Solo Strategy

The young Japanese was dressed only in simple pants, wooden sandals, and a blacksmith's apron on his bare torso. Steam rose from his shoulders, noticeable without any aura. He sat straight, but his gaze was somewhere far away. In his contemplation, he didn't even notice my approach.

Stopping a couple of steps away from Katashi, I barely resisted waving my hand in front of his face—he was so deep in thought. I stood there for about ten seconds, but realizing he wasn't paying any attention to what was happening around him, I couldn't resist greeting him in a way that I knew from the Last Cycle especially annoyed the young blacksmith. Why couldn't I resist? I just wanted to see his reaction and, based on it, understand how he really felt about me. Sometimes, to understand a person's true feelings, you have to provoke them. And this situation seemed suitable for such a provocation. Taking half a step forward, I greeted him with a slightly exaggerated joy in my voice:

"All hail, Kay!"

The Japanese jerked as if slapped, his eyes widened, and his shoulders tensed. He raised his gaze, in which barely suppressed anger seethed, but the moment he recognized me, he relaxed. A very good sign that told me that he, perhaps without realizing it yet, had included me in his small circle of close people. Why? Because he would never have let a stranger get away with such a greeting—I knew well, thanks to memories of the future, how much it infuriated him.

"Hisashiburi, Raven."

"Kay," I said, placing the basket of food on the bench. "Have you already joined the Artifactors' Guild or the Blacksmiths' Guild of Deytran? Because, as far as I've heard, no one else is allowed into the Fire Forge."

"No," the Japanese shook his head and glanced at the Fire Forge gates with a strange expression.

"Then how were you allowed inside?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Well..." he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "I just touched the gates, and they opened." A spark uncharacteristic of the previous Katashi flickered in his eyes. "You can try it yourself—it will let you in as well."

"Me?"

"Yes," the Japanese man nodded confidently. "It turns out these doors will open for anyone with Metal Affinity. You have one, right? You do. So you'll be let in too."

"I didn't know."

Indeed, I didn't; the memory of the future was silent on such a nuance.

"Want to try?" With an unusual expression in his eyes, he nodded towards the gates of the Fire Forge.

Was he teasing me? Katashi, teasing? No way, nonsense. Must've been my imagination.

"I'll pass," I replied. "But actually..." My hand made an indecisive gesture in the air. "What's it like inside?" And I immediately added, perhaps a bit hastily, "I've never been there. Curious."

In this Cycle, indeed, I hadn't.

"Unusual," Katashi shrugged. "All that's from the dwarves are the walls and the forge with its chimney. The chamber is about a quarter of a baseball field in size, and in the center is the forge."

"Is the forge that big, or is it empty around it?" I clarified.

"No, the forge isn't that large. And it isn't empty in there either—people hauled in... all sorts of things. Tables, workbenches, stands. But everything brought by people looks out of place, like something alien. Although... it's all practically arranged. Unusual, but everything has a purpose."

"I really should check it out, but not today." I nodded towards the basket.

"The most unusual thing," the Japanese suddenly continued, "is the fire in the forge. I've never seen anything like it. It's so pure, words can't describe it. And it's alive. No, not truly alive, of course," Katashi quickly corrected himself, "but it feels that way. I can't explain it. You have to experience it. The flame seems to sense the right temperature on its own."

The future god of Labor looked up at me, and I realized he was speaking more to himself, as if capturing his thoughts and feelings.

"Thanks for suggesting I check out that place."

"You're a blacksmith, and that's a forge built by dwarves," I shrugged. "But I'm glad my advice was useful."

Suddenly, Katashi grimaced, although nothing seemed to presage such a change in mood. He turned towards the entrance of the Fire Forge and studied the gates for a while. Then, placing his palms on his knees, he said with a strange anger:

"This is a real wonder. A wonder that sits idle almost half the time."

"Why?" I knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"The cost of running the forge. Did you know it doesn't operate on coal or wood but on the tears of gods? They're crystals mined in the Inverted Towers."

"Tears of gods?" I extended my left hand. "See the two Elemental Rings? That's their core ingredient."

"Only in your rings, they serve as the foundation of the artifact, while in the Fire Forge, they are supposed to be burned. One tear per hour of work. And that's..." He wanted to calculate, but clearly wasn't yet familiar with the local prices.

