The screaming knife-attacker was killed in an instant, cut in half by a guard’s runesword.

His death was far from the only incident that occurred. Throughout the hour that Vivi spent watching the collection day, half a dozen a dozen crazies died self-caused deaths. The guards subjugated two failed attempts at causing a riot, sending the instigators to be whipped. All the while the rest of the nimrods stood in line, waiting for their turn to pay their share toward keeping Zand operational.

“They can’t kill us all!” one of the rioters had screamed. The same man was now being whipped, punished for his actions.

Vivi gave thought to his words. Most nimrods didn’t want to riot. Their lives were difficult, but they were surviving. Even the blacksmith dwarves seemed to mostly accept their lives. To them, smithing weapons was easier and simpler than trying to fight back against oppression.

Even if every nimrod gathered together, fighting all against staff, Vivi doubted the nimrods would stand a chance. The guards and their runeswords were on another level of strength compared to what the nimrods were allowed to wield.

For a successful mass breakout, the nimrods would somehow have to break the three hundred ether barrier. They’d have to get their hands on truly powerful weapons. And on top of this, they’d likely need at least a few powerful skills.

It was impossible. The nimrods couldn’t organize all of that within a week.

But alone, Vivi could grow. Nobody could sense Lucius and his ether reserves. Vivi knew how to craft runeswords.

Distant dreams, Vivi thought with a sigh. In Zand, we survive one day at a time. One hour at a time.

A short time later, all of the dwarves gathered up, having delivered their ether. Axback assessed the group, making sure nobody was missing.

Just as they were leaving, one of the dwarves whispered, “Look! Isn’t that Aang?”

The dwarves turned around to see what the commotion was. Not just the dwarves—everyone’s attention turned to the collection platforms.

Vivi didn’t need to ask who everyone was looking at. Aang was huge, white tattoos lining his scorched demonic arms. His white shirt was clean but slowly turning yellow, and his posture conveyed absolute confidence.

Aang quickly got himself examined, passing the check. He delivered his ether to Uundref. He was assigned to the same Steward as Vivi. Aang didn’t wait around; without saying a word, he stepped off. The crowd made space as he passed.

Demons followed him, however. A whole crowd of them. Some were looking to join his union, others called him out for being a lazy, useless leader. Aang didn’t respond to anyone, simply walking past with a pissed off expression.

Ravig sighed. “Collection day has one benefit, at least. Everyone is forced to come. Everyone. If there’s someone hiding from you, you can always wait for them to show their face during collection day. The big names usually show up last second when the lines have cleared.”

I could wait for humans to show up, Vivi thought. See that Andre for myself.

No. That was too much of a risk. Vivi couldn’t get involved yet. If the blue-cloaks were truly led by a human, the same humans had tried to kill her.

The dwarves were turning back to their smithy now. None of them had died; the smithy seemed to be doing well enough, but a gloomy cloud hung over everyone nonetheless. The whippings were still ongoing in the distance.

“The hub will calm down for a few days now,” Axback said, walking beside Vivi. “Facilities work in one-week cycles. Collection days kill off those who failed. With the crazies gone and the week fresh, everyone is hopeful and determined to gather ether. Until inevitably, a new bunch of nimrods realize they aren’t going to make it next week. Then insanity shows up on the streets again. You just need to make sure you’re not amongst the insane.”

“Thanks for your help, Master,” Vivi said.

Axback snorted. “You can barely call this help. My blacksmiths are all useful. Together, we keep each other strong.”

He unlocked the doors to the rented smithy. The keys were kept in the inner pockets of his jacket, where pickpocketing was hard.

The warehouse was not empty, as they had left it.

“Fiend!” Axback shouted.

A white-haired little girl sat on top of an anvil—Vivi’s workstation—munching on a slab of uncooked meat with her fanged teeth. She was the same girl that Vivi saw running from guards yesterday. She kept sitting on the anvil, eyes sharp.

“You goddamned thief!” Axback shouted. He picked up a broom, then approached the girl.

The girl hopped off the anvil. She was so tiny, almost as short as the anvil itself. She let out a laugh as she ran past Axback. She jumped over the broom. Meat-stick still in her mouth, she ran toward Vivi.

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Vivi stepped out of the way, letting the girl out of the doors. She ran off, quickly disappearing into the hub.

“Damned fiend,” Axback called. “Why didn’t you stop her!”

“I thought she would bite,” Vivi said.

Axback stared at her, then sighed. “You’re not wrong. Whose meat did she steal?”

The apprentices looked at each other. “We don’t keep food around,” one of them said.

“Wasn’t our meat, then,” Axback said. “I never keep boar meat around. Check your belongings. Make sure nothing is gone. Eat if you have to. Then get back to work.”

Vivi got out of the way as the blacksmiths followed orders, checking their items. She didn’t own anything beside her raincoat, which was still with her.

