Bai Chen lifted the tiny Nergigante from his head.
"You can't come with me today," he said, patting the dragon's spiky brow. "Be good and guard the house."
The hatchling let out a low rawr, clearly unwilling.
"I'll be back soon, promise."
He set her down gently, placed both the Monster Ball and Poké Ball on the table, and turned toward the door.
If those blacksmiths happened to see Nergigante… the whole outpost would go into chaos.
After all, Elder Dragons had a long, bloody history with the Hunter's Guild.
Even the current Head Chef had lost his greatsword battling one.
Bai Chen smiled helplessly and slipped outside with the little smith trotting at his side.
Behind him, Nergigante watched the door close.
After a long while, she padded back into the hall, curled up by the threshold, and began her quiet vigil.
The Hunter climbed the winding iron stairs of Astera's central spire, clutching the Commander's letter of recommendation.
Beside him, the little blacksmith's eyes shone with wonder as she looked down at the bustling first floor —
hunters in varied armor passing through markets filled with rare materials she'd never seen before.
The second floor loomed ahead — the Great Forge,
its air shimmering with heat, the walls breathing smoke like a living beast.
Above it, on the third floor, the Canteen — where Bai Chen had once earned infamy as the hunter with the endless stomach.
The blacksmith pointed a small finger toward the massive ship perched between two cliffs.
"Yama?"
"That?" Bai Chen chuckled. "That's the Starship — the one the First Fleet sailed on when they reached the New World."
"As for how it ended up stuck on a mountain… well, let's just say it got caught in a fight between two Elder Dragons. The shockwave threw it there."
The smith froze, unable to imagine such power — a mere clash that could toss a ship into the sky.
Bai Chen smiled, ruffling her hair.
"Don't worry. Someday, they'll just be your crafting materials."
"Remember, Nergigante was born to hunt those things."
"Yama!"
She clenched her tiny fists, sparks of determination burning in her eyes.
As they stepped onto the forge platform, the temperature rose sharply — at least ten degrees hotter than below.
The left corridor led into the Smithy, a fortress of black steel.
Its emblem — a split black-and-white shield with hammer and anvil etched in its corners — hung proudly above the gate.
Inside, the air rippled with heat and the clang of hammers.
The blast of the furnaces mixed with the rhythmic clang-clang-clang of steel being shaped.
The centerpiece was a gigantic molten forge, roaring like a dragon's belly.
A huge bellows — nearly the size of a Great Jagras — wheezed and pumped air into the inferno.
Bai Chen led the little smith forward until they reached the central platform,
where a broad, one-eyed man sat beside the conveyor rail — his beard as thick as steel wire, his arms like pillars of bronze.
This was the Captain of the Second Fleet.
A veteran of thirty years in the New World, one of the first pioneers who had never once returned home.
The inventor of the Clutch Claw, a tool now indispensable to hunters everywhere.
Originally, it had been a contraption to ease the strain on his aging waist.
Over time, it evolved into one of the Guild's greatest innovations.
The man grinned as Bai Chen approached.
"I just got word from the Commander," he boomed. "Didn't think you'd show up so quick."
His single eye turned, locking on the tiny stranger beside Bai Chen.
He'd already heard the story — the blacksmith from another world.
And the spark in his gaze made it clear: he already respected her.
"Captain," Bai Chen said, bowing slightly, "this is my partner, the Master Artisan. She wants to test your smiths' skills."
He leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Between us… she's a bit proud. If you could show her a few techniques, I'd appreciate it."
The Captain burst out laughing, his deep voice echoing through the forge.
"Hah! No problem at all. If she's interested, I'll teach her myself. But first…"
"Mind if I take a look at your blade?"
His eye gleamed with curiosity.
Before Bai Chen could answer, the little smith bounded forward, unhooking the black sword from his back — the Venomfang.
"Yama!" she chirped proudly, thrusting it into the Captain's massive hands.
Then she launched into an excited explanation —
metal treatment, forging pressure, temperature timing — a storm of jargon that only she understood.
The Captain blinked.
"What's she saying?"
"She said," Bai Chen replied smoothly, "this is her third most satisfying work."
"Yama!!"
The little girl stomped her foot, furious.
But Bai Chen just smiled innocently.
The Captain laughed again, drawing the sword from its sheath — and his laughter stopped.
The blade was pure black, smooth as glass, its edge humming faintly in the heat.
His single eye widened. He bent close, tracing the surface with his gaze.
"What… is this energy?" he muttered.
"It's not just the metal's trait. The elemental distribution… It's uneven."
"A monster's essence, perhaps? No… It's something else."
He turned the blade in the light, expression deepening.
Then suddenly —
"Tell me," he asked quietly, "does your partner have… a special kind of fire?"
Bai Chen blinked.
"You could tell that… just by looking?"
If you want to read more, join my Patreon/kazama677
60+ advanced chapters available.
I will drop 1 bonus chapter for every 40 Power Stones.
Bonus chapter for every 10 reviews/comments