The tiny inn room felt heavy.
The few bills and scattered coins spread across the plain sheet looked like a bunch of demoralized soldiers after a defeat.
"Sigh…" Shane couldn't help it. He nudged the pathetic pile with a finger.
Between hot springs, that sword purchase, and little costs on the road, the money they'd earned from the bandits and the smith was down to just over 20,000 J—everything the two of them had left combined.
If they hadn't piggybacked on Gildarts for the train fare to Magnolia and the lodging along the way, they probably couldn't afford even this cheapest inn for long.
"Erza…" Shane looked helplessly at the girl sitting on the bed.
He really didn't get it—there was a perfectly good girls' dorm at the guild, so why insist on squeezing into this inn with him?
Erza shot him a glance and ignored him. She unbuckled her newly bought longsword and handed it over.
He blinked, surprised. She'd been guarding this thing jealously, not even letting him touch it before.
"Well… we'll be doing jobs soon. It needs to stay in good shape."
Her head turned aside under his stare, and she offered the explanation.
"I said that at the start. You're the one who went 'It's my sword' and refused to hand it over." He grumbled, but closed his hand around the hilt anyway.
Switching to Archer, he invoked [Arrow Construction], treating the blade as a special "arrow" and boosting it.
Erza watched quietly, a flicker of awe in her eyes.
You could literally see tiny impurities being smoothed out of the metal as the sword's structure and resilience refined and strengthened.
"No matter how many times I see it, that way you 'reinforce' things… it's crazy," she murmured.
After a while, Shane passed the sword back; the blade gleamed sharper than before.
"Still a long way off," he said, with a catch of longing. "One day I'll be able to make swords ten times better than this without even trying."
He had a feeling that once he cracked Saber's True Name, his smithing would jump to a whole new tier.
But the immediate problem was…
They were broke.
The money left covered only a few more nights in this place.
Erza sheathed the sword and said, "Then tomorrow let's check the guild for a job. If it takes us out of town, we can check out. Inns like this are everywhere."
Shane nodded. "Good plan. Erza, I'm impressed—you've gotten very practical."
He could tell she liked the noisy guild; just hearing "Fairy Tail" made her eyes brighten a little.
"Then sleep early—we head to the guild first thing." True to form, Erza lay down as soon as she said it, tugged the blanket over, and was out in seconds, breathing slow and even.
Shane eyed her, jealous. "Eat well, sleep well—what are her nerves made of…"
Her sleeping posture, though, left much to be desired.
Soon she rolled toward him like a heat-seeking animal, arms hooking around him by reflex.
"Oi…" he grunted as dead weight settled in, shoving her off, annoyed.
No response.
"If we could afford two rooms…" He felt his personal space being absolutely destroyed and tasted the full helplessness of poverty again.
After a moment's thought, he yanked his arm free and stuffed the spare pillow into her arms.
She hugged it instinctively, rubbing her cheek against it like a cat.
"Whew…" He scooted down toward the foot of the bed, carving out a tiny corner for himself.
With the "sleep crisis" patched, he went back to business—closed his eyes and sank into the Book.
Time to cash out.
"Show completed trial."
[Trial: Hungry Curiosity vs. Curbed Curiosity — COMPLETE!]
[Evaluation: You refused knowledge within easy reach, binding your own surging curiosity. A seeker must want—but must also restrain. Your choice fits the spirit of a Heroic Spirit.]
Plain and tidy—with no "bonus reward" tags.
Shane wasn't disappointed.
He hadn't dug hard into this one; the trickiest enemy wasn't even taken down by his hand. Getting the base reward at all was enough.
This time's payout: one Summon Depth upgrade and one Trait Filter permission.
He thought it through. Saber's True Name still unsolved; using both now felt premature.
And now that he'd tasted the rare banner, he wanted to see what came out of those dimmed trait entries later on.
So he parked them—saving the permissions to stack for a future summon.
Once he'd mapped that out, he mulled over life in Magnolia a bit—and a wave of deep fatigue hit.
Requip theory had drained more brainpower than expected. He yawned and shifted to lie down for real.
Just as he slid toward sleep, the same as last time, a wild, blazing current rose without a sound and swallowed his senses.
"Saber's vision." The thought flashed. Shock—and then joy.
After all the guesses and waiting, the second dream had finally come.
Fresh trial done, new vision dropping—good things in pairs.
The world was fire again—boundless flames, hot air warping sight.
But this time, it felt different. He wasn't passively immersed, but hanging at a higher, third-person vantage point, looking down on the blaze.
Clang… clang… clang…
What came first was a steady, heavy hammering, never stopping.
Between beats, the hiss and whoomp of red-hot metal plunged into cold water, billows of white steam blown away by the heat.
He couldn't help but focus on the heart of the circle of flame.
One figure stood there with his back to him—or maybe Shane's angle simply couldn't see his face, only the silhouette etched in furnace light, still as a mountain in his focus.
He stood before a massive anvil, arms rising and falling, hammer shaping a glowing sword-blank. Each blow threw sparks like festival fireworks.
In his hands, blades of impossible precision and flawless form were born.
And then something that made no sense.
The man seemed to feel no attachment to his masterpieces.
He would only lift each new sword, examine it briefly in the firelight. Shane could feel the flash of scrutiny in that unseen gaze—and the faintest shake of the head.
Then he gripped the blade in his bare hands and, with a crisp crack that made Shane flinch, snapped it in two and tossed it aside like scrap.
Behind him, broken swords had piled into a hill of cold metal gleam.
"Is he… dissatisfied?" Shane guessed, torn between bafflement and pain.
To his eye, any of those cast-offs would have been fabled weapons people would fight to own. Yet to this man, every one bore some unforgivable flaw.
Holding that confusion, he focused, trying to see more clearly—
And the vision froze.
~~~
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