Chapter 35: Damir's Battle Iron Shop

The rhythmic clang of hammer striking metal reverberated through the air as Aria and Arlo stepped into Damir's shop. The scent of burning coal and molten steel clung to every surface, mingling with the faint tang of enchanted oils. Sparks danced like fireflies in the dim light, casting fleeting shadows on walls lined with weapons of every conceivable design—axes with serrated edges, swords etched with glowing runes, and shields adorned with crests that seemed to pulse with latent power.

At the heart of the forge stood a figure that could have been plucked straight from Arlo's gaming memories. The dwarf's broad shoulders strained against his leather apron, his arms thick as tree trunks and glistening with sweat. Red hair, wild and streaked with soot, framed a face dominated by a beard so dense it seemed to swallow his neck. When he turned, golden eyes—sharp as freshly honed blades—locked onto them.

"Aria! By the molten forges, it's been too long!" Damir's voice boomed like thunder, shaking dust from the rafters. He tossed his hammer onto an anvil with a deafening clang and strode forward, arms wide.

Aria barely had time to brace herself before he scooped her into a bear hug, lifting her off her feet. Her boots dangled comically above the floor as Damir's laughter rumbled through the shop.

Arlo coughed into his fist, half to clear the smoke from his lungs and half to signal his presence. Damir set Aria down and turned, his gaze narrowing as if noticing Arlo for the first time.

"And who's this lad?" the dwarf barked, though his tone held more curiosity than accusation.

Aria gestured toward Arlo. "This is Arlo, my trainee pioneer. He's shown great promise recently."

Damir's beard split into a grin. "Potential, eh?" Before Arlo could react, the dwarf closed the distance and yanked him into a hug that crushed the air from his lungs. Arlo's arms flailed, his face turning crimson as Damir's biceps squeezed like industrial vices.

"Good lad!" he roared. Arlo gasped for air, feeling his ribs protest under the dwarf's iron grip.

"G-good… to… meet… you—" Arlo wheezed, his voice strangled.

"Darmir, let him go before you actually kill him," Aria said, her voice calm but firm.

Darmir released Arlo, who staggered back, gasping. "Strong grip, eh?"

Darmir chuckled. "You'll make a fine pioneer, boy. Name's Darmir Caskgrog." He extended a hand for a proper handshake this time, which Arlo cautiously accepted.

Arlo rubbed his chest, shooting Aria a look that screamed traitor. "You're… uh… surprisingly agile for someone built like a brick wall," he managed, earning another booming laugh.

"Short but strong, lad! That's the Caskgrog way!" Damir winked, his golden eyes crinkling. "Now, Aria says you need gear. Let's see what we can do for a scrawny thing like you."

Aria shook her head with an amused smile. "Darmir, we're here for a reason. I need you to help kit Arlo out with some new gear—something subtle but effective for his line of work."

Darmir rubbed his beard thoughtfully, nodding. "Ah, so you need my craftsmanship, eh? Say no more. Come with me, lad. Let's see what suits you."

As Darmir led them deeper into the shop, Arlo whispered to Aria, "Does he always hug people like that? Or was that just for me?"

Aria chuckled. "Consider it a compliment. He doesn't usually take to people so quickly."

Still catching his breath, Arlo muttered, "Lucky me."

His gaze wandered around the shop, filled with an assortment of weapons, armor, and intricate trinkets. Something told him this was going to be an interesting experience.

.....

[Battle Iron Shop: Interior]

The shop's interior unfolded like a treasure trove for warriors. Racks of armor gleamed under enchanted lanterns—chest plates embossed with snarling beasts, gauntlets lined with razor-sharp spikes, and helms adorned with plumes that shimmered unnaturally.

Damir leaned back slightly, his hands on his hips as he surveyed Arlo and Aria. "So, what's the plan here, lass? Why'd you bring the lad to my shop?"

Aria gestured toward Arlo. "We're looking for some gear for him something subtle, nothing bulky. Maybe rings, trinkets, or bracelets to enhance his stats without compromising his mobility."

Damir nodded thoughtfully. "Ah, stealthy type, eh? Got it. Let me show you what I have."

He walked to a large rack filled with armor and trinkets, motioning for Arlo to follow.

As Damir began pulling out various items, Arlo immediately noticed most of them were heavy and metallic. The blacksmith proudly presented an intricately crafted chest plate.

"Not really my style," Arlo said, grimacing. He gestured at the heavy armor. "I'm a bit more... nimble. This would slow me down."

Damir stroked his beard, seemingly unbothered by the rejection. "Fair enough. You need something concealed, then?"

"Exactly," Arlo said, nodding.