"The average price of a small 'tear' is five hundred gold," I prompted.

"A kilogram of gold," the Japanese immediately translated into a weight equivalent, "for an hour of work."

"Expensive," I agreed.

"Even in the trade capital of the world," he sighed heavily, "it seems there's not enough money to keep the forge running around the clock."

"Besides, a lot can be done with... more conventional 'tools,'" I said.

"True," the Future God of Labor nodded.

Of course, I suspected that Katashi would soon appear in Deytran, but seeing him today was a real surprise. I hadn't prepared for this conversation and was now hastily calculating possible dialogue scenarios.

"Planning to celebrate?" the Japanese unexpectedly asked, glancing at my basket, his nostrils flaring slightly as if drawn by the smell of food.

"Celebrate what?" I asked, puzzled.

"The anniversary." The smith grimaced, then added, "Today marks the hundredth day since we were brought to this world."

The hundredth day? I hadn't kept a precise count, only rough estimates, so perhaps he was right. Or rather, given Katashi's attention to detail, he was almost certainly right.

"No," I shook my head. "Just felt like making a meat goulash with vegetables." Judging by his reaction, he was so engrossed in the Fire Forge that he likely forgot to eat today.

"Can you cook such complex dishes?" his question seemed a bit out of place.

"I did tell you I was an athlete on Earth," I smiled. "Dorm life, trips where you can't eat just anything, and cafes and restaurants are off-limits. So, you end up learning to cook if you don't want to live on a very healthy but utterly tasteless diet. Besides, goulash isn't complicated at all," and, winking, I added, "the secret's all in the gravy."

Katashi clearly wanted to ask something, but seemed to consider his curiosity "impolite" and stayed silent.

"So, you went into the Forge, and they let you work at the hearth right away?" I asked, breaking the brief silence.

"Of course not." He gave me a strange look, as if I didn't understand anything. "Who would let a newcomer near the Fire? But they did find me a job." And apparently, there was a lot of it, because even this iron man looked a bit worn out.

"Where are you staying?" I asked.

"The 'Weary Coachman,'" said the Future God of Labor, then explained, "an inn beyond the eastern wall."

"I rented a house in one of the inner quarters," I said as if it were something insignificant. "So, if you want to celebrate your hundredth day in Ain, you're welcome to visit."

"I still have some things to finish," the Japanese nodded towards the Fire Forge's door. "It'll take an hour, or an hour and a half."

"An hour and a half? Just enough time for the goulash to be ready." I licked my lips a bit theatrically.

Knowing his personality and that Katashi didn't like to "impose," it was best to preempt his response. So, picking up my basket again, I quickly said before he could reply:

"The 'Kindhearted Profit' insula, merchant Latapir's house. I'd be glad to see you. I won't hold you up now—you still have work left. So, this isn't goodbye."

Waving, I turned my back to him and quickly crossed Wootz Square, turning into the first alley leading north. With Katashi, the key was not to impose or pressure him, so I hoped I had done everything right. I showed interest in continuing our interaction, tempted him with delicious food, but didn't push or demand an immediate answer. But even if I made a mistake and Kay ignored my invitation, I would just find him at the same spot tomorrow. I was sure that for at least another week, the Japanese would keep coming to the Fire Forge like it was his job.

On my way home, I bought a bundle of birch firewood, a small hatchet that would definitely come in handy, and a kitchen knife, because cutting vegetables with the Lightning Dagger or the First Feather seemed wrong. Then, I stopped by another shop and added to my purchases a frying pan and a pot significantly larger than my camping one. And then, already in the doorway, I stopped, went back, and picked up two ceramic mugs.

After unlocking the door, I first checked the state of the signal spells, then went to the inner courtyard and unloaded my purchases. Before starting to prepare dinner, I drew the First Feather and placed it on the table.

"Today was unusual. Imagine, on the way back, returning with groceries from training, I met your creator. But let me tell you in order..."

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Preparing goulash over an open fire turned out to be a bit more complicated than I had anticipated. Besides, I also needed to fry the vegetables on the coals and then cook the rice. So, instead of the hour I had allocated for cooking, I spent nearly two. And if it weren't for the household magic that allowed me to precisely control the hearth's temperature, it would have likely taken even longer.

