Orange Forge (1)
The week after exams is generally pretty relaxed. Some professors cancel classes altogether to give us a break for our hard work, while others just lecture for about an hour and call it a day. That leaves a lot of free time in between.
Today's the same. I headed to the lecture hall, only to hear it was canceled, so I just left.
Chirp!
Right then, a bird swooped down from the sky. It was Rana's summon, Nene. The little guy circled in the air for a moment before landing on Elraim's arm. It passed her a note clutched in its beak.
Even after I saved their asses, the discrimination's still going strong.
"What does Rana say?"
"Class is canceled, so she's coming right now."
"Cool."
I was just about to go pick her up anyway. Oh, right—before that, I remembered something I needed to do.
"I've got business at the Student Council Hall, so I'll swing by there first. Go meet her and come back together."
"Understood."
We split up at the Student Council Hall.
The reason I came here is none other than to use the academy warehouse. As I mentioned before, the items stored there are precious and can't be accessed lightly. Permission finally came through today—first thing this morning, even.
As I stepped onto the first floor, I felt more glances than before, and the whispers were louder too. Word about the makeup exam had spread to other departments. It had only circulated in the Knight Department at first, but that notice board over there helped it go viral.
I was already infamous in a bad way, but now even positive talk—praise and support instead of condemnation—had people buzzing. And not just that; rumors about the punishment were flying too.
Kyle Arden kept me from getting expelled and got it down to suspension.
That's the gist. Professor Mailon must've blabbed. He basically said that if it weren't for me, everyone would've had to pack up and leave Tianis.
Well, it was all intentional on my part.
Maybe because of that, the looks people gave me were a complicated mix—plain as day on their faces. Did that scumbag really do that?
In fact, thanks to it, a few students had thanked me in passing these last couple days.
This is how you work on your reputation.
Reputation doesn't improve just by doing good deeds. It flips only when you prevent people's desires, aspirations, and efforts from going to waste. In Tianis, that's graduation from the academy. Sure, their grades took a hit, but it's nothing compared to expulsion. If anything, they'll be grateful to me. Without my intervention, all their hard work and achievements would've gone down the drain.
Unlike me, a noble, Tianis is their whole life.
For the record, I got extra credit, so all A's+.
By then, I'd reached the basement level 1. This is where the warehouse proper begins. Nothing much at the entrance—just pristine white tiled floors and walls, plus lighting. The whole area is designed as a downward passage.
I walked along the corridor. Soon enough, I spotted someone: the warehouse keeper.
"Hello."
I gave a light greeting, and he nodded back curtly.
I handed over my special card key. He took it and gestured for me to follow.
We walked the stark white corridor for a bit until we reached the end. There were stairs leading to the next level, but multiple barriers blocked the way. Since it houses valuables, ten layers of barriers envelop everything down to basement 9. To bypass them, you need the card key and the keeper's encrypted mana pattern.
The keeper placed the card key and his hand on the barrier. Moments later, it parted. He handed the key back and held up five fingers, then two.
"Fifth floor, two hours. Right?"
He nodded and motioned me in. The barrier reforms in 30 seconds, so you have to move fast.
"See you soon."
I didn't forget the farewell and headed down the stairs.
Thud, thud.
The stairs were as empty as the corridor—just light pouring from the ceiling. It really feels modern in design.
I knew my destination, so I headed straight down. Skipping level 2, then 3 and 4.
Each level stores items by rarity, getting rarer the deeper you go. Rooms are divided by category: weapons, armor, materials, elixirs. And subdivided further within.
I entered the materials room, specifically the metals section.
"Should be around here..."
This isn't some messy storage; everything's neatly on display racks. But the metal I'm after is obscure, probably tucked in a corner.
My eyes were starting to ache when...
"Found it."
There it was—a lump of rock-like metal. Even a blacksmith would curse at the sight, calling it worthless junk. But it's no such thing. A little processing turns it into a material better than any other.
Sure, picking a sword from the warehouse would save time and effort over forging it myself, but since I have the Orange Forge usage ticket, better to make it custom. And while levels 7 and 8 have great weapons, level 5's are iffy by my standards. Top-tier for sure, but they'd snap after a few uses for me.
Nothing more for me here. I left without looking back. The keeper eyed the rock dubiously, asking if that was really it, but I insisted it was fine and politely declined another chance.
Orange Forge. If you know nothing about Akacheonma, you'd find the name weird. Why slap a color on a forge? Better to name it after a place or person—colors lack punch. Though they'd stick in your memory.
But in Akacheonma, colors aren't just aesthetics. Like green for the World Tree, orange ties to a god.
The god of blacksmithing, known as Juhwang.
And Juhwang created the dwarves, a race with exceptional craftsmanship. So the Orange Forge—bearing the god's color—is basically his direct franchise. Dwarves handle the actual operations, dispatched from Justia Holy Kingdom. That's why it's more trustworthy than regular smiths. Dwarves take immense pride in their work and never sell shoddy goods.
Downside? Sky-high prices. Base starts at 1,000 gold, skyrocketing with materials and performance. Some weapons could buy a barony.
"The Orange Forge... A knight's dream come true."
"Dwarf-forged weapons are legendary. Wipe your drool."
