Chapter 22: Seria (1)
In the age of barbarians, disability was a sin. Out of ignorance. The truth was that she was born with a congenital deformity, but to those who didn't know, she looked like a demon or a sinner. That's why she was despised and oppressed.
But Balun was a proud, enlightened citizen of 21st-century South Korea, so he didn't think like those barbaric folks. He knew the truth. What crime did a disabled person commit? They were just different from others, that's all. So they should be treated the same as everyone else. Without excessive consideration, without pity, without making a show of it...
Balun tried. He failed spectacularly.
'No way I can ignore that.'
Balun could say for sure. No one could ignore it. How could you not stare at ears like that?
'Those things steal your gaze completely.'
They say people look at eyes first when seeing someone. The problem was those ears were right next to her eyes. Not staring at those long, freakish ears was physically impossible. And to top it off, her hair was green. You couldn't not look even if you tried.
"So, that sly old wizard Kalente told you to bring me this letter? Said I'd make your weapons if you delivered it?"
"Yeah."
"Ha, that crafty mage bastard. Still holding onto a promise from years ago?"
Whether that smooth forehead furrowed or she spewed curses that didn't suit her, none of it registered with Balun's eyes or ears. He was just mortified. He was trying so hard not to stare at those long ears, but failing miserably.
'Balun, hold it together. You gotta hold it. You're not that rude. This is bad manners on a first meeting.'
Balun desperately convinced himself. It was the only way to keep his composure and continue the conversation.
'Think about it. That's gotta be a sore spot. Staring like this, she'll hate me.'
Normally, Balun wouldn't go this far. But he was desperate because the woman in front of him was going to forge his weapons. The benefactor who would create his prized number one treasure, an S-grade badass weapon. How could he be rude to her?
Balun wanted to impress her. Rack up as many points as possible. That way, she'd make his weapons the best they could be. Imagine if she got offended and skimped on materials or cut corners to save costs. This wasn't some cheap apartment complex.
"Quit glaring like that."
"Huh?"
"First time seeing an elf?"
"Uh? Oh, no."
Balun panicked. Elf?
'Wait. Elves have long ears and live in forests...'
Of course Balun knew what an elf was. He'd devoured games and web novels in his past life. He just hadn't connected it to reality. They weren't a real species on Earth. Plus, growing up 16 years in the Red Fang Tribe, he'd never even heard of other races.
"Your staring's gonna pierce my ears. Planning to pierce 'em or what?"
"Oh, sorry."
Balun scratched his head. What an idiotic misunderstanding. He'd treated a perfectly fine—well, elf—like a disabled person...
"Just stare openly. That's better."
"Really?"
"I said so."
"Got it."
Now Balun could look naturally. Seeing him obey so meekly, Seria smirked.
"Heh, man. First barbarian this weird in my life. What kinda case is this?"
Balun flinched at that. He took it as mockery. Because he'd treated her like disabled? Or stared too much? Even if she said to stare, overdoing it was still rude.
'Damn, I'm screwed. First impression totally bombed.'
But Seria wasn't mocking him. She literally found him fascinating. Every barbarian she'd met hated her guts. Calling her "ear freak" or "skinny-armed weakling," saying her kind was cowardly, avoiding her like the plague. But this one showed none of that, just meekly followed her words. How could she not be intrigued? And those eyes—like looking at a respected teacher. So refreshing.
"Come in already. Don't just stand there like an idiot."
"Got it."
"Kalente sent you, so I can't just ignore ya. Tea? Wait, barbarians hate tea. Beer then?"
"Nah, tea's fine."
"Tea? That's rare. Whatever, fine. Wait a sec."
Sitting there, Seria brewed tea. Floral scent, but super astringent.
"How's it? Decent?"
"Good."
"That's expensive stuff. Only from our homeland. Don't give it to just anyone."
"Figures. Tastes great."
Balun sipped without complaint, so Seria leaned in, staring intently. What? Why the deep gaze?
"What's up?"
"You're just so weird."
"What is?"
"That you drink it fine."
"Weird?"
"Super weird. Never seen a human who likes it. Let alone a barbarian?"
Balun tilted his head. Why hate this? Smells amazing. Astringent, sure, but no big deal. He'd loved tea in his past life.
Seria was probably right about it being pricey.
