We took a week to return from the holy city. My sister tried to cheer me up the entire way, but we both knew my father is not going to keep me in the family.

  “At least I still have 5 years.”

  “Don’t say that, Ter. I’m sure Dad will find a way for you to stay in the family. Or at least a good marriage with some noble.”

  “We both know Dad isn’t going to spend resources keeping someone with a craftsman class in the family. If I at least had a medical or administrative class, maybe he’d look for a wife for me, but being a blacksmith and with the current situation, I’ll be lucky if he lets me live at home until I’m 15.”

  “Rob will make him come to his senses, you’ll see.”

  My sister hugs me while the carriage crosses the city toward the noble district, where our mansion is located. I’m terrified of facing my father. Even though he knows perfectly well that I can’t choose my class, he made it very clear what would happen if my class wasn’t suitable. He didn’t do it as a threat, he simply wanted me to understand the reality of my situation.

  The most important thing now is to make a plan. The first thing I have to do is discover my talents, I thought while looking at the city through the window. We passed a group of adventurers returning from an incursion into one of the dungeons.

  Who am I trying to fool. I’ve always wanted to explore dungeons.

  At the door, our father’s butler is waiting for us. A glance lets me see that his class is Diplomat. Since my baptism, I only have to look at someone to see their age, their class, and even their stats if I have enough time. I can also check my own stats and skills, although for now I only have what you would expect from a newly baptized level 1.

  “Follow me. The lord is waiting for you in his study.”

  He starts walking, but stops right after crossing the large doors of the house.

  “Not everyone ends up working in a profession related to their class, and skills can be trained “- he adds in a neutral tone.

  He continues walking while I weigh his words. I know he’s trying to encourage me in his own way. He’s a man who has always been in my father’s service; he never even married. I think in some way he sees us almost like his own children, although he rarely shows affection. As we reach my father’s study, I remember how my mother used to joke about his long mustache.

  “Come in” - my father’s voice orders from inside the study.

  I cross the threshold with my gaze lowered. I waver between crying and anger, but I don’t plan to show my father such an undignified sight. With one last moment to steel myself, I raise my head.

  My father is flanked by Fred and Robert, the eldest of my brothers. Their muscles, built by years of training, still retain all their strength. I use my newly acquired ability to observe him.

  Name: Reginald Briemen

  Class: Paladin

  Titles: Marquis, dragon slayer, feudal lord, ****.

  I assumed I wouldn’t be able to see his stats, but I don’t really understand what his hidden title means.

  “Father” - I greet, bowing my head respectfully.

  I grow more and more nervous while my father watches me without saying a word. Rob looks like he wants to say something, but ultimately stays silent.

  “Leave us alone” - he finally says.

  “Father, I… “- I begin when everyone leaves the room, but he raises a hand to silence me.

  “Haa” - he sighs and part of his regal bearing leaves his figure - “lift your head, son, this is not your fault. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the situation.”

  “Look on the bright side, at least I don’t have a politician class.”

  The smile that appears on his lips lasts no more than a blink.

  “I know I’ll have to pay for this when I meet your mother again in the next life, but there isn’t much I can do about it. If you don’t achieve enough feats in the dungeons by the time you turn 15, I’ll have no choice but to expel you from the family. If you at least had a class dedicated to study or administration there would be other paths, but as a craftsman you have no place among the nobility and therefore among your family.”

  “I know, Father” - I reply with a choked voice.

  “We also don’t have the resources to maintain your training and education knowing they will be useless. And as a noble son, sending you as an apprentice to a forge is completely out of the question.”

  He’s simply being honest, but even so anger builds inside me. I didn’t expect much help from him, but if he sent me as an apprentice at least my life would be settled.

  “People with crafting classes are usually well received. And I know the blacksmith class is quite uncommon. If I could learn from a blacksmith in the city, I could keep working with the family.”

  “No” - my father says while shaking his head -” sending you as an apprentice is out of the question. The best would be to expel you from the family now, but legally you’re under my care until you come of age and I won’t stain the family’s good name.”

