Being in the good graces of the city’s ruler had helped more than we thought. Being celebrities didn’t hurt either. The clerk flipped out when she learned we were the ones behind the collapse of the dungeon.

  She’d run out of the store and fetched the store owner, whom we ended up chatting for a solid hour. He’d even asked for our autographs—something I hadn’t known was a thing in this world. Apparently, fame had the same hallmarks in any world.

  In the end, we ended up haggling the price down to 250 gold coins for both the [Aegis of the Sixth Barrier] and [Smite] orbs, which the owner admitted was their cost price. He said he didn’t feel right profiting off us. Which basically meant we got a good discount on the more expensive one, and the other for free. The owner had even thrown in a [Common] orb for free. One that had me salivating.

  We walked out of the store supremely happy with our purchases. More than that, it was such a far cry from the initial disdain and indifference we’d been treated with, back when we shopped in Basecrest before the Cataclysm Dungeon.

  Which was, of course, how I was used to being treated my entire life. I felt like I’d just gotten a taste of what it felt like to be rich and powerful, and I had to admit, it was pretty fine indeed. I used to think being rich was overrated. Now? I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Our next stop was the tailor’s place, and we went without hesitation to the ritziest place in town.

  As much as Aerion and I appreciated the discount on the orbs, we both decided not to reveal our identities here. Sure, these guys made a killing fleecing the rich, but I knew the prior owner had lost out, selling those orbs at cost. Rich or not, it felt bad to abuse our privilege like that. That, and I was already getting tired of the publicity. Not to mention Aerion would negotiate a good deal even without all that.

  No, Aerion was so proficient at bargaining that we didn’t need to pull out the hero card. I left the place carrying a bag full of the most luxurious silk I’d ever worn. Not the gaudy, overpriced crap embroidered with gold, of course, but it was quality, nonetheless.

  The stuff was so soft, I could hardly believe it wasn’t some magic fiber. Thin, too. So thin I wondered if it would rip, but as the clerk had shown us by pulling on both ends with all his might, it was much stronger than it looked.

  And with my Initialization boons, that would grow even further. I’d confirmed in the shop that every piece I’d bought was [Rare], and I couldn’t wait to enchant them.

  That would have to wait, though. In fact, for my next trick, I’d have to actually destroy the [Uncommon] clothing I currently wore, along with some of my other, lesser used weapons and armor.

  I thought about waiting to level up so I could Uninitialize them and sell them, but Aerion told me the secondhand clothing market—especially for the simple stuff I’d bought—was very weak, and that it wouldn’t be worth my time. Not when we were swimming in hundreds of gold.

  I had to agree, which was why I planned to melt my old steel gauntlets and rip apart my fabric garments as soon as we got to our next stop.

  Yep, our next stop… Rogar’s.

  I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t dreaded this reunion. It was partly why I’d put it off for so long.

  “Oh, and don’t look him in the eye,” I said, coaching Aerion in proper grumpy asshole etiquette. “He might take that as a challenge to his authority.”

  Aerion rolled her eyes. “What is he, a blacksmith? Or a territorial animal?”

  “Yes,” I replied flatly, causing my elf friend to chuckle. “I’m serious. He’s a grouchy old bastard who will take advantage of you at the first opportunity. Keep your guard up, and don’t give him an inch, alright?”

  “Alright, fine,” Aerion said. “I admit, I’m rather interested in meeting him now. I doubt I’ve ever met anyone as foul as you make him out to be.”

  “Oh, believe me, he’s the wors—”

  “GRUG!”

  I whirled to find the short, stocky man barreling in my direction.

  Shit. He was gonna attack me, wasn’t he? The day had finally come. Rogar was showing his true colors at last.

  I instinctively adopted a guard position, as did Aerion, though neither of us pulled our weapons. I couldn’t understand why the blacksmith would want to hurt me, but it was no secret he had it out for me.

  Bad decision, Rogar. I wasn’t the same, weak human I’d been upon entering this world. I could defend myself. I’d send a message. I’d fend off his… bear hug?

  What the fuck?

  “You sodding devil, you! Never thought I’d see you again! And then I hear you’ve gone and saved the city? I said to myself, no, not that Grug. Not my Grug! But sure as day, it was you, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  “Er, yeah… It was me,” I said, glancing awkwardly at Aerion, who watched the drama unfold with an amused expression.

  “Thank Dominion!” Rogar broke his hug and grasped me by the shoulder. He… was crying. “Thank you, Grug. Thank you for saving this city. I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like. The sacrifice… Did my blade help? Tell me my blade helped.”

  “Your blade helped a lot, Rogar,” I said, patting Light of the Fearless at my hip. “In fact, I might not have survived without it.”

  Thinking back to all the times I relied on its twin abilities, I could say with certainty that it’d saved my neck more than a few times. If I’d entered the dungeon with my old gear…

  I shuddered. I didn’t even want to think about it. As useful as dungeon pick-ups were, you simply couldn’t deny the power of a rare weapon magically forged.

  But those thoughts fell away to the much more pressing question.