"People got no taste. Balun likes this tea. Excellent stuff."
"No taste...? What's that?"
"Tasteless idiots."
Seria's eyes widened, then she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach, wiping tears.
"Pfft, exactly! You get it. Humans don't know good tea. So tasty and rare, but they whine 'no flavor, why so bitter?' Fucking morons!"
Seria sped up, ranting excitedly, then calmed.
"You pass."
"Huh?"
"I like you. You're worthy to wield my weapons. Better than those noble pricks by a mile."
"What?"
"I'll make 'em!"
Balun jumped. Damn, startled me. Why yell?
"It's an honor. I don't forge for just anyone. Only the worthy. Even if it's that mage's request."
Seria grinned smugly. Balun just tilted his head. No clue. Wasn't the first impression ruined?
* * *
After tea time, Balun described the weapon he wanted in detail. Seria jotted notes, then scratched her brow.
"Two-handed axe one, hand axes two. Two-hander main, hand axes utility. Fine so far, but next part's trouble. Handle must be true elfwood. This."
"Why trouble?"
"You even know what true elfwood is, asking for it?"
"Good material."
"Good material, yeah. It is. But... ha."
Of course Balun had no idea. Kalente insisted, so he said it. What did material matter? As long as it held his amplified strength from Reinforcement Technique.
"Driving me nuts. That crazy mage is trying to bleed me dry. Ugh."
"Expensive?"
"What?"
"True elfwood."
"Duh. Treasure of our clan. You'd work centuries and not afford one. And you want it as a handle?"
Balun's eyes widened. How good was this wood?
"No choice. Promise is promise. We elves keep ours. Unlike you cowardly humans."
"You'll make it?"
"I don't lie."
"Great!"
Balun nodded happily, reaching for his pouch to pay.
"Pay upfront. How much?"
"No fee. Barbarians ain't got money."
"Balun has money. Show you?"
As Balun showed his pouch, Seria stopped him.
"Enough. Keep it. Few silvers at most."
"Wrong. Balun has 200 gold."
Balun boasted, but Seria just snickered.
"Pfft, 200 gold? Yeah right."
"Really have it."
"Fine, pocket it. I don't steal snot-rags."
No, really have money.
"Follow me. Measurements."
"Measurements?"
"Prep before forging. Hurry."
Balun followed her deeper into the forge. Hotter heat hit him. Seria tied her long hair in a ponytail, positioned him in a corner with geometric patterns on the floor. Looked familiar—like Kalente's talent test.
"Shirt off, stand here. Stay still."
"Why shirt?"
"Need your mana traits. Easier without clothes."
"For weapons?"
"Always do it this way. Hate it? Go elsewhere."
"No. Fine."
Didn't get it, but obeyed. Master smith, her secret method probably.
'Like custom tailoring. Custom weapon?'
Balun stood in the circle center. Seria placed her palm on his back. Warmth, then alien sensation flooded in. After over 10 minutes, she pulled away, groaning low.
"Why's your body like this?"
"Problem?"
"No problem, just... baffling."
"Why?"
"Mana level's normal human. No aura training. But your bones and muscles? Insanely superior. Orc? High orc?"
"Human."
"No. Better than orcs. Troll? Ogre?"
"Human, told you."
Balun felt suddenly sad. Now speciesism on top of racism?
"Impossible. Human with this body?"
"Probably constitution."
"What?"
"Balun's special."
Balun explained: bones/muscles absorb way more mana, so mana accumulation slow. But gained Reinforcement Technique, explosive physical boost. Didn't want to say, but she pressed. Wouldn't forge without it.
Seria nodded, getting it.
"Ah, that explains true elfwood insistence. Tell me sooner if special!"
Smack! Balun winced, rubbing his back.
"Ow! Why hit?"
"To hurt. You're insolent."
Ridiculous. How know to tell beforehand?
"For Ego Weapons, must grasp mana traits perfectly. Can't even try without. Nearly made me fail—you lucky I didn't hit harder."
Balun blinked. Ego Weapon. Kalente mentioned: weapons that choose owners.
Thought nonsense then. Tools don't choose. But now, with magic and races, why not?
"Balun gets Ego Weapon?"
"Duh? I only make Ego Weapons."
"Hm?"
"What? You had no clue? What I forge?"
Balun just blinked. Who cares? Smiths are smiths.