Chapter 138 (2/2)

Claptrap blinked slowly. A leather bracer of high quality could be obtained for 15 silvers, a few less if he bought in bulk. However, the sale price was usually around 20. So that meant that he could sell these for 30 silvers each…? That was a doubling of his initial investment. Of course some would go to the Ghosthound, but...

If the Ghosthound could reach 60%, that upcharge of 30 silver….

Claptrap could only see golden goins for several seconds. Then he shook his head.

“A problem?” Artisan Dwei asked, his tone casual. “...we believe our offer is very generous. And let’s be clear- Adept Ivkka was bluffing. The Engraving guilds do no such training things, precisely to prevent mid tier Styles from obtaining armor with minor engravings, and obtaining an advantage.

“So when the guild does find you,” Artisan Dwei continued, “You will want to have some friends, to help alleviate the pressure. Your Engraver will join the Guilds, or die. You might be extorted for some of your profits. But that won’t be such a loss, especially if you have a large amount of goodwill to fall back on with your loyal customers.”

As Dwei continued to talk, Claptrap’s face sank, and he abruptly realized how fucked a situation this might turn out to be. But his mind stayed sharp, considering the offer. As it was, it truly was fair. And he needed more money now, to start the engine…

“...Alright, I accept. I can only provide you with around 20 right now, I’ll have to speak with the engraver for more. Do you have…” Claptrap hesitated. “...armor preferences.”

Artisan Dwei considered. “...No, I think not. But it might be easier if we keep them separate. For example, Dragonfly on bracers, Fish on boots, Bear on breastplates.”

They hammered out the additional details, and Artisan Dwei took the bracers Claptrap had in exchange for almost 400 silver. After the Artisan had left, Claptrap looked down in wonder at the money.

“Maybe…” He whispered, to himself, and to the stars above. “There really is hope… I’ll see you again, Ciel.”

*****

After hours of working him to his limits, Shal considered his disciple. “You… are not as weak as I imagined.”

The foolish disciple grinned at him. It had been a long night of exercises and sparring, pushing the newest member of the Spear Phantom Style until he gave out. In strength, and speed, and endurance, he continued to display flexibility and poise, adjusting to new challenges with an alacrity that surprised Shal.

But it only made him sigh. “No, you shortsighted youngling. Your strength bodes ill for your chances in the tournament. There are things we need to discuss.”

Shal sat down, making himself comfortable. His disciple remained on the ground, his clothes sticking to his body from the sweat. But his eyes were alive and focused. That too, had surprised him. No matter how physically exhausted the boy should be, he always had one more spark to meet a new challenge.

Shal’s misgivings only grew. He gave the boy a frank look. “You… still have not obtained a class?”

The boy’s body stilled. Apparently he understood some of the issues related to this. But he nodded slowly, confirming Shal’s fears. Shal sat back, mulling it over for a long time. Which meant there was always the option of getting a class… Originally Shal had assumed the boy had chosen this avenue of satisfying the obligations of the Spear Phantom Style for glory in the tournament, but perhaps…

It was just because all the others required a class.

“When you told me previously… I honestly didn’t believe you. I thought… well, it matters naught. But your lack of a class… and your strength… poses a problem.”

His disciple frowned. “Why?”

“Ah, I am being… broad. Your stats, boy. Until today, I hadn’t realized… much of your strength comes from your high stats. I had been assuming you were relying on high skill levels to match those who had leveled to around 20, but….your stats equal them. They even surpass them, considering you have skill in magic as well.”

Shal sighed again. “We could have made plans to cover for lack of stats… but they are your strength. Your weakness… is your skill levels. What level is your Spear Mastery?”

After a foolish hesitation, his disciple answered. “81.”

“Mine sits at 202.” Shal said shortly. “In this tournament… it will be strange for one’s skill to not be at 100. And that is just the general. The specific skills… will be polished to an even higher level. You… simply do not have the time to make this up without the time dilution of a dungeon. The top 8…. No, perhaps even the preliminaries are impossible for you.”