Chapter 53
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: The Black Mage's Request
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Clang! Clang!
The blacksmith district was always noisy with the sound of hammers pounding iron. Commerce and industry were what kept a country alive. The streets themselves seemed a bit heated from that productive fervor. Workers with bare torsos hauled timber and goods everywhere, and flames roared from the forges. It truly felt like an industrial zone.
I decided to check out each blacksmith one by one to pick the right one. Shopping with money in your pocket was always fun. Shops lined the street, their signs adorned with swords and armor.
What I'd set my mind on buying today was a pair of gauntlets to protect my hands and forearms, and a new sword to boost my combat power. My current sword had been wearing out lately—I'd been meaning to replace it sometime.
Planning to browse them all, I stepped into the nearest blacksmith.
"Welcome! What are you looking for?"
"Uh, just browsing swords."
I waved off the eager clerk trying to guide me and looked around the back.
The inner display featured bone-made weapons like boneswords and bonespears alongside flashy bone armor with inefficient shoulder pauldrons. Wearing that would make shoulder movement a nightmare, right?
"This is our pride and joy, the Bonesword. How about one?"
"I'm looking for an iron sword."
A bonesword was exactly what it sounded like—a blade made from monster bones. It looked high-maintenance and brittle. The pointless fang decorations didn't help either.
I was a man who valued practicality over flash.
Besides, bones from monsters at this level couldn't possibly outlast iron in durability. Sure, weapons from powerful beasts like dragonbone were said to be tougher than steel, but I'd never even seen one. In my opinion, rare metal weapons were better anyway.
It seemed like a bone specialist shop, so I left without hesitation. Bone shops were best left for bone soup joints. The ribcage-shaped armor and horned skull helms tempted my collector's itch, but they were style pieces, not battle gear.
Back on the street, I spotted a blacksmith that specialized in swords. I headed in.
"Looking for a sword? You've come to the right place."
"Feels like it."
Whoa, an exclamation slipped out. Swords of every type and size were beautifully displayed all around the shop. My blood started pumping.
"Hmm... What kind of weapon are you after? Given your build, a greatsword might suit you."
A greatsword was battlefield infantry gear, not something an adventurer lugged around. Its size got in the way, and it demanded serious skill to wield properly.
I scanned the blades. Powerful-looking朴刀s, agile single-edged swords and rapiers. Broadswords and longswords with hand guards for protection. One-handers and shields went without saying.
Why no king bonesword? Just kidding.
I pondered my options, but one blade immediately caught my eye.
"Oho... A bastard sword, eh? Suits you well. Good eye."
"Can I handle it?"
"Of course. Here, let me get it for you."
I took the simple-designed bastard sword.
It was a hybrid: wieldable with one or two hands. But it was a tad short for two hands and a bit long for one.
"Nice grip."
Compared to most isekai protagonists, my superior physique meant that flaw didn't bother me. For me, it was all upsides.
"Good weight too."
About a meter long, just over a kilo.
Perfect. This was it.
"I'll take this one. Price?"
"2 silver 30 copper."
No such thing as free happiness, damn it.
Way too expensive.
"Oof, that's steep. Hey, clerk."
"Yes?"
"While swapping swords, wanna buy my old one?"
I handed over the blade I'd used till now. It had seen long service without much care—beat-up from adventures, but unbroken.
"Hmm... I can give you 10 copper for it."
"So trade-in and make it 2 silver 20 copper?"
"Sure thing."
Purchase complete. I left the sword shop.
I slotted the new bastard sword's scabbard into my sword belt. The added weight naturally tensed my shoulders.
Next up: iron gauntlets.
Gauntlets let you block enemy attacks with your forearms in emergencies during fights.
Without them, an arm could get sliced off or shattered. They boosted survivability massively. When skills were equal, gear decided life or death. I'd wanted gauntlets for ages. Bonus: they amped up punch power.
"So this is 4 silver? Wow."
