Immortality

A sword's blade reflected the light with a mirror-like brilliance. The edges were meticulously crafted, forming a sharp and even line that promised precision in every strike.

The hilt, adorned with a newly fashioned grip, exuded a sense of craftsmanship and care, and the material was smooth to the touch.

The overall appearance suggested a recent creation, free from the wear and tear of battle, showcasing the dedication and skill invested in its forging.

A young boy with long dark hair and blue eyes held the sword, a faint smile on his face. He turned to the burly man beside him with an expectant gaze and proudly stated,

"Come on, you have to admit, this one is good."

He handed the sword to the burly man, who scrutinized it and, after a moment of silence, declared,

"Ten."

The boy's expression brightened, and he exclaimed joyfully,

"RIGHT?! Now, it can go up on the rack with the rest of the swords. Ten silver coins for each sword, and it takes me around a week or two to make one. Four weeks is... forty silver coins! Hehe, then after a year...soon I'll be swimming in gold."

"Oh baby, don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more!"

The young boy sang with a maniacal expression, his mind filled with vivid images of pools overflowing with gold and enchanting beauties.

As he laughed with a crazed expression, an indifferent voice interrupted.

"Ten copper coins."

The laughter stopped, and the young boy wore a disbelieving expression. With his mouth agape, he remained silent for a moment before speaking in a solemn tone.

"What?"

"Ten copper coins? How?!"

"The iron ore itself is worth more than that!"

"Tell me, how is that possible?"

The burly man didn't respond. Instead, he placed the sword down on the table and strolled toward the anvil, resuming his craft.

Sweat trickled down his face, his muscles bulged with every mighty strike, and the loud sound of metal hitting metal echoed throughout the workshop.

"Alright then" the young boy exclaimed as he grabbed the sword, placed it in its sheath, and made his way out of the workshop.

This young boy was, naturally, Zhihui.

A year had passed since his confrontation with Roland. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to destroy the hammer.

He was far from a saint, but he did respect honest people like Roland. Doing it would have left a bad taste in his mouth.

However, he didn't let Roland off.

In the days that followed, he persistently bothered and disrupted Roland until, reluctantly, Roland granted him permission to reside in the workshop and apprentice in the craft. 

At the same time he learned more about him through actual conversations, However, even at this point, the enigmatic purpose behind his actions remained undisclosed. 

He had made some progress, though.

After seeing Roland's strength, he decided to pick up blacksmithing as it would be a good way to train his physique, which, at this stage, could only be described as abnormal.

He was six years old yet almost five feet, and compared to other kids his age, his muscles were huge.

'Although my skills can't be compared with Roland's, ten copper coins is way too low for this sword.' He contemplated, his face contorted in anger.

'So insufferable, one of these days I should teach him another lesson'

'Still, picking up blacksmithing was a good idea' he thought while flexing his biceps.

'Hmm, the robe the master gave me appears to adapt to my size as I grow. Not only that, despite its worn appearance and stubborn dirt stains, it's durable.'

'Speaking of master, where the hell is he? who leaves their disciple in a random town and disappears to who knows where!'

'left me without any resources as well; this period of cultivation hasn't been going well, and I can feel a painful sensation when I meditate. I doubt my current body can handle more meridians right now.'

A year had passed without a word from his master. Uncertain of the master's whereabouts or when he would return, he found himself confined to the small village of Alryne.

...

Upon leaving the workshop, he met eyes with a group of middle-aged men who smiled as they spoke to him.

"Oh? It's our little magician."

During this period, Zhihui became more acquainted with the townspeople.

Following the clash with Roland, some harbored lingering reservations, but as a year passed, they gradually got used to his presence.

Apart from occasionally bothering Roland, he kept to himself, attributing his transformation to a magical artifact he claimed to possess.

Zhihui rubbed his palms together and smirked faintly, then made his way to the group.

"Uncles, may I interest any of you in purchasing a weapon?" Zhihui inquired, showcasing the sword in his hands to the group.

"Uncle? Am I that old?" one of them asked with a pained voice.

