Anthesis of Sadness
Chapter 35: She Carries What I Cannot

Chapter 35: She Carries What I Cannot

She then continued her explanation.

— Abyssium Blades, rank B.

She paused again.

— This one is yours, she said calmly.

Rank B... so that was roughly the level I had in this world.

I thought I was stronger, but the guild had just made me realize otherwise.

However, I had only just arrived here.

The road would be long and full of obstacles, but I had no doubt: I would reach the highest peaks of this world.

After all, I didn’t really have another option.

She continued her explanation by detailing the higher ranks:

— Malacite Blades, rank A.

— Nightbearer Blades, rank S.

— Voidentity Blades, rank SS.

She paused for a moment, as if choosing every word carefully.

— And above all that, the guild’s supervisors: The Three Lords of the Blade.

Then she concluded, with a solemn tone.

— Finally, at the very top, there’s the Grand Legate, the supreme leader of the guild.

I took a moment to process this information. It made sense. That’s how the guild ranked its members according to strength. Upon hearing all of this, I wondered where the person I had seen earlier stood. I would ask him when it was time to meet again. After all, he had promised to give me the map upon my return.

To finish, she explained the quest form, giving me the direction to follow and the proof to bring back after eliminating the beast.

I thanked her sincerely. She had really helped me, always with exemplary patience.

A golden receptionist, I thought.

Leaving the guild, I was fairly satisfied. I had achieved several of my goals.

Making good connections, finding a way to live in society again after the hell that had been the tutorial... it wasn’t so bad.

Retracing my steps, I had spotted a weapons shop earlier. That would be our destination.

As we crossed the market, I was once again struck by the abundance of goods. Exotic fruits, smoked meats, spices with enchanting scents... everything seemed to overflow with flavor and color.

I turned to Lysara with a smile.

— Is there something you’d like?

She seemed troubled by my question, as if she didn’t know how to respond.

So I gently clarified:

— What do you want to eat? You get to choose today.

Lost, she looked over the stalls for a few seconds, hesitant, before her gaze stopped on a particular booth. Without a word, she pointed it out with her finger.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I approached the stall, drawn in by the intoxicating smell of grilled meat and the lively atmosphere of the market. Behind his counter blackened by smoke, the vendor — a giant with a braided beard and an apron stained with caramelized juices — greeted me with a carnivorous smile.

— "So, stranger, ready to taste the wildest this land has to offer?"

I exchanged a few words with him, joking about the exaggerated size of the meat chunks hanging from rusted hooks. His raspy laugh echoed through the alley, and he slapped my shoulder before grabbing a massive, still-smoking piece of roasted meat.

— "The pride of the region, my friend! Nothing better for a warrior or a drunkard in need of strength!"

We both left with the region’s star product, according to him:

Gorvak Thigh with Brascroc Flame.

A huge piece of meat, dark and steaming, its blackened skin revealing glowing red striations. The thick juice flowed slowly, soaking the massive bone that served as a handle. Slowly roasted over blazing embers, it was coated in a black honey and ash-berry sauce, giving it a flavor as intense as the beast it came from.

According to the vendor: "A wild feast for those with strong stomachs and steady hearts!"

Looking at the little girl beside me, holding that massive piece of meat in both hands, I couldn’t help but laugh again.

She must really love meat, despite her ever-empty gaze, as if nothing in the world could shake her.

I said with a smile:

— "Well then, what are you waiting for? Dig in!"

My voice was meant to be warm, but she... she didn’t react. Just that strange silence, that frozen gaze... and that enormous Gorvak thigh between her frail fingers.

Then, without a word, she sank her teeth into the meat and began devouring it with an almost unreal voracity. I did the same, tearing off a burning chunk with my teeth as we walked toward the shop.

The first bite released a thick, smoky juice, packed with the powerful flavor of wild game. The meat was firm yet tender, soaked in the flavors of black honey and ash-berries, blending caramelized sweetness with a touch of spicy bitterness. The crispy skin crackled between my teeth, revealing juicy fibers imbued with lingering heat, as if the rage of the Gorvak still lived in every bite.

It was a brutal, wild feast... and absolutely delicious.

I wasn’t disappointed to have spent 5 Krags for those two pieces. The vendor had even given me a 1 Krag discount for buying both.

Another kind person...

A generous merchant, a silent girl enjoying her meal, an exquisite meat shared without ulterior motive...

Was I really on the demon continent?

That thought fascinated me the whole way, oddly contrasting with the dark and merciless lands that surrounded me.

