Arthur

At the last second, the game prompted him to choose the name with which Edgar would be known inside the game. Edgar pondered for a while, as this would probably be the most permanent decision he would make at the beginning. He didn't have to think too long and decided to honor his grandfather by giving him the motivation to pursue this second life.

He made his decision and his character screen updated.

[Arthur]

[Lvl 1]

[Hp 100/100]

[Mana 0/0]

[Str 6]

[Int 3]

[Agi 8]

[Vit 3]

[Cha(Charisma) 1]

As his character selection screen faded away, he was transported to a small village on the hillside. There, dozens of other players were feeling the same excitement and wonder Edgar was feeling. Some players could be seen immediately heading off into the forest, looking for things to hunt. Some others went looking for NPCs, trying to get more information and look for quests.

Edgar was part of the latter. He didn't want to immediately start his grind for experience points. He felt that if he played the game that way, it would be of no use to him. While maximising experience points had its own fun aspect to it, he didn't want to get burned out from the game so quickly. Instead, he wanted to take a more open-minded approach. An approach that would be more conducive to having fun and experiencing a whole new world.

The Hillside Village in which Edgar spawned was one of countless villages suited for beginners in the sprawling continent of Atlas. It was a lonely mining town left to its own devices.

Edgar breathed in his surroundings and got acquainted with the world. It was incredible. The air he was supposedly breathing felt real. He felt refreshed after a deep breath of nonpolluted air. He noticed that there were no changes to his appearance, and all of his physical characteristics were the same.

Although he was skinny in real life, it didn't mean much in the game. If he encountered a bodybuilder that had only allocated 5 points in strength, Edgar could still win out. It was purely visual.

He took a stroll around the village and encountered various people going about their day. They seemed too busy to talk to a nobody like him.

While these people were not exactly rich, Edgar and the players looked like beggars in their beginner clothes. They were all avoided and treated like garbage. Players all around the village were dejected as they failed to get any noteworthy quests.

Edgar didn't mind any of these occurrences. Instead, he noticed a small shop on the corner of the village. It faced the mountain and looked abandoned. However, the black coming out of its chimney betrayed it. Clearly, someone was there.

Edgar walked toward it and examined the shop closer. If from afar it looked abandoned, closely examining it made it look even worse. The walls looked like they were about to crumble, the roof was patchy, and the chimney was breaking down. It was a wonder that the shop was still somehow standing upright, not killing whoever was inside. Edgar's curiosity took the better of him and moved to see who was inside.

As he turned the corner, he started hearing the sound of metal striking metal. The sound was rhythmic and fierce. Edgar turned the corner and saw an older man working on what appeared to be a sword on an anvil. The metal was red hot and the hammer continued striking it without any break. Edgar was mesmerised by the repetitive actions of the blacksmith.

The seemingly repetitive actions, however, were precise and accurate and far from repetitive. Instead, each of the blacksmith's strikes with the hammer was molding and tempering the sword into perfection. Edgar's eyes could not really distinguish the true brilliance of the blacksmith in front of him.

Nonetheless, Edgar was mesmerised. He stood idly by and watched the blacksmith for hours as the long lump of metal became more and more refined. It was finally taking shape into a sharp, deadly weapon. Edgar had never seen anything like it before. The world in which he lived was almost all fully automated. Craftsmen were a thing of the past. It was the first time in his life he had seen someone create something so magnificent from nothing.

That's talent, thought Edgar to himself. Not only did he appreciate the man's hard work and effort into one single piece of equipment, but he also appreciated the sword's value. It was clearly no ordinary sword, yet when the old blacksmith was done with it, he was not showing any pride at all. In fact, it was the opposite.

The old man seemed disgusted at the piece of work he had just created, and just as he was about to discard and destroy it, Edgar couldn't help but yell "Stop!"

As he yelled, the old man stared into his eyes. Edgar felt like the old man could see right through him, all his weaknesses exposed. The old man scoffed and proceeded to destroy his work.

He broke it in half as easily as breaking a pencil. Edgar looked dejected as he ran up and grabbed the pieces of the sword and mourned them.

The old man looked at Edgar strangely, wondering what a beggar was doing with his sword.

"Scram, rat," said the blacksmith as he looked at the kneeling Edgar in half disgust. It was unavoidable. The clothes that the system gave the beginner players were just too shabby. Pairing this with Edgar's skinny frame, it was no wonder the blacksmith looked at him as a street rat.

Edgar looked up at the blacksmith with a hint of madness in his eyes. Never had Edgar been so humiliated by somebody. However, he regained his cool almost immediately. He reminded himself that it was just a game. Once he calmed down, he looked at the blacksmith with respect. It was not his fault he assumed Edgar's identity. In fact, once he took a good look at himself, he couldn't blame the old man.

Instead, Edgar's eyes were filled with admiration. The man in front of him created a work of art in front of his eyes Yet, he was still not satisfied with his work. The blacksmith sought the only perfection. Perhaps that's why his shop was so run down. He couldn't sell anything if he never finished something.

Edgar slowly got up and stared at the blacksmith. He waited a moment until the blacksmith almost opened his mouth and said, "Teach me how to make what you just made."

The blacksmith burst out laughing as soon as he heard the rat's words. To him, Edgar was insignificant. Why would he teach his family's blacksmithing techniques to him?

Edgar remained calm and kept his gaze firm. He would not give up. He had never seen such elegance and fierceness combined in one. Furthermore, the man in front of him made a work of art out of a mere mineral. How could he not respect that?

To make something extremely valuable out of mere labor -- that is talent. A skill Edgar craved for. Something he didn't know he wanted.

The blacksmith's laughter died down as Edgar's gaze remained fixed on him.

"You'll never even be able to wield my hammer, kid," said the blacksmith, sizing Edgar up.

"Try me," muttered Edgar calmly back.

The blacksmith was taken aback by the quick and calm response. Most people's pride would be hurt by now. Yet the person in front of him did not relent. Edgar gained a little bit of respect in the blacksmith's eyes.

But it was still not enough.

"Go away, you'll get hurt trying to subdue metal as I do."

Edgar took a step back, not understanding the blacksmith's hesitation in trying to teach him. Edgar thought of an idea as he looked around the old man's shop and said, "How about I chop your firewood?"

The blacksmith seemed intrigued at the idea. It would save him hours each morning if Edgar truly lived up to his promise. The blacksmith hesitated, not knowing what Edgar's plan was.

"In exchange, you'll let me watch as you work," continued Edgar.

Realisation dawned on the blacksmith and his respect for Edgar rose by a couple more notches. Indeed, the kid would learn a lot just by watching him more closely. It wouldn't hurt to have him around to do his chores, thought the blacksmith.

"Fine. But change out of those clothes if you're going to be hanging around me"