The dwarf clapped his hands. "Got just the thing. Follow me."

He led them to a smaller display case filled with ornate rings, bracelets, and necklaces. The collection shimmered under the shop's light.

Arlo's eyes caught on a particularly intricate bracelet. "What about this one?"

Damir glanced at the bracelet and grinned. "You've got a good eye, lad. That's the Seraphim Bracelet ."

He pulled it out carefully. "Mithril craftsmanship, runic inscriptions for added flair, and practical as all hell."

Arlo activated his [Observe] and inspected the item: 

Seraphim Bracelet [Unique]

Bracelet. Level 9

Durability: 100/100

Stats: +5 Endurance

Effect: Energy Shield (scales with mana input), Magical Deflection (30% resistance)

Description: A bracelet made of mithril metal and inscribe with runic magic that have been crafted by the master craftsman Damir.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "This has solid stats. What's the shield like?"

Damir gestured for Arlo to try it on. "See for yourself."

Sliding it onto his left arm, Arlo focused a small amount of mana into the bracelet. A shimmering circular shield of orange light appeared, radiating a faint hum of energy. It resembled the shields used by Doctor Strange in the Marvel movies, something Arlo couldn't help but geek out about internally.

"This is incredible," Arlo muttered, rotating his wrist and marveling at the way the shield followed his movements.

Damir explained further. "The shield can block physical attacks, but it depends on how much mana you pour into it. Too much strain, and it'll break. As for the magic deflection, it's good for things like fireballs or lightning bolts, but don't expect it to stop a cursed sword."

Aria stepped forward, inspecting the bracelet. "How much does it cost?"

Damir's grin widened. "Not cheap. Life-saving items like this are always in demand."

Aria waved her hand dismissively. "No problem. I'll cover it. This is Arlo's reward for his performance."

Damir squinted at Arlo with newfound scrutiny, rubbing his soot-covered beard. "So, lass, what did the kid do that's got you this impressed? You're not one to hand out praise without a damn good reason."  

Aria leaned casually against the counter, her arms crossed. "He pulled off an S-rank evaluation on his last quest," she said with a calm but proud tone.

Damir froze mid-rub, his golden eyes widening in surprise. He glanced at Arlo, then back at Aria, and lowered his voice. "An S-rank? You sure about that? Only the big dogs from the top guilds pull stunts like that."

Arlo, standing a few feet away and fiddling with the Seraphim Bracelet, picked up bits of their conversation.

"Are they talking about me again?" he muttered under his breath, pretending to focus on adjusting the bracelet.

Damir chuckled, his laugh now softer and more thoughtful. "Well, lad, you've got some serious potential if Aria's putting this kind of faith in you. Keep your wits about you, though. Success like that can paint a target on your back."

He reached over and gave Arlo a firm pat on the shoulder that nearly sent him stumbling.

Aria smiled warmly, her tone light. "Thanks for your help, Damir. You're one of the best, and I trust your craftsmanship."

The dwarf grinned, his hearty laughter filling the shop. "Bah, think nothing of it, lass. That's what friends are for. Now, get out there and make sure this kid doesn't lose that fancy bracelet on his next crazy mission!"

As they walked out of the shop, Arlo adjusted the bracelet on his wrist and glanced at Aria. "What was that all about? You two seemed a little… secretive."

Aria smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Just some grown-up talk, Arlo. Focus on getting used to that gear. You'll need it sooner than you think."

Arlo sighed but couldn't help a small smile. With the Seraphim Bracelet snug on his wrist and a sense of quiet confidence growing in his chest.

"I think this'll do," he said, smiling at Damir.

Damir laughed heartily. "Good choice, lad. And don't forget—when you need upgrades, you come to me. I don't do second-rate work."

Arlo nodded. "Deal."

As they finalized the purchase, Arlo couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.

==================================================

After that, Aria and Arlo decided to take some time off, an unusual occurrence for the both of them. The café they entered was modest but cozy, with wooden furniture and soft amber lighting that gave the place a warm glow. It wasn't something Aria typically did her time was usually consumed with training regimens, evaluations, and planning. The fact that they were here, sitting across from each other like normal people, was jarring enough to make Arlo suspicious. 

Arlo stirred his mocha absentmindedly, his gaze flickering to Aria. She looked relaxed, an unusual sight considering her usual no-nonsense demeanor.

"So…" Arlo began, his voice hesitant. "Why are we here? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice and all, but this doesn't seem like your thing."

Aria smirked, sipping her black coffee. "Caught on to that, huh? You're right. This isn't my usual scene, but I thought it might be a good change of pace."

