Chapter 306 - A Blacksmith in Hell

'Whoever this guy is, he's old. Maybe even older than the gatekeeper.'

Rynold's observations were on point as the elderly gentleman stepped into the light. He revealed himself to Rynold, much to the latter's suspicions. Because, whoever this guy was, Rynold had reason to believe he would kill Rynold if given the chance. While it hadn't happened just yet, there was no doubt in Rynold's mind that it would. The question now is when.

"I'm sure you heard me," Rynold responded to the guy's question, "You know, the Mech God? It's pretty straightforward, even if you haven't heard of the guy. Who do you even think could've made something like the sigil on me?"

"No part of your response answered my question," the man responded, ever so curious about Rynold's appearance in the dark and dreary cave, "However, if what you said is indeed true. Then, I have no reason to keep you in chains, lest I gain the fury of a god."

"Why don't I believe a word you just said?" Rynold remained skeptical, not falling for what so obviously appeared to be a trap.

"And you think I believe in yours?" he responded, waving his hand. The grip on Rynold's limb loosened, allowing him to roam about freely. Of course, Rynold couldn't do so without an eloquently stated warning. "Do not be foolish. I have no reason to trust someone from Hell, let alone one who spreads the words of meeting a god you had so clearly made up."

"That's hilarious," Rynold chuckled as he mocked, "I should say the same for you, geezer. If anything, you're the one from Hell, not me. Judging by how you look, you've been here for how long? Hm? A few thousand years? A few million, maybe? As for me, well, I just got here."

As Rynold stood in the same spot before, he watched as the man before him narrowed his eyes. The curious became more and more intrigued by what Rynold was saying. Although, Rynold, on the other hand, just got increasingly wary. The situation was developing rapidly, after all.

"You're human?"

"Yeah," Rynold responded, "What's so wrong about that?"

"No wonder," the man nodded before turning around and walking away from Rynold. The man had trailed off, leaving Rynold all by his lonesome. Rynold, on the other hand, was somewhat skeptical of the less-than-hostile approach. He didn't even consider that the man was going on well intentions. Instead, Rynold took every precaution he could. Starting with checking his immediate surroundings, Rynold gathered information.

'Runes. All over the walls,' Rynold noticed as he infused Mana into his eyes, 'Heh. Talk about paranoia to the max.'

Rynold didn't even have to stare very long to see the extensive runes on the lair's walls. It was excessive, near-impenetrable. That was if Rynold were a Hell-based creature. For humans, Rynold didn't see any other runes aside from standard protection ones. Even then, it still seemed to serve the same purpose. The runes were there to keep the devils out.

Whatever the case, Rynold had reason to believe that he was safe here. Well, at least, for the time being, he was. The runes and warding in place were more than capable of doing so. Unfortunately, there was another threat that was more immediate.

"So, I've been thinking!" Rynold called out as he started walking towards where the man had left, "You're a lot different than the other devils, aren't you?! It's not every day a devil would hesitate from killing something right in front of them. Which, one way or another, begs the question."

"You talk too much," the man responded from one of the rooms.

"I know. I have a habit of thinking out loud. But, hey. I'm trying to make a point here."

"And, what's that?"

"Aren't you-? No, wait," Rynold paused to rephrase his sentence, "You're not a devil. I think. Otherwise, you would've jumped at the first opportunity and killed me already. That and a couple of other things make me think so."

"Interesting deduction," the man responded without looking away from what he was doing. "However, it is nothing more than speculation."

"But you aren't denying it, either," Rynold answered without skipping a beat, "It's a stretch, I admit. But, given everything you've done up until now. And, well, you're not even sweating when you're standing so close to that forge over there. So, with enough evidence built up, I'd like to think I'm right. Besides, if you don't want me to give you the benefit of the doubt, we can fight."

"A fight? How primitive."

"Really? Cause-"

Before Rynold could respond, the man flicked his left hand. It caused Rynold to skate back. The heels of Rynold's shoes left scuffed marks on the floor as Rynold sat his ass onto a chair. Rynold's expression perplexed, caught off-guard with what had just happened.

"You suggest such a thing when you can't even see where you were standing?" the man dropped his hands to his side as he turned around and faced Rynold, "This is my domain, kid. I don't think you have a clue where you are. And what I can do. You ought to know who you are facing."

"Okay, okay. You've got me," Rynold admitted defeat, "But, you're still not going to kill me."

"Even in your condition, you still believe things will go well?"

"Yeah. I do," Rynold nodded with a straight face, "Because you're not a killer. You don't have that eye for killing anybody unless push comes to shove. And, with that arm? Heh. You've got me beat, sure. But you won't last a second outside of your domain."

Referring to the man's wooden right arm, Rynold slowly realized something. While he couldn't ascertain as to what the realization was, his instinct was telling him that the man was not at all unfamiliar. No. It was like Rynold knew the guy before he had even met him.

"I made this arm myself," the man suddenly seemed offended but quickly recovered, "While your assumptions are not entirely false, it's still far from the whole story. This wooden arm? It's served me well. More than your short life would ever experience."

"So, you lost it in an accident?"

"You could say that," the man nodded as he clutched his upper right arm. From the way Rynold saw it, the loss of the man's right arm was more than a physical loss. Something was there. He could sense it. Rynold took note of this experience as a step in figuring things out.

"Heh," Rynold changed the subject with an awkward chuckle, "All of this. The weapons, equipment, armor, tools. You're a craftsman?"

"A blacksmith," the man raised a brow as his left hand dropped to his side, "Before you say anything, no, I will not make you any weapons."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Rynold scoffed, "I trust the weapons I make. I wouldn't even consider using Mana-resistant weapons. Wow. You can make those with scrap?"

"How could you-?"

"Tell?" Rynold interrupted, "Having made something like that a long time ago, it's pretty easy to spot it from afar. Well, mostly it's because there's no Mana coming off of it. Come to think of it. There are only a few things here that are screaming Mana. They're nowhere near the weapon pile."

"Interesting," the man canceled whatever binding that was on Rynold, "There is more to you than meets the eye."

"God, I hope so," Rynold pushed his ass off the seat and stood up, "Wouldn't want everything about me to be out in the open."

"Indeed," the man nodded in agreement, "I must admit, though, it is refreshing to see someone of the same interests. It had been far too long since I had shared such company."

As the man said that, his right wooden hand flinched. There was something deep that seemed to have traumatized the guy, leading to the loss of his arm. Rynold connected the dots, narrowing his eyes as he speculated with great thought.

"Have we met before?" Rynold asked, knowing full well the answer would be no.

"I have been here even before you have been born, kid," the man answered, confused with the sudden question. "I'm sure you know that."

"Yeah, no. I know," Rynold nodded, closing on his conclusion. It was on the tip of his tongue. Rynold really only needed one last thing before he could say it. His eyes dotted around the room out of sheer coincidence. And, for some reason, his line of sight stayed on the forge for more than a second. "How are you keeping that fire with no kindle wood?" Rynold asked.

"Fire runes," the man answered, thinking that Rynold would've already known that.

"Yeah. But fire runes are notorious for lack of precise temperature control. In my case, I need the help of a..."

At that moment, Rynold finally got to the end of his very convoluted, very thorough train of thought. His expression relaxed, widening in realization. Rynold then looked over to the man, eyes wide open.

"You're the guy."