Henyee Translations

  Henyee Translations

  The numbness was wearing off. Mag could feel his strength as he stepped on the ground, which lightened his mood.

  “I’ll be more productive. I think I should hire another waitress after all,” Mag said to himself as he walked.

  He passed by Mobai’s forge all the time, but not once had he stepped in.

  His forge was as large as Mag’s house. In fact, all the houses in the Aden Square were pretty much the same in size; they had been built at the same time. Some large shops were using two or more houses.

  Mobai’s house was built of black square stones, newly repaired from the look of it. The walls were rough—as expected of the tough owner.

  His signboard was made of five iron discs hanging on an iron bar sticking out of the front wall. On the discs were five red letters in caps, which read: forge. The signboard had seemingly been repainted many times. It was old, and had seen so many customers come and go.

  The forge had a wooden door, and now it was wide open.

  Mag could hear somebody hammering now.

  He stopped at the door and looked inside. He saw various kinds of weapons hanging on two wooden racks and the right wall: axes, knives, iron staves, short swords, longswords, and heavy swords; they were weapons commonly used in this world. There were four chairs by the left wall, in which was a small window. Beyond the left wall was the place where Mobai was working. The layout was simple, and the black stone floor seemed pretty clean.

  The swords were shimmering, screaming sharpness.

  Mag was more than familiar with swords.

  Naturally, weapons were crucial to soldiers; they could mean life or death sometimes. Mobai’s reputation kept his business successful.

  There were only three blacksmiths who were as good as Mobai. Although no one could tell who was the best, the fact that he was busy all these years spoke volumes.

  As Mag walked in quietly, he could hear men talking. He recognized the voices of Mobai and Habeng. Apparently, Habeng went straight here after breakfast.

  “What brings you here, Mag?” Mobai asked, looking at Mag through the small window in surprise.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just browsing.”

  Habeng walked out and smiled at Mag. “You should buy one, Mag.”


  Mag shook his head with a smile. “I already have one: my cooking knife. I just came here to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Mag Alex used a black heavy sword in his prime—it weighed around 50 kg. He had been able to kill a dragon with a single swing of his sword.

  Mag could lift something just as heavy now, but there was no way he was capable of

  a sword that heavy.

  “Do you sell weapons, system?” Mag asked. He found his neighbor’s weapons too expensive.

  “I do not have any lethal weapons,” the system said seriously.

  “I guess I’ll buy one here, then.”


  “I’ll sell you one if you promise you won’t use it on anyone,” the system said reluctantly.

  “What good is a sword if I can’t use it to kill? Do you intend me to play with it like a freaking toy?!”


  “What’s wrong with toys? You bought Amy’s toys from me, remember? Some toys need more skills, devotion, and time than your cold weapons. Some are even more expensive. So, why are you so against toys?”


  Habeng nodded. “It would be a great loss for us if you became a knight. We could do without a knight, but we couldn’t do without a chef.”


  “Thank you.” Mag smiled.

  He walked towards a longsword on the wall.

  “I’d take the shorter one if I were you,” Mobai said with a smile as he walked out in a thick black apron.

  Mobai thought to himself.

  “Thank you, but I think I like this one.” Mag took it in his hand. The carved handle was cool to the touch, but he suddenly felt fired up.