Worth every penny, but twice the bastard sword's cost? I gawked at the gauntlets.
"A set's two pieces, so 4 silver. Fair price."
"Yeah, guess so."
In just an hour, I'd blown 6 silver 20 copper. Unbelievable. Earning was a grind, spending was instant.
But with gear left over, it was fine. This was investment for my business—easier hunts, stronger monsters, better profits.
Anyway, new sword equipped, trusty gauntlets on both hands. I itched to blood them, but time was late—no leaving the city.
Afternoon in town was awkward. Too late for fields without wasting sunset hours, too early to slack.
So I headed to the Adventurer's Guild.
To fulfill Lisha's request, I needed locals who knew the area. Krasheim was my turf, but Isbrandt wasn't. Even gathering meant knowing where stuff grew.
"A lesser drake pack's appeared northwest."
"Yeah? All the heavy hitters will swarm there for a bit."
Oddly crowded for this hour. Guild buzzing mid-afternoon? Job market must suck. Adventurers nursed beers, chatting idly everywhere.
"You interested in the Soul Refinement Cult?"
"Those cult weirdos? Pass."
"Hear me out. Cultivating your spirit elevates the soul to higher realms."
"Three more beers and my soul's flying away."
I half-listened as I checked the board. Ignoring the mess, I hunted for material-gathering parties.
Hmm... Mostly F-rank parties, as expected. Mages and alchemists haggled prices down, so lowbies handled it.
Might have to join F-ranks, but no thanks. Rookies meant headaches.
"Hm?"
Glancing around, I spotted a familiar face.
"Gibson?"
It was Gibson.
Not Kobson—Gibson, the teen adventurer from the goblin cave we wrecked last time. Decent guy, as I recalled. Glad to see him, I called out.
"Whoa, Gibson! Good to see you."
"Katt? First time since goblins."
He recognized me and greeted back.
Lounging here like me meant he was free. Perfect timing—no one else to ask.
"Got plans? I'm free now."
"Nah... Just scouting quests."
"Hmm. Actually, I need stuff for a request—magic grass, etc."
"Party invite? If it's not too crazy, I'm in."
Party member one, acquired.
"Kinda. You know manaweed? Scale wolves too. Need a bit."
"Ah, scale wolves live in the eastern swamp."
"They do?"
"Their hides sell well. Hunting 'em? Count me in."
Scale Wolf.
A wolf covered head to tail in scales, literally.
Was it even a wolf? Scales on a wolf with regenerating severed tails? More lizard. Four legs aside, not very wolf-like.
No wolf relation apparent, but called one, so whatever. Annoying monsters: scales blocked blades, agile, carnivorous. Predators snapping small fry easily. But I'd beaten one by chance before—no biggie.
"Par-ty for-med."
"Pardon?"
"Sounds great, Gibson. Let's hunt scale wolves."
Thus, Gibson and I partied up. Swamps had manaweed and such aplenty. Risky, but two more decent folks and we'd profit.
We posted: [Eastern Swamp] Scale Wolf Hunt, recruiting.
"Scale wolves? Take me too."
Soon snagged two loungers. First: grizzled axe-wielding E-rank uncle adventurer, Morris. Stocky build.
Man, tough living as an adventurer at that age.
"Eastern swamp? All E-ranks? How about me?"
Next: Claudy, brown-skinned, pale purple-haired E-rank woman. Tight clothes, hooded. Twin curved swords at hips—dual-wield pro? She knew style.
Paperwork done, Claudy cheekily compared heights.
"Look buff. Mercia native? Good money in this."
"Haha, you look sword-savvy too. And yep, Mircesha."
Brown skin suggested another ethnicity. First dual-wielder I'd met. High-skill sword art—expert? Or just main and spare.
Four of us swapped intros, prepped by morning, meet at east gate.
After parting, I hit the general store for misc items and a back bag. Essential for hauling to Lisha.
Hides and monster bits in the bag, plant stuff in belt pouch. Good to go.