While cooking, I not only told the First Feather about my day but also unloaded onto the blade all my doubts about what I was supposed to do next. Even though the unfinished sword, of course, said nothing in response, I still felt a bit lighter, and my thoughts gained certain clarity and order.

The sun had set behind the city walls, and I had almost decided that Katashi would ignore my invitation when there was a knock at the front door.

Rinsing my hands, I went to open it. To my delight, which I naturally tried to conceal, it was not the insula's elder or a neighbor but the Future God of Labor. He had managed to change and tidy up, now looking like an ordinary citizen from the artisan quarter. The only thing disrupting his appearance was the guest badge of the Opal Step.

"Come in," I greeted him with a smile, stepping aside to clear the doorway.

As he crossed the threshold, Katashi bowed slightly and handed me a small woven box with both hands.

"Еsumaranai mono desu ga," he said, then quickly switched to Common, "It's a trifle, but please accept it."

Taking the gift, I caught a rich tea aroma emanating from the box. As far as I remembered, in Japan, it wasn't customary to open gifts immediately, even insignificant ones, so I gestured for Katashi to follow me, keeping the box in hand.

"As you can see, the ground floor is empty," I began, knowing that he was unlikely to start the conversation himself out of shyness. "It used to be a tool storage. I haven't decided what to do with this space yet since I just moved in yesterday. Upstairs, there are three bedrooms and an office. The house is, of course, too big for one person, but it was offered at a very good price, and I couldn't resist. And this is the courtyard; as you can see, it's quite large, suitable for training. You can wash up at the fountain."

It felt a bit strange to tell Katashi about this house, as in the Last Cycle, he had rented it, and I later took it over from him when he moved to the Smiths' Quarter.

"Have a seat," I nodded to a free chair and, observing etiquette, carefully placed his gift on the edge of the table. "I've never been to the Land of the Rising Sun," I allowed him to see my slightly guilty smile, "so I'm not familiar with your country's customs. I apologize in advance if I do anything wrong."

My politeness made Katashi wary, and I realized I had overdone it. Placing a deep plate in front of the guest, I first scooped in some rice. Then I added a generous portion of goulash on top and poured thick gravy over it, finishing with grilled vegetables around the edges. After that, I repeated the same for my own plate and poured a slightly tart berry drink into our mugs. Sitting down opposite the Japanese, I raised my mug in a symbolic gesture:

"To us still being alive."

Katashi was clearly surprised by this "toast," but still nodded in agreement and took a cautious sip.

"I'm hungry, and you probably are too, so let's enjoy dinner first and let all talk wait."

The Future God of Labor had no objections, and as soon as I took my first spoonful, he pulled out chopsticks from a small box on his belt and started eating as well.

Despite the lack of spices, I did a decent job with the goulash. The meat was so tender it could be crushed with a spoon. The sauce was juicy and thick, exuding an amazing aroma of herbs. The rice was perfectly cooked, and the vegetables were nicely smoked over the coals. All of this was complemented by the slightly tangy taste of the berry drink. Certainly not Michelin stars, but, apparently thanks to the quality of the ingredients, it turned out even tastier than anything I had ever cooked on Earth.

"What do you think of Deytran?" I asked once our plates were empty and the Japanese had expressed his formal thanks.

"A beautiful, clean city."

'Clean' meant he liked it.

"But I hardly explored it since I arrived early this morning."

"And went straight to the Fire Forge," I chuckled. "Are you really that passionate about your profession?"

Of course, I already knew the answer.

"I was curious to verify your story."

Interestingly, in the Last Cycle, he rarely spoke more than two words to me, but now he seemed different, looking at me not as a clumsy fool but as someone worthy of conversation.

"Let's exchange stories about what happened since we last met. I can start first." After waiting for a hesitant nod from the Japanese, I refilled my mug with the berry drink and began. "As you remember, I was planning to return to Katiyer..."