"Change of pace," Arlo repeated, narrowing his eyes. "You're not buttering me up for another insane training regimen, are you?"

Her smirk widened. "Not this time. Though that's not a bad idea."

Arlo groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap?"

"You're not," Aria assured him, though her tone didn't entirely inspire confidence. She set her cup down, her expression turning serious. "I just wanted to talk to you about something important."

Arlo straightened, his nerves kicking in. "Important how? Like, life-or-death important? Because if it's another quest, I was hoping to enjoy at least a day off."

"It's not a quest," Aria said. "It's about what you overheard in Damir's shop."

Arlo froze, his hand tightening around his cup. "Oh, that," he said, feigning nonchalance. "I didn't catch much, just… something about guilds being interested in me?"

Aria gave him a knowing look. "Don't play dumb, Arlo. I know you're sharp enough to put two and two together."

He sighed, setting his cup down. "Fine. I heard you and Damir talking about my S-rank evaluation. And yeah, I figured it might attract some attention. What I don't get is why we're here discussing it now." "Because I want you to hear it from me first,"

Aria set her cup down with deliberate calm. "Guilds are going to approach you eventually. The Obsidian Circle, the Crimson Vanguard, Sacred Order even the Church of Stellar Dawn. They'll offer wealth, power, secrets. Some will threaten. Others will beg. Some of them will be respectful, but others won't take no for an answer. As your guide, it's my job to prepare you for that"

Arlo nodded slowly, her words sinking in. "And you want me to join your guild, don't you?"

She didn't deny it. "I do. But not yet. Right now, you're a trainee pioneer, which gives you immunity from recruitment. Once you become an official pioneer, that changes. I'm just giving you something to think about."

Arlo leaned back, letting out a long breath. "You're not going to force me, are you?"

Aria's mouth twitched in amusement. "Do I look like a thug to you?"

"Well…" Arlo started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "you are kind of intimidating. I mean, if this were an anime, you'd definitely be the scary mentor type who trains the hero through sheer terror."

Aria rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. "You're impossible."

Arlo laughed, the tension between them easing. "Seriously, though, I'll think about it. You've been honest with me, so it's the least I can do."

"Still the vultures descend," Arlo finished. He leaned back, studying her. "Why yours? What makes your guild different?"

Aria's smile was razor-thin. "We don't recruit—we curate. No bloated hierarchies, no petty squabbles. Just results."

"And if I say no?"

"Then I'll wish you luck and train you twice as hard." She sipped her coffee, the steam curling around her like smoke. "But ask yourself: when the world tries to break you, who do you want at your back? Politicians in gilded armor… or warriors who've survived the abyss?"

Arlo traced the Seraphim Bracelet's runes, their glow muted but persistent. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I'm asking," Aria said, her tone sincere.

.....

Aria stirred her coffee lazily, her sharp eyes softening as she glanced at Arlo.

"So," she began, "anything new or interesting in your life right now? Outside of pioneer training, of course."

Arlo perked up at her question, a flicker of excitement crossing his face.

"Actually, yeah," he said, leaning forward. "I recently bought a Pokémon egg. It's supposed to hatch tomorrow."

Aria raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. "A Pokémon egg? Seriously?"

"Hey, don't knock it until you try it," Arlo said, pointing a finger at her with a mock-serious expression. "This could be the start of something amazing."

Aria chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee. "So what kind of Pokémon is it supposed to be? Or do you even know?"

"That's the fun part—it's a mystery egg," Arlo admitted, grinning sheepishly. "It could hatch into anything. The saleslady tried to sell me on it being a great deal, but I have a good feeling about it. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It hatches into a Magikarp?"

"That would be fitting," Aria teased, smirking. "But in all seriousness, it's good to trust your instincts. They'll save your life someday, especially out in the field. Whether it's picking a Pokémon egg or making a split-second decision during a mission."

Her words carried a weight that made Arlo pause. He nodded thoughtfully, appreciating her insight. "I hope so. I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

For the next half hour, their conversation drifted to other topics, stories of past training mishaps, Aria's unexpected fondness for coffee, and Arlo's ongoing plans for his Pokémon journey. The easy banter between them felt almost normal, a rare reprieve from the high-stakes world they usually occupied.

As they stood to leave, Arlo turned to Aria with a grin. "Thanks for this, Aria. It was… surprisingly not terrifying."

Aria smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Don't get used to it. Take your time in raising the Pokémon it will help you greatly in the future"

Aria and Arlo left the café shop and Aria. With a final wave, Arlo headed back toward the train station, already thinking about the Pokémon egg waiting for him at home. For the first time in a while, he felt genuinely optimistic.