The ringing of steel had long since faded, leaving only the quiet crackle of the forge's embers. A soft orange glow bathed the workshop, and the air smelled of charcoal, metal, and sweat — a scent that Ren knew would stay with him for a lifetime.
Today…Today he would finish his first sword.
Lyra stood a few steps behind him, fingers clasped nervously at her chest, shifting her weight constantly. She had been like this ever since dawn, almost hovering around him like a worried bird.
Haldor watched from the side with his arms crossed, expression unreadable. The massive dwarf had not interfered even once during the forging process. He simply observed, occasionally grumbling to himself — but Ren never missed the faint glimmer of interest in the old man's eyes.
Ren lifted the blade from the quenching barrel. The steel hissed and steamed as droplets ran off its newly hardened edge. The sword was still rough, still dull, still incomplete…
But it was his.
Forged by his hands.
Shaped by his effort.
Born from nothing into steel.
He swallowed. "Time for tempering."
Haldor grunted. "Aye. Heat it low, else ye ruin all ye worked fer."
Ren nodded and placed the blade back into the forge — not into the heart of the flame, but into the gentler glow at the side. He slowly rotated it, watching the colors spread along the metal.
Yellow.Straw.Brown.
He remembered the books from Earth he had read long ago. He remembered blacksmithing videos, the science behind metal. His hands moved with a confidence even he didn't fully understand.
When the colors were right, he removed the blade and let it cool naturally on a waiting anvil.
Lyra exhaled in awe. "Ren… it looks beautiful already."
"It's not done," he said, though he couldn't stop the small smile tugging at his lips.
Next came sharpening.
Ren fixed the sword in a clamp and began grinding the edge across a whetstone. Back and forth, long and steady strokes, occasionally dipping it in water. The sound was rhythmic — almost meditative.
Lyra crouched beside him, leaning in a little too close."Careful," he said, chuckling. "You'll get metal dust in your face."
She jerked back with a pout. "I'm supporting you! Don't scold me."
Haldor snorted.
Ren finished sharpening and began polishing. With each pass of the fine-grit stone, the sword caught more light. The reflection grew clearer, smoother.
Until finally—
He lifted it up.
And the sword gleamed.
Pure. Clean. Balanced.
A real weapon.
A creation.
A beginning.
Lyra's eyes widened. "Ren… you did it."
He felt something twist in his chest. A sense of pride. A sense of accomplishment he hadn't felt in years.
The system chimed:
[Skill Acquired: Blacksmith (Early)]
You have taken your first step into the path of creation.
Craft speed +5%, Craft success chance +3%.
[Equipment Identified — Self-Forged Iron Sword]
Quality: Low-Iron / Refined
Effects :
+5 Agility
+4 Strength
Description:A blade forged with determination and purpose. The first work of Ren Arcrest.
Ren inhaled sharply. It gives stats?
His heart pounded.
A sword that increased agility and strength — even by small amounts — was priceless at his stage.
He knew he had to hide this carefully.
Lyra stepped closer, her hand trembling as she touched the blade's flat with a single finger.
"It's warm…" she whispered. "Alive, almost."
Ren gently took her hand away from the metal. "Careful. It's still sensitive to temperature."
She looked up at him — and suddenly tears welled at the corner of her eyes.
Ren blinked. "H-Huh? Why are you cryin—?"
"You… you actually did it," Lyra breathed. "You said you would forge your own sword someday and… Ren, you really did."
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well… yeah. I had to. I needed a weapon."
"That's not why." Lyra shook her head, voice softer than he had ever heard it. "This is the first thing you've made for yourself. Your first real step in this world. And I'm— I'm happy."Her voice cracked. "I'm just… really happy."
Her sincerity hit him harder than the heat of the forge.
Ren looked away, unable to hide the faint flush on his cheeks.
Haldor suddenly coughed loudly, ruining the moment."Hrmph. Naming. Name the damn blade. A sword ain't finished 'til it's got a name."
Ren almost choked. "N-Name it?"
"Aye." The dwarf scowled. "Else it's just metal. Names give will. Will gives strength."
Lyra wiped her eyes and nodded vigorously. "Yes! Name it! Name it something cool!"
Ren looked down at the sword again.
The blade reflected his eyes.Clear. Focused. Determined.
Slowly, he whispered:
"…Edge of Dawn."
Lyra shivered as though something passed through the air.
Haldor's eyebrow lifted. "Not bad, lad."
The sword's window flickered:
['Edge of Dawn' — Name Registered]
A warmth spread through Ren's hand — as if the sword acknowledged him.
Lyra sighed dreamily. "Ren… that name suits you so much."
"W-What does that mean?"
"Nothing."She smiled playfully. "Just that I like it."
He coughed and she giggled, which made Haldor roll his eyes like an exhausted parent.
Ren sheathed the sword and tied it around his waist. It fit perfectly — not just physically, but emotionally. As if it had been waiting for him all along.
