Vampire Progenitor of the Immortal World

Chapter 32: Chapter 32: A Practical Choice

Ethan remained quiet. The blacksmith put down the cup.

"If you’ve never trained with a weapon, the weapon won’t solve that problem."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Owning one doesn’t make me skilled."

The blacksmith nodded.

"Good."

He pointed toward a wall. Several weapons rested there. Ethan hadn’t noticed them properly when he first entered. Now that he looked closer, he saw the differences. Some were long. Some were short. Some had wide blades. Others were narrow. There were spears near one corner. A few axes hung from wooden supports. Several swords rested horizontally along the wall.

The blacksmith followed Ethan’s gaze.

"What are you thinking?"

"Something simple."

"Simple isn’t a weapon."

"I mean something I can learn without years of training before it becomes useful."

The blacksmith considered that.

"That’s a better question."

He walked toward the weapon racks.

"How much are you willing to spend?"

Ethan hesitated. Not because he didn’t know. Because saying the amount aloud would make the limit real.

"Not much."

The blacksmith smiled.

"That’s what everyone says."

"I can give you a number."

"Then give me one."

Ethan told him. The blacksmith’s expression changed slightly.

"That’s enough for something basic."

"Good."

"But don’t expect anything special."

"I don’t need special."

The blacksmith looked at him again.

"You’re not from a rich family."

"No."

"Soldier?"

"No."

"Guard?"

"No."

"Then why do you suddenly need a weapon?"

Ethan considered the question.

"I’ve started traveling outside the market."

"Work?"

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"Herb gathering."

The blacksmith nodded.

"Then you have a reason."

He walked to the wall and took down a short blade. It was plain. No decoration. The handle was wrapped in dark cloth. The blade wasn’t long enough to be awkward indoors, but it was large enough to be more than a knife.

The blacksmith held it out.

Ethan accepted it carefully. The weight surprised him. Not because it was heavy. Because it was balanced. He adjusted his grip. The blacksmith immediately noticed.

"Don’t hold it like that."

Ethan loosened his fingers.

"Like this?"

"Better."

The blacksmith stepped closer.

"You’re gripping too hard."

"I don’t know how to hold it."

"I noticed."

He took the weapon back.

"This is why I asked if you’ve used one before."

The blacksmith shifted his hand along the handle.

"You don’t need to crush the handle. Your hand should control it, not fight it."

He returned the weapon. Ethan copied the grip. The difference was noticeable. The weapon felt less awkward.

"Move your wrist."

Ethan adjusted it.

"Not that far."

He corrected himself. The blacksmith nodded.

"Better."

Ethan looked down at the blade.

"What is it?"

"A short dao."

"Why this?"

The blacksmith pointed at it.

"Because you’re new."

He pointed toward a longer sword.

"That one has more reach. It also gives you more to control."

He pointed toward a spear.

"That one gives you reach without requiring the same close distance. But you need space to use it properly."

Then he pointed toward an axe.

"That one is simple to understand."

Ethan looked at the axe.

"Then why not that?"

"Because understanding how something works isn’t the same as being able to use it."

The blacksmith folded his arms.

"An axe is useful. But you’re going to carry this thing around while working?"

Ethan glanced at the large axe.

"No."

"Exactly."

He tapped the short blade.

"This can stay at your side. It won’t get in the way as much. It’s useful indoors, on a road, or in a narrow place."

Ethan nodded.

"What about a normal sword?"

"Longer reach."

"Better?"

"Not automatically."

"More difficult?"

"For you? Probably."

Ethan looked at the weapon again. The blacksmith continued.

"The best weapon for a beginner isn’t the weapon that looks strongest. It’s the one you can actually carry, control, maintain, and practice with."

Ethan nodded slowly. That made sense.

"What would you choose if you were in my position?"

The blacksmith looked pleased by the question.

"Now you’re asking properly."

He pointed to the short dao.

"I’d take this."

"Because?"

"You’re working outside the market. You aren’t trained. You don’t have much money. You need something that won’t slow you down and won’t become useless because you don’t know advanced techniques."

He paused.

"You can learn the basics with it."

Ethan examined the blade again.

"How much?"

The blacksmith named a price.

Ethan didn’t answer immediately. He turned the weapon slightly. The blade was plain. No engravings. No expensive fittings. The handle was sturdy. The sheath showed signs of use.