Elraim was literally drooling. As a knight, she had a thing for weapons and armor.
"You've never been, sis?"
"No, Rana. There's one in Arden Territory, but we can't equip all the family knights with them. And buying personally? The price is brutal..."
Elraim scratched her cheek. Arden's wealthy, but not enough to outfit every knight with dwarf gear. Reserved for Masters and above. She'd hit Master next year and get her perfect sword then.
"What about you, Kyle? Been?"
"Me? Obviously not."
The family supplies Orange weapons to the heir's direct line. To get Masters used to them early via bloodline talent. That's why Veil got fitted as a kid.
Not me, though. No elixirs even, let alone weapons. Kinda bittersweet—my first dwarf blade comes via a professor, not family.
"Someday you'll get one from the family head, young master."
"Whatever. What would I even do with it now?"
Elraim tried comforting me, seeing right through it, but I brushed it off.
"It's fine. Kyle's doing great."
"Why are you piling on...?"
Rana patted my shoulder. She'd been hanging with Elraim more, picking up these habits.
"Hehe, hate it?"
"...Whatever."
I turned away. That bright smile melted away any complaints.
We'd arrived at the Orange Forge by then.
"Whoa, it's huge..."
"Yeah... massive."
Single-story height but sprawling sideways, neighborhood-sized. I'd seen it in the game, but real life hits different. Same awe as first entering Contract Land.
"I'll guide you. Follow me!"
Rana took the lead, so I let her. I knew the layout, but this time was hers.
She headed first to the shop beside the forge. "Closed for break" sign up, but she ignored it and went in.
"Hello!"
Rana's cheerful voice echoed into the air. Someone came rushing out—a short guy up to my chest, burly muscled limbs, bushy beard. Dwarf.
"Well, if it isn't Rana!"
The dwarf greeted her gruffly, then whined.
"Where you been? We've all been waiting."
"Hehe, busy with school start and exams."
"No excuses—come in, come in."
He pulled her along with his stubby arms, like a grandpa with his granddaughter. Makes sense; she's a regular, and her abilities charm them. Dwarves' straightforward nature vibes with her traits.
Hence, zero attention for us.
"Uncle, I brought friends..."
"Eh?"
Only then did he glance our way.
"Welcome."
That was it. Typical dwarf—casual unless they approve of you. Rana's the exception; instant favorite.
"What's Rana's friend want here?"
"Weapon forging! Not me—Kyle here."
Rana answered for me, dragging my arm forward. I went along without resisting.
The dwarf scowled, displeased by her familiarity.
"Rana. What're you two?"
"Friends. For now."
"For... now?"
His jaw dropped, eyes bulging. Shocked, then trembling.
"You... you dare with our pure Rana?!"
"Uncle! Don't embarrass me!"
Rana clapped a hand over his mouth. Even she, ever patient, couldn't take that.
"What a character."
"Yeah..."
I sighed inwardly, but Elraim seemed amused.
Rana calmed the fuming dwarf. His glare stayed fixed on me.
Time for business. I handed over the metal plate—the Orange Forge usage ticket.
"Came on Professor Mailon's recommendation."
He snatched it roughly, inspecting closely.
"Legit issue from us."
Pocketed it, eyed me, and growled low.
"But kid. Think this scrap gets you a custom forge?"
"Problem?"
"Problems? Plenty."
Rana jumped in.
"Uncle, Kyle's—"
"Quiet, Rana. Professor's rec or your friend, this is our pride. Can't hand our work to some hack who can't wield it."
He spoke sternly.
"Plus, that knight's Arden family. So you're the infamous punk. Forge for trash like you? Ha!"
Rana floundered. I asked politely,
"Then what'll it take?"
"Want a weapon? Prove you're worthy."
He led us deeper inside.
"Sorry, Kyle... Uncle's not usually like this..."
"Not your fault."
I knew why.
"Young master never caused trouble with dwarves, though..."
"You too. I'm fine."
Passing the entrance, sweltering heat hit us. Magic had blocked it till now.
"Even after all my visits, it's so hot..."
"Yeah... this heat..."
"Shield with mana if you can't take it."
Residual from the furnaces. Brutal even so—non-mana users couldn't last seconds. And riding the heat came another vibe.
Hoo, that shitty holy power...
I quickly blocked the holy power intrusion.
The Orange Forge is a sanctuary by nature, brimming with holy power. Crucial and sacred for smiths, intensifying near the furnaces.
Not welcome, but I'll endure for the weapon.
The two seemed fine with the holy aura wrapping them.
Following the dwarf, more appeared. But not hammering iron—apprentice smiths, kids basically. True Meister dwarves are underground.
Under constant stares, we reached a straw dummy.
"Go on, smash it."
The dwarf thumped it. Solid iron, ringing metallic.
"Got it."
I stepped up, drawing my sword—but he blocked me.
"Who said use that?"
Snatched it, shoved a dull, crude blade at me.
"What, complaints? Don't want to, leave."
"...No. I'll do it."
I took it, reset my stance before the dummy. As I swung—
"Huh, hyungnim? What brings you here?"
"Haa..."
That voice drained my strength. Why does he always show up now?