[Farmer] Mage 2 - Chapter 55

“I feel some regret,” Cal muttered as the trees fell one after another.

“I can order them to stop if you want, Apprentice Cal. We just started, so there won’t be much damage to recover,” Torin said.

Cal shook his head. While he didn’t like the sight of the trees disappearing, building what he wanted in the other spot Miren mentioned would be far more inconvenient. A bit of queasiness as the trees were cleared had to be tolerated.

“Well, there’s no point in watching this. You said it will be done in a few days.” Cal paused until Torin nodded. “Perfect. And let me know when you’re ready to start on the library.”

“Of course, Apprentice Cal,” Torin said, heading toward the workers to keep a closer eye on them.

Cal had one last thing to do before leaving the farm to find buyers for his rare-rank tools. He picked one of each material from the sinkhole out of the storage room, and Tavia had already lent him the Dragonite Scale last night, so he had everything needed for the rare-rank upgrade.

I hope Orrin knows something about these.

His ears perked at the faint ring of a hammer striking metal. He knew Orrin had gotten up early, but he hadn’t expected him to be hard at work already. A testament to how well the sound-dampening worked.

Cal pushed the double doors open, and warm, metal-scented air washed over him. The separation between the shaded area and the open court where the hearth lay still muffled the sound of Orrin working beyond, but it was now unmistakable.

The amenities in the covered half of the smithy were a stark contrast to what Orrin had worked with in Mariner’s Rest. Cal hoped that convenience would let him be more efficient and happier at the forge. He knew from farm work how small annoyances stacked into frustration that soured a craft.

I wonder how long the place will look pristine. I’ll give it a few weeks before soot and show.

Cal opened the door to the hearth and squinted as stinging smoke hit his eyes. The automatic blowers kept the fire steady, letting Orrin work with flames far more consistent than the old workshop ever managed. The cost of adding this feature—and the chunk of the budget it took—was more than worth it.

He didn’t interrupt, waiting for Orrin to finish shaping the metal. He did it out of courtesy, and the memory of how it felt to be yanked out of his own rhythm while farming.

Cal closed the door gently—though Orrin probably wouldn’t notice even if he slammed it, not over the deafening collision of hammer on metal. He watched the piece take form, wondering what he was trying to make. Seconds stretched into minutes, then nearly thirty, before the shape finally resolved into something he could recognize.

I should have known. A bow. Cal laughed and shook his head. It really was adorable how close Orrin and Seris were.

Orrin finished a few minutes later and set the red-hot piece on an open stone table. Cal half-expected a quench, but he wasn’t the blacksmith—and maybe this metal needed something else.

“Apprentice Cal! When did you get here?” Orrin turned in surprise, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Not that long ago,” Cal lied. “How do you like the smithy so far?”

“Oh, it’s awesome! The smoke actually goes up a chimney and not into my lungs. And the heat! I can finally work without feeling like I might pass out. And the blower keeps the fire steady when I used to fight it. I couldn’t be happier.”

Cal’s smile widened as Orrin gushed. “I’m glad, Orrin. You deserve a place like this.”

Orrin flushed and looked away. “Thanks.”

Cal gave him a breather and shifted the topic. “Since I have the privilege of a talented blacksmith nearby, I was wondering if you know what any of these materials are.”

He drew the pieces from his storage pouch and laid them out. Orrin’s eyes went straight to the voidiron pellet, then to the others—lingering on the Dragonite scale.

“If you’re showing me these, they must have some use in smithing,” Orrin said, touching the scale with open curiosity.

“I can’t say for certain, but I strongly suspect it,” Cal replied.

Orrin studied the crystals from the sinkhole, then glanced up. “I only recognize the voidiron pellet. I’m sorry… I wish I could be more help.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Cal said. “I didn’t expect answers this fast. I noticed you have a source for those pellets. Are you allowed to share it?”

He kept his voice easy, more of a request than an order.

Instead of getting nervous, Orrin looked confused. “Apprentice Cal, you can get as many as you want from the guild. They sell them to members in your tier with no restrictions.”

Cal felt foolish. He should have assumed as much, given voidiron’s use in guild weapons.

“Well, that’s good.” He cleared his throat. “I still need sources for the others, so I’ll leave this with you.” He motioned to the unknown crystal as he stored the Earth Crystal and Dragonite scale in his pouch. “If your contact can find a source, great. If not, use it for experiments. See how they work with your craft.”

I would have liked to leave the Earth Crystal too, but it’s the last one I have with the other in Bran’s hands.

Orrin brightened at the new material. “I’ll see what I can do, Apprentice Cal.”

Cal left for Mariner’s Rest soon after, intent on finding a lead to sell his rare-rank tools.

***

The atmosphere was strange. Cal noticed it the moment he stepped into Mariner’s Rest. He’d always drawn looks, but this was different—something he couldn’t quite name.

His plan had been to probe the Initiates who loitered around town, but the greed in their eyes kept him away. They were eager to be hired on his farm. One question about materials and they’d claim he owed them a favor. Right or wrong, guild members were famously stubborn about being right. While he could ignore them as an Apprentice, alienating too many external Initiates was no good for his peace of mind.

After all, he might need to hire some of them, and planting a seed of discontent for no reason was a terrible idea.

Cal stood on the street that led toward a place he never thought he’d willingly visit again. “I must be crazy to think this is a good idea.”

Visiting Nismus was a bad idea all around, especially with the lack of mana reserves. But options were limited if he wanted a way to sell rare-rank tools. Drex wouldn’t be helpful even if Cal asked. Using guild resources was out of the question with how little he trusted them. And Master Arhan, outside the Celestial Order’s territory, was too unfamiliar to trust with the knowledge that he had so many valuable tools.

I really have no choice.

“Are you the horde slayer?” a tiny voice asked from below.

Cal’s indecision broke. A child with smudged cheeks and mussed hair stared up at him, eyes bright. There was no guardian in sight—typical for Mariner’s Rest.

He hesitated, but those expectant eyes were hard to refuse. Given what the guild had been spreading about him and Tavia, the nickname wasn’t surprising. “I am, but you can call me Cal. What’s your name, kid?”

The boy gasped, spun, and shouted, “He’s talking to me! I told you he wouldn’t be angry!”

Cal’s eyes widened as the shout opened the floodgates. A horde of children rushed him, chattering over one another. He could have handled that—barely—but when the adults took it as permission to crowd in, he knew he was in over his head.

Is this what Tavia dealt with in Lumina? …Probably worse.

Everywhere he looked: faces lit with hero worship. Maybe the guild had gone above and beyond with the spreading of false rumors. Still, with Mariner’s Rest so far from Lumina, he hadn’t expected wiping out a horde to spark this much fervor.

There was no way out on the ground, but Cal wasn’t limited to the streets. He gently nudged the children closest to his legs, just enough to allow him to bend his knees, before launching himself high above the crowd and onto the roof of a nearby house.

The looks of amazement directed at him grew to another level at seeing his physical prowess, but Cal didn’t linger, jumped from roof to roof, and escaped.

He reached the edge of town near the Eatery—the only restaurant in Mariner’s Rest. The last time he’d eaten there with Benan, it had been nearly empty. Which was great for avoiding attention.

Cal jumped down from the roof and took in the quiet street. There were a few stragglers here and there, but they kept their distance from him since they didn’t have a mob to embolden their courage.

“That was exciting. You’ve gotten a lot more popular since the last time I was here.”

He stiffened and turned slowly, hoping it wasn’t who he thought. Benan stood behind him, smiling.

Cal grimaced. He would rather have met with Nismus.