"Used?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Can’t tell you exactly."

"Then why that price?"

The blacksmith smiled.

"Because the blade is still good."

Ethan ran his eyes along the edge without touching it.

"There’s a mark here."

The blacksmith looked.

"Small."

"The sheath is worn."

"Also true."

"The handle wrapping has been replaced."

"Twice."

Ethan looked up.

"Then the price is high."

The blacksmith laughed.

"You’re bargaining already?"

"You told me the weapon doesn’t need to be special."

"It doesn’t."

"Then I shouldn’t pay for things that aren’t there."

The blacksmith stared at him. For a moment, Ethan wondered if he had pushed too far. Then the man laughed again.

"You really haven’t bought weapons before."

"No."

"But you know how to bargain."

"I’ve bought other things."

"Fair enough."

The blacksmith lowered the price. Ethan considered it. Then offered a little less. The blacksmith refused.

Ethan pointed toward the worn sheath.

"That needs replacing eventually."

"Not today."

"The grip?"

"Still usable."

"The blade?"

"Good."

Ethan thought for a moment.

"Then include basic maintenance."

The blacksmith stared at him.

"You want oil and sharpening?"

"Yes."

"You’ll need to learn how to care for it anyway."

"Exactly."

The blacksmith rubbed his beard. Then he gave a short nod.

"Fine."

They settled on a final price. Ethan paid. The blacksmith counted the coins carefully before putting them away. Then he handed the weapon over.

Ethan secured the sheath at his side. It felt strange. Not uncomfortable. Just unfamiliar. He had spent months carrying tools. Wood. Buckets. Bundles. Now there was a weapon at his waist.

The blacksmith watched him adjust it.

"One more thing."

Ethan looked at him.

"Don’t get careless because you’re carrying steel."

"I won’t."

"You will eventually."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. The blacksmith smiled.

"Everyone does."

He picked up a small wooden practice blade.

"Come here."

Ethan stepped closer. The blacksmith showed him how to draw the weapon without letting the sheath catch against his clothing. Then he showed him how to return it. Again. And again. No complicated movements. No impressive techniques. Just the basic handling.

After several attempts, Ethan’s movement became less awkward. The blacksmith nodded.

"Practice that until it stops feeling strange."

Ethan looked at the practice blade.

"How long?"

"Until you don’t need to think about it."

Ethan understood. The first lesson wasn’t about fighting. It was about removing unnecessary movement.

"Do you teach?"

The blacksmith shook his head.

"I make weapons."

"Not a teacher."

"Correct."

"Then if I want to learn properly?"

"Find someone who teaches."

"Where?"

The blacksmith shrugged.

"Ask around."

Ethan nodded. That answer was expected. Before leaving, he looked back toward the weapon racks.

"There are cultivators who buy weapons from you?"

The blacksmith’s expression changed slightly.

"Sometimes."

"What do they usually want?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On the person."

The blacksmith returned to his workbench.

"Some want ordinary weapons. Some want better materials. Some don’t care about anything I sell."

Ethan didn’t press. He had already learned enough.

As he reached the doorway, the blacksmith called after him.

"Don’t take that thing into a fight just because you own it."

Ethan looked back.

"I won’t."

"Good."

The hammer came down again.

Clang.

Ethan stepped outside. The heat of the forge disappeared almost immediately. Cooler air touched his face. The market noise returned around him. He rested one hand briefly against the sheath at his side. The weapon was there. Real. Useful. But still only a tool.

He had bought it because he needed protection, not because he believed it made him a fighter. That distinction mattered.

Ethan continued down the street. The purchase had reduced his savings again. He already knew what that meant. He would need more work. More income. And preferably something better than being paid by the basket.

He glanced toward the market. Yesterday, he had gathered herbs and listened to people talk. Today, he had spent money because he lacked something he needed. Both experiences pointed toward the same problem.

He needed to understand the market better. Not just its prices. Its people. Who needed what. Who paid for what. Who knew where to find things. Who knew who.

Ethan slowed. A group of workers passed him, talking loudly about a merchant who had recently changed suppliers. He listened for a moment. Then continued walking.

He didn’t know yet what information was worth. But he was beginning to suspect that finding out might be worth more than another day’s labor.

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