Haldor clapped a hand on Ren's shoulder."Yer not half bad. Keep at it, and maybe, maybe, ye'll be worthy o' callin' yerself a blacksmith someday."
Lyra pumped both fists in the air. "Ren is already amazing!"
Ren groaned. "Don't exaggerate…"
"No!" She shook her head vehemently. "You worked so hard. You deserve to hear it."
He smiled. A real one.
A rare one.
For the first time since arriving in this world, Ren felt like he wasn't just surviving.
He was living.
He was creating.
He was building a future — one swing of a hammer at a time.
With Edge of Dawn hanging securely at his side, Ren and Lyra stepped out of the forge into the chilly afternoon. The wind had grown sharper; winter's grip strengthened each day.
Lyra tugged her new winter cloak tighter. "We still have six days left to find the Earth Golem… but if the storm season really starts early, this might be our last chance."
Ren nodded. "We need that core before the wedding. And before the mountain paths close."
They set out together, boots crunching over frosted ground as they headed toward the rocky foothills where the guild's map marked common Earth Golem sightings.
The air bit at Ren's nose, but the weight of his newly forged blade somehow made him feel warmer — steadier. He rested a hand on the hilt unconsciously.
Lyra noticed and smiled."You really like your sword, don't you?"
"…It feels right," Ren admitted.
"I'm glad," she said softly. "It suits you."
They followed a narrow path up the mountainside. The rocks here were darker, rougher, and the wind howled through the cracks.
While they didn't find the Earth Golem yet, they did find plenty of things worth taking.
Ren paused at a boulder with silver streaks across its surface.
"Common Iron Ore," he muttered. "Enough for weapons and maybe armor later."
Since leveling up, his eyes naturally scanned the terrain for materials; Lyra quickly helped him extract several chunks with a pickaxe they borrowed from Haldor.
Nearby, she gathered frost herbs with delicate blue leaves.
"These sell well," she said. "They're used in cold-resistance potions."
"And we'll need the money," Ren added.
They filled almost half their packs with useful herbs and ore.
As they climbed higher, something darted between the rocks.
"Ren, look!" Lyra whispered.
Two Mountain Rabbits — larger than normal rabbits, with thick white fur and sharp claws — watched them cautiously.
Ren drew Edge of Dawn.
"These things move fast," Lyra warned, already nocking an arrow.
One rabbit lunged — Ren sidestepped and struck with the flat of his blade. The agility boost from the sword was subtle but real; he felt lighter, sharper.
Thud.
The rabbit fell.
The second bolted, but Lyra's arrow pinned it cleanly through the leg before it escaped.
"Good shot."
"Of course," she grinned proudly.
They skinned the rabbits immediately — mountain rabbit fur fetched a good price, especially before winter — and Ren wrapped the meat carefully to bring home.
"My siblings will love this," he said, imagining the warm meal.
Lyra smiled warmly."They deserve it."
But the moment they reached a ridge overlooking the deeper mountain tunnels — where Earth Golems were most likely to appear — the sky darkened.
A low roar echoed across the peaks.
Lyra's face paled. "…Ren. That's—"
"Ice storm," Ren finished.
The wind turned vicious instantly. Shards of frozen sleet cut through the air like glass. Even with winter coats, the cold stabbed through their layers.
Ren grabbed Lyra's hand. "We retreat. If we stay, we'll freeze."
They turned back, heads down against the storm.
The mountain path became slippery, forcing them to move slowly. Lyra stumbled once, and Ren caught her arm without thinking.
"You okay?"
She gave a shaky nod. "I-I'm fine. Let's just get down."
The wind howled like a beast behind them, chasing them all the way until they reached the lower forest where the trees finally broke the storm's fury.
By the time they reached the village gate, both were exhausted and shivering.
The guards let them in quickly, shouting over the rising storm:
"Storm's early this year! Better stay inside for the night!"
Ren and Lyra exchanged a grim look.
Six days left — and now a storm blocking the mountains.
This was going to be harder than they expected.
Before going home, Ren stopped by the merchant stalls, selling the frost herbs and rabbit furs. The price was higher than usual due to the incoming cold.
He earned enough coins to Restock food for the entire house, Buy extra vegetables and dried meat, Purchase warm refills of firewood, and Pick up some small comfort items for the younger siblings
Lyra helped him carry everything back.
"You spoil them," she teased gently.
"They deserve better than what the world gave them," Ren said simply.
When he walked into the house, the younger children lit up instantly.
"Brother, you're back!""You brought meat?""It smells so good!"
Ren set the wrapped rabbit meat on the counter. "We'll cook it tonight. Mira, help me wash it."
Mira nodded eagerly.
Lyra watched Ren with a soft expression — something unreadable, something warm.
He ignored the way it made his heart skip.
After putting away the food and preparing the fireplace, Ren finally collapsed onto his bed, exhausted from the storm, the climb, and the weight of responsibility.
Tomorrow…They would go out again.
They had six days left.
And they would not fail.