  My blood runs cold thinking that if it were up to my father, he would expel me this very moment. His gaze is severe, but I always thought that behind his strict and distant behavior he loved us.

  “In any case, I’ll do what I can for you. Within the family grounds, near the forest behind the mansion, there is an old forge. It hasn’t been used for a few years, so it might need some repairs, but at least you’ll be able to use it to level up as much as you can. Besides that, you’ll have a small allowance so you can buy materials and get started. If you make something worthy of being sold, I’ll have one of the servants take it to the city. That’s all.”

  I swallow my anger and my words. I know they won’t have any effect, so I say the only thing I’m allowed to say in this situation.

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “Wait” - he tells me when I was already close to the door.

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  He stands and approaches me. He stops and draws his sword.

  “Relax” - he says when he sees the fear on my face - I think I’ve never told you the story of this sword. The king gave it to me after I slew a dragon.

  My father continues his story, but I feel a sharp pain in my head of an intensity I didn’t know was possible. When I look at the fine enchanted blade, I feel like I know what materials and methods were used to forge it just like I see people’s stats, but everything is too complex to understand and the information slips away as quickly as it comes, leaving me confused and tired.

  “I didn’t start as a paladin” - my father is saying when I manage to pay attention again - “believe it or not, my first class was a simple warrior, not even a swordsman like Rob and Fred. What I mean is, don’t give up, son.”

  With that he returns to his chair and I leave the room unable to hold back my tears any longer. At least I hope he didn’t see me cry.

  I thought I would barely be able to sleep, however I reached the bed exhausted and the sun surprised me sooner than expected. With no desire at all, I got out of bed to start the day. Memories of my father’s conversation and my sister comforting me and bringing me to my room crowd my mind.

  I run into my father when I go to get something for breakfast. His gaze feels colder than usual and I’m unable to look him in the eyes, as if I weren’t good enough for him.

  “Good morning” - I greet my brother Fred when entering the dining room.

  “Hi. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes.”

  “Our brothers send greetings and encouragement. A letter arrived from them today from the capital. They say they’ll soon make an incursion into the southern dungeon and won’t be able to communicate for a while, at least a couple of weeks if all goes well.”

  A maid places a plate in front of me. When she sets it down, I think I notice something in her gaze, but I’m not sure.

  “The southern one is where all the minotaur meat comes from, right?”

  “Yes. It’s not high level, but it’s still a tough dungeon, and there’s always demand for meat. I wish our dungeons gave something that useful.”

  Silence settles between us while we finish breakfast consisting of oatmeal porridge and a glass of wine for my brother. We both know our dungeons bring more expenses than profit.

  “Rob and I are still trying to find something that lets us get more benefit from one of the three dungeons under our charge, but almost all the materials we get have fallen out of use.”

  “Just reducing the maintenance cost of the dungeons would already help a lot. At least we could maintain them without them generating so many expenses.”

  “What a smart brother I have!” - he exclaims while ruffling my hair - “Don’t worry, we’ll think of something. I think Lord Porten will be waiting to show you the forge.”

  “And to think he’s only 10 years old, what a waste” - my brother murmurs behind me without me hearing it.

  Lord Porten, our butler, waits for me at the exit of the dining room to accompany me.

  “The forge hasn’t been used since the lord’s grandfather’s time, but the building has been maintained as part of the mansion grounds. It might need some repairs, but it should be in acceptable condition.”

  It always amuses me to see how he strokes his mustache while thinking.

  “Honestly, it’s not like I know anything about how to forge a sword.”

  “Young master, a sword is very complex to forge. If you allow me, you should start with simple things that require little material to increase your level and your knowledge. In the library we have some books on the subject that I hope will help you get started.”

  “Thank you, Porten” - I say while feeling a warm sensation spread through my chest.

  “Then let’s go.”

  I thought my family would completely turn their backs on me, but it seems I’ll at least have a decent starting point. If I manage to increase my level enough, maybe I’ll be able to be useful enough, or perhaps even unlock a new class.

