Chapter 307 - A Past Half-Explained

"Guy?" the man asked, "If you were to assume my identity, I suggest something more specific."

"Hmph," Rynold scoffed, "No, of course. I don't know how to phrase it where I wouldn't come off as weird. Because, well, even in my head, the theory sounds farfetched."

The man raised his brow, curious as to what Rynold had come up with just now. Although Rynold remained reluctant to disclose information, his revelations seemed important. It was important enough for Rynold to reveal more of his origins.

"How about this," Rynold suggested, "Listen to what I have to say, no matter how absurd, and I'll answer a question you have."

"That is a terrible deal," the man answered, uninterested with Rynold's rather crass suggestion, "You're going to answer whatever I ask, no matter what happens. You have no place to go, no exit to leave. As of this moment, you have no leverage to offer such a deal."

"Oh, I know," Rynold smirked, "I'm not stupid. I know I have no leverage. But, I also know that you don't know if I'm telling the truth or not. I could lie. I could say whatever, and you'll have no choice to believe me. Because, like you said, there is no place to go. You're stuck here. It just so happens that, now, you're not alone. And, well, before you deny it, think it through."

As Rynold carefully laid out everything, the man took a moment to think. He looked away from Rynold and down to the floor below. He stared for but a second. Then, he promptly turned his attention to Rynold once more.

"You know I'm right," Rynold nodded politely, careful not to put any arrogance into his words.

"I hate to admit it, but yes," the man responded, disappointed but not at all angry, "The circumstances require us to work together, no? I suppose maintaining a mutual, beneficial relationship would be amicable."

"Hm," Rynold grunted, agreeing, "Well, now that's settled. I'm about to say something ridiculous, so I hope I'm not wrong about all this. It's a bit of a stretch, but why the hell not? You're the blacksmith who fostered a Spirit of Fire. Not just any Spirit of Fire, the —"

Rynold, out of nowhere, paused mid-sentence. He saw the look the man was giving off. The whole eyes wide open, dumbfounded look caught Rynold off-guard. He didn't expect a reaction like that. But he knew he had gotten the man's attention now. And, out of courtesy, maybe even debt, Rynold continued.

"Based on the story, you were never around to see how he grew up. The Spirit of Fire goes by Prominence Alpha now. I know. Stupid name, right? What was the guy thinking? Heh."

The man didn't shy from expressing his outright amazement, which made Rynold believe that what he thought was indeed true. While Rynold felt somewhat glad at the revelation, the man was not.

"Who are you?" the man asked Rynold coldly, tone turning hostile, "Who are you really?"

It appeared as though whatever Rynold would answer to that question would determine their relationship moving forward. It was in Rynold's best interest to answer honestly and sincerely.

"I'm a friend of that Spirit. I know, I know, it sounds insane. But, believe me. That's not even the craziest thing I've done so far. Although, I did build the guy's current vessel."

"You've built a vessel capable of withholding a Spirit's raw power?"

"Well, more like ten percent of it," Rynold shrugged his shoulders as he explained, "The Spirit was, I dunno, trapped or something in a Mana Crystal. Back then, I didn't know what the thing was and started building a case for the Mana Crystal. And, out of nowhere, the Spirit showed up and introduced itself to me. Heh. Now that I say it out loud, it sounds made up, huh? And, I know that the vessel won't hold for very long. You don't have to tell me off now, alright?"

The man didn't seem to care for Rynold's pleasantries. Instead, he seemed wary of Rynold's identity, now more than ever before.

"Why did you even think I'm who you say I am?"

"Really?" Rynold raised a brow, "That's the first thing you're asking after I drop a bombshell like that? Not how's he doing? Or, how's the guy been all this time? Instead of showing concern like any father would, you're asking me where I based my accusations on?"

"Tsk," Rynold clicked his tongue after seeing the man's determined expression, "Fine. I based it all on the story the Spirit told me. Granted, I didn't think you'd still be alive. But, if what Prominence Alpha said was true, then why not give the theory a shot? It all boiled down to your reaction, really. When I saw your face looking like that, it confirmed my suspicions. Although, it still doesn't explain how you're still alive and kicking. Well, all except the burnt-off arm, that is."

"You know about this, huh?" the man raised his right wooden hand.

"Yeah," Rynold's tone suddenly turned apologetic, "You know, he feels bad for burning your hand off. If I recall correctly, Prominence Alpha's exact words were: 'I have given him a fate far worse than death.' I can tell just how hard losing something like that is. Oh. Speaking of, what happened after the accident? He never told me."

"Some events transpired," the man answered weakly, "They had forced me to exile. Last I heard, the Spirit was, ehem. Anyway. It's been a long time since then. And I'm glad he has come a long way as well. It's, ahem, good to hear news about him."

Even though Rynold wasn't the most emotionally aware person, he knew there was something wrong. Whatever happened back then, there was definitely more to the story. But, as it stands, the guy wasn't much willing to say anything else. Rynold couldn't force anything out of the guy either. It wasn't in his place to do so. And, if anything, he would even come off as hostile.

"Whatever happened back then," Rynold spoke softly, "It was a long time ago. I'm more than sure that he would appreciate knowing that you're alive and well. I know I would."

The man nodded, exhaling deeply. Rynold, for better or worse, was willing to bridge whatever regrets the Spirit of Fire had. Rynold knew just how hung up people would get over their regrets, Spirit or no Spirit. At this point, however, only time would make the man open up.

"So, what are you working on?"

"Nothing in particular," the man answered, "It's difficult to work on anything without any proper resources. Those weapons over there are nothing compared to the ones I have made before."

"That bad?" Rynold walked over to the desk the man was standing on, only to realize that the weapon the man was crafting severely lacked in quality. Rynold wouldn't make an abomination like this even if his life depended on it. It was just that horrible.

"It is that bad," Rynold soon added, "All your tools are either broken, warped, or worn out. You don't even have any proper metals, just... What the hell is that?"

"An ore with a similar malleabiltiy to copper, albeit lacking in everything else. It's common in this cave. Although, there's really no use for it."

"Yeah," Rynold agreed, "No kidding. I take back what I said about the quality of your work. Given the circumstance, there's nothing much you could do about all of that. I guess Hell has more than one way of screwing someone over, huh?"

The man sighed, agreeing with Rynold's remark. It had been rough on the man for the time he has spent in Hell. The guy wasn't even living anymore. He was just surviving as best he could, working with whatever metals he had to pass the time.

"But, hey, setting all this up is still remarkable," Rynold nodded in praise as he brought out a bunch of random items, "These are all the drops I got from monsters I've killed in the past. I usually take the time of collecting this garbage just in case. But, I guess I never really got around to using it. Anyway, I'm sure you can melt all these down to use."

"What's the catch?" the man asked, expressing his reluctance to get along with whatever Rynold was thinking.

"Catch? No catch," Rynold smiled politely, extending a gesture of kindness, "You said it yourself. There's no way out for either of us. Although, I do need your help with one thing." Rynold finished the sentence by grabbing the destroyed drill and removing it from his Mana Gauntlet. He let out a heavy breath, realizing that the drill had become unusable.

"What's that?"

"This," Rynold pointed to the stump of metal, "This used to be a drill. A long one. Now, it's just broken. I'd like to use all that scrap metal and make something new. Something, hm, better."