Chapter 1: The heist
"I promise everyone that i will avenge her and hunt the culprit behind of this, so please lend me your strength. " 1 maybe around ch20+ since i already have this written at 40+ by now if you see this message
“Grow up strong and continue what I had taught you. “the man said to the Stell at his death bed. Leaving the young boy alone with no one to care for but himself. Years after the man's death, the boy had turned 19 last year. Running the store that his father left him all alone, smiting weapons with the techniques his father taught him and the experiences he had gained in the years.
Today he is turning 20, hoping for a celebratory day in which no one came. The boy continued to run the shop all day long.
“As if someone would come, this old shop has been in my care for over 4years already. My hobby is to only smelt weapons. Creating, melting, and creating again. It seems that as years passed, I have slowly become crazy huh? “
*ring*ding*ding*
The bell, who is it? The last customer was around 15days ago. Well, who am I to blame? At least there is finally someone that came in to buy all this junk. The items that have been in view right now are things my late father had created over the years who died 4years ago.
If you ask where are my crafts? It’s down in the basement, in the workshop. All the things there are either experimental creations or too dangerous to the outside world. Father had left me quite a bit of heritage, in fact, if I combined all the metals in my depository; It would have been enough to buy a mansion at the least.
Along with that, a forest behind my house with all the wood I would ever need to smelt was heaven for blacksmiths. If I might say, I would look like a hermit in the storybooks. A guy who lived secretly in his own house, funny isn't it? A being that hid from society, I like that concept. But unfortunately, no matter how far I am. A store is still a store, since this store is placed just at the edge of the city people still came infrequently, to pass by that is.
“Hello customer, how may I help you?” a rather rough-dressed man came inside. He is new to this store, no matter how many years had passed I always knew the faces of my customers, but this guy…
“Hump. Do you have any broad sword?” The man replied as he scratched his chin.
Looking at his build, His hand size, and his height, I could concur that this man is around 40years old at the most with a mid-tier experience in swordsmanship. By chance, I haven’t told you, since my house is literally next to the woods adventurers often come by to have their equipment repaired, but not many actually came in to buy them.
“This sir, does this suit you?” I offered one of my father’s prized creations that he himself poured his soul and sweat to create and gave it to him Because I’d rather have my father’s creation not rotting in this place.
“What? This junk? Are you telling me this is all you have to offer?” the man complained as he struck the wooden counter in front of me. what a loud man. This junk you’re speaking off is one of the best of father's creations, and all you have to say is junk? If I wanted to, I could offer my own but I don’t create broad swords or anything the like.
“Sir, this is the creation of my deceased father with all his knowledge, techniques, and methods in one. If you say such things about it one more time, I may be forced to kick mister out the store, no?” I coerced the man, hoping that it would work. But alas, it was ineffective.
“This brat scaring me? You’re hoping to die right? Here, I’ll gladly hold this ‘trash’ of yours and teach you proper manners. Boys! Come inside, let's teach this bastard how it’s done” with that as the sign, a row of scrawny men came from the front door in a flock and wreaked havoc in the store.
Breaking apart the shelves I and my father had built together and even purging the shelves empty as they ran away with my father’s creations. All I could do was bite my lips as I clenched my fist hard until it bled from the pressure I squeezed my hand with.
“Now, what is it that you’re going to do to me-" even though I was wishing for peace, even in this dire situation where I could lose my life I still gave it a go. With a punch containing all of my strength, I tried to hit his face.
“Guh. The bastard is retaliating huh!? “ He held me by my collar and gave me a swift knee-kick.
Unable to hold my puke, I spat all of it right at his face and grinned.
“Of course, why not!? You goddamn bastards are looting all the creations my father put his soul into making!! Even if I die now, in the afterlife I’ll never forget what you did!-“unexpectedly, The broad sword I had given him was swung down at my left leg hitting the bones inside. Although it didn't cut through the bone, it left a deep cut.
“You sure are sturdy huh?”
“Guah!??? “ after that, with the hilt of the sword he bashed my ribs. Almost breaking all the bones in my chest. Blood came out from my mouth and nose, it was gushing out like a fountain. The pain was unbearable.
Still, I endured. I endured and endured and endured. Seconds, minutes, or perhaps even hours had passed. I don’t remember anymore. I am just a normal blacksmith, after all, I don’t have the ability to fight back like those combat classes. A blacksmith is still a blacksmith, no matter how it is, it is still a support class.
In this world where everything is determined at birth, Humans and non-humans alike have their classes fixed. There are many types of classes, some are combat based and some are support-based classes. Classes like a swordsman and other close-combat classes are the attack class, while classes like archers and mages are called back-liners, they attack from behind the close-combat class.
And below them are the support and production classes like, Farmers, builders, sailors, and blacksmiths. Of course, there is also a lot of classes out there, but for now, this is all I know. What I’m aiming for is the ruler type class, or in other words, ‘Heroes’. but one cannot change their classes once they have been born into it, some may think of it as a curse and some, A blessing. The latter is someone who just wants to get strong despite his/her class.
I may have grown up, but the urges still linger. Sigh, this goddamn world. Fine, go take me! Eat my flesh, use it as fertilizer! Damn these classes, I don’t care if I’m production, support or not, I want strength to get back at them! Even if I have to offer up my body, so be it!
<User: stell, a proclamation to change class Y/N?>
If I can be stronger then Yes! Ughh, I’m tired of this sick world.
<Status: Class change confirmation complete: beginning process>
What is the hell with this annoying voice!? Let me sleep already! Let me beat that bastard of a father of mine.
“Tch. At least this medicine will make my travel quicker! “ I slowly reached out my hand and grabbed a small box from a drawer hidden inside the front desk. I had no choice to drink this pill that my father gave me a while ago. This was the only thing they didn't take. He said that this thing had very random effects, and it was a pill that should be taken when near death. No matter what it is I didn't care, I won’t regret every action I make.
'Was it something that could kill me? or something to make my death painless? if I only should've listened to what he said..' i thought of before I swallowed the pill with my bloodied hands.
*Ba-thump*
“Guhhhh.. What the hell is this!?” The pill that I just drank gave me extreme fatigue and a head-splitting pain!? How is this supposed to make my death quicker? Just let me rest!
<Unknown substance successfully merged, Reformation will now take place: _______ Activated, Program changed.>
The hell with this shit! I’m out! Goodbye or goodnight, whatever it is. I’m slowly losing my grip. Guh, is this how I will really end? Well, it was still better than rotting in old age.
topoko· Jul 20, 2021
