Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Forged in Mind Rhian had been meaning to visit the blacksmith shops for weeks but never found the right time. With the portal lockdown and scattered class schedules, the chance just hadn’t come. Now, with the day clear and his thoughts more focused, he figured it was time. His current merit points sat at 5,000. That was more than most had at his level, and he knew it. Without the portals, students weren’t earning nearly as fast, but some instructors had been compensating through class performance. Or rather, Mr. Callor had. As the head of Rhian’s combat division, Callor wasn’t subtle about favoring results. Whenever Rhian overperformed in a sparring session or theory exam, he found extra credits added to his account. It wasn’t favoritism, it was incentive. Rhian was one of the top performers in the class, and Callor seemed intent on squeezing every ounce of growth from him. Still, Rhian wasn’t sure if 5,000 points would be enough for what he wanted. Probably not. A fully custom weapon built to match the one he designed in the simulation would cost more. A lot more. But he figured going there now would help him gauge how close he was. Maybe he could order something lesser, something temporary, just to bridge the gap. He remembered Nia had asked to come with him when he finally went. She hadn’t been shy about it either. She claimed she was an elite negotiator and could keep him from getting scammed. Rhian had doubts about that. But honestly, he didn’t care much about the haggling. He just liked the company. Thinking of Nia, Rhian pulled out his phone and called her. She didn’t take long to arrive. As she walked up behind him, she tried to sneak a scare, only to find that the Rhian in front of her vanished. It was an illusion. "Boo," Rhian said from behind her. Without hesitation, Nia elbowed him. "Seriously?" "Hey... that’s not nice," he said, playfully shoving her shoulder. "Come on, we’re going to the forge," he added. "Also, why are you sweaty..." "I was going through the last core," she said casually. "After this one—say hello to D-Rank Nia. What about you? Last I remember, you said you were this close to reaching it." She pinched her fingers together for emphasis. "Well, I’m stuck at the moment. I finished all my cores... but I don’t mind. Hopefully they open the portals. I feel like I’ve been singing that song for a while." They finally stepped outside. It was more populated than the inside of the buildings, with students walking in clusters, chatting or heading to different sections of the academy. Rhian and Nia made their way toward the Plaza section. The academy grounds were more alive than usual. Students wandered across the stone paths, sitting near benches or chatting under tall lampposts. Most of them were from other branches, those not affected by the lockdown. Rhian and Nia walked past them, earning the usual stares. He ignored them. "So, this forge..." Nia asked, glancing around. "You know what you’re getting?" "Sort of," Rhian said. "I have the blueprint from the simulation. It’s not perfect, but it’s based on how I move. Dual blades, light, but reinforced to channel energy if needed." "Sounds expensive," she said, raising an eyebrow. "That’s why I want to ask around. Maybe find someone decent who doesn’t try to scam first years." She smirked. "Lucky for you, I brought a shield against scams." "You mean intimidation?" "I mean results." They stepped into the Plaza. This section of the academy looked different, wider spaces, open stalls, and more permanent structures. The blacksmith shops lined the far edge like a small district of their own, each one with a crest or a name etched in metal above the entrance. Sparks flew from a nearby forge, where a student was hammering down on a curved blade. Another worked with glowing stone beside a molten crucible. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂 As they got closer to the forge quarter, the scent of hot metal and burning coal thickened in the air. Rhian and Nia didn’t make it far before two figures suddenly stepped in their path. One was a broad-shouldered man with a heavy apron, thick gloves stuffed into his waistband, and soot smudging his cheeks. He stood tall, clearly proud of his size and build. The other was barely up to Rhian’s chest. Stocky and muscular, with a tangled beard and arms like steel cables, the dwarf glared up at them like they owed him something. He had a scuffed hammer slung over his back and walked with a permanent hunch that didn’t seem to bother him. "Oi!" the dwarf barked, jabbing a finger at Rhian’s chest. "You lookin’ to forge somethin’ or just walk around with yer wings flappin’ in the wind like a bloody tourist?" The taller man immediately stepped in, holding a hand out toward Rhian and Nia with a salesman’s grin. "Ignore him. He’s been chewing metal dust since birth. You two need custom gear? My forge’s got the best stock in the entire plaza. Guaranteed performance, smooth finish, no sharp welds." The dwarf scoffed so hard it sounded like a war cry. "Smooth finish? What’re you, buildin’ baby rattles? You want gear that don’t fall apart the first time it sees blood, you come to me. I don’t do pretty—I do functional. Real. Like a punch in the jaw and a boot to the groin." "Yeah, and it looks like it," the taller man said. "Everything you make looks like it was dug out of a junkyard." The dwarf crossed his arms. "And everything you make looks like it belongs on a pageant stage! Might as well hand out ribbons with ’em." "Uh..." Rhian muttered, caught between the two. His eyes flicked from the polished grin of the tall man to the twitching eyebrow of the dwarf who looked ready to explode. The dwarf leaned in, face red with fury and pride. "My ancestors forged spears and hammers for gods, boy. Not kings. Not soldiers. Gods. Weapons that carved mountains in half and turned seas to steam. And I carry that craft in my blood—every strike of my hammer remembers it." The tall man rolled his eyes. "Oh great, here we go. Every week it’s a different story. Last time it was made up giants, week before that it was a dragon. Pretty soon you’ll be claiming you made this whole city yourself." The dwarf spun on him, fury bubbling out like a kettle ready to burst. "You mock the forge that built empires? That tempered lightning into steel? While you’re busy polishing handles and kissing client arses, I’m making weapons that sing when they kill!" "Yeah," the taller man said, crossing his arms. "They sing alright. More like screech. Loudest damn sword I ever heard." The dwarf snarled, stepping forward like he was about to throw hands, until he caught Rhian watching and took a deep breath. "You want something built to last? You come to me. If you want shiny, fragile showpieces for posing in the mirror, go with that long-necked coat rack." Rhian raised a brow, unsure if he should laugh or start running. Nia, beside him, was clearly holding back a grin.