BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Even though the city was bathed in the artificial glow of its lights, the expansive maze that was Testrovsc’s Rest gave off the impression that it was teeming with activity. The sound of rhythmic hammering from blacksmiths at their forges, combined with the talk of merchants selling their wares, filled the area around Erik with sound.

The young man said to himself, “Guess this city never sleeps,” as he walked across the metropolis.

After he had finished his business with the Porter Company, he found himself wandering through the complex shopping district of the city.

Each shop window displayed an impressive array of shining weaponry, ranging from longswords with delicately wrought hilts to recurve bows with perfectly constructed limbs.

However, despite the plethora of options available, Erik departed each store with a sense of dissatisfaction. Some of the weapons, although having spectacular aesthetics, needed to have the proper balance.

Although skillfully designed, the others failed to strike a chord with him on a more fundamental level.

The ones that did attract his attention were prohibitively costly, particularly those infused with brain crystal powers. This technology was still in its infancy, so the items made with it were priced extremely high.

When he was on the verge of giving in to the rising frustration he was experiencing, his attention was drawn to a bit of business. A sign hung from the ceiling that said “Matthias’ Blades.

“The only display was a single blade perched on a pedestal made of oak placed in the window. Its subtle shine gave the impression that it was more solid than the glitzy products sold in other shops.

A bell quietly sounded as Erik opened the door, signaling his arrival and declaring his presence. The shop had low lighting, which gave the variety of firearms and other weapons a warm, golden color.

An elderly gentleman, who appeared to be Matthias, gazed up from where he was while meticulously cleaning a dagger. His eyes were clear and perceptive despite their appearance of aging.

Matthias welcomed Erik, saying, “Good evening, young man,” with a warm, gravelly voice. “What brings you in to visit us today?”

As Erik made his way toward the counter, he gazed over the assortment of weapons, each of which was a striking example of expert craftsmanship. “I’ve been looking for a weapon, but so far, nothing’s felt right,” he said.

With a solemn nod, Matthias acknowledged that he understood the crux of Erik’s difficulties. “For a mercenary, a weapon is more than just a tool; it is an extension of themselves and their identity. Having a weapon suited for its owner is important when mana cannot be counted upon.”

In an instant, Erik saw in Matthias a kindred spirit. The wise elderly guy expressed eloquently what Erik had been thinking and feeling all along.

Matthias handed Erik a sword with a well-made hilt. “Why don’t you give this one a try?” The older man said to the pupil-ranked mercenary.

As soon as Erik took hold of the weapon, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia. However, even though the weight and balance were almost perfect, there was still the feeling that something was off.

Erik replied, “It’s a beautiful piece, but it’s not quite what I’m after,” with a trace of disappointment in his voice.

Matthias, a seasoned veteran of dealing with the many preferences of combatants, nodded knowingly in acknowledgment. “Well, we do have other options,” he remarked as he moved into another area with various blades while gesturing for Erik to follow him.

Erik watched him, and with each step, he felt a fresh surge of optimism. He was eager to find the one weapon that would make him feel like he was using an extension of himself. ．𝙘𝙤𝙢

Erik’s initial joy started to wane as he tested various weapons, but he was still curious. Even though each blade was a work of art in its own right, he could not find one that spoke to him more profoundly.

After demonstrating another weapon by flinging it into the air, he returned it to Matthias and commented, “It’s a work of art, really, but it’s not exactly what I’m looking for.”

Matthias was unaffected by Erik’s refined palate, and he merely nodded in response. “I am aware of that.” After that, he went to a separate exhibit and chose a new blade with a distinct shine and a more detailed pattern. “Perhaps this one will appeal to you more than the others.”

After giving it a few test swings, Erik could determine the weight of the blade. However, despite his high hopes, this one did not live up to what he was searching for again.

He carefully set it back on the counter, stating, “The craftsmanship is extraordinary, again, as with all the weapons you showed me until now, but I have something particular in mind.”

Matthias gave Erik a contemplative gaze while drumming his fingers softly on the wooden counter. “If you can’t find what you’re looking for, have you considered having something made specifically for you?”

After hearing the proposal, Erik’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You do that too?”

“Of course,” Matthias stated unequivocally. “But making a customized order is a labor-intensive procedure. We will need to ensure that every facet is in accordance with what you wish, and it will require time.”

Erik’s response was, “That’s fine by me. I would love to place a custom order. Who exactly is the master bladesmith who created these tools, by the way?”

“My son, Fabian,” Matthias said with a tone of pride in his voice. “Since he was young, he has been working hard to improve his skills. He gained knowledge from the very best,” he said, smirking and referring to himself.

The more Erik learned, the more curious he became. “Can I talk to him? I believe having a straight conversation about the particulars with the artisan would be the best option.”

Matthias gave a tiny shake of the head. “At this moment, he is unable to meet you. But I can arrange a meeting if you’re serious about having a custom order.”

“I am serious,” Erik affirmed. “When would be a good time to schedule a meeting?”

Matthias checked on a tablet, which he mainly used to schedule appointments, including various notes and dates. “The 15th of April—how does that date sound? It’s a Wednesday.”

“That works for me,” Erik said firmly.

Before Erik left, Matthias offered additional advice on what to consider regarding design and functionality for their upcoming meeting.

As Erik walked outside the shop, he felt a surge of adrenaline and exhilaration, not just for the weapon he would have a hand in designing but also for the possibility of working with a genuine craftsman such as Fabian.