Naturally, I didn't tell Katashi everything. Many details, such as the search for Shadow altars, conversations with Wayne, Joanna, the Man of a Thousand Faces, and much more, were left out. I justified my journey to the Great Swamps by claiming to be searching for the Earth Ring, which I had supposedly learned about by chance. Overall, I emphasized the time spent in the Ainuminati. No, I didn't want Katashi to join that guild, knowing he wouldn't get along with Arien for long, but I felt it necessary to leave a positive impression with my story.

The Future God of Labor was particularly interested in Arien's research on Ain's magic and her creation of new spells. And when I showed Katashi the effect of Lightness and explained what this magic did, even his composure cracked. For a moment, it seemed he would interrupt my story and ask me to teach him Lightness, but no, Japanese politeness didn't allow it. Having listened attentively, the smith didn't ask a single question, though I could tell he wanted to clarify a few details. Then, placing his mug in front of him, he began:

"As planned, I first worked on my new armor. I made some changes to its design compared to yours..." Catching my curious look, he explained, "I can't move like you, and besides, I'm used to something different. So, my armor turned out less flexible. Larger plates, greater rigidity. And I didn't have enough avalonium, so I had to compensate with the thickness of the plates. After some thought, I decided against the helmet you suggested and made a more traditional one, adding a visor."

Using illusion magic, he projected the image of a helmet on his palm, reminiscent of classic Japanese designs.

"Then I remembered your stories and visited Vidar's group," the young smith continued. "I helped them with construction, made suitable tools, and learned how they set up the water drive on the sawmill. Edi calculated the parameters for a water hammer I planned to make in my new forge. I spent a couple of weeks there. Then, recalling your tales of Pentapolis, I decided to check out Deytran before returning. I didn't want to spend the money to use Sundbad's Gates, so I walked the entire way from Rur. There's nothing much to say about the journey itself. Just a road like any other. Except, I managed to team up with tunnellers twice and cleared a couple of dungeons with them. This allowed me to rank up and overcome the First Wall. And then... As I mentioned, I arrived at the city this morning and headed straight to see the Fire Forge."

"How do you find Vidar and his group?" I asked, trying not to show my interest too openly.

"Curious people," Katashi replied somewhat vaguely. "Their philosophy is unusual to me. They're genuinely willing to help others without asking for anything in return. However, they only assist those who can benefit and get back on their feet, not just anyone. The village under their management is flourishing, even new houses are being built as people want to settle under the new leadership. When I left, they had already accomplished a lot; the sawmill had started operations and was booked with orders for many weeks ahead."

"And what do you think of Edi?" I smiled.

"Ahem-m-m...," Katashi seemed a bit flustered, not expecting such a direct question. "A very interesting person. I showed her my calculations for the water hammer in the forge I planned, and she found errors in them."

"So, you plan to return soon?" I asked.

"Not sure anymore," the Japanese answered after a brief thought. "What I saw in the Fire Forge made me reconsider my immediate plans a bit."

"That's good," I said, slapping my knees to express my joy. "Because I have a proposal for you."

"I'm listening."

Katashi's wariness was noticeable only in how he slightly leaned back.

"I found out how to gain Affinity with Air and plan to achieve it," I said straightforwardly.

"And for this, you need precisely my help?"

Apparently, he still didn't trust me as much as I thought.

"Only one person can gain the Affinity, the first to achieve a certain result. And I intend to claim it for myself."

Honesty with Katashi was the best policy.

"But to achieve this, I need to make something. It's well-known on Earth, but Ain has no clue about it. I could break down the task into parts and order them from local craftsmen, then assemble the item myself. It's not that hard, though quite tedious. Only, I'm sure whoever makes this thing, once I achieve the result, will gain a significant Achievement, possibly even Adamantium, though more likely Mithril, I'm not sure. Meeting you, I thought, 'Why give this Achievement to a stranger?'"

"Why me?"

"You're the best among the earthling masters I know." How easy it was to speak the truth.

"I won't work for free on the off chance of getting an Achievement," the young blacksmith replied, crossing his arms.

"Of course. And I'm not even sure you'd take on such a task, as it's not exactly your specialty. But still, I think you might have some valuable insights."

"Go on," Katashi said curtly, and I realized I'd piqued his interest.

"Better to show you," I smirked and, leaning over, pulled out Skyros's blueprints, placing them on the table in front of the Japanese.

