All the air seemed to leave the courtyard. The blacksmiths stopped talking. Tharon almost dropped his hammer. Some apprentices looked at me with a mixture of respect and pity. Dalia blinked, as if her brain had shut down for a second. I, for my part, felt a chill run down my spine.

(But what..?)

A dry sound echoed to the right. I turned to see that Durman’s wife had stepped forward. Until now, she had been watching with her arms crossed, not intervening.

But now… he had a look that could make anyone tremble.

— Astrid — Enough of playing with swords —she said in a hard voice.

Durman turned to her, opening his mouth to say something, but he didn’t get the chance.

— Astrid — Everyone to their homes — without raising her voice, but with unquestionable authority.

— Astrid — If you want to keep hitting metal, come back tomorrow.—

There were no protests. The blacksmiths dispersed as if their lives depended on it. Some apprentices didn’t even say goodbye. Durman turned to his wife, hands on his hips.

— Durman — Astrid Woman, I was just sayin—!

— Dalia —Uncle!—

Dalia, who had remained silent until now, approached with a determined stride. Before Durman could react, she grabbed him by the ear and pulled hard. The man let out a muffled groan.

— Durman —Ugh! Dalia, let me go, damn it!

She didn’t loosen her grip.

— Dalia — You think it’s okay to decide my life in front of half the city, huh?!

Durman tried to get away, but he couldn’t.

— Durman — I was just saying… Damn it, let me go!

The few who hadn’t yet left watched the scene with their eyes wide open. I, on the other hand, just watched in silence. (Where the hell have I been?)

It’s fine that I made a long dagger or a short sword in a few hours, that I outdid blacksmiths with hundreds of thousands of hours of work... That was bad enough. But for the master of the blacksmiths’ guild to consider me worthy of being his niece’s fiancé... I think I’ve gone too far.

— Astrid — You’re not from here, are you? May I see your ID card? —

His tone was not accusatory, but rather curious and analytical.

●— No. I’m from a very remote village. A very secretive village, we had almost no notion of the outside world. Nothing remained of the village after a landslide. Hunt and I were the only survivors, just because we were hunting at the time.

Or that’s the story Hunt and I were going to tell if anyone asked us. The lie came out naturally. It was simple, effective, and hard to prove. Astrid pursed her lips, still staring at my card.

— Astrid — …It must have been tough. And what happened to Hunt? —

●— I don’t know, this morning when I woke up he wasn’t at the inn anymore. We arrived yesterday, I guess he went out to explore the city on his own. —

For a moment, I felt like he really believed me. Then, he looked at me gently and slid the card back to me.

— Astrid — It’s already late. Do you have a place to sleep? The inns are probably closed by now. —

●— It’s okay. I’ll manage. —

Just then, my interface buzzed with an incoming message.

#■— I’m not going home today, I’m staying over with a friend. —#

#●— Don’t do anything that would force me to be an uncle so young… and be a gentleman. —#

#■— I’m not a savage, idiot. —#

Before he could add anything else, Durman burst into the conversation with his booming voice.

— Durman — Bah! You can stay in my niece’s room! Let’s see if I can become a grandfather once and for all! —

— Dalia — “Shut your mouth, old man!” she shouted as she escorted the Herero to the door.

Astrid sighed and glared at her husband.

— Astrid — Don’t pay attention to this brute. We have plenty of rooms. You can sleep in one of the spare rooms if you want. —

I was silent for a moment. It was a good offer. I didn’t know inns closed; I could always open the subdimension door anywhere and go to sleep.

But before I could answer, Durman caught me under the arm and dragged me toward the house.

— Durman — Don’t overthink it, lad! Dinner first. He raised his voice, calling to the servants.

— Durman — Peter, Joan, we have to set the table! Eliza, Heny, light the fire! Today is a day for celebration, I already have an apprentice! —

The servants immediately sprang into action. Astrid and Dalia, without saying a word, headed into the kitchen with Peter and Joan, while Eliza and Heny headed for a storage room.

Durman patted me on the back and gestured for me to follow him.

— Durman — Come on, before dinner, we have to clean up the workshop a bit. —

He left me no choice. I followed him, feeling that my fate in this house was completely out of my control. The workshop was still warm from the forge, and the smell of molten metal lingered in the air. Durman and I silently cleaned or gathered up the tools, putting everything in order before dinner.

— Durman — Well, lad… do you want to be a blacksmith or were you just hanging around? —

I stopped for a second and put a hammer on the workbench.

●— I don’t know. I don’t really dislike it. —

Durman gave a low laugh and shook his head.

— Durman — Don’t tell me that. I did it because I had no other choice. Don’t make me feel like I dragged you into this.

●— No, seriously. I like… machining. —

Durman frowned.

— Durman — What? —

I looked at him for a moment, realizing the word meant nothing to him.

●— I’ll show you someday. —

Durman snorted, but did not insist.

— Durman — And tell me, boy, what were you doing in the city before coming here? —

●— Just exploring. It’s the first city we’ve seen since we arrived in this world. —

Durman paused for a moment and looked at me in disbelief.

— Durman — Are you telling me this is the first city you’ve set foot in? This world? —

I nodded. The man dropped a bag of nails on the table and let out a hearty laugh.

— Durman — Damn, you’re lucky, kid! You come here, you trespass into my workshop, and instead of kicking you out, I let you stay. If it had been any other day, I would have kicked you out right away.

I smiled slightly and continued organizing the tools. Durman, still chuckling to himself, found a pair of glasses with a carving on the lenses hidden among the plans on the design table.

I saw them and my analytical instinct was instantly activated.

●— What are those glasses? —

Durman calmly put them on and spoke as he adjusted the frame on his face.

— Durman — An artifact Dalia copied. It’s supposed to let you see people’s stats. —

==+-+-+-+==

Durman felt his breath catch in his throat.

Numbers and words floated above Neo with overwhelming intensity.

📜 [< Age >]: 29

📜 [< Office >]: Envoy of Tolmas

📜 [< Level >]: 100

📜 [< Life Points (HP) >] : 690

📜 [< Points and Magic (MP) >] : 500

???????

Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error, Error…

The lens of Durman’s glasses suddenly shattered, leaving him with no further readings on Neo. Durman fell flat on his ass. The magical lenses began to vibrate on his face, unable to continue reading Neo’s details. The glasses began to crackle, releasing streams of mana from the runes, as if the amount of information was too much to handle.

Durman quickly took off his glasses and sat up abruptly, staggering as if the ground beneath his feet had disappeared for an instant. He tried to hide it, to breathe deeply, but his chest refused to follow a normal rhythm. His mind was a whirlwind of recent memories: the jokes, the condescension, the casual treatment... He had been laughing at an envoy of Tolmas. His stomach tightened, icy sweat ran down the back of his neck. His hands trembled, and he clenched them into fists to contain his panic. Neo was envious of Tolmas. He thought of Astrid, of Dalia, of what might happen if he had offended such a being. The weight of the revelation crushed him; it was like looking a god in the eye and realizing too late his own insignificance.