The Author's Viewpoint
Chapter 166 - Relics and Secrets

Chapter 166: Chapter 166 - Relics and Secrets

Tave knocked on the smithy’s door, and a voice from within invited him to enter. He glanced over his shoulder and asked Lily to wait outside.

Stepping inside, he was immediately greeted—like always—by the suffocating heat that rolled off the forge and slapped his face. The dwarf was still hard at work at his station, hammering steadily on an anvil.

Tave approached and stood quietly for a moment, giving the blacksmith time to finish what he was doing.

He waited. And waited. No words came at first. Then, at last, Fokil stopped his work and turned toward him.

"So, you’re the one behind all that chaos out there?" Those were the dwarf’s first words.

Tave gave an awkward half-smile, caught off guard by the question. "Well... yes, sir. It was me and my rift team. We got caught inside the emergency rift."

Fokil didn’t reply, just gave a look, as if to say: what do you need?

Without delay, Tave pulled out two relics of his—the sword, clearly in need of repair, and with hope that he could get it upgraded using the materials he’d brought back from the rift.

Sure, relics could recover on their own given enough time, but a blacksmith’s hand was something else entirely.

"I’ve managed to harness the power of this mask, sir. It really helped me survive in the rift," he added.

"And this sword... there’s a Unique-grade spirit bound to it."

Fokil said nothing at first, just reached out and took both items, inspecting them with a practiced eye.

"This sword..." he muttered. "I’m the one who forged it."

"Oh. I didn’t know that. I only got it from my father."

"Well then. Good thing you were able to convert it into a relic."

Tave then pulled out the Monster Soul Stone along with several other materials he knew the blacksmith could put to good use.

"Sir, I need your help with this," he said plainly, knowing well that this dwarf wasn’t one for unnecessary chatter.

He let the dwarf examine the materials while his mind wandered to the thoughts that had been circling since he arrived.

Because... truth be told, even with all the chaos raging outside, with buildings half-destroyed and the city bearing fresh wounds from the monster attacks. This smithy stood untouched. Not a single scratch marred its exterior. It was as if the forge stood outside the disaster itself, like an island of calm in a sea of ruin.

That wasn’t a coincidence. Fokil was no ordinary dwarf. His level was high—very high.

Yes, by now, Fokil should be somewhere in the sixties, a Gaia Archon by rank. Slightly below Elincia in level, but that didn’t make him any less formidable.

His build was full strength. Hardened body, immense resilience, and a defense capable of absorbing massive attacks. Honestly, if he wanted to, Fokil could probably take down a monster like Skarathor on his own.

But... Tave exhaled slowly.

The dwarf simply didn’t care. About anything or anyone outside his own world.

And Tave knew. He knew that when the monsters attacked, Fokil hadn’t lifted a finger to help the city. He’d stayed right here, focused on whatever task was at hand, brushing off any threats that dared to get too close to his forge.

This dwarf really only cared about himself. No, not exactly himself, but more like the true goal that drove him, the real reason he chose to stay in Deadbay City.

Sure, he was incredibly powerful, but for now, the best card Tave could play was Fokil’s unmatched skill as a blacksmith.

If he could offer materials with real value, enough to spark genuine interest, that might be enough to get the dwarf invested in the work.

And maybe, in time, he could offer what this dwarf truly needed, build some kind of working relationship... and eventually convince him to step out of his shell. Maybe even to.... help save Yunatea?

A being with the kind of power Fokil had. It was true, he wasn’t a fighter by profession. He was a blacksmith. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight.

He had a relic of his own. A massive war hammer, something he could summon and hurl at will. It wasn’t so different from that weapon in those old animated comics. Something like Thor’s Mjolnir.

"Do you need these relics back quickly?"

Tave paused for a moment. He knew better than to rush someone like Fokil.

"Sir... demons have broken through from Hell into this area."

Fokil slowly raised his head, eyes half-lidded and glazed with that familiar haze of someone not entirely sober—yet beneath it, Tave could still see the sharp glint of awareness.

"I... need to track them down," Tave added.

"Were those demons the reason your rift escalated into an emergency rift?" Fokil asked.

"Yes, sir. And because of them... half of us managed to escape using the portal they created to pierce through into Yunatea."

Fokil went quiet, as if mulling something over.

Tave could guess what was on his mind—portals that could pierce between dimensions weren’t exactly common knowledge, and a blacksmith like Fokil would certainly be interested in something like that. But right now, Tave didn’t have anything more valuable to offer. And he couldn’t risk revealing anything beyond what he was supposed to know at this point.

"Then come back in two days," the dwarf said at last.

It was the best answer Tave could have hoped for.

Repairing something wasn’t nearly as demanding as crafting it from scratch. Typically, it would still take at least a week to ensure proper optimization. Especially with an upgrade involved. But... if those relics could receive even a touch from a blacksmith of Fokil’s caliber, that alone was worth more than enough.

"Thanks, sir," Tave said, before turning and stepping out of the smithy.

Truthfully, many people avoided commissioning their weapons or armor with someone like Fokil. The dwarf’s temperament and inscrutable nature made him difficult to deal with. But honestly, that worked in Tave’s favor—less competition.

As unpleasant as Fokil’s demeanor could be, deep down, he was simply lonely. What he really needed was someone who truly understood him, someone who could break through the thick wall he’d built around himself. And yes, Tave understood that well enough.

Even if he wasn’t the right person to get close to the man, he knew how to keep things balanced.

At the very least, Tave knew he couldn’t afford to act like someone completely different from who he was now. So far, this level of interaction was enough. As long as he could continue to access Fokil’s blacksmithing services, that was all that mattered.

He walked away from the smithy, Lily falling in step beside him. And honestly? Tave missed his bed more than anything. After months trapped inside the emergency rift. Never able to rest properly, always on edge, always one step from death. He desperately needed real sleep.

He’d go see Vanya tomorrow. They should still have enough time, right? Elincia was in the city now, and that alone brought a sense of safety. After all, Elincia was tasked with protecting Vanya... and by extension, that meant protecting Tave too.

Yes, tonight he’d let himself rest. Truly rest.

The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!