After our spar, they ended up staying at my house for the time being. As the "man of the house," or rather, the child of the house, I needed to ensure our visitors felt welcome. It would be impolite to force guests to leave, so I'll put up with whatever shenanigans these two have in store.
"So, what do you say, Julian?!" Ezekiel looked at me with a bright look in his eyes. "Are you willing to join Aethel Academy?"
He sat in the rocking chair, swaying back and forth, awaiting my reply.
I could only stare at him blankly, as if I hadn't heard him the first time. He still hadn't given up on me attending, but even so, it would be difficult to afford the exam and entrance fees.
I never understood why someone like him would be interested in someone as boring as me. My mother had always been overly protective, allowing very few visitors.
But it seemed Ezekiel and his servant were exceptions.
I recalled all the times my mother denied visits from strange elders and unmarried men.
She's incredibly loyal to my supposedly dead father... who I assume is dead, since, well, I haven't seen him around at all. But I don't care much about that.
At least with Ezekiel here, I have some semblance of freedom. Of course, I don't want to leave my mother alone after all she's sacrificed for me. As her son, I believe it's my duty to do what's right and repay her.
"I'll think about it... just don't expect much," I replied carefully, trying to conserve my social energy.
"You'll be fine, Mr. Julian," Corsan said warmly. "I believe you're very talented."
"Thank you, Mr. Nivel."
I bowed my head respectfully, but he looked confused, as if to say, 'Why are you bowing?' He probably wasn't used to such respect from a child.
But talent, huh? Do I really have talent in this world?
"Oh, Julian?" Ezekiel's voice called from across the room. He stood up from the rocking chair, and I could sense he was planning something.
"Yes?"
"Can you show us around the village?" Ezekiel's eyes flicked past me, and I felt a strange communication between him and Corsan.
"Uh, sure?"
I didn't know what they were up to, but I figured even after going outside for a spar, I still needed as much sunlight as possible. Who knows? I might never go outside again.
***
Heading out towards the village of Nefta, I ventured out once more, this time with Ezekiel and his servant, Corsan. I wasn't sure what to show them, struggling a bit with directions since I didn't know many places.
Another thing about this world is that the language is entirely different from standard English. Thankfully, the system helped me translate everything.
Haah...
As we walked, I could smell freshly baked bread, and the fresh air felt wonderful.
"We're here." I stopped in front of our village sign.
Despite being a child, walking on my own two feet, I couldn't help but admire the village. It was well-maintained, with houses that were well-built for a medieval-modern world. I wondered what the main city of Aureus looked like, having only read about it in my past life.
"This is the main center of the village," I gestured towards the bustling area with its small shops, food stalls, a tavern, a blacksmith, and more.
"Wow!" Ezekiel's eyes glowed as if this was his first time here.
We ended up exploring the entire village as if it were our last day. We tried all kinds of food, and Ezekiel even forced Corsan to pay for me, though I wasn't very hungry.
Finally, we visited the blacksmith. Although I knew very few people in the village, my mother often visited the blacksmith to buy materials.
His name was still fresh in my head and I knew who this character was from the moment I had met him.
His name was still fresh in my mind, and I knew who he was from the moment I met him.
Merten, the Dwarven Blacksmith.
He was known throughout the land as the "Golden Lion's Black Gloves," a title earned for the legendary masterpieces he crafted during his time in Aureus.
His creations included the Draken Plate of Obliteration, the Grand Caster, and the Reverent Sword of Obsidian.
These were weapons that played a crucial role in shaping the history of this world.
It was hard to believe such a renowned figure lived during the early stages of the story.
Interestingly, Merten didn't create these legendary weapons until after the Great Breakout.
Before that, in an era of peace, there was simply no need for such powerful instruments of war.
That's why his extraordinary talent remained undiscovered for so long, hidden away in this quiet corner of the village.
WHOOSH!
The door creaked open, and a blast of heat from the forge slammed into my face, sending my hair flying. The air was thick with the scent of coal smoke and hot metal.
DUNG!… DUNG!…DUNG!...
The bell above the door clanged repeatedly, its sound almost swallowed by the roar of the forge and the rhythmic clang of a hammer striking steel.
Ezekiel immediately hid behind Corsan, seeking refuge from the intense heat.
Corsan, however, seemed unfazed. As the head servant of the Ventus household, he was undoubtedly accustomed to harsh conditions and needed to be strong enough to protect their heir.
"What's going on, Mr. Nivel?" Ezekiel poked him, but Corsan remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the workshop's depths.
I, on the other hand, felt a near-unbearable heatwave as I tried to get closer to the desk at the front of the shop.
"WHO IS IT?!" a gruff voice boomed from within.
STOMP...STOMP...STOMP...
"Listen, mayor, I told you already! I'm not rebuilding that blasted house!"
From the depths of the workshop, a figure emerged. Despite the thunderous approach, the blacksmith was surprisingly small, barely reaching five feet in height.
"Wait a minute... you guys aren't the mayor, but... customers!" the dwarf's grey eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh, it's you, Julian!" he exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across his face.