The moment Lady Seraphina's crimson carriage disappeared, the tense, professional energy in the forge evaporated. Elara sank onto a nearby crate, her calloused hands trembling slightly. She stared at the small, heavy pouch of gold coins on the workbench—a down payment larger than her earnings from the entire previous month.
"Elven-style filigree… differential tempering…" she murmured, more to herself than to Kenji. "By the forge fathers, what have you gotten me into, boy?" There was no anger in her voice, only a profound sense of awe and terror.
Kenji, meanwhile, was staring at his own status screen, a triumphant grin on his face. He had two new skill points to spend.
[Skill Points Available: 2]
[Discerning Eye for Elegance (Lv. 1)] -> Upgrade (1 SP)
[Aura of the Respectful Son (Lv. 1)] -> Upgrade (1 SP)
[Heart-Stopping Compliment (Lv. 1)] -> Upgrade (1 SP)
[Attentive Ear (Lv. 1)] -> Upgrade (1 SP)
Thinking of the delicate task ahead, he knew exactly what he needed. He invested both points into [Attentive Ear].
[Attentive Ear has been upgraded to Lv. 3!]
> [Attentive Ear (Passive, Lv. 3)]: Allows Host to hear the unspoken needs, frustrations, and memories associated with a target's words. Greatly increases empathy and the chance of providing meaningful support.]
When he looked up from his mental menu, he saw the doubt warring with determination on Elara's face. His newly enhanced skill kicked in, and the unspoken words echoed in his mind as clearly as if she'd shouted them.
Unspoken Need: "This is the kind of work Aron and I used to do together. He handled the fine details; I managed the fire and the blade. I haven't tried silverwork this complex since he passed. What if I can't do it alone? What if I fail?"
The realization hit Kenji with the force of a hammer blow. This wasn't just a difficult commission for her; it was a painful reminder of her late husband.
"We can give the money back," Kenji said softly. "There's no shame in it. This is a master-level task."
Elara's head snapped up, her hazel eyes flashing with their familiar fire. "Give it back? And admit defeat? Never." She stood, her spine straightening with resolve. "A smith's promise is forged in fire, same as her steel. I accepted the job. I will see it done." She looked at him, her expression serious. "But I'll need your help. Not just with the chores. I need your eyes, and your… strange insights. I'll need you to be my striker."
And so, the work began. The forge became a sanctuary of focused effort. The first three days were dedicated to the blade itself. Elara was in her element, a master painter with a palette of fire and steel. She folded the metal again and again, hammering out impurities, her movements a powerful, hypnotic dance.
Kenji's role was crucial. He operated the bellows, his rhythm perfectly in sync with her needs, keeping the coals at a precise, shimmering heat. His [Attentive Ear] was a constant guide. He'd hear her unspoken frustration—"The heat is dropping too quickly on the western edge!"—and would adjust the airflow before she even had to speak a word. He learned the subtle language of her craft: the specific hiss of a perfect quench, the resonant ring of a well-struck blow, the low groan of steel nearing its breaking point.
The true test came when they began the hilt. Elara brought out a small, velvet-lined box. Inside were delicate tools Kenji had never seen before—tiny hammers, fine-tipped tongs, and gravers for etching. This was the silverwork.
Her confidence from the forge vanished. Her large, strong hands, so sure with a forging hammer, seemed clumsy and foreign holding the tiny tools. She melted a piece of silver, her first attempt at drawing it into a fine wire, but her hand shook, and the wire snapped.
She let out a sharp, frustrated curse, throwing the broken piece onto the bench. "It's no good. My hands are too rough for this now. They only remember the hammer."
Unspoken Memory: A vision of a younger Elara, laughing as a man with broad shoulders and a kind smile guided her hands, showing her how to twist the silver into the shape of a leaf. "You have the touch for it, my love," his voice echoed in her memory. "The strength of a smith, and the grace of an artist."
Kenji's heart ached for her. This wasn't the time for a flashy compliment. This required something more. He stepped forward, picked up a piece of scrap steel, and handed her the forging hammer she'd set aside.
"You're right," he said. "These hands remember the hammer. They remember a thousand hours of heat and force. They remember shaping steel that can shatter stone. Silver is softer. It's gentler. It's not an enemy to be beaten into submission. It's a partner. You just have to re-introduce yourself." He paused, then used his [Heart-Stopping Compliment] skill, channeling not romance, but pure, unadulterated respect.
"The same hands that can forge a shield to stop a charging gorlak have the memory of creating beauty. Trust that memory, Elara. The artistry is still in you. It never left."
The system-enhanced words washed over her. Her shoulders, which had been hunched in frustration, relaxed. The anger in her eyes faded, replaced by a watery sheen. She looked at her own hands, not as clumsy tools, but as a repository of a lifetime of skill and love.
She took a deep breath, set the hammer down, and picked up the silver wire once more. This time, her hand was steady. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and full of a rediscovered grace. The silver flowed under her touch, twisting into the elegant, leaf-like patterns of an elven design.
Kenji watched, mesmerized, as she worked late into the night, the delicate filigree taking shape under her masterful hands. He had not only helped her save a commission; he had helped her reclaim a piece of herself.
A final, satisfying ping echoed in his mind.
[MAIN QUEST COMPLETE!]
[Quest: The Blacksmith's Burden]
[Objective: Earn a place to stay by proving your usefulness to Elara. (Complete)]
[Reward: +1000 EXP! Level Up! Title Unlocked: [The Smith's Attendant]. Permanent Lodging at The Scorched Anvil. Elara's Trust -> [Familial Bond].]
He wasn't just a helper anymore. He had found a home.