The after-party had concluded, but the city continued to pulsate with a festive ambiance that spilled over into the following day. John and his companions spent most of the day exploring the enchanting city, their steps guided by curiosity and the desire to discover hidden gems within the multitude of smithies and workshops. Their mission was twofold: to find items that resonated with their tastes and to seek out skilled dwarven craftsmen who could bring their visions to life. Nicholas was fortunate enough to cross paths with a talented artisan who agreed to forge a new breastplate tailored to his specifications, while the others struggled to find craftsmen who aligned with their unique desires.
As the sun dawned on the next day, John divided his time between rigorous training sessions and engaging discussions with the magic and science elders, specifically their methods of transforming the infertile northern tundra into fertile farmland. Hans accompanied the young prince, throughout most of the day, only leaving his side once evening fell. Meanwhile, Nicholas and Friedrich sought to establish closer bonds with the dwarven inhabitants, striving to bridge the cultural gap that separated them.
A week passed swiftly for John, filled with a blend of arduous training, conversations with the elders, and diplomatic discussions. Friedrich and Nicholas, through their persistent efforts, managed to earn the trust of some dwarves, granting them the opportunity to test experimental weapons crafted by the dwarven artisans. Though their results proved modest at best, their determination propelled them forward. Eventually, they even found themselves partaking in the spirited evening drinking sessions of the high dwarves, striving to match their alcohol tolerance to that of Hans, though falling short by a decent margin.
One week passed, and then another, with John starting to notice the persistent gaze of the same pair of eyes. It was the blind old man, who seemed to be drawn to John's training area. By the end of the third week, the old man boldly positioned himself right next to where John practiced. Although John, with his seasoned background, had developed a thick skin and chosen to ignore the old man's presence, he couldn't shake off a nagging sense of suspicion. Hans, however, took a different approach and formed a peculiar bond with the old man. Over time, the old man confided in Hans, revealing his past as a soldier who had fought in wars when he was young. Tragically, he had lost everything he held dear due to his extended absence on campaigns. The man's family had been murdered in his absence, and his friends were executed on false charges of treason. Upon returning home, he was greeted not by the joyful calls of his son and daughter, but by their lifeless bodies. Overwhelmed by grief, the old man shed tears until his eyes bled, symbolically gouging them out as a penance for his absence during their time of need. Wrapping himself in a blanket, he refused to speak further and sought solace in sleep.
While John found the old man's story deeply saddening and empathized with his pain, he chose not to intervene. He knew that everyone who had served in the army carried their own burdens, whether in the past, present, or future.
Weeks turned into months, and six weeks had already elapsed since John and the others had arrived in Ferrum Castrum. As the days passed, the old man grew increasingly involved in John's training. Having completed his city tour, Nicholas watched with amusement, intervening only when necessary.
Curiosity finally got the better of John, and he decided to confront the old man. Standing before a straw dummy with a blindfold that the old man had provided, John broke the silence. "Old man, I can't help but wonder why you're so interested in my actions. Most people would distance themselves once they discover who I am. Your approach is quite the opposite. Please forgive me if this question seems intrusive, but who are you?"
The old man paused for a moment, his weathered face showing the weight of forgotten memories. "I don't know… I've long forgotten the answer to that question. All that remains is what stands before you—a blind old man, waiting for the day I can finally see my family," he replied, slowly rising with the aid of his wooden stick.
"As for your next question, while I may not see you, I can sense your emotions. You can control how your face appears, but you can never conceal the true feelings within your heart, young child. I simply do not wish to witness another walking the same path I once trod," the old man said as he swung his stick towards John's leg, the boy had stopped swinging and was focusing on the old man.
It didn't take long for the initial 6 weeks to stretch into 8, and one day, unexpectedly, the chief elder paid a visit to John during his training. The chief elder took a few measurements of John's useless left arm and left without offering much explanation. Although John found it peculiar, he had learned during his two months in Ferrum Castrum that the dwarves were an eccentric bunch, and some things were better left unquestioned.
Two more weeks flew by, and with only two weeks left before his departure from the dwarven city, John reflected on his time here. Surprisingly, the blind old man had imparted more wisdom and knowledge than John had initially realized. In the short span of his stay, John had not only formed friendships with the dwarves but had also honed his skills. He had considered himself a seasoned warrior with formidable skills, but he had become aware of his weaknesses and the loss of instinctual actions. While in his previous life, John could have easily bested Nicholas in combat after forming his core, relying on skill and reflex, the current John had lost much of the muscle memory developed over time. He had grown overly reliant on his enhanced eyesight, which had been changing since he began forming his full-body mana heart. However, due to the blindfolded training sessions in the past month, where the old man had struck at him unpredictably, John had reawakened his survival instincts and reflexes.
And just like that, John's three-month stay had come to an end. During their time in Ferrum Castrum, the group had acquired numerous benefits. John had gained a better grasp of controlling his other senses, Nicholas had obtained a new set of armor, Friedrich had commissioned a custom sword, and as for Hans, well, he had indulged in his love for alcohol, spending his time drinking with the dwarves who had taken a particular liking to him. By the end of their stay, Hans had accumulated a pile of gifts larger than those of the other three combined.
"Here, take this. For the past three months, as I've come to know you, I've grown incredibly optimistic about the dream you shared on the day of the triparty meeting. These are my small gifts to you, things I've put a great deal of effort into," the chief expressed, reaching for a massive wooden box that stood about 70% of his height. As he handed it to John, an audible gasp rippled through the onlookers.
"Chief, I thought you retired from forging. What is this?" the blacksmith elder inquired, approaching the chief with a mix of happiness and surprise evident on his face.
"I may be retired, but these old hands of mine couldn't resist the urge to create something after meeting this kid… Consider it my way of satisfying that itch," the chief elder chuckled, affectionately patting the blacksmith elder's shoulder.
"Retired?" John questioned, his curiosity piqued. He picked up the box, examining its exterior and gauging its weight. To his surprise, it was incredibly heavy. John struggled to maintain his grip, almost dropping it.
"The chief hasn't forged anything in the past nine centuries. He claims he's too exhausted from office work to create anything. Now, open it quickly. This is a rare opportunity, so savor it. Not everyone gets something crafted by the chief," the mage elder urged, joining John's side and eagerly observing the box.
"May I?" John asked, glancing at the chief, seeking his approval before opening the weighty box.
"Go ahead. I've already given it to you. What you do with it now is of little concern to me," the chief replied, laughing at John's sense of responsibility.
"Well then, here goes nothing," John declared, carefully placing the box on the ground and bracing himself. He exerted his full strength to open it, the weight testing his resolve.
"GUUUHHHHHHH!" John roared, forcefully pulling open the box, leaving the entire city, gathered to wish them a safe journey, completely stunned and in awe.