The door to the smithy creaked open, and a girl with long blonde hair stepped inside, carrying a wooden basket under her arm.
“Hey, everyone!” Ivana called out cheerfully.
“Oh ho ho… I sure miss your delicious cooking, Ivana!”
“I brought plenty, Mr. Fokil.”
Broken raised his head, spotting Ivana. She waved at him with a friendly smile. “Hi there. Hungry?”
“Yes, definitely!”
Ivana set the food on the table, and soon the mouthwatering aroma of her cooking filled the smithy, blending with the earthy scent of fire and iron.
Fokil, already eager, walked over and took a seat at the table, motioning for Broken to join him.
“Come on, kid. This young girl has cooked a lot for us; don’t just leave her hanging.”
Broken smiled, setting down his tools. He sauntered over to the table and joined them for dinner.
The three of them enjoyed their dinner, with Ivana’s lively chatter and jokes filling the room. Fokil, in an unusually jovial mood, listened and responded to Ivana’s stories with hearty laughter.
“Listen, Mr. Fokil…” Ivana began. “There was this one guy, super powerful, who showed up with his whole guild and challenged the entire city. He specifically wanted to duel Broken. But Maylock, the smartest in the Ass Guild, told Broken it wasn’t a good idea to accept. If you were in that position, what would you do?”
Fokil scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I’d never be in that position, because I’m not one to work with others. But… I’m not sure what I’d do.”
Ivana giggled and continued, “Well, Broken accepted the challenge! He walked right outside the city gates, took the guy on, and defeated him easily. Ha ha ha!”
Fokil’s eyes widened with interest. “So, what did his guild mates do?”
“They all came out, ready for a full-on war. But in the end, their Guild Master apologized and left without a fight,” Ivana explained. “And to think, the Ass Guild was already gearing up for an all-out battle!”
“Hmph,” Fokil grunted. “If I were that Guild Master, I’d definitely be seeking revenge. Losing like that would wound my pride deeply.”
Broken chuckled quietly, listening to the banter between the two.
Time passed quickly at the dinner table. Ivana’s light chuckles and cheerful presence lit up the atmosphere. She covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed, then turned to Broken.
“Are you going to continue your work, Broken?” she asked softly.
“Yes, thanks for the meal, Ivana…”
Fokil chimed in. “You should treat her properly, kid. Look at everything she does for you.”
“Mr. Fokil… I do it because I want to,” Ivana said with a smile.
“Sure, Mr. Fokil… She’s my responsibility,” Broken added as he stood up.
Fokil muttered under his breath, raising an eyebrow. “Responsibility?” Then, glancing back
at Ivana, he asked, “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant with his baby?”
“Uh…” Ivana’s face turned bright red at both Broken’s words and Fokil’s sudden, unexpected question.
“No, Mr. Fokil… you’ve misunderstood…”
“So, he doesn’t want to take responsibility for the baby in your womb?” Fokil continued.
“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” Ivana quickly clarified.
Fokil, looking puzzled, rubbed his chin. “Then why does he think you’re his responsibility?” he murmured to himself as he wandered back to his working area.
Ivana took a deep breath and smiled, then walked over to Broken, sitting on a wooden chair near him as he worked.
She watched him quietly for a moment, then clenched her fists playfully and said, “Ganbatte, Broken!”
Broken turned to her, slightly startled. “Where did you learn that?”
“Livelywood often teaches me foreign languages,” she giggled.
“Ah… I see,” he chuckled, amused at hearing her use Japanese. “I think you should keep learning new things from everyone around you.”
Ivana nodded, still smiling. “I will!”
After spending several hours at the forge, Broken finally completed another set of Blessed Stones. The results were impressive-32% of them were medium quality, 37% were high quality, and the rest were low quality.
Fokil’s face twisted with annoyance as he realized Broken had crafted more High-Quality Blessed Stones in a single session than Fokil typically managed in a week.
“You really are an annoyance, Kid.”
Ivana smiled warmly at the comment. “He definitely seems to be your most prized apprentice, doesn’t he, Mr. Fokil?”
“I really wish I hadn’t taken him on as an apprentice,” Fokil replied with a sigh.
Broken, meanwhile, carefully laid out his most-used weapons.
“The higher the grade of the weapon, the smaller your chance of successfully upgrading it,
Kid,” Fokil stated firmly.
Broken nodded slowly, fully aware of the risks involved. He began arranging his weapons in order, ready to push his luck and take on the next challenge.
[(Legendary) +15 Wavebreaker Spear]
[(Legendary) +12 The Moonvine Knuckles – Guardian Treant Lv. 210 (Growth Type)]
[(Legendary) The Scorchslayer]
[(Legendary) Abyssbreaker]
[(Legendary) +6 Bedrock Breaker Pickaxe]
[(Unique) +12 Gravestone Greatsword]
[(Epic) +9 The Bow of Artemis]
Broken carefully arranged his weapons in order of priority for upgrading. As he looked at them, he realized just how many powerful items he had accumulated. To his own amazement, five of them were Legendary-grade!
Fokil raised an eyebrow. “What on earth have you been doing, kid? Did you rob a noble family and steal their heirlooms? How do you have more Legendary-grade items than even a king in a kingdom might possess?”
Ivana giggled. “Yes, Mr. Fokil, Broken even invited me to join him on this robbery spree.”
Fokil turned to Ivana with a sigh. “I’m starting to think it was a mistake leaving you in his
care, Ivana.”
“Blame Broken for this, Mr. Fokil.”
Broken smiled at the banter. “Mr. Fokil, you shouldn’t jump to conclusions after hearing just one side of the story. You’d be shocked to know how much Ivana enjoyed herself when we ‘took down’ this noble family. A young master, and even the head of the household…”
“Ivana?” Fokil turned to her.
“Mr. Fokil,” Ivana said with a smile, “Broken mentioned that they were demons, so it wasn’t
that bad.”
Fokil sighed heavily, shaking his head. “One day, he’ll have you taking out other races, and I’ll have even more reason to worry about you both.”
Turning to Broken, he added, “You’re being a terrible influence on her, kid.”
Broken chuckled. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll take full responsibility for her.”
“You better,” Fokil said with a serious tone. “Otherwise, I’ll curse you for the rest of your
life.”
Broken shifted his focus back to the list of weapons he wanted to upgrade.
“Do you know that upgrade levels can be transferred, right, kid? Only a fool would try upgrading five Legendary-grade weapons at once. You’ll end up broke if you waste that many resources.”
Broken nodded, fully aware that upgrade levels could be transferred between weapons. However, the results varied-sometimes it succeeded without any penalty, other times the level dropped, and in the worst-case scenario, the transfer could fail, lowering the level
significantly.
“Surely you’re not planning to fight using all those different types of weapons, are you?” Fokil added, raising an eyebrow. “Knuckles, sword, spear, greatsword, bow and even a
pickaxe? That’s just stupid.”
Broken paused, considering Fokil’s words. He needed to decide which weapon he would rely on most in battle. Using so many different types was impractical. He had to pick a main weapon to prioritize for upgrades, something versatile that could adapt to various situations. He looked over his collection, weighing his options.