Valerian spent one more day inside the room before he could finally move. Wen would come in the morning and help him to the washroom in this one week. He was grateful to this grumpy young man. Zen arranged a pair of clothes for him. Although not picky, he could not help but take a few hours to get used to the coarse, itchy clothes. Beggars could not be choosers.

During this one week in this place, he got to learn a lot of things from Zen. This place was a remote village where life was slow, and the people were mostly farmers and earned a livelihood by selling their produce to the merchants every six months.

Valerian had expressed his wish to travel this world and go to the place where he could gather more information. Zen smiled and told him that the place he should visit was the City Of Arcane.

The young man wanted to know what was so special about this place when the lady shook her head and told him to be patient. Valerian smiled at her but agreed. He needed to be calm and patient and get used to his new reality. His body was now deprived of mana and battle aura. He needed to gain strength and train himself. This period of five months would serve him perfectly.

...

Valerian woke up with the rooster call and tried to stand up. He was not allowed to move on without supervision till yesterday. Only when he showed Zen that he would not fall would the lady allow him movement.

He sorted his clothes and walked out of the room. He knew the layout of the house from the sounds he heard. The young man walked out and found Zen cooking in the kitchen attached to the living room. He greeted her and said, "Good morning."

The girl raised her head and delightfully smiled, "Good morning to you too. Come have a bite."

Valerian nodded and said, "I would like to move around first. I am not used to being confined in the bed."

Zen chuckled and remarked, "All boys are the same, go on, but Valerian, do not exhaust yourself."

The young man nodded and left the house. Valerian came to the backyard and was surprised. He looked at the clear blue sky, and in the distance, he saw a black streak running from the ground to the sky.

Just when he was wondering what it was, the streak vanished. Valerian rubbed his eyes, and upon finding nothing, he sighed, thinking he still needed some time to recover. At this moment, he registered some clanking sound coming from a shack on the side.

Valerian picked up his feet toward the shack and peeked inside. He saw Wen standing before a furnace, hammering down the hot piece of iron. However, after only a few hits, the metal cooled down. Wen hurriedly placed the piece back inside the furnace and blew the fire to reheat the metal.

However, the heat was not well controlled. In the sense of hurry, something was bound to go wrong. Wen picked the hammer, but the hits were not firm. The metal piece cracked from the middle. The young man gripped the hammer tightly and shivered in frustration.

Valerian sighed and said, "Wen, I have some experience as a smith. If you do not mind, I can help you blow the fire to keep this metal piece heated."

Wen was surprised at the young man standing at the shack door and scoffed, "Do you think this is a joke?"

Valerian had been dealing with this grumpy kid, and he was only holding back because he was sick and his sister was kind to him. He was indebted to them. The young man sighed and walked over to pick up the piece of metal.

Wen grunted, but Valerian glared at him, and the former could not help but freeze. The rage contained inside Valerian’s eyes was not something he had ever seen.

The young man with silver hair did not waste time and placed the piece of metal inside the furnace. He walked over to the blower and began to fan the fire. The heat raised, and the black piece of metal turned red.

Valerian used a pair of tongs to pick the red metal out of the fire. He placed it on the anvil and extended his hand, and Wen instinctively gave him the hammer. Valerian gazed at the piece of metal and swung his hammer down. The clear clank was shocking for Wen.

Valerian had no hesitation in his actions, and the strength behind this one hit was driven from every fiber of his body. Wen could see his muscles moving with every swing. Valerian did not go forward with hitting the metal as much as he could before the metal cooled down.

After three hits, he placed the metal back inside the furnace and again fanned the fire. Wen asked, "Why are you not hitting it more? It has not cooled down yet."

Valerian replied, "This metal hardens when hit. You will eventually ruin all your effort if you hit it until it turns cold. Only heat is keeping it malleable. Rather than hitting it till it turns cold, keeping it malleable is more important."

Wen thought about it and asked, "How will you ensure the uniformity of the hits? I need to make a sword out of it."

Valerian stopped fanning the fire and asked with a ridiculous face, "Such a shabby level sword? Are your customers looking for death?"

Wen was embarrassed and snapped, "What do you know? I have taught myself the hard way. Ever since my father died, I watched my mom and Zen burn their souls. Do you know how we found you? We were coming back from my mother’s funeral. She died from exhaustion and sickness.

I do not want to lose Zen to the circumstances like this. So, this is the only way I can lower some of her burden."

Valerian did not know what to say. He was taken aback when he heard Wen tell him the real situation. He did not know that Zen was hiding all the pain behind her bright smile. He sighed and said, "Fine, I will help you make a sword, but we need better material. Is there any way we can find some?"

Wen was surprised, and Valerian said, "Trust me, it will improve your life."

The young native let out a deep breath and calmed his emotions. He said, "There is one person who has a good metal collection. However, he will not sell us the good batch. The ones I use were all scraps he did not want."

Valerian nodded and said, "It is not that this batch of metal is bad, just that it is too hard and brittle after cooling down and is unsuitable to be made into a sword on its own. We must find something that could retain some elasticity after being quenched."

Wen asked, "Why is that? Aren’t swords supposed to be sharp? A softer metal will bend too easily."

Valerian shook his head and said, "A sword edge must be sharp and tough to inflict damage. However, the reed of the blade should be soft to absorb the shock from the collision."

Wen did not understand, and Valerian sighed as he said, "You will know when I finish making one. Now shall we go find that guy you mentioned?"

However, at this moment, a berating voice sounded, "Wen, get over here for breakfast, you muscle head."

Valerian shivered from the shout and moved quickly to get back to the house. Wen followed behind him. The meal was simple and filling. Zen mentioned she would go to the surrounding woods with a few girls to find herbs.

Wen nodded and asked her to be careful. The villagers used some common herbs for condiments. Since Zen was a doctor, so she could distinguish whether the herb was ripe.

...

After Zen left, Wen bought Valerian, the so-called richest man in the village. This man was a small merchant who transported material for a big miner. He would steal a few bits and trinkets from his consignment and stow them here. The man was careful not to take more than what might get noticed.

After all, it was common for a few grams to go missing or fall on the way. This was what Wen told Valerian. The young man was not surprised; besides, humans could not be honest.

Wen said, "Let me talk to him. He is kind to us."

Valerian nodded, and Wen walked through a mud fence and called out kindly, "Uncle Salvator. Are you home?"

Valerian could swear he never expected such a sound from his mouth. A jovial voice sounded, "Oh, Wen has come. Hahaha, kid, you ran out of metal again?"

Wen scratched the back of his head as he bowed to a middle-aged man coming out of the house entrance. The person was surprised to notice Valerian, and Wen quickly made the introduction. Salvator nodded, and Valerian bowed slightly to the man.

Brown nosing was an art and Valerian was a master in politics and diplomacy. Wen said, "Uncle, do you have some scraps?"

Salvator nodded with a smile and said, "Yes, go to the back. You will find them in the usual place. However, there are a few from the last time. Wen, these days, my client might visit me. How about you help me stow away the scraps?"

Wen was surprised and wanted to deny it when Salvator patted his shoulder and said, "Do not hurry to deny. These scraps have been consuming space for decades now. I have no use of them, the merchants will not buy them. You can use them for practice."

Wen was confused when Valerian cleared his throat. The young native finally agreed.