Knock, knock.
"Huh?"
I didn't feel anything. Not even the faint vibration of an elevator—just ten seconds after entering, and there was a knock.
No way, really?
Stepping out, the green-robed beauty from before was gone. Instead, a man in a blue-tinted robe stood there.
"Welcome to As Castle."
"Already? I didn't feel a thing."
"That seamless warp sensation is our Mage Tower's pride."
Warp sensation? Like ride comfort, but for warping?
"Exit through that door, and you're in As Castle."
The robed man pointed to the door with a crisp gesture.
"Have a pleasant trip, and come back soon."
His service and customer care rivaled a department store. The tower master trained them well.
Ding-a-ling.
I pulled the door open and stepped outside. Being a western village, it felt different from the Rox Marquisate's style.
"Wow."
The streets were lined with shops, bustling with people, like a lively marketplace.
"So many people."
Among the passersby were ordinary residents, but nearly half carried weapons—swords, spears, bows.
The reason was simple: As Castle's warm ground fueled forges, and nearby mines yielded quality ore, attracting blacksmiths.
"Hm, this must be Blacksmith Street."
Like a food alley, both sides were packed with forges. But the one I needed wasn't here.
I clearly remembered its name: Unicorn Forge. I hadn't specified its location in the story, so I had to search manually.
"Not here."
I circled Blacksmith Street once—no Unicorn Forge.
One more lap?
Another round, and still no sign of anything starting with "U."
"Excuse me."
"Yes!"
Feeling like I was wasting time, I approached a woman soliciting customers outside a forge.
"Do you know Unicorn Forge?"
"Unicorn Forge?"
She tapped her chin, thinking.
"It's not on Blacksmith Street. As Castle has forges everywhere, so maybe elsewhere?"
"Thanks."
I wandered As Castle, asking people and checking forges, but no one knew Unicorn Forge.
"Sigh, it's night already. This place is huge."
Even at night, the sound of hammering didn't stop. The streets grew livelier.
"Ugh, annoying."
Anyone who's searched for something and failed knows this feeling—too frustrating to even take a bathroom break. That's me right now.
A minimap would be nice. This is just piling on stress and fatigue.
"Let's call it a day."
Heading to an inn, I spotted a red glow from an alley.
"Haven't checked there. One last stop."
It was, unsurprisingly, another forge—too small to even have a sign.
Clang! Clang!
The blacksmith was hammering away, oblivious to my presence.
Ignoring him, I checked the displayed weapons. Even to my untrained eye, their quality stood out.
"Hm."
The most important thing in a sword is balanced weight distribution. Lifting one, both sides felt perfectly even.
Thud.
"Oh! Sorry, a customer?"
The blacksmith noticed me when I set the sword down and stood up.
"Do you know Unicorn Forge?"
"Unicorn Forge? No such place."
"None?"
"Yeah. Unicorn is a name I plan to use later. I can't afford a sign yet."
He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
He said he plans to use it.
I came earlier than the protagonist gets Agnes, so the forge hasn't been named Unicorn yet and is tucked away in this corner.
Found it!
"Can I look at the weapons?"
"Of course. These swords are my pride."
As he said, the displayed weapons were exceptional. But they weren't what I wanted.
"Got anything else? Old, rusty stuff?"
I described Agnes in the story as a short, rusted sword no one would want, even for free. That's what I needed.
"Rusty weapons? That's unusual."
Laughing, he opened a back door and brought out a box full of weapons.
"These are rejects I planned to sell cheap—unsellable or unfit for display."
My heart raced. Excitement made my fingertips tremble.
The box held swords, daggers, axes—everything. I described Agnes as a slightly short, rusted sword. There was only one like that.
I picked up the sword I suspected was Agnes.
It's not saying anything.
If I were the protagonist, Agnes would've spoken to me. It's an ego sword, after all.
"This wasn't made by me. It was in the storage, no idea where from. I meant to toss it, but it felt like a waste, so I kept it."
"I see."
His words confirmed it. Agnes's faint relic aura must've influenced him to keep it.
"I'll buy this."
"You want that?"
I nodded at his surprise.
"And…"
I felt a faint wind aura from a thin rapier next to Agnes. It wasn't my imagination.
"This is…"
"I made that one a while back, but it's cursed or something. It makes weird noises when held. Not for sale."
No, it's not a curse.
[Creator's Eye activated.]
[Wind Spirit Rapier]
A sword blessed by the wind spirit Sylph. Impressed by a passionate blacksmith undeterred by their pranks, they infused it with their blessing.
Effects when activated: Increased attack speed, movement speed, sharpness.
What is this guy?
"You made this?"