  I remain lost in my thoughts when we arrive at a building. I had never seen it because it’s hidden among the trees, about a 20-minute walk from the mansion. It’s in much better condition than I expected, at least on the outside, and it even has a fairly large addition used as storage.

  “Here is your allowance for getting started. Try not to waste it; materials can be very expensive. The books should already be inside. You may continue using your room in the mansion, but there should be an old cot inside the building if you ever need it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Thank you, Porten. I’ll try to spend as little as possible. And thank you very much for the books.”

  With a respectful nod, Lord Porten returns to the mansion. The simple fact that he personally accompanied me tells me he supports me. Even if it’s only moral support, I’m grateful to know he still cares about me.

  There are several things I want to do. Reading the books should be a priority; after all, right now I only have a general idea of how to operate a forge. My past knowledge helps, but it’s nowhere near enough. In fact, most of it is more theoretical than practical.

  But first things first. I need to see the real condition of the forge and what I need to get it running.

  “How much strength does it take to handle a forge?”

  I ask no one in particular while looking at my arms, suspecting the answer won’t make me very happy.

  The building’s door is a bit broken and rickety, but it works well enough to be at the bottom of my list. The facade is covered in vines, but it stands firm and it’s clear regular maintenance has been done.

  The interior, on the other hand, is dirty, dark, and depressing. At a glance it’s clear this is not the forge itself but the kitchen and dining area assigned to the blacksmith. The door that led to the room no longer exists, so I decide to inspect the room first. There are two beds and a large wooden chest to store clothes. It’s small and dirty, but it could be useful at some point.

  My hands tremble when it’s time to open the forge door. Curiously, this door is in much better condition than the outer one and is clearly more robust. When I try to open it, I notice the wood has swollen, making the process harder, but I finally manage to push it open only to be greeted by a cloud of dust that makes me sneeze.

  The whole house is dark because it’s shaded by trees, but the forge room has no windows and the doors are designed to fit perfectly and not let light through, making fire the only light source.

  When my eyes adjust to the darkness, I finally see the workshop. It’s surprisingly well preserved. I approach the large furnace, passing by a sturdy table. It’s clearly been used many times and the stone even has burned parts, but it remains solid. I lean in and notice an object.

  Since it’s too dark, I decide to grab it, but even before touching it I start to notice it radiates heat. Realizing what it is, I focus to send a bit of the magical power I discovered just a week ago. It’s a strange sensation, but at the same time it feels natural. The object absorbs the energy I send and the heat increases noticeably, and it begins to glow, allowing me to see the rest of the workshop.

  I feel completely drained. I get dizzy and end up on my knees before realizing it. It takes me a while to recover, and when I do I realize I used all my energy at once. The worst part is that the heat it gives off isn’t nearly enough, but at least it’s a start.

  With the newly gained light, a covered bundle catches my attention. Of the entire building, it’s clearly what the most care was taken to preserve, so I deduce it must be important. When I approach, I see it’s actually two bundles, one on top of the other. I get excited realizing what they must be, and my suspicions are confirmed when I unwrap the first and find a perfectly preserved hammer. It weighs more than I’d like to admit.

  As I observe it, I begin to understand certain things. The head is made of steel, basically the same as what was used in my old world, although I think it has something else I can’t understand. The handle, on the other hand, is made of trent wood, probably because of its heat resistance. It’s a relatively rare material obtained in dungeons; even my father has a cane made of the same material. Somehow I understand how it was made, at least superficially. All of this reminds me of my father’s sword the day before.

  I focus my attention on the second bundle and my hopes are not disappointed. It’s a beautiful and enormous anvil. I feel a huge urge to hug it that I barely manage to contain. I still haven’t seen how much money they gave me, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be enough to buy all this. I run my fingers over the anvil, caressing it, and notice something my eyes couldn’t see in the dim light.

  The anvil has engravings all over its surface except for the top area. Without light I can’t know exactly what they mean, but my instinct tells me they are important. I’m convinced that if I could provide them with enough energy, I’d be able to activate them.

  I observe it carefully and begin to understand it.

  Runic Forge Anvil.

  The name appears in my mind as if it had always been there.