Chapter 12: Chapter 12– The second Key holder.
After finding nothing else in the ruins, Leo started to head back to Ironhaven.
The sun was starting to set. Night was coming.
He didn’t want to be within these woods during the night; the monsters get a formidable boost at night and he would be out of his league.
The setting sun had dyed the sky in an orange hue.
Noticing the dimming light, he quickened his pace.
The forest thinned out and the town of Ironhaven finally came into his view.
As he walked towards the town, he came across many merchants who were returning to the town dragging their carts.
It was already evening so, the people entering the city were a lot more than people leaving the town.
He finally reached the gate and entered the town through the east gate.
The marketplace was still alive.
Merchants still had their stalls open. The whole city was folding into its evening routine, and Leo walked through the middle of it.
The quest notification was still blinking.
Second key ... someone who carried the echo of fires...
Hopefully I come across this person.
He reached the inn.
He lay in the bed lazily in his room.
"DISCONNECT"
......
Far across the woods in the eastern side of the continent.
A young man had not slept for two days.
Not because the game didn’t allow log out, but because he didn’t want to.
His name was Shen, a Talisman Warrior.
Shen had a lucky encounter and obtained a unique class good at forging talismans with equally powerful offensive and defensive abilities.
But the downside was, he had to complete missions after missions.
All related to his class.
However the downside of the class might have been a problem for others, but for him, it was of no issue because he was a game addict.
Even without the missions he would be playing 24 hours.
After leveling up endlessly and doing quest after quest he had finally reached level 10 and got a class advancement quest.
[Memory of First Fire]
But the quest didn’t offer any clues.
It was a dead end.
No description, no dungeon marker, no NPC to report to, no map pin.
He was stuck at level 10.
With nothing better to do, he had been crafting talismans for the past two days.
Four hundred and thirty-seven of them now, sorted in cases by his bed.
Twelve Epic Tier.
Two even the system couldn’t grade. But the resonance was different from Epic meaning they had to be higher tier than Epic. Probably Unique Tier.
Every quest in the past was an easy sail for him. Most of them were related to Talisman mastery, formation drawing, Ward setting, some even spatial inscription.
But this one....
He had no idea what it was about.....
He could only wait.
Like always he was crafting talismans.
He was randomly picking talismans to draw due to his boredom.
At this point he could draw these with his eyes closed.
He was halfway through drawing a new standard tracking formation when—
[Ding!]
[HIDDEN QUEST: MEMORY OF THE FIRST FIRE — UPDATE]
[A tracking formation will reveal what searching cannot. Draw the formation according to system guidelines and activate it. The fire leaves traces for those who know how to look.]
He read it once.
And immediately jumped up from his sitting position in excitement.
Finally some clues. About time now.
He looked at the half-finished formation on the ground, picked his brush up and got back to work.
He followed the vision shown by the system guidelines and drew the tracking formation. The formation was unique, nothing like he had seen before.
More complex. The lines intersected at angles that shouldn’t have worked geometrically but felt correct in some ways.
Sometimes correct and logical were two different things in talisman crafting. Things that don’t make sense suddenly starts making sense.
He completed the final stroke.
The formation flared to life.
A blinding light erupted forcing him to shut his eyes.
Then darkness.....
Few moments passed.
He started to see some visions.
It became clearer every passing second.
Then, he saw it.....
A giant majestic crown floating in the air above the tall building which looked like a massive forge.
The fire within the hearth of the forge- pure gold in color.
A figure stood at the center of the forge with a hammer in one hand and an incomplete sword in the other hand.
The figure had a golden fire blazing in his eyes.
He felt reverence towards the figure. He didn’t know who that person was, neither had he ever seen him, but for some reason, respect welled up from his bloodline. He felt like he needed to prostrate before this figure.
The vision shifted again.
What appeared in his vision wasn’t like previous memory but flashes of memories.
He saw the same forge again, but the forge which once stood majestic, was now in ruins.
Older, collapsed...
Like thousands of years had passed.
Collapsed structures, cracked walls and... dark black vitrified bricks around the center area.
At the center of the forge a figure sat crouching at the base pressing one bare palm flat against the stone pillar.
The figure was of a young boy.
The boy had a confused expression, like someone who didn’t know what they were doing.
The hand which was in contact with the stone emitted gold light and golden flame flickered in the boy’s eye.
The same golden fire that he saw in the eyes of the blacksmith who stood tall and proud in the majestic forge.
Then the vision dissolved.....
[Ding!]
[TRACKING WARD — ACTIVE]
[Thermal Signature Located: Ruined Forge, West of Ironhaven]
[Your class quest has flagged this location.]
[Ward will persist for 72 hours or until dismissed.]
So my quest is related to this forge and this boy.
He packed his bags, talisman cases rolled and sorted in order, he marked the route to Ironhaven.
He started his journey to Ironhaven.
.....
While Shen was traveling towards Ironhaven, Leo was in the real world within his smithy, scrolling through his phone browsing the news.
He had been living in the smithy almost every day now.
Leo was mentally tired as he had been through many scenarios in both the real world and in the game.
He lay on the bed and immediately fell asleep.
Next morning,
The morning light filtered through the window panes, lighting his room up.
The roosters and hens started their morning routine.
Cock-a-doodle-doooo...
Cock-a-doodle-doooo...
The cackling of the rooster woke Leo from his sleep.
He checked the time; it was around 6:47 in the morning.
He lay on the bed for a moment staring at the ceiling, letting his body remember the feel of the real world.
He got off the bed. Walked out of the room into the smithy.
The cold morning air from the smithy hit him. Leo took a deep breath embracing the cold air.
He headed to the bathroom to freshen up and shower.
Sitting on his bed, he scrolled through his phone with one hand while the other hand was over his head with a towel drying his hair.
