Four days later in Grimsley's smithy, Lone was hunched over an anvil which sat right next to the forge. He was consistently striking what looked to be a red-hot blade of some sort. After several strikes, he gently picked up the weapons with some tongs and placed it in a trough filled with cold water.
"Well, I'll be damn'd, ye real'y do 'ave a stupid amount of tal'nt fer Smithin', lad," Grimsley said in fluent Dwarfish to the current soot covered Lone.
"Well, you know how my power works. I did tell you that it only took me a week to recreate life, right?" Lone replied in excellent Dwarfish while he wiped the sweat away from his brow and moved away from the forge.
"Aye, 'at skill of yers, 'good memory', 'at would take a learn'd schol'r decades te learn," Grimsley said with admiration clearly audible in his voice.
Over the past four days, Grimsley had come to respect Lone a fair amount. He thought that even without Lones powers, he would still become a master tier blacksmith if given enough time to study the craft. Grimsley only cared for a few things, but blacksmithing was most certainly one of them. So meeting and teaching someone with so much talent was a great honour for him.
"Well, now I know enough about iron, steel, silver and gold to move on to my next immediate goal happily," Lone said as he stretched a little bit. "As promised Grim, if I find any particularly rare metals on my travels I'll somehow get them back to you so you can teach me how to make them since they are far too expensive for me to create right now, that is, if I don't find a better smith by then," Lone said as he called Grimsley by his new nickname while he joked.
Lone had come to be quite attached to the Dwarf in the past four days which was certainly rare for Lone. Perhaps he was simply drawn to his bluntness or his teaching, Lone wasn't sure, but he certainly liked the man.
"Ah, oof with ye, ye litt'l shite," Grimsley said in embarrassment at his new nickname. He had only ever had a nickname once and he wasn't particularly comfortable with that one, let alone this new one Lone had granted him.
"Haha well anyway, I'll see you around," Lone said as he went to leave but was stopped just before leaving by Grimsley. Grimsley had gone further into the shop and soon returned with a weapon which was entirely grey in his hands. It was a large pole-arm of sorts.
"'Ere lad, take this. Consid'r it as thanks fer te four gold an' fer giv'n this ol' man one more reason te wake up in te mornin'," Grimsley said before he handed the dark grey weapon, a glaive of clearly Dwarven design, to Lone.
"This... this is alterion isn't it? Where the hell did you get enough alterion ore to craft this?" Lone wondered as he was trying to think past his shock. Alterion was the ninth rarest metal on the planet that had been discovered so far, hence Lone's justifiable shock at being gifted such an item.
"Look, I may be from another world, but I know this is worth at least 4,000 gold if not more... I can't just take it from you. But I know you gave it to me after thinking I deserved or needed it for some reason, so I'll keep it, but in exchange, I'll accept you, as a friend and teacher. Grimsley Metalborne, It's been a short four days, but truly, thank you." Lone said as sincerely as he possibly could. A dark black light flashed in Grimsley' eyes after being accepted by Lone before it quickly faded away as if had never been there in the first place.
"Ah, fook oof lad, ye sappy sack of shite," Grimsley rudely said while he pushed Lone out of the Smithy's front door. After he had confirmed that Lone had left, he gently stroked his anvil. "Dinny ye dare fookin' die on me, boy. I don't want to lose another person," he said while he remembered some things he'd rather have left forgotten.
Lone quickly returned home alone as Sophie had been unsummoned along with several books due to how dirty the forge was. It would seem that even though Sophie had a very agreeable personality, she still didn't accept certain things. Poor hygiene was one of these things.
After having a quick bath to clean himself up, Lone decided it was time to redesign his armour sleeve from scratch. He entered the basement just in case something went wrong. Lone the imagined the original sleeve's basic shape, but this time he imagined some incredibly dense but light, grey steel for the base. He then imagined it having seven holes on it that were relatively small but evenly spaced out.
Once he had done that, Lone then imagined the hardest but most flexible leather that he could within his mana limits. 8500MP quickly left him, but Lone didn't even flinch because his Mental Pain Resistance Skill could handle the backlash of draining almost all of his mana. He still felt the pain from it, but it was now tolerable as opposed to being completely unbearable like previously. Then suddenly, the armour sleeve imagined by Lone appeared on his left arm.
"Time to see if this works..." Lone had muttered before he activated one of the effects of his Surgeon of Death title. Suddenly, seven milky white strings swiftly made their way out of the seven holes of Lone's armour sleeve before they quickly combined to make an over layer of armour and then covered his shoulder before stopping after covering the left half of his face.
"Hmm... a lot cheaper than I imagined. I think I'll call you 'Bone Armour'," Lone mumbled while he marvelled at his most recent successful experiment. Admittedly, Lone's sense for naming was relatively lacking. However, sometimes simplicity was all that was needed when it came to names.
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