"This is a hang glider," Captain Obvious, in the guise of the young blacksmith, stated after studying the papers.

"Exactly. And the locals here can't fly. Well, they can, but only on tamed monsters."

"I saw a patrol wyvern with a rider when approaching the city," Katashi nodded.

"Even the best air mages can only hover or levitate, not very high or fast. So, I'm sure the first flight on something like this could earn a significant reward. Moreover, in one of Ishid's temples, I saw a phrase about a sky conqueror who would receive the blessing of Air if they could conquer Kaan's height. After asking the priests, I found out that Kaan is a mountain about a kilometer high."

Here, I had to indulge in some serious lying, but judging by the thoughtful look on the Japanese's face, he believed it.

"Climbing a kilometer on a hang glider, is that even possible?" The Future God of Labor's voice was laced with skepticism.

"Skyros, the one who made these blueprints, said that on Earth, the altitude record is over ten kilometers, and that's without engines. And in this world, there's magic. I've already started learning Wind Sense." Catching the question in the Japanese man's eyes, I explained, "It's an aura that allows you to feel air currents and control them."

"Ten kilometers, huh." The young blacksmith was clearly impressed. "Alright, let's say that's possible. But the hang glider that set such a record was obviously made from advanced materials. Fiberglass, titanium—those are the first things that come to mind. We don't have anything like that here, nor are we likely to."

"But we have something else here," I said, smiling broadly. "For instance, Skywood. This plant resembles earth bamboo. When air magic is applied to it, it becomes nearly weightless, and its strength increases many times over. There's also valirium, which conducts magic almost without loss. I've seen spears with a shaft made of valirium or avalonium, so I think we can make valirium wire and thread it through Skywood. This will ensure lightness, strength, and magical conductivity. As for the wing's sail, we can use Cloud Spider silk. It rivals the best earthly fabrics in strength and weighs almost nothing. According to my preliminary calculations, a hang glider made from such materials would be nearly twice as light as an earthly equivalent."

"Materials are secondary," the Future God of Labor shook his head. "Behind those records is science and calculations done with computers. Wing shape, load distribution, balance. What you showed me," he nodded at the drawings, "are very rough estimates."

"You're right," I didn't argue. "But I don't need to ascend ten kilometers or even five. The height of Kaan Mountain is only a kilometer, and I'll have magic on my side. In short, I'm ready to take the risk."

"What do you need from me?" Katashi asked directly.

"If I find the materials, will you take on making the hang glider? Or at least part of it?"

"There won't be any problem making the valirium wire," the Japanese began listing. "I can work with wood, especially one that resembles bamboo, but to give a precise answer, I need to hold this Skywood in my hands. As for the sail, I've worked with fabrics when making traditional Japanese armor. But that's the most questionable element." He pondered for half a minute, then concluded, "I'll make the frame. I'm not sure about the sail; it needs experimentation. As for attaching one to the other, during my time with Vidar's group, I learned about a glue that perfectly binds fabric to wood..."

"Are you interested in the task itself?" I asked the main question.

"I've never done anything like this before."

"I asked if you're interested," I pressed, needing a direct answer.

"I'm unsure about the outcome," he dodged again, as if wary of taking responsibility, since this was clearly something outside his area of experience.

"I'll take the risks on myself."

I could see in his eyes that he was already thinking about the diameter of the valirium wire and how best to balance the frame according to the blueprints.

"Will you take it on, or should I find local craftsmen?"

"I'll do it," he firmly responded after a minute of thought. "But don't blame me for your death if you crash."

Was that sarcasm, humor, or was he serious?

"Great, then I'll start looking for materials and money to buy them."

"First, we need to make a prototype from simple materials," Katashi reined me in. "I'll check the markets tomorrow and find suitable ones."

"The additional complication is that I need a modular model," I added.

"I'll keep that in mind," the Future God of Labor nodded briefly, studying the blueprints more closely.

"Payment?"

"Upon completion, I'm not ready to name a price yet."

Anyone else with such an answer would have been sent on a very rude long walk, but this was Katashi, and he wouldn't charge more than his work was worth.

"Agreed." Getting up from the table, I extended my open hand.

"No complaints if it fails?" he clarified.

"The risks are on me," I repeated, and our hands met...