Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite]

“Well, here goes…” Lone mumbled as he closed his eyes and filled his mind with thoughts of gold.

He was trying to create a simple gold coin. Just one, not a full pouch or anything. He had some slight concerns over how he could affect the global economy but honestly, strength seemed more important on this planet than wealth did.

The king and all of the dukes of this kingdom were SS-rankers, after all. The nobles? All families built on a foundation of A or B-rankers. Business was an afterthought.

Hell, even the guild. While they seemed to put a focus on character, strength was also incredibly well-valued there as proven by the guildmaster also being an SS-ranker.

Besides, he had little love for this country and while adventuring could get them some money, knowing he could make any whenever he so wished was far too mesmerising to just ignore.

The image in his mind of the golden coins grow firmer and while his knowledge of the materials and forging process was limited, it wasn’t completely bare after having had his first lesson with Grimsley.

Before long, Lone felt the MP being drained to fuel his Creation Magic.

Many such items exist on Altros.

The host has A little bit of understanding for the item and its creation. 750 base MP cost. 2,250 additional MP has been consumed to compensate for the lack of the host's knowledge.

And just like that, Lone and Soph’s finances had more than tripled.

“Didn’t know the guild issued these… I did hear it’s a continental-wide currency though. Does that mean these coins can be used literally everywhere in the world? Probably not. They're probably only usable in places that host the guild. Still handy though,” Lone though aloud.

He then cracked his neck and grinned. Since it had only cost 3,000 MP, he felt it would be downright criminal to not use up the rest of his reserves on bulking up their coin purse a bit.

Lone entered Grimsley's smithy as he yawned lightly. Soph happily squeezed his hand to help wake him up. She was far more alert than he was, that was for sure.

'That fourth coin was a mistake. I have a splitting headache now as a result,' Lone complained internally. ‘I wonder if there’s a Greed Resistance skill? I could certainly use one…’

As if to show him that he hadn't overused his mana in vain, a notification filled his vision.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Mental Pain Resistance] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 9.

"Ha-ah... Of course it only levels up after I've woken up and feel like shit after the fact," Lone grumbled. “Couldn’t have gained two more levels while it was at it, huh?”

The gruff voice that could have only belonged to Grimsley asked, "What ya mumblin' 'boot at ma smithy's doorstep, eh, laddie?" in a slightly annoyed tone.

Lone smiled wryly. "Sorry, I had a bad night's sle-" Lone stopped talking the second he caught sight of his short blacksmithing master.

Today, the red-haired man was wearing his locks in a rough ponytail, and his eyes were covered by a very thin and fancy looking pair of glasses that had bronze legs and some cogs near their joints.

"What... what are those?" Lone asked with a slight tremble of excitement in his voice. 'Please, please, please don't just be ornamental.'

"These?" Grimsley took the glasses off and shook them about a bit before he put them back on. "Steamforg'd glasses. Ah got 'em at the last hoose gatherin' five years ago fae ma grandpa. The sappy git's ah master steamforg'r. Nae the best in the field, naw, ‘at title belongs tae anoother. Anyhoo, the old cunt always hands out bits an' bobs like these when the hoose gets together. Why? Nev'r seen ah pair o’ glasses afore? Or 'ave ya just nev'r 'eard of steamforgin'? Both're equally daft, so be 'onest with me, laddie."

Lone grinned lightly. "Caught me red-handed. I've never heard of steamforging before. What even is that? Some sort of dwarven craft? It sounds fascinating."

Grimsley gave Lone a very contemptuous look before he simply sighed. "Well, come on in. Ah'll nae speak tae ya when yer stood in the fookin' doorway like a lemon oot in tha sun."

"Ah, right, of course," Lone replied as he and Soph closed the door and found seats - Lone by the forge, and Soph next to the wall.

Soph curled up and closed her eyes. As much as she wanted to be interested in the same things as him, blacksmithing was sadly of no interest to her.

She had fallen asleep yesterday halfway through Lone's lesson, so today, on his advice, she had decided to just get a few extra hours of sleep instead of forcing herself to pay attention.

Grimsley cracked his neck as he reached into a box next to the forge and pulled out a lump of deep-grey - almost black - metal and showed it to Lone.

"Ah told ya plenty aboot metals yesterday, so tahday, ah'll be showin' ya how tae turn this shitey lump ah iron intae ah dagger. Process is simple enough, aye, but just watch me then try it yerself. Learnin' fae doin' is far easier than learnin' fae just watchin'. ‘At rings true in my experiences, at least," the Stone Dwarf claimed as he touched the rim of his glasses with one hand, making a second set of lens pop out and slide in front of the first.

After that, he grabbed the chunk of wrought iron with a pair of tongs and then flipped a switch on the forge, making it light up.

Once it was hot enough, he placed the iron and the tongs over the roaring flames and patiently waited while the metal started to heat up.

Lone had to hold himself back from asking several questions upon witnessing all of this. 'Wow. Those glasses have a second lens? Where the fuck'd it come from? Is that what steamforging does? That wasn't natural. The forge too. How'd it get lit? There's no way that switch is connected to anything electrical, right? More steamforging? It's still creating tonnes of smoke, so maybe the device can only light and turn off the forge?'

