and lunging to grab it before it could hit the ground. The boy backed up, setting the brick on the anvil and swallowing as he held his hands out defensively. “I didn’t realize someone moved in here, mister. I don’t mean any harm.” Arwin let his hands lower. “What are you doing here?” “I used to use this place as my hideout. Thought it was weird when someone put a door on it, so I picked the lock to come in,” the boy said hurriedly. He turned the pockets of his pants inside out. “I didn’t take anything, I swear. I was just looking around.” Arwin studied the boy for a moment, but it looked like he was telling the truth. He was as thin as a rail, and Arwin strongly suspected he didn’t have a class by how little threat he felt from him. “What were you doing with my ingots?” “I dunno. They were shiny,” the boy said sheepishly. “Looked expensive.” “They are,” Arwin said. “I didn’t realize this was your hideout. I apologize.” “It’s fine. There’s lots of other places on the street,” the boy said with a shrug. “I’ll find a different one. I just liked this one because my dad was a smith. Made me feel like I was with him.” Arwin coughed into his fist. It wasn’t like anyone owned the smithy when he’d moved in, but he still felt a pang of guilt – though not nearly enough to offer up the smithy. There were other perfectly useable buildings around them. “You hiding from something?” Arwin asked. “What? No. Nothing like that, sir.” “You can just call me Ifrit,” Arwin said, shaking his head. “And you said this was your hideout, so I figured you were hiding.” “Oh, no. The thieves’ guild just expanded and took over the area I was camping out in before, so I came back to this one. It’s a bit farther from the markets, but…” he shrugged. “It’s fine. Not too busy, aside from you.” “And the tavern down the street,” Arwin said. “I can’t recommend trying to rob either me or the tavern, though.” Arwin raised an eyebrow. “I’m a re-allocator of goods.” The boy gave him a gap-toothed grin. “Sounds better that way.” Arwin couldn’t help himself from laughing. The kid had a certain upbeat air to him that made it difficult to stay uptight. “What’s your name? If you’re moving in next door, I might as well get to know you.” “Zeke. You aren’t mad about me breakin’ in then?” “Not as long as you don’t do it again or try to take anything,” Arwin said. “I’ve got bigger problems than people checking out my forge.” Zeke’s stomach rumbled loudly. His face went bright red and he scampered to the side, making to loop around Arwin so he could leave. “I’ll be off, then. Sorry ‘bout the bother.” “Hold on,” Arwin said. “You want to earn some coin? Actually earn, not steal.” “I’m doing some repairs, if you couldn’t tell,” Arwin said, nodding at the wall with all his neatly-stacked supplies. “There’s probably going to be a good bit of labor. Dragging crap out, putting crap in. That kind of thing. I’ll pay you five gold if you help me shuffle everything around today.”