A Stop at the Blacksmith’s

Now, where was Uncle Barry’s house again?

Navigating the village’s narrow alleys, South Creek, a small bundle strapped to her back, sought out her destination.

Since the incident at the church, the Beard family had indeed ceased their harassment. However, what proved even stranger was Jack’s disappearance; he, who had unfailingly attended Mr. Lister’s lessons every day, had vanished without a trace. Even when specifically questioned, Mr. Lister merely shook his head, offering no words.

Today, however, Mr. Lister was not in the village, so his usual lessons were not being held. Ordinarily, South Creek would have been holed up in her room, diligently studying spells, making the most of this rare day off. Yet, perhaps due to the increasingly cold weather, the number of villagers falling ill had significantly surpassed the usual.

Elise, being only one person, found herself overwhelmed by the sheer volume of patients requiring treatment, leaving her no choice but to send South Creek out to deliver herbal remedies to those less severely afflicted.

Ah, there it is.

Barry was the finest blacksmith in the village; most of the farming tools used by the villagers were crafted by his hands. A craftsman who spent his days forging iron naturally possessed an impressive physique, so much so that he was rumored to be able to lift a full-grown Lulu (a domestic animal closely resembling a pig) with his bare hands.

That such a man could fall ill was quite unexpected to South Creek.

“Uncle Barry, your herbs have arrived.”

“Oh! Coming, coming!”

A booming response echoed from within the house, the robust voice instantly making South Creek wonder if he was truly ailing.

“Sister Elise prescribed these herbs for you. Take them three times a day as directed, and you’ll be feeling better in a few days.”

“Ah, thank you for your trouble, little one. I had intended to fetch them myself, but alas, the sheer volume of orders lately has left me entirely unable to spare a moment…”

The brawny man, his physique seemingly carved from stone, pushed open the blacksmith’s door. A hearty smile graced his face, his beard slightly upturned, and traces of sweat glistened on his bronzed skin. Towering over South Creek by a considerable height, he exuded an even greater sense of imposing presence.

“It truly shames me to have such a young lass deliver my medicine… Why not rest a while in my shop? I happen to have some fresh Lulu jerky and a few candied fruits.”

[Jerky? Candied fruits?]

A faint chord was plucked within her heart. South Creek discreetly swallowed; Pastor Elise, a staunch advocate of frugality and health, would never allow her such snacks.

“No, thank you, Uncle Barry. I still have other herbs to deliver.”

“Don’t be so formal. You know, a man my age can’t truly enjoy these snacks meant for children. If they sit too long, they’ll just have to be thrown out… Sitting here with your old uncle for a bit won’t delay you at all.”

“Well, I… I…”

“Don’t be shy! If you want some, just come on in!”

Before South Creek could even finish deliberating, Barry unceremoniously pulled her inside.

“Whoa! Wait, I—”

Barry’s blacksmith shop, which also served as his living quarters, was not the chaotic jumble of scrap metal and tools South Creek had envisioned. Instead, it was remarkably tidy, with every implement neatly arranged in its designated spot, and the workspace distinctly separated from the living area.

Stepping into the parlor, South Creek’s gaze immediately fell upon the jerky and candied fruits laid out on the table. However, her attention did not linger long on the snacks. From the passageway connecting the parlor to the shop, the rhythmic clang of a hammer on iron could be heard.

“That’s my apprentice, Wede, forging iron. To become a competent blacksmith, fundamental practice is absolutely essential.”

Sensing South Creek’s curious gaze, Barry chuckled as he explained, then gently took her small hand and led her to sit beside him on the parlor’s long bench.

“Here, have some sweet jerky. The village chief gave it to me last time he was here having some tools made.”

“Oh… Thank you, Uncle.”

As she chewed the jerky, her eyes surveyed the surrounding furnishings. South Creek was suddenly reminded of the snacks she had eaten in her previous world. In stark contrast to their vivid flavors, the jerky in her mouth possessed no strong taste. Yet, its subtly rich, non-greasy aroma and faint sweetness truly offered a unique delight, especially after she had endured a prolonged period of bland meals. It was almost profoundly moving.

“Haha, is it good? Don’t hold back, eat as much as you like!”

Watching South Creek devour the treat with such absorption, Barry couldn’t help but burst into laughter. With one hand, he offered her a few more candied fruits, while with the other, he wiped away the fresh sweat beading on his brow.

“I hear Pastor Elise has been terribly busy lately. Every time someone in the village, be it for a major ailment or a minor one, needs healing, they seek her out. She does so much for the village and works so tirelessly; she’s truly a goddess incarnate on earth…”

Munching on her snacks while listening to Barry speak, South Creek wasn’t truly paying close attention to his words. She had long grown tired of the villagers’ praises for Elise; they were always the same few phrases, so much so that she could probably recite them herself.

“Thinking about it, though I often benefit from her kindness, I’ve never truly repaid her. Perhaps if Pastor Elise ever has some free time…”

“Master, my training for today— Isn’t that South Creek? What brings you here?”

“Wede! You’ve finished your training for today? Two thousand hammer strikes? I don’t recall you usually being this quick!”

“My touch was exceptionally good today! I believe I’ll soon be able to forge proper iron tools myself.”

The sturdy young man who emerged from the forging room was Wede, the blacksmith’s apprentice. Bare-chested and drenched in sweat, he still gripped a dark iron hammer in his hand.

“Hello, Brother Wede!”

“Ah, hearing South Creek’s voice, I feel all the fatigue from forging just melt away!”

Grabbing a sweat-cloth hanging near the parlor, Wede swiftly wiped the perspiration from his body. He then washed his hands several times in a bucket, bent down to sniff, and only after confirming no unpleasant odor emanated from him, did he plop down beside South Creek.

“What, not with Pastor Elise? Coming to a place only rough men like us would tolerate— Don’t look at me like that, I won’t steal your snacks.”

“She’s delivering something to me on behalf of Pastor Elise… You scamp, can’t you ever act properly?”

“…Right, right.”

Completely oblivious to the sudden silence that had fallen, South Creek swallowed the candied fruit in her mouth. After savoring the taste and licking her lips, her gaze drifted towards the forging room beyond the door curtain.

Upon reflection, she mused that if she seized this opportunity to visit, she might catch a glimpse of some weapons. In the novels she had read, a well-suited sword could instantly elevate a protagonist’s charisma. Imagining herself wielding a magnificent longsword…

Just kidding, of course.

When it came to strength, she was perfectly self-aware. Forget a seven-foot longsword; her small frame couldn’t even lift a bucket of water. But if it was just to satisfy her curiosity…

“Uncle Barry, may I visit that room?”