Growl...
Leo paused for a moment.
He checked his fridge to find something to eat, but the fridge in his smithy was empty, with nothing but some drinks and water.
He shook his head, grabbed his wallet and checked.
It’s enough.
Leo could not remember the last time he had had a decent meal. It had been a very long time.
Leo dressed up lightly, and headed outside to have some breakfast.
As Leo made his way through the dim morning light, he came across a diner named "Martha’s Diner" three blocks away from his shop.
The diner was very old; Leo could only tell that it had always been there, probably from his father’s generation.
The sign board mentioning the diner’s name looked old, and some text had already faded away with time.
Leo pushed the door and walked inside. The door chimed with bells as he entered.
The diner was almost full of customers this early in the morning.
Booths were taken by construction workers and night-shift stragglers.
He found the last empty table by the window and sat down.
The smell of coffee filled the air.
He looked outside and saw that the sun had not yet risen properly.
Soon, a waitress appeared in front of Leo. Round face, efficient hands, the look of someone who had taken thousands of breakfast orders.
"Good morning, hon. What can I get you?"
He looked at the menu and said, "Full course of breakfast: eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, coffee—a lot of coffee."
The waitress could not help but raise an eyebrow seeing Leo order a mountain of food this early in the morning.
She still nodded and listed all the items Leo asked for and placed the order.
Leo sat back with a light mood.
He looked through the windowpane, waiting for the sun to shine through the city.
He saw the street slowly coming to life. A delivery truck being loaded with goods. A woman jogging around with her dog that stopped at every doorway investigating something.
For the first time in a while, he felt no urgency about anything.
He had no more burdens now.
No harm in a little bit of enjoyment.
The coffee arrived first.
Leo wrapped the coffee mug with both his hands, palms lightly placed on the mug’s surface, feeling the warmth.
He bent down towards the mug and sniffed the warm steam and took a sip.
The food came in waves—eggs, bacon... plates after plates—and soon the whole table was filled with plates.
Leo ate slowly as he reminisced about his father. About Saturday mornings, at a table similar to this, his father eating slowly. About his father reading the newspaper the old way—folded in quarters held by one hand while holding a cup of coffee in the other hand. Sipping the coffee bit by bit, making it last almost an hour.
The last time he had a hearty meal or anything close to it was with his father.
Leo ate everything clean. He got up and went to the counter to pay the bill; he even left a tip for the waitress.
"Long night, hon?" the waitress asked.
"Long month," Leo replied, and walked out.
The sun was up. The town was slowly waking up.
Leo did not head back to the smithy; instead, he took a turn, right around the corner and walked toward another shop.
The smell of fresh bread and cream hit him from half a block away.
Following the smell, he stepped inside the bakery.
Hearing the bell chime, the woman inside the bakery looked up. She was an older woman, around 50 years old, with streaked hair pulled into a bun.
Her hands showed signs that she had been in this business for a very long time.
Her name was Clement, and the bakery was known as Clement’s Bakery. The bakery had been around as long as Martha’s Diner.
No sign visible from the street, just the smell of bread and butter and sometimes cinnamon underneath the smell of bread.... Drifting out through the ventilation like inviting everyone to come inside.
Clement looked at Leo.
Her expression shifted... not in recognition of Leo but in finding something familiar in him.
Then... she compared the face to the man from her memories and something clicked in her mind.
"Well, well." She set down the tray. "Look who finally decided to stop by my shop?" the woman asked with a chuckle.
Leo blinked in surprise. "Sorry, you know me?"
She wiped her dough-covered hands on her apron, "You’re Thomas Stone’s boy, aren’t you?"
Leo was surprised to hear his father being mentioned. "You knew my dad?"
"Everyone knew your dad. Your father was a kind man; he did a lot of good deeds. He also lent me a hand when I needed it," she talked a lot about his father.
She carefully looked at Leo from top to bottom. "Well, well, well, you do have your father’s build—you’ve got his shoulders and jaws."
She pulled two rolls from the basket near her and put them in a plastic wrapping and gave them to Leo.
"This one is on the house."
Leo coughed lightly. "Ahem... Thank you."
Leo added, "Can I get two more rolls and a loaf of rye? How much is it?"
The woman wanted to refuse taking money, but Leo quickly handed the money with a look that said, "I am not taking anything for free."
The woman could only sigh and take the money.
Leo tucked the bag under his arm and headed to the smithy.
He was half a block away from the smithy.
Then he saw .....
A black sedan, parked at the corner.
Engine off. Windows tinted dark enough to not let anyone see inside the car.
If it was any other car, he would not have given it a look. But he suddenly felt something bothering him.
He kept walking at the same pace.
Since when did my neighborhood have someone who could afford a car like that?
Who does that belong to?
He passed beside the car.
He didn’t hear the engine.
The window remained closed.
Nothing.
Don’t look at it, don’t slow down. Don’t give them anything to read.
The car just sat there with patience.
He recalled the man in the suit who called himself an investor. He remembered their conversation and recalled his wording about the reality not being safe.
Leo felt a chill run down his spine.
He turned a corner.
Leo stopped as soon as he turned. His back pressed against the brick, he waited....
He waited with patience but neither the door opened, nor the engine was turned on.
The car didn’t follow.
But something was telling him that it was them. The investors.
He walked the rest of the way in fear, checking everything he came across.
Leo made too many detours going in circles before finally reaching the smithy. He unlocked the door. Stepped inside and carefully locked the door.
He set the bag aside and watched the car for a while. Only after the car pulled away did Leo relax.
What do they want from me?
He didn’t have an answer. He put the bread in the rack and sat down releasing a long sigh.
He checked again and found no sedan or any car parked there.
Only then did Leo log in.
"CONNECT."