  What the fuck was wrong with Rogar?

  I knew this guy far too well to take his antics at face value. I remembered all too well how he’d treated me like trash when we’d first met. Rogar was many things, but stupid wasn’t one. The angry blacksmith was both sly and savvy, and he’d never butter me up like this unless he wanted something. I could take a few guesses as to what.

  After all, who wouldn’t want to buddy up to a couple of heroes? I groaned inwardly. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Leeches and moochers, looking to buddy up with the celebrities?

  All the more reason to keep my identity hidden. Both of them. The same went for Aerion.

  “And who might this be?” Rogar asked, gesturing to Aerion, who was currently in her boy outfit.

  “Friend of mine,” I said. “Aerion, Rogar. Rogar, Aerion.”

  Rogar was all smiles as he shook Aerion’s hand, while Aerion could barely keep from laughing. I realized the image I’d painted of the man wasn’t quite matching up to his current behavior. That was fine. His mask would crack eventually. And knowing the man, that moment wouldn’t be too far off.

  Rogar complimented me for making a friend of an elf and led us in, yammering on about the forge and how business had been booming ever since he made me that sword.

  Well, Rogar might be an ass, but he was good at what he did at least. Light of the Fearless was one of the main reasons I was still alive. If nothing else, it had proven quite useful having a blacksmith willing to make stuff for me on the cheap... Though, now that money was no longer a problem, that had become less of a perk.

  Inside, I found another surprise waiting for me.

  “Philip?” I said, genuinely shocked to find myself swept up in a tight embrace.

  “Gods, am I glad you two made it back. Come, you must tell me everything!”

  “And I!” Rogar said. “What was it like? How’d you make it out alive? Tell me everything!”

  “Yes, everything,” Philip echoed, making me laugh.

  “Don’t worry, I will. First, though… Why are you here? I thought, er…”

  “You thought I was let go,” Philip said with a chuckle. “Well, yes, I was, but then Rogar had a change of heart once he learned I was the one who helped train you two for the dungeon.”

  “And so, you’re back at the forge, recycling metal,” I said, shaking my head. Cracks began to form in my ironclad conviction that Rogar was putting on an act. If he was, he sure was going through a lot of trouble to make it believable.

  “No place I’d rather be,” Philip said, beaming. “Feel like melting some steel? You can fill us in while we work.”

  I rolled up my sleeves. “Do I ever?”

  “You did what!?” Rogar roared, and not for the first time. Apparently, Sinclair hadn’t bothered to notify Philip that I’d played a pivotal role in ending the dungeon. Or that I’d worked with two Champions, which left me in the awkward situation of breaking the news.

  “You’re telling me you’re an honest-to-Dominion hero now?” Philip asked, his reaction only slightly more subdued.

  “Well, we had a lot of help and a lot of luck. And it wasn’t just me. Aerion here easily played as much of a role as I did. Maybe even more.”

  Both men turned to gaze at Aerion, who flushed. “He’s exaggerating,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “It wasn’t that big of a—eep!?”

  Rogar and Philip swept the elf into a great group hug. I couldn’t see Aerion’s face, buried as it was in their chests, but her ears turned promptly pink. Honest, those ears of hers. It was kinda adorable.

  “Alright already,” I said, breaking up the group hug. “Give the poor man some space before you suffocate him.”

  “Look at you,” Rogar said, beaming at us with pride. “Gone an’ saved the city. Yer heroes now!”

  “I, er, suppose. Just did what we had to do.”

  “Sorry, Greg, but I disagree,” Philip said. “You didn’t have to go risk your life delving a dungeon from which you would likely never return. Rogar’s right. Normal people don’t do these things. What you’ve done… You went above and beyond. You oughta be proud. Both of you. I only hope Sinclair appreciates the gravity of your achievement.”

  “Well,” I smiled, “he did let us raid his vault… And he’s going to try to make us nobles.”

  Both Philip and Rogar’s jaws dropped.

  “Say that again,” Rogar croaked.

  “Nothing’s certain yet,” I said. “And even if it does go through, we’ll probably be low on the ladder.”

  “Greg,” Philip said slowly. “I don’t think you understand… Becoming a noble isn’t something that just affects you. It affects your whole family, down through the generations. Every child of yours will be a noble! This is bigger than you think, Greg. It simply does not happen. Not without exceptional circumstances.”

  “Which they’ve earned, Philip,” Rogar said.

  “Yes, my apologies,” Philip corrected immediately. “You’ve of course earned it. Just that… If you truly knew of its significance, you would not be here, melting metal with us.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?” I asked.

  “It would be beneath your station,” Philip said bitterly.

  I laughed. “That right there is a load of utter bullshit. For one, we’re not nobles yet, so don’t go distancing yourself from me. And even if we were, I’d come right back here. Because this is the best damned forge in all of Basecrest.”

  Rogar puffed his chest a bit, but I could tell neither were about to let this go. So I switched tactics.

  “Let’s talk about the real reason we’re here,” I said, grinning. “We’ve got some gear to melt, and some soul crystals to crush. I want to practice my forging.”