●— Are you okay? —

— Durman — Tsk… this thing is broken. It’s absorbed too much goal mana and I’m feeling dizzy. Plus, I can’t read it. I’ll tell Dalia to fix it. —

His tone sounded normal, but there was something in his expression that didn’t quite fit. Durman looked at me differently, as if trying to gauge something he didn’t understand. Then, with a brusque gesture, he stood up and straightened.

— Durman — Anyway, stop asking questions and clean up, kid! — He threw a rag at me without warning.

— Durman — I’m going to... uh... the bathroom. I didn’t expect a reply. He just left in a hurry.

I stood in the workshop, watching him disappear through the door.

(Okay. Where did it start?)

==+-+-+-+==

Durman entered the kitchen, frowning and breathing heavily. Astrid was organizing the dishes for dinner with the maids when her husband gently took her arm.

— Durman — Come with me. —

Astrid glanced at him. It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

— Astrid — Don’t you see I’m busy? —

—Sleep—Now. —His tone was tense, almost trembling.

Astrid narrowed her eyes. It wasn’t easy seeing Durman like that. Without saying anything, she put down her dishes and followed him. They went upstairs and entered their master bedroom. Durman closed the door firmly and leaned against it, as if afraid someone might hear them.

—Durman—…Astrid. We have a problem. —

She crossed her arms and watched him silently, waiting for him to continue. Durman removed his analysis glasses and held them in his hand. The lenses were cracked, the etched runes had lost their shine, and traces of mana residue were still visible.

— Durman — They broke when I looked at Neo. —

— Astrid — And what did you see? — She said, remaining calm.

Durman swallowed.

— Durman — Level 100. 690 hit points. 500 mana. Job: Tolmas Envoy. —

The silence became unbearable. Astrid, without changing her expression, sat on the edge of the bed and rested an elbow on her knee, her hand on her chin, her gaze on the floor.

— Astrid — That’s impossible. —

— Durman — I know. —

— Astrid — There were only seven Envoys of Tolmas. And that was over 750 years ago. —

— Durman — The glasses couldn’t analyze it any further. They only showed errors and then exploded. —

— Astrid — …Then we don’t know what else he can do. —

Durman moved forward slowly. Silence fell again in the room. Astrid closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, her gaze was as sharp as a newly forged sword.

— Astrid — We won’t say anything. —

Durman looked at her in surprise.

— Durman — What? —

— Astrid — If an Envoy from Tolmas has come to our house, it is for a reason. —

— Durman — But, Astrid! I called him a lad! —

Durman clutched his head in both hands, pacing in circles around the room.

—Durman—Zagal, Astrid. I, a simple blacksmith, looking down on an Envoy of Tolmas. —

Astrid looked at him sternly, placing her right hand on his face to reassure him.

— Astrid — And he will continue to be a lad, as long as he doesn’t say otherwise. —

Durman felt a chill run down his spine. Astrid wasn’t scared. She wasn’t in shock. She was accepting the situation with the same firmness with which she handled everything in her life.

— Astrid — He didn’t come as a messenger. He didn’t bring judgment or warnings. He’s just a talented young blacksmith. Until he says otherwise, we’ll treat him the same as before. —

Durman took a deep breath, but Astrid wasn’t finished yet.

— Astrid — The spare glasses? —

Durman blinked several times in surprise.

— Durman — What glasses? —

— Astrid — The ones in your office, at the blacksmiths’ guild. The authentic ones, remember this one is an imitation Dalia made.

— Astrid — I’ll go check it out myself tomorrow. If that boy is really what he says, I’ll see for myself. —

Durman gritted his teeth. The idea of ​​Astrid wanting to check Neo’s stats for herself didn’t appeal to him, but he couldn’t refuse.

— Durman — …Okay. —

Astrid looked him straight in the eyes.

— Astrid — If you fear what he might become, then guide him. Make him your disciple before someone with evil intentions manipulates him and turns him into a threat to humanity. —

Durman frowned, but had no way to refute it.

