Right after coming to an agreement with Vassago, Thirteen left the warehouse and headed to the plaza.
But he didn’t leave alone.
Coiled around his neck was Tiona, and sitting on his left shoulder was Vassago, looking like a dumb bird that was forced to smell the smelliest fart for an entire hour.
After reaching the plaza, the seven-year-old headed toward the Smithing District, where the best Blacksmiths of Gronar City gathered.
He entered each of the shops that he saw and inspected their wares, checking the quality and craftsmanship of the weapons and armor that were displayed for sale.
After nearly three hours of window shopping, he finally found a Smithy that met the bare minimum of the quality and standard that he was looking for.
“My Master sent me to have a custom-made order,” Thirteen said. “Can you handle bulk orders?”
The clerk who was manning the shop shook his head apologetically.
“I’m sorry, boy,” the Barbarian replied. “We have too many work orders as of late, and we don’t have time to accept any commissions right now.”
“Can I ask what you guys are working on right now?” Thirteen inquired. “We just need a few weapons for our hunting party.”
“I’m sorry, but we are also doing a bulk order of Swords and Axes right now,” the Clerk said. “In fact, not only us but almost all the Blacksmiths are commissioned to do the same.”
Thirteen thanked the clerk before leaving the Smithy.
He had an idea as to why nearly all the Blacksmiths were making weapons in bulk. But until he confirmed his suspicions, he didn’t dare make any decision.
It was no secret that the Tigerkins and the Barbarians were gearing up for a war.
He just didn’t know when this event would actually come to pass.
“Vassago, I have an errand for you,” Thirteen said after they reached an unpopulated area.
“E-E?” Vassago tilted its head to the side like the dumb bird that it was.
After he finished giving the Pocopoco an order, the bird nodded in understanding.
“You have four days,” Thirteen said. “Make sure not to get eaten by some random Monster while completing your mission.”
“E-E?” Vassago tilted its head to the side before flapping its wings to fly.
It didn’t have any intention of showing its other side in public, even if it thought that there was no one watching its location.
The boy looked at the bird until it disappeared from his vision before returning to the Smithy District.
“You know what they say,” Thirteen muttered. “If you want things done right, you must do it yourself.”
Tiona nodded her head in agreement with her Master’s words.
She didn’t know what Thirteen was thinking, but she decided to just nod to show her support to him.
—————————
It was already very late in the night by the time Thirteen returned to the warehouse.
He had rented two wagons and splurged a lot to buy Iron, Orihalcon, as well as some monster parts that Thirteen planned to use to arm his Hunting Party.
The raw materials already cost him 20,000 Silver Coins. Yet the actual hammer which would be used for smithing was priced at 50,000 Silver Coins.
‘This Adamantine Hammer sure is expensive,’ Thirteen thought as he glanced at the hammer that was lying in the wagon behind him.
He had tried to bargain with the Blacksmith whom he purchased it from, but the man was as stubborn as a Dwarf, so he had no choice but to buy it at a fixed price.
Thirteen’s wealth was over 150,000 Silver Coins in the past.
But after buying slaves, raw metals, monster parts, and smithing hammer, plus paying for the rent of the Warehouse, his money dropped to 62,000 Silver Coins.
It was still considered a lot of money, but he doubted that it would be enough to bid for the Five Leaf Cover, which he needed to pass his second trial.
“One step at a time,” Thirteen muttered. “Just focus on what is in front of you right now, Thirteen.”
If he wanted to survive in Solterra, he had to use all the resources available to him.
After storing the wagons inside the warehouse, he ate a light dinner and slept peacefully.
——————————
The next day…
“Make sure that you do it right, O1,” Thirteen ordered. “If you make a mistake, you’re not going to have lunch.”
The Ogre groaned as it held the Adamantine hammer in its right hand and an Orichalcum Chisel in its left.
It then worked to engrave the symbol that Thirteen had drawn on the anvil carefully.
Thirteen didn’t ask for anything complicated. All the Ogre needed to do was to follow the lines of the drawing, and lightly hit the chisel twice before moving to the next spot.
The Ogre was basically just playing connect the dots, which Thirteen had made for it, but with a chisel and a hammer.
Simply put, even if the Ogre was all brawn and no brain, it would still be able to do what Thirteen had asked it to.
The boy had asked the Trolls to prevent anyone from coming to his workshop because he would start to use Rune Magic to imbue the Anvil and Forge with a special ability that would allow him to increase the chances of succeeding in his craft.
He had also bought dozens of Beast Cores for this task, not even batting an eye when he made his purchase.
It took Thirteen half a day to finish his preparations in his workshop.
Fortunately, he didn’t encounter any hiccups. To celebrate, he made sure to feed his subordinates with a lot of meat, which they liked very much.
Cristopher finally came out of his room in the afternoon to look for his Young Master.
Seeing his reddened eyes and the dark circles under them, he knew that the boy had his first taste of loss in Solterra.
“Young Master, I’m sorry, and thank you,” Cristopher said as he knelt on the floor. “If you didn’t stop me in time, I might have summoned Brutus and Bruno, endangering all of us in the process.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Thirteen replied. “None of us could have expected that we would encounter that kind of monster on our first expedition. It was simply outside of our control.”
Cristopher nodded, but Thirteen was certain that he was still hurting inside.
‘Fortunately, he hadn’t spent a long time with those Ogres yet,’ Thirteen thought. ‘If his attachment to them was already too deep when the incident happened, he might have suffered a crippling heartbreak, making him unable to function for more than a week.’
After making Cristopher stand up, the seven-year-old took the chubby boy to his workshop.
“W-Wow! You bought so many slaves, Master,” Cristopher stuttered after seeing the 10 Trolls and 2 Ogres who were currently lifting heavy crates filled to the brim with raw metals and monster parts.
“I decided to increase our manpower to ensure our survival in the Warsor Plains,” Thirteen stated. “But I was also waiting for you, Cristopher.”
“Waiting for me?”
“Yes. I will need your help in order to create the best hunting party in the Sumatran Kingdom.”
Cristopher’s face became serious. “What kind of help do you need, Young Master? As long as I can do it, I will do everything in my power to help.”
“Good,” Thirteen said as he lightly patted the chubby boy’s waist. “I knew that I could count on you.”
What Cristopher didn’t know was that the “help” Thirteen needed wasn’t anything serious. It was simply manual labor.
However, it was a kind of manual labor that would not only train Cristopher to become stronger but would also train Brutus and Bruno to perform other tasks aside from fighting the Warsor Plains’ Monsters, which they would inevitably face after the Auction in Gronar City was over.