Ding!
A crisp chime echoed in Lock's mind.
Achievement Triggered — [I Am a Little Blacksmith]
Mission Goal: Successfully forge a tool recognized by senior blacksmith Harry.
Reward: Strength +3, Coordination +3, Weapon Mastery +3.
Penalty: None.
Time Limit: One month.
Lock stared blankly at the translucent text floating in his vision.
"A little blacksmith? I don't have time to learn—" he muttered, then caught the look on Harry's face.
"You're fussy for someone so young," Harry said, arms crossed, brow furrowed. "It's just a question — do you want to learn or not?"
Lock's thoughts snapped into place. The reward shimmered in his mind's eye. Strength and coordination, he could build through training — but weapon mastery? That was different.
In the battles to come, facing Titans would mean relying on special blades. Mastering them early could be the edge between life and death. If he gained that skill now, before the Training Corps… his starting point would be far ahead of everyone else.
He didn't hesitate.
"I'll learn," Lock said firmly, eyes locked on Harry's. "My dream is to become a blacksmith!"
Harry's frown split into a wide grin. He clapped a heavy hand on Lock's shoulder — too hard, judging by the dull ache that spread down his arm — and laughed.
"Good! That's the spirit!"
The blows stung, but Lock couldn't stop grinning.
From that day forward, Lock was no longer just a boy swinging a hammer in the background. He became Harry's apprentice. Alongside breaking down iron slag, he began learning the fine work — shaping, tempering, and the subtle art of controlling heat and force.
It was harder than he'd imagined. The work demanded not just muscle but precision, patience, and endurance. But the promise of those system rewards lit a fire in him that never dimmed.
Weeks passed, his strength climbing to rival Harry's own. The changes didn't show in his frame — he still looked lean, not hulking — but anyone who'd felt the weight of his hammer knew better. His explosive power, coordination, and resilience grew with every swing.
Eventually, though, his progress slowed. Where once he'd felt himself improve daily, now the gains came only after days of relentless effort. The stronger he became, the harder each step forward was.
So he focused. No more splitting his time across every exercise. For now, there was only one goal: forge a blade worthy of Harry's approval.
Government policy limited what a civilian forge could produce. Weapons were heavily restricted — but kitchen knives and farming tools were fair game.
Lock chose the knife.
The process was pure tradition — no shortcuts, no machinery. Heat the iron until it glows, hammer away the impurities, shape it stroke by stroke, quench it in water. Every step demanded exact control over temperature, force, and timing.
Harry watched from the side, Martha hovering at the doorway. She looked ready to tell Lock to stop before he collapsed, but Harry stopped her with a quiet shake of his head.
"Look at him," Harry murmured. "Not once has he thought about giving up."
Martha sighed, muttering something about making Harry sleep on the floor if the boy fell sick, but she didn't step in.
Hours later, the final shape emerged — a wide, gleaming kitchen knife. Lock exhaled hard, his arms trembling. "My first official work," he thought with a wry smile. "And it's a kitchen knife."
He set out to sharpen it. Another long, grinding task, each stroke against the whetstone wearing at what little energy he had left. At last, more than half an hour later, the blade was ready.
He plucked a single strand of hair from his head, held it above the knife, and blew gently. The hair fell cleanly in two.
"A pity," he said quietly. "It's just a kitchen knife."
Ding!
The system's voice rang in his head again.
Achievement Complete — [I Am a Little Blacksmith]
A rush of fresh energy surged through his exhausted muscles. Strength pulsed in his grip; coordination and weapon mastery simmered beneath the surface, waiting to be tested.
But before he could enjoy the moment, another chime followed.
Ding! Advanced Task Unlocked — [A Little Test of Skills]