“That won’t be a health risk to her, will it?” Lone asked in concern as he gestured to the snoozing Soph.

Grimsley shook his head dismissively. “Nah, all fumes go up’n’oot. Air in ‘ere is well ventilated. ‘As tae be or ah’d be riskin’ ma own ‘ealth. Perks ah usin’ steamforg’d tools, eh?”

“That’s a relief,” Lone replied.

Needless to say, He was only growing more and more heavily interested in steamforging. He had always liked steampunk stuff, and while this wasn't exactly the same thing, it was damned near close.

He kept the topic of steamforging in the back of his mind as he focused whole-heartedly on the smithing taking place before his very own eyes.

Lone was amazed at how quickly and expertly Grimsley was crafting the practice dagger blade. 'Traditionally, it took days to make swords, right? Granted, this is a dagger, but come on, he's already attached the hilt and put an engraving on it! Is it the effect of the Blacksmithing skill? It must be. There's no way he just made a perfect dagger in two and a half hours.'

Grimsley wiped the sweat from his brow as a toothy grin filled his face. "S'been ah while since ah last put so much effort intae somethin’ so simple. 'Ere, ye can 'ave this. Use it as ah reference. Now, try tae forge yer own."

Lone carefully took the dagger and held it up to his eyes to read the engraving.

'Tae ma first apprentice, dinnae fookin' lose it!'

'He wrote in his accent...' Lone grinned. 'So I'm his first apprentice, huh?' he noticed as he tucked the weapon under his belt.

He'd put it in his Dimensional Storage later, but for now, it could sit there snugly by his hip.

After that, Lone got his own chunk of wrought iron and carefully began to replicate the process of forging it into a dagger's blade.

Well, he tried his best but honestly, even with his Growth Accelerator, Lone didn’t expect to nail it on his first attempt.

As predicted, the initial lump of iron ended up melting and became nothing more than a wasted effort.

Grimsley didn't say any words of disappointment and simply kept his arms crossed.

He did, after some time, scratch his head and say, "'Appens tae everyone. It's nae the easiest thing in the world tae judge when the iron's hot enough tae be pound'd intae ah blade, so dinnae fret over it. Grab anoth'r hunk ah iron an' restart. We've got enough time left fae one more try tahday."

Lone appreciated the dwarf's kind words, but he was slightly distracted by a notification.

The host has developed the passive skill: Blacksmithing.

Passive Skill: Blacksmithing A skill that allows the host to craft with metal 5% faster and 5% more skilfully. Cost:N/A Mastery:Beginner Level 1

'So it does give a speed boost, as suspected. In fact, it's exactly like the Woodworking and Masonry skills, just for metal, instead,’ Lone thought.

Lone reached for his second chunk of wrought iron but his mind was still unfocused.

‘I wonder if there's a Metalworking skill to help with harvesting ores too? Maybe Mining Mastery? Ore Collection? I don't wanna look like an idiot, so I won't ask, but I should go spelunking at some point to find out...' Lone decided.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Blacksmithing] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 2.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Blacksmithing] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 3.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Blacksmithing] has levelled up! It is now Beginner Level 4.

Grimsley held the shoddy looking dagger blade up to his face as he inspected it thoroughly. "Rough. Blunt'r than ma bawsack, in truth. Weight'd on the end an' the left side of the centre. Curv'd tip. Dented. All in all, shite smeltin', shite hammerin', shite coolin'. Ah piece ah shite fae top tae bottom, but fer yer second try? It's ah fookin' masterpiece, laddie."

Lone smiled as he took the crummy scrap of metal that vaguely resembled a dagger back from his blacksmithing master. "Thanks. I promise the next one'll be at least three times better tomorrow."

"Ah'm nae made ah iron, so aye, it fookin' better be. Results or I'll give you the long side of ma boot up yer fookin' arse. Anyhoo, it's noon. Wake up yer wee missy and get tae fook. Ah've work tae dae," Grimsley grunted as he tried to hide the prideful smile that was creeping out from underneath his bushy beard.

Lone pretended not to notice that as he gently shook Soph awake and left the store, happy with his progress in the craft.

Grimsley let the forge’s die down and he then slumped into his chair after the two of his guests had left.

Lone was a true talent, of that, he couldn’t deny. It was more than a little odd that he had a human woman following him around. Especially one with such good looks that seemed perfectly comfortable in a demis workshop.

Sleeping on his sofa through the sounds of them forging daggers? The thought made Grimsley chuckle. “She’s a tough one. Rare tae see decent ‘umans like ‘er sort.”

He glanced at his empty ale barrel and sighed. "Ah really wish ah had some fookin' ‘omebrew ale... Ah'm nae sure if anythin' else can distract me, Shana."

He hunched over and clenched his hands together tightly. "Was ah in the wrong? Maybe accepting an apprentice wasnae the wisest ah choices right now... 'E's got talent, aye, but involving 'im with me's only gonnae drag 'im intae ma mess... Damn it! If only 'e hadnae shoved that fookin' gold coin in ma face..."

Grimsley laughed dryly as some new wrinkles made themselves known on his brow. "Ol’ Mother Stone, wouldn't mind sendin' me some help, would ye? Ah'm up shite creek an’ ma paddle's naewhere tae be fookin' foond..."