"A sword, huh? Is this your handiwork?" another queried.

"Indeed, forged with my own sweat and blood," Zhihui affirmed.

"Heh, it's impressive, but we're not hunters. A sword holds little use for us," another uncle remarked.

"But, you see, this is no ordinary blade," Zhihui added with a mysterious tone.

"Hmm? What makes it special?" they asked collectively.

"This creation carries enchantments, bestowing upon its wielder a power defying the limits of mortal realms," Zhihui explained.

Excitement and curiosity flickered across the group's faces, prompting one to nervously inquire, "What kind of power are we talking about?"

Zhihui, as if contemplating secrecy, looked around and then leaned closer to the group, whispering,

"Immortality."

The revelation sparked shock and awe among the men, leading one to express doubt.

"It sounds too good to be true."

"It can't be..."

"How can a sword possess such extraordinary power?" another questioned skeptically.

"But it does. Look at me. With my intelligence and my transformation magic, do you truly think I am a child? Despite my appearance, I ceased aging at six, thanks to a sword like this one. It granted me a life spanning over a thousand years," Zhihui disclosed.

"Hmm, he is a bit weird for a kid."

"True, and his magic."

The group exchanged glances, nodding in silent agreement.

"And what's the cost?" one finally inquired.

"Out of the generosity in my heart, I offer this extraordinary treasure to you for a mere ten silver coins."

"Ten, hmm, we can split it.. alright deal!" they eagerly agreed.

As Zhihui prepared to finalize the transaction, a hesitant and feminine voice interrupted.

"No, he's lying! It's fake!"

tsch

"Actually, on further thought, immortality is too dangerous of a thing; it shouldn't be taken lightly. For your own good, it's best I keep it." He said with a broad grin, though hints of irritation could be seen on his face.

He then proceeded to walk away without waiting for a response; however, next to him was a small girl with an angry expression on her face. Staring intensely at Zhihui as she questioned

"Why did you lie to them?"

In an indifferent tone, he replied.

"Why is your hair pink?"

"What does my hair have to do with this? You should be nicer to people. Those guys struggle to support their families, working morning till night and you get to stay with Roland and make stuff to sell. You don't need money, so why?

She paused, contemplating for a moment, and then continued, her expression marked by confusion.

"I just don't get it, you. Sometimes you're nice, then other times, you're just...bad."

"I was just joking with them, and bad? What a cruel thing to say to your big brother."

"Who's my big brother? Im older than you!"

"If you say so, by the way, what do you think of my sword?" he asked, showing her the blade.

"Hmm, it doesn't have any powers." She squinted her eyes and remarked.

"I don't know much about swords, but Roland's is better."

"And how do you know that?" Zhihui furrowed his brows as he questioned

"I just do," she said with a smirk.

"If I were as bad as you claim, with those words, I would have already cut you down," he grinned, and he waved the sword around.

"You don't scare me, and why are you so worked up anyway?"

The smile vanished from his face as he responded in a serious tone.

"Roland claimed the sword I painstakingly crafted over the last two weeks is only worth ten copper coins,"

"What?! That's even less than the baker's bread!" She yelled and then burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as she rolled across the floor.

"Hahahaha" 

Zhihui's expression contorted, and he tightly clenched the sword handle as he thought to himself.

'Calm down, do not let your emotions think for you, use your emotions to think'

After a moment, she regained her bearings, and he asked her

"How long are you planning to follow me?"

"That depends. Where are you going?"

"The forest,"

"Huh, why?" She inquired with surprise in her tone, her face showing traces of shock.

With a smirk, he swung the sword in his hands and remarked, "To see if my sword is really worth ten copper coins."

.....

Meanwhile, at Roland's workshop

An elderly man, clad in worn and dirt-caked robes, shuffled into the shop. The unpleasant odor emanating from him filled the workshop, causing Roland to briefly lose concentration, prompting him to glance at the newcomer. With a wide grin on his face, the elderly man asked in a pleading tone,

"Can you spare a hundred copper coins for this old beggar?"