BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Time had flown by in the two days since Erik’s unexpected meeting at the inn. The city of Testrovsc’s Rest was teeming with activity as the early sun painted the sky a gentle hue. Children ran crazily through the crowds, playing morning games.

At the same time, street merchants shouted out to passing customers and displayed their products.

Adjusting his cloak, Erik walked out of the hotel. The fresh morning air was revitalizing, tinged with the subtle metallic aroma that lingered wherever blacksmith shops were present. He followed the steady beat of hammers on anvils as it resonated through the narrow streets.

The city’s buildings were a hodgepodge of styles, ranging from ancient stone structures to newer ones made of cement and brick. Erik was occasionally reminded of the city’s thriving nightlife by the discarded shoes and upturned glasses that littered the streets. 𝘰𝑣𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

As he navigated through the maze of streets, he noticed the gradual increase in weapon shops and armories, signaling his proximity to Matthias’s Blades, the shop he was in two days prior.

The familiar sign, carved intricately with the image of a gleaming sword, swung gently in the morning breeze as he approached.

A queue of warriors and mercenaries formed outside the store to examine the wares and debate the relative advantages and disadvantages of the various weapons on display.

Their armors made a soothing metallic symphony as they moved. Erik, however, was interested in something other than the shown objects but rather in acquiring a unique piece.

The bell overhead chimed quietly as he pulled open the sturdy oak door. As he entered the shops, he saw that the inside was dark but covered from floor to ceiling in knives, swords, and other lethal instruments.

Matthias, recognizing Erik immediately from their previous encounter, greeted him with a warm nod.

“Ah, you’re here for your meeting with Fabian,” he said, beckoning him further into the shop. Erik could feel the anticipation building; he was one step closer to obtaining the perfect weapon.

Erik politely nodded, saying, “Good morning, sir.” Recognizing the moment’s importance, he continued, “Indeed, I am here for our scheduled appointment.”

“Good, then follow me, we will go to the forge. My son is there.”

Without any delay, Matthias, with a gesture of his hand, led Erik through a narrow passage that opened up into a vast workshop behind the shop.

The clang of metal on metal grew louder, and the warmth from the furnaces engulfed the space. Amidst the organized chaos, a young man, broad-shouldered with dark hair, was intently working on a blade, his hands moving with practiced precision.

“Fabian,” Matthias called out, capturing the younger man’s attention.

The blacksmith looked up, his face smeared with soot but eyes sharp and inquisitive. Setting down his tools, he approached the two men, wiping his hands on a rough cloth. “Ah, you must be Erik,” he said, extending a firm handshake.

“Dad mentioned your request. You want a custom weapon, am I right?”

Erik nodded, feeling the weight of the younger blacksmith’s gaze. “That’s right. I need a Flyssa, and I was hoping you could craft one to my specifications.”

Fabian’s brow rose slightly in interest. “A Flyssa, you say? It’s not a common request, but certainly doable.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “As for materials, we have several options.” He began to list them: “Eshalt, Vordium, Prenstal, Quorilite, Aclaitrium, Larnox, Terphine, Bristalite, Mernium, and lastly, Dranstone. These are rather common ores; if you need something more sophisticated, we would need more time to find the materials.”

Erik took note of the variety of materials mentioned; Eshalt was a well-known, low-quality ore, while Aclaitrium was renowned for its strength, flexibility, and good mana conductive qualities.

Fabian continued, “The price can fluctuate based on the length of the blade, design intricacies, and the chosen one. But we will ensure the end product is worth every Eurem.”

Understanding the constraints, Erik said, “I appreciate the options. However, I have a budget of 130,000 Eurems. Can we design something exceptional within that range?”

Fabian paused for a moment, calculating. Then, with a confident nod, he responded, “With that budget, we can craft a Flyssa that won’t just meet but exceed your expectations. Let’s discuss the specifics.” Ironing out all the design details took the two men an hour.

Fabian leaned back, deep in concentration, after taking notes on Erik’s requirements and discussing the finer points of the blade’s design and the materials to be utilized.

He stopped for a second to do a mental cost analysis, factoring in the number of hours of work and the price of the materials he had settled on.

“After taking everything into account,” Fabian began, his voice steady, “the price would come to around 123,000 Eurems. Does that work for you?”

Erik, pondering the sum and the promised craftsmanship, nodded in agreement. “Yes, that will be acceptable.”

With the deal finalized, Fabian extended his hand again, his grip firm and filled with the promise of delivering a masterwork. “Thank you for entrusting us with this project. I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.”

Returning the handshake, Erik responded, “I believe I’ve made the right choice.” With that, he excused himself from Fabian and returned to the front of the store.

There, he was met by the familiar face of Matthias, who was carefully organizing a display of newly finished blades. Noticing Erik, the older blacksmith paused and addressed him.

After a short talk, Matthias said, “Given the specific requirements and the quality you seek, crafting your Flyssa will be meticulous. I expect it’ll take us at least a month.”

Erik nodded in understanding. “Quality work takes time,” he remarked.

“Indeed, it does,” Matthias agreed, then hesitated momentarily. “To update you on the progress and inform you once the blade is ready, may I have your phone number?”

Erik readily provided his contact details, trusting that the information would be used responsibly. “Call me once it’s ready, and I’ll come to collect it,” he said.

Matthias scribbled down the number, nodding his affirmation. “Of course, young man. We’ll be in touch.”

Erik ensured everything was ready before leaving to gain a sword from Fabian’s skilled hands. The prospect of owning such a weapon was thrilling.

As he stepped out of Matthias’s Blades, the shop Fabian worked in with his father, he was greeted by the warm afternoon sun. The city’s bustle and activity looked even more vibrant and energized. Erik continued his journey with anticipation for the future and the creation of his new weapon.