“Who was that girl?” she asked.

“She’s a half-fiend half-elf,” Axback said. “Nobody knows who she is or what her name is. Rumors say her mother ended her own life after being forced to deliver a fiend. Nobody knows how the child ended up in Zand. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t fight. All she does is run around and cause havoc. She manages to pay her hundred ether every time by stealing. Bwern even placed a bounty of fifty ether on her name just to get rid of her. Just about everyone wants her gone. Nobody has caught her yet.”

“She’s a nimrod?” Vivi asked.

“Yeah,” Axback said. “She has broken into the smithy four times now. Each time, she sat around, eating food she stole from somewhere else. I don’t think many thoughts run in her head. She just likes the heat of our forges. Bad luck that girl, let me tell you. Don’t go near her.”

She looked harmless to me, Vivi thought. But she didn’t argue. Axback was still her master. She had work remaining.

She spent the next six hours completing the deal with Axback. She forged one more simple longsword for Axback. There was nothing special about the sword. Vivi simply forged it with enough care that its buyer wouldn’t have any complaints.

The last sword, her own sword, naturally received a lot more care from Vivi’s hammer. She smithed a smaller sword, specifically designed for her own height. She wanted the sword to be bulky enough to slash through ghouls and skeletons, as well as any other monstrosities she met, while also being light enough to swing with one arm.

If Vivi had access to runesmithing, she would have loved a swiftness rune and a sharpness rune. The sword would have been perfect for its purpose with the combination of runes. Without runesmithing, the process became a lot more difficult. The sword’s strength depended entirely on Vivi’s blacksmithing skills and her knowledge of metallurgy.

Nonetheless, the boring steel sword was done before nightfall. Vivi carved a wooden handle for the sword, then tested it.

With two arms, the sword felt perfect. The weight was proper for Vivi. Her hands fit the handle, and the sword’s blade was firm and sharp. With one arm, however, she struggled. The sword felt heavy, and her form slipped. She had never practiced swings with one arm.

Still, the sword was good. She considered her time at the smithy a success.

“I’d really like you to stay, Vivi,” Axback said, noticing that Vivi was done. “A blacksmith with your skills is wasted down there.”

“I would love to stay,” Vivi said. “But I can’t.”

“You’ll die in the dungeon,” Axback said.

“Possibly,” Vivi said.

“You’d still risk it all? Even if I could pay you all the ether you’ll need? A hundred and fifty a week?”

“Life is complicated, Master.”

And my debt won’t pay itself…

Axback studied her expression, as if observing her will for weaknesses. He spotted none. “I can’t force you. You’ll need a scabbard.”

“No,” Lucius said. “Tell him we won’t need a scabbard.”

What? Vivi thought. Why would we not need a scabbard?

“I have a better solution,” Lucius said. “Trust me.”

Okay…

Vivi thought. She bowed to Axback. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you for everything. I’ll be leaving now. Am I welcome back if I’m still alive later?”

Axback stared at her. He sighed. “So long as you don’t bring any trouble, my doors are open.”

“Thank you,” Vivi said.

“See you, Vivi,” Ravig said from his anvil. “Don’t die.”

She gave one last bow. And before she could grow any more attached, she turned around.

The hub, in all its greatness, embraced Vivi with its hardstone walls. Alone once again.

Well, then, Vivi thought. A hundred thousand ether to earn. Eleven months of time. Why did we not need a scabbard?

“I can keep the sword in my spatial storage,” Lucius said. “From there, you can call it at will.”

Spatial storage? Vivi had totally forgotten about that. Spirits could store items in their stomachs. There, the items would bear no weight, and carrying them would take no space.

Still, there was a problem. We’re supposed to look ordinary. If we use spatial magic, it’ll look like we’re conjuring a sword out of nowhere.

“Slide the sword inside your raincoat,” Lucius said.

Vivi raised her eyebrows. But she did as asked, sliding the sword into her coat from behind and above her back. The gesture was awkward. If her sword was any longer, her arms wouldn’t have been long enough.

Hidden inside her coat, the sword disappeared from her grip. Lucius ate it into his spatial storage.

“Now hold your hand on the same spot,” Lucius said.

Vivi did so, keeping her hand open where she’d just placed her sword. Lucius transferred the sword back to her arms. She retrieved the sword from underneath her raincoat, as if nothing had happened.

“This is sneaky enough, no?” Lucius asked. “In emergency situations, I can call the sword directly to your hands. Although, I believe we will do better fighting with my claws.”

This will work, Vivi agreed. For now, I’ll walk with the sword open. We need to look threatening.

She turned toward the dungeon, feeling apprehensive. Her preparations were still lacking; she didn’t know how to fight, she didn’t have a runesword, and Lucius’s powers were still mostly unfamiliar to her.

Still, she was as ready as she would realistically get. We found allies. Now, we need a spot where we can hunt.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep