CHAPTER 473: FORGED FOR WAR

Roland worked on his form until evening came. He then asked someone to bring him the best drink they could find within the two fortresses. In the end, it was Lucien who brought him the beverage.

"Thanks, brother!" Roland patted the prince’s back.

"Don’t call me that. Now tell me, why did you make me bring one of my father’s best wines? I hope it’s not to share with my sister... she’s weak with alcohol." Lucien passed him the bottle and a few cups.

"No, nothing like that. To be honest, I haven’t tried drinking yet. Then again, I have the body of an adult now, so it shouldn’t be bad. But anyway, it’s to have a few drinks with my blacksmith friend, Arvor. Today he finishes my weapons."

Lucien, who had not yet met the man, wondered how he looked and was curious to see the new weapons Roland would receive. Roland, however, quickly saw through the prince’s thoughts.

"I guess you’re coming along then. Let’s head there together. It’ll be fun showing off my new gear to you."

Lucien gave a small sigh, though he liked how Roland instantly treated him as a friend, or as he called him, a brother.

"Fine, but I’ll be having a greater share of the wine."

Roland shrugged. He wasn’t about to start his first lover’s spat with Stella over drinking, so he agreed. He then placed a hand around Lucien’s shoulder as they walked.

"Say, how are things with your girlfriend... You know, Morrag? Everything good?" he whispered, knowing the walls had ears.

"Ugh. Did I mention she hates it here? I really wish you luck in taking over Elris, Roland. I need another place for her..."

"Hey, why are you putting pressure on me? At least tell me what you’ll give me, the next king of Elris."

Lucien looked at him. "Does that mean you won’t be aiming to be king of Elris? I thought you would."

Roland shook his head.

"Nah, I hate all this leader stuff. Just give me a luxurious villa and send me off to the deepest forest this world has, after all this is done. I want to spend my days sleeping beside Stella."

Lucien chuckled and patted Roland’s back.

"Now that I think about it, maybe you should take the position, and I’ll take that villa with Morrag. Not like I can present her as my wife after all this is over. We might have to hide until people start accepting demons again. They’ll probably tolerate half-bloods, but full demons like Morrag will be hard."

Roland sighed more deeply.

"I guess we’ll have to set some rules once this is done. But yeah, it will be hard for everyone to just accept demons again."

The two continued walking until they reached the smithy, where the sound of a single hammer echoed throughout the room.

"I hope they’re almost done. It’s been at least eight hours since they sent me to train."

As they drew closer, they saw Arvor still hammering away.

"Hey, almost done?" Roland asked, curious about what the smith was working on.

"The swords? They were finished about an hour ago. I’m just working on the sheath. I’ll finish it during the night, so you’ll have to pick them up tomorrow."

Roland glanced at the two blades that stood out, both wrapped as if giving him the privilege of unsealing them himself.

"Go ahead, they’re ready. Now, about that drink."

Lucien passed the wine toward Arvor. The man’s eyes lit with greed, especially at the sight of the golden-trimmed bottle.

"I guess the three of us will have one cup each, then another two more for me... maybe one more for either you or Roland."

Meanwhile, Roland was already peeling away the neat cloth wrapped around his new blades. He admired the hilts; metallic and set with small jewels where his hands would grip the weapons. They had been placed carefully so they would never interfere with his hold.

"I went with dual blades like the ones you broke. These will be much sturdier. I used the best material you brought and the finest crystals, of course. The blades can handle both light and darkness, but you should try channeling one element into each blade so they last you much longer."

Roland followed the advice. Darkness gathered in his dominant right hand and flowed into the blade. For the left blade, however, he would have to wait until Elios allowed him access to his light attribute.

The right blade felt perfect, as if it were an extension of himself, a new, longer limb ready to slice anything in the room clean in half.

"I can really feel the difference. This is the blade I needed. It isn’t as corrupt as the one I took from the demons, and it’s lighter and faster. I’ll need practice to learn how to properly wield them."

Roland kept slashing until fatigue finally caught up with him, and his curiosity turned toward the drink they had brought.

He took a sip, only to nearly spit it back out.

"Did you two seriously say this is the best thing you’ve ever had?" Roland asked. He had been hoping for something closer to cider, the kind of drink people used to celebrate with, but this tasted horrid.

"Just save the rest for Stella. She’ll like it, at least," Lucien told him, knowing the boy wouldn’t drink more.

Roland nodded. He wasn’t about to force down another sip.

"Well, enjoy it, you two. I need a long shower and some time with my wife... before my long trip into demon-infested lands."

He slouched in his seat, drawing laughter from both Arvor and Lucien at his sudden change in mood.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming too," Lucien said. "So, relax, Roland. We’ll get there even faster if you feel up for it. Two against a few thousand should be fine."

Roland gave him a look, wondering if the wine had already gotten to him, but he nodded along with the joke.

"Yeah, fine. I just hope you can teleport us out of there at the end. I don’t want to save your butt a second time."

Both Arvor and Lucien seemed to be getting along well, so Roland left them and returned to check on Stella before taking a shower, perhaps even having her join him. Her choice, of course, was to accept.

For Stella, skinship was one of life’s simple pleasures. That, combined with the taste of the best wine, made sitting together in the jacuzzi-like tub feel like heaven.

Soon, Roland found himself lying on his bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. He tried to piece together what had happened, searching for where he had failed. That was when he heard Elios’s voice for the second time.

[I almost have everything under control... Do not fail me, Roland. I want every enemy’s head on a pike, displayed across the forest. I will make it so they keep living even after they rot. They will pay for killing our queen. Just make sure you do it in time, boy. I want to follow her wishes, and I want to see this place truly change.]

Roland, who didn’t want to wake Stella, accepted the deal with a few nods.

[I will. Don’t worry, I will keep it...]

With that, he finished his thoughts and finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Roland rose early. He still needed to get used to his new swords in a proper arena, and he also had to pick up the sheaths.

He only managed to give Stella a deep kiss before leaving; the sheaths were necessary since even accidentally brushing against the blades could cause a serious cut.

As soon as he arrived in the blacksmith’s area, he found Lucien asleep on a chair, while Arvor was inspecting one of the sheaths.

"I’m sorry if your friend got a bit drunk and ended up sleeping here," Arvor said with a half-smile. "He seemed to be in no condition to help, so I didn’t want to leave the measurements to him."

Roland sighed and placed a hand on the prince, using his healing magic to sober him up.

"Is that you... Mor—oh, sorry, Roland," Lucien mumbled groggily. "What a nightmare... but it ended well."

Roland kept healing him until he was able to stand up.

"I think I’m fine now. It even cured my headache. Thanks, Roland, you don’t know just how useful that magic is. Now, let’s go. I believe it’s time to test the blades against a proper shield. Just so you know, I donated the best wood so they could make the best sheaths. They will add a greater amount of magical power, so I hope you’ll appreciate it."

Roland examined the sheath, running a hand over the soft, luxurious wood.

"Looks nice. Thanks, Lucien. Now, please tell me you can set up a few good wards. I really don’t want to keep slicing at air."

Lucien smirked, finally looking more like himself. "Don’t worry, brother. I’ll give you all the targets you want. Just try not to break my work this time."

Roland chuckled, slipping the blades into their new home. For the first time in days, he felt whole. Yet even as laughter filled the forge, he knew these trials were a needed practice.

The real test waited in demon lands.