The next morning, a faint light filtered through the cracks in the window and spilled into the room.
Matthew slowly opened his eyes, ending his half-night of shallow sleep.
After half a night of regulating his breathing, the previous day's fatigue had completely vanished. His Spirit had recovered to its peak, and a cool, refreshing sensation washed over his entire body.
As for why it was only half a night...
He had discovered that whenever he ran the 【Elemental Meditation Method】 at night, he would naturally emerge from his trance-like state around midnight.
Even if he tried to sink back into meditation, his Spirit felt blocked by an invisible barrier, preventing him from re-entering that deep state of tranquility.
Perhaps my Spirit stat is too low to sustain long-term meditation, or maybe my proficiency in the meditation method is lacking...
Matthew sighed silently. He still knew far too little about the wizard's system of cultivation.
He rolled out of bed, packed his gear, buckled his longsword back onto his waist, and pushed the door open. He planned to find Uncle Delank first to ask about today's schedule.
The tavern corridor was exceptionally quiet in the early morning, with only the faint sound of sweeping drifting up from downstairs.
Walking to the end of the creaking wooden hallway, Matthew spotted a door standing ajar.
His gaze happened to slip through the crack, catching a glimpse of the scene inside.
It was a room about the same size as his small private one, but it was crammed with makeshift bedding on the floor. The four teenagers who had traveled with them yesterday were currently curled up on coarse burlap mats, fast asleep.
The chill of the early autumn morning made them instinctively wrap their thin blankets tighter. They slept in various awkward postures, their faces a mix of exhaustion from the long journey and the relaxation of safe rest.
Matthew's expression remained calm and unreadable, but his heart stirred slightly.
Seeing the boys crammed together on the shared floor made him realize that the private space bought with his silver coins was a rare luxury in this environment.
It wasn't a matter of pity, but rather another clear realization of the hierarchical differences in survival in this world.
Power, strength, or “value” indeed brought different treatment. He quietly suppressed the emotion stirring beneath his calm exterior.
Just then, Uncle Delank, who was sleeping near the door, seemed to be awakened by the noise in the hallway. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and happened to spot Matthew standing outside.
He quickly patted his face to wake himself up, carefully stepped over the sleeping teenagers, and tiptoed out, gently closing the door behind him to avoid waking the others.
“Matthew, up so early? Did you rest well?”
Uncle Delank rubbed his hands together and asked in a lowered voice.
“I'm doing well, fully recovered. Uncle Delank, how long do you think today's purchasing will take?”
Matthew asked with a smile.
“Ah, the purchasing... Today, we're mainly trading the pelts and herbs we brought for salt, iron tools, and some coarse cloth that the village urgently needs.”
“I reckon if all goes well, we'll have everything sorted by noon, and we can load the carts in the afternoon to get ready to head out.”
Matthew nodded, pulled several animal pelts from his pack, and handed them over. “These are a few pelts I brought along. The quality is decent. Could you please help me sell them as well? You can keep the money for now.”
Delank took them solemnly and replied, “Don't worry, leave it to me. There are a few fur shops in town that buy this kind of stuff, and their prices are fair enough. I deal with them often, so we won't get ripped off.”
“As for the purchasing, just go about it as usual. There's no rush; we can start our return trip tomorrow morning.”
“Alright, go ahead with your work.”
After their brief discussion, Matthew turned and went downstairs. The reason he was in no hurry to head back this afternoon was, for one, because traveling through the wilderness at night was far too dangerous.
Rather than risking a caravan laden with supplies under the cover of darkness, it was better to rest for another night in the relatively safe town.
Secondly, he had no idea how efficient the town's blacksmith shop would be. After all, the importance of his chainmail was self-evident, and getting it repaired was his primary purpose for coming to town.
In the early morning, the town's streets were sparsely populated, and the air still carried the chill of morning dew.
Following the directions Sierra had given him earlier, he walked along the paved stone road toward the western side of town.
Before long, the faint, rhythmic clinking of hammer on iron drifted over...
The blacksmith shop was located at the end of a narrow alley. The storefront wasn't large, but the furnace was burning hot, sending waves of heat rolling out.
There were three people inside. Two young men who looked like apprentices were polishing iron components in a corner, while a dark-skinned, muscular middle-aged man was hammering away near the entrance.
A few finished products hung outside the shop: hoes, woodcutters' axes, and several crudely made shortswords.
Matthew stepped forward, pulled out his chainmail, and got straight to the point. “Master, I have a piece of chainmail that needs repairing. Could you take a look and see if you can fix it?”
The middle-aged man set down his hammer, wiped away his sweat, and took the chainmail from Matthew, inspecting it closely.
His fingers traced the links and the surface of the armor, his eyes focused.
After a moment, the middle-aged man's furrowed brow relaxed. He looked up and said, “The small tear is easy to fix, but the craftsmanship of this piece is quite impressive, and the material is top-notch too.”
Hearing this, Matthew's heart sank halfway, but the man's next words lifted his spirits again.
“This pattern and the hammering technique used on the rings... it's not local craftsmanship. No one in Anda Town can restore this steel chainmail to its original state.”
Matthew wasn't surprised that the man could tell. It was like presenting a high school math problem to a middle school student—even if they couldn't solve it, they could still recognize that it was advanced.
On the contrary, this only reflected the blacksmith's keen eye and experience.
Matthew quickly chimed in, “It doesn't need to be restored to its original state. As long as it's wearable and doesn't compromise its protection, that's fine.”
This was the truth. After all, when it came to chainmail, usability was all that mattered. If the tear hadn't been right on the shoulder, making it awkward to move while wearing it, he wouldn't have even bothered to get it repaired.
The man looked at the chainmail in his hands, then looked up at Matthew. “Alright, leave it with me. A small tear is no big deal. I'll patch it up nice and sturdy for you. Come pick it up tomorrow morning.”
He paused, then held out a hand.
“A deposit of twenty silver coins, and a final payment of fifty.”
Matthew was still a bit surprised by the price, but he didn't try to bargain.
Because according to Sierra, this was the only blacksmith shop in Anda Town...
When a service was rare, its value naturally soared, and the seller set the price.
Moreover, in some even more remote and smaller towns, there weren't even blacksmith shops. If one wanted to repair any decent ironware, they would have to travel to another town specifically for it.
“Alright, thank you, Master,” Matthew agreed. He counted out a gold coin from his purse and handed it over.
The middle-aged blacksmith took the gold coin, a smile finally breaking across his face. He promised, “Don't worry, just come pick it up tomorrow morning!”
With that, he handed Matthew his change.
Without saying another word, Matthew turned and left the blacksmith shop.
The morning breeze at the mouth of the alley was slightly cool, but his mind felt a bit more at ease. The matter of the chainmail was finally settled.
Rate on N.U.