Arriving at the shop, we had already finished our meat.

The interior was spacious, lit by the reddish glow of several active forges. The air pulsed with heavy heat, filled with the scent of heated metal and soot.

I blinked, almost blinded. This kind of place... it was the lair of a world I didn’t yet know. Brutal, rugged, made of metal and fire. And I entered it without armor, just with a name and a silent girl.

At the counter, an imposing creature was waiting for me. Dark skin, marked by glowing red cracks, it looked like living rock, cracked by internal heat. A blacksmith’s apron, scorched by flames, covered its broad chest, while its gnarled, soot-stained hands rested on the scorched wood of the counter.

Beneath thick brows, two fiery eyes glowed, observing me with silent intensity. That thing... I had never seen anything like it before.

And yet, it didn’t scare me. Not really. Maybe because I had seen worse, or maybe because right now... I was the most human monster in the room.

I greeted the creature briefly at the counter, then moved toward the shelves where weapons lay, waiting for their next owners. My gaze stopped on a particular object.

The hammer had a black head, made of rough, matte metal, with dark gray highlights showing here and there. The surface looked slightly uneven, as if it hadn’t been finely finished.

It was a brute’s weapon. A tool without elegance, without finesse, born to smash, not to threaten. And yet... it drew me in. Because it didn’t lie. It didn’t need to.

The weapon was marked with veins of porous volcanic rock, shifting from anthracite gray to deep red, and the texture was slightly uneven to the touch. Small black impurities were visible, like tiny crystals embedded in the metal, adding a touch of brutality to its overall look.

It didn’t seem to be forged from valuable materials.

Measuring around 1.5 meters, with a wide, massive head. Its long handle offered good reach, made of dark, solid wood, carefully polished to provide a firm grip. The whole thing was sturdy, with a relatively simple, solid look, no frills, but well-balanced for powerful blows.

I tried to lift the hammer, but it remained stuck. I grimaced. Was it Thor’s hammer? I wondered, amused by the thought.

Then, stepping back a little, I realized, slightly embarrassed, that despite my high level, I only had 7 strength. My gaze turned to the little girl beside me, who, despite her size, seemed much lighter and more agile than that massive hammer.

It wasn’t just strength. It was... something rooted in her. A raw instinct, an affinity with the weight of the world. Me, I was still a stranger here. Her, she was already surviving in it.

I scratched my head, a little embarrassed.

"Can you lift it, please?" I asked, with an awkward smile.

She lifted the handle in one swift motion, as if she were picking up a stick, catching my attention.

— Ahahaha, damn fantasy world, I murmured, an amused smile on my lips.

I approached the counter, where the blacksmith was still busy adjusting a tool with a hammer. I had greeted him earlier, and he gave me a distracted glance before setting his work down to listen.

— Excuse me, I said. Can you tell me what this hammer is made of?

He stretched and crossed his arms, glancing at the object in question before replying in a somewhat raspy tone.

— Ombrefer and Cendrite, kid. He raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing me. You know what that is, right?

I nodded, but I didn’t.

— Not exactly. So, for the price, how much do you want?

The blacksmith straightened a bit more, a smirk on his face. He knew newcomers always struggled a bit with these deals.

— 4 Drek, he simply replied, his gaze watching my movements.

I glanced quickly at my purse: 8 Drek and 9 Krag left. It wasn’t a huge sum, but enough to negotiate.

— 3 Drek and I’ll take it, I said calmly but firmly.

He raised an eyebrow, lips pinching slightly.

— 3 Drek? He shook his head. That’s not going to cut it, my friend. I could let it go for 3 Drek and 5 Krag, and then it’s yours.

I paused, analyzing the situation. But in reality, there was nothing to analyze. I had no idea of the actual value of money here, nor whether the price was fair or not. I could very well be getting scammed, and I wouldn’t even realize it. So instead of lingering on that, I decided to accept it. After all, I didn’t really have another choice.

— Deal, I replied, handing him the agreed amount.

He smiled broadly and handed me the hammer, giving me a wink.

— You’re a good negotiator, kid. Enjoy it.

Ah, that bastard, I thought, a slight annoyance rising in me. He had probably ripped me off, but I didn’t really have a choice. I didn’t have enough experience to know if the price was fair or not. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on details like that.

I didn’t have the eye of a merchant. Nor that of a thief. Just that of someone who wanted to gear up without getting fleeced. And in this world, that was already a challenge in itself.