— Astrid — You’ve taken dozens of kids off the streets by teaching them your trade. You can do the same with this boy. —

Durman looked down. The idea of ​​training Neo had already crossed his mind, but now, hearing it from Astrid made it inevitable. With a gentle gesture, Astrid smoothed his wrinkled shirt. Then, without another word, she gave him a brief but firm kiss.

— Astrid — Let’s go, dinner is waiting for us. —

Durman let out a long sigh and followed her silently, burdened by a secret he couldn’t share with anyone else.

==+-+-+-+==

Durman arrived at the workshop, and I found myself sitting at the workbench, reviewing some sword plans I’d found among the papers. The man stood in the doorway, looking around with a frown.

—Durman—…Zagal.

His voice had a strange tone, as if he was trying to sound normal, but he was laced with a nervousness he hadn’t shown before.

— Durman — Come, dinner is ready! —

I turned to him. I didn’t miss the way he looked around the workshop, scanning every corner with a mixture of disbelief and surprise. As we walked through the halls, Durman clicked his tongue and crossed his arms.

— Durman — You did a good job cleaning. —

●— I like to keep my workspace tidy. —I smiled slightly.

Durman just snorted, not responding. When I reached the dining room, I saw that only Astrid and Dalia were at the table, sitting quietly. I paused for a second before sitting down.

●— And the others? —

— Durman — Servants eat in the kitchen, after the family has eaten… or before, depending on the situation. I don’t care, as long as they do their job well. —

I didn’t say anything else and sat down. Dinner began peacefully, until I recorded something.

●— By the way, Durman, what happened to those glasses you wore in the workshop? —

Silence fell immediately. Durman clamped his jaw, and Astrid, without missing a beat, kicked him under the table. The man winced in pain, but quickly responded.

— Durman — I dropped them the other day… and I forgot about them. — She pretended to be casual, but her tone was forced.

— Durman — Dalia, when you have time, take a look at them and fix them.

Dalia approached without much emotion. My attention shifted to her.

●— Miss Dalia, do you know how to work with runes? —

— Dalia — Yes. —

I leaned forward a little, interested.

●— And how about carvings in materials like glass? —

Dalia raised an eyebrow, surprised by my interest. I guess it’s not normal for them to ask about the technical side of her job.

— Dalia — It depends on the material and the purpose of the artifact. Some runes are engraved with heat, others with extreme precision. If you make a mistake on a line, the result can be catastrophic.

We spent a good time talking about how runes work and some magical or runic artifacts as she calls them, secret techniques of how they carve runes, we talked about specific and very rare runes...

— Astrid — They make a good couple, don’t you think, Durman? —

Durman choked on his food and looked at me sideways with a look of pure panic. I remained silent, enjoying my meal as if I hadn’t heard anything.

— Dalia — Aunt Astrid, don’t you talk nonsense too! —

— Astrid — It’s no nonsense. You both have an interest in runes and metal. Dalia has never shown interest in anyone, but with him you seem to have something to talk about. —

— Dalia — Enough! — She slammed her fork down on the table.

— Dalia — Yes, I know I’m old enough to get married, but I’m not going to marry the first blacksmith I see on the street. — She turned her head toward me with an expression somewhere between annoyance and resignation.

— Dalia — No offense. —

I calmly raised my hand, declaring that I was indifferent to his comment. I had no interest in butting in where my business doesn’t concern me. The only thing that really mattered to me at that moment was the food. (This is a thousand times better than the inn.) I can’t help but ask the question.

●— Could you teach me this recipe? It’s very good, if I could, it would justify repeating it. —

Durman burst out laughing.

— Durman — Whatever you want, lad! —

I paused for a second, my gaze fixed on the kitchen door.

(And the servants? Will they be able to eat this food too? The idea made me uncomfortable, it would be very ugly if I repeat it several times and the servants won’t be able to enjoy this good food)

I leaned back in my chair and shook my head.

●— Sorry, this is so good that I can only think about repeating it, but I’m full. —

Astrid looked at me curiously, but didn’t say anything. Dalia finished her dinner hastily and stood up.

— Dalia — I’m going to the workshop. —

— Astrid — Is it almost midnight? —

— Dalia — I want to fix those glasses as soon as possible. —She said as she walked out the door.

Durman snorted, but said nothing.

— Astrid — So you’re staying here tonight, right? —

●— As long as it’s not a nuisance. —

— Durman — You’ll never be a nuisance, after all, she was my future apprentice—

●— Thank you very much. Since the accident, we haven’t met many people, and meeting such kind people like you is very comforting. —

— Durman — Make yourself at home. —

— Astrid — Almost all of my husband’s apprentices stayed over after working all day. —

— Durman — Changing the subject, you know a lot about steels. Where did you learn it? Perhaps it was in your village—

●— I’m sorry, Mr. Durman, for me this is a very recent issue and I don’t want to talk about it — (I was narrowly spared, I feel bad lying to such kind people, but it’s the only way to divert the subject from my origin)

— Astrid — Time heals everything, little by little, we’re not going to force you to talk about the subject —

— Durman — Sorry, that was an inappropriate question.—

●— It’s okay, I’ve noticed that it wasn’t with bad intentions, and if you learn about what happens in my village.—

— Astrid — You seem very excited, talk to Dalia about the runes. Do you want Dalia to teach you? —

●— You actually wanted to ask them if I can see how the runes work? —

Durman raised an eyebrow.

— Durman — If Dalia doesn’t have a problem, I don’t care. —

I calmly got up from the table and followed her.

(Now you can see in detail how others carve runes in crystal...)

It didn’t take long to get to the workshop, but Dalia, like her uncle, had everything ready on her workbench, the tools precisely aligned, the glass lenses ready to be engraved. I watched her closely as she took one of the lenses and placed it on a metal stand.

●— How are you going to carve the runes? —

Dalia stopped in her tracks and gave me a sharp look.

— Dalia — If you’re going to bother me with stupid questions, you better leave. —

I crossed my arms and frowned, but didn’t press the issue. If I’d learned anything in this world, it’s that people take their craft very seriously. So I just watched Dalia work. Dalia began etching the first line of runes onto the magic lens, concentrating on each stroke. But something didn’t add up. (Is this misspelled... or do I just think it is?) The lines weren’t precise, and some lines were poorly connected. I couldn’t tell without comparing them to a reference.

●—I want to try it too—

Dalia became suspicious with annoyance and slid another lens across the table.

—Dalia— Okay, done. Let’s see if you can do better. —

Dalia frowned, clearly annoyed by my tone. But instead of arguing, she picked up another lens and slid it across the table.

●— Can you draw me the runes I have to use? —

Dalia snorted and pulled out a scroll, making a quick sketch of the rune sequence.

(Perfect. Now I can compare them.) I activated the mental interface and opened the document where the runes Hunt and I had collected were stored. I took a photo of Dalia’s runes and overlaid the images, and my suspicion was confirmed.

●— Do you have a reference book? —

Dalia raised an eyebrow.

—Dalia— What for? —

●— I want to check something. —

She eyed me suspiciously, but eventually headed over to a shelf in the corner of the workshop. After a few seconds of rummaging, she pulled out a thick tome and handed it to me.

—Dalia— Here you are. But don’t you dare damage it, this book is worth more than your life. —

I didn’t respond. I opened it and began scanning the pages (It’s going to take me a while to copy all this...) page by page. I had a real runebook in front of me, not some badly written sheets. I quickly realized that many of the runes we knew were misspelled or poorly formed. I corrected the mistakes and analyzed some of the examples in the book. The runic syntax was simple, but complex; there are many references and runes that can be combined to create new runes or commands. I activated my quick thinking to quickly analyze all the syntax and understand the runes again.