"Yeah, but it turned out weird. I poured everything into it, thinking it was a masterpiece, but…"
I scanned his weapons with Creator's Eye, stopping at a greatsword leaning against the wall like a decoration.
[Flame Spirit Greatsword]
A sword blessed by the lesser fire spirit Salamander. Moved by the blacksmith's intense focus, they imbued it with their power.
Effects when activated: Increased strength, stamina, weight aura.
He made two spirit-infused weapons?
That's no coincidence. This blacksmith has extraordinary talent.
"You made this greatsword too?"
"Of course. But it's a failure too. It's weirdly heavy—no one buys it. Even the strongest can barely lift it, so it's useless as a weapon."
No, it's because unworthy people touched it. If qualified, the sword would lend its power.
This blacksmith's no ordinary guy. His skill is top-notch, and he clearly has special abilities.
[Creator's Eye activated.]
[Name: Giranox]
[Traits: Enchanted Weapon Creation, Fire Affinity Lv3, Focus Lv2, Precision Lv2]
[Affection: 14 (Interest)]
A complete stranger with four traits? And Enchanted Weapon Creation—a name alone screams rare power.
Giranox doesn't even realize his own potential.
First come, first served.
"I'll take these three."
I placed the two spirit swords and the rusted sword I assumed was Agnes on the counter.
"They're all defective. You sure?"
"Yes. How much?"
"Two gold. I'll throw in the rusted one for free."
He hesitated before naming the price. If their true nature were known, these weapons wouldn't sell for 200 gold. What a steal.
But I wasn't done.
"Business seems slow."
"Yeah, the location's bad, and my skills aren't great. Most customers just look and leave. My master always said I was lacking, and he was right."
Giranox slumped, speaking weakly.
"You want lots of people to use your weapons, right?"
"Of course! My dream is for knights and heroes to wield my creations!"
That makes this easy.
"Ever thought about being hired?"
"Hired?"
"Yes."
I decided to make Giranox mine. His talent and humble attitude were perfect. Whoever his master was did a great job raising him.
"That's sudden. I'm a bit thrown off."
"Understandable."
I straightened up and looked him in the eye.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Yuren of House Rox, the invincible spear guarding the south."
I struck a pose, using grand words for effect.
"R-Rox! Oh, I'm so sorry!"
He dropped to his knees, head to the floor.
"Get up."
I tried to lift him, but he wouldn't budge.
"No, this is fine. Please, speak casually."
"Sigh, how can we talk if you're down there?"
Giranox slowly raised his head. This is the power of nobles in this world.
I'm still used to my Korean life, where I'd politely address strangers, but here, nobles talk down to commoners regardless of age.
"Fine, I'll keep it casual."
"Yes, please!"
"I want you as my blacksmith."
He still looked confused, his face full of questions.
"Why pick a mediocre blacksmith like me?"
Gotta choose my words carefully.
"Two reasons. First, your unique talent."
"Talent? I don't have any. My master scolded me daily."
Whoever his master was, they clearly didn't see his worth.
"I can see it—the moment your special talent blooms."
He blushed at the word "talent." Growing up criticized, a bit more praise should do it.
"Second, your mindset."
"Mindset?"
"Yeah. I've seen countless weapons today on Blacksmith Street. Many were good—balanced, sharp, well-weighted. But your swords had something else."
"Something else?"
His ears perked up, eager for my words.
"Your swords are great, but that's not all. The knots on the handles were meticulously crafted with care. The best I've seen."
"Oh!"
He looked happier hearing praise for his mindset than his talent, smiling with satisfaction.
"The knots prevent slipping. It shows how much you care about your customers."
"Oh!"
He couldn't take his eyes off me, clearly touched.
"You're not what the rumors say, Lord Yuren."
"What, the wastrel rumors?"
"Uh, well…"
"Haha, it's fine. Everyone knows. But I've changed. I won't disappoint."
I laughed, and he cautiously joined in.
"I've decided. I'll follow you."
"Really?"
"Yes."
His decisiveness was another point in his favor. I wanted to show him something in return.
"Here goes."
"Huh?"
"This is mine now, right?"
I held up the rusted sword I'd bought.
"Of course."
I'd planned to take it elsewhere to unlock it alone, but I changed my mind. I'd do it in front of him.
Holding the sword in a reverse grip, I cut my finger and let blood drip onto it.
Wooong!
The sword absorbed the blood, coming alive with a resonating hum.
"Awaken, Agnes, Relic of Ten Thousand Transformations."
Fwooom!
Agnes glowed as if it were the sun itself.
[Agnes's seal has been broken alone. Agnes unlocks Stage 2.]
What's this now?