Chapter 16

Sitting in the living room, Keith pulled out his magic tablet and went to his contacts list to call his Aunt. Although she didn’t pick up, she returned his call an hour later. “What do you need?”

After greeting her, Keith explained his problem and his sister’s advice. “I’m not too familiar with combat methods, so of everyone I know, I thought you were the best person to ask for help.”

“You were right,” Serilla responded with a tinge of arrogance. “In my line of work, I need to be familiar with many types of skills, so I know of many combat styles.”

“Oh?” Keith perked an eyebrow, finding himself wanting to get closer to this cold Aunt of his. “What’s your line of work?”

There was a pause before Serilla asked, “Are you sure you want the answer?”

Keith suddenly tensed up. “I’m sure.”

“Fine,” Serilla spoke with an even tone. “I work for the military as an assassin. My targets include human criminals, orcs, and demons.”

Keith released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and laughed slightly. “I figured that was the case.”

“That’s it?” Serilla was surprised by Keith’s lackadaisical response. “I’ve killed over a thousand people, you know.”

Keith shrugged. “But it's not like you pick random people as your targets, right? I believe you only kill who needs to be killed.”

Serilla took a few seconds to respond. “I can only hope so.”

“So anyway,” Keith changed to a more positive topic. “I want a combat style that stays out of harm’s way.”

“Of course you do. What damage type?”

“Magic,” Keith answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hmph.” Serilla grew disdainful. “Lazy people use magic.”

Keith countered with a righteous tone. “Why should I spend thousands of hours learning combat techniques when I can just cast a giant fireball and blow everything away?”

“That line of thinking will get you killed one day,” Serilla rebuked sternly. “I’ve lost count of how many mages I’ve outclassed in a fight who thought the same thing.”

Keith didn’t know how to respond to the certainty in his Aunt’s voice. Were mages really that conceited? Oh, who was he kidding? They definitely were. Keith already experienced the power of technical skills versus traditional skills.

Keith was undefeated at school due to practicing Void Shadowstep for around a decade. Void Shadowstep had endless variations, and its performance depended greatly on its user, while most of the student’s skills were just point and shoot.

Everyone knew traditional skills were inferior to technical skills, yet that didn’t stop most people from using them. They were simple, easy to pick up, and had decent power. On the other hand, technical skills require deep understanding and significant training before becoming practical.

“Fine.” Keith decided to compromise. “How about a magic style that requires a technical weapon and skills?”

Serilla sighed. “So be it. A grandmaster craftsman works for the four families, but I need to set up an appointment. I’ll drop by in a minute to give you a skill encyclopedia. It’s a military secret, so don’t share it.”

Before Keith could respond, Serilla ended the voice call. She arrived a few minutes later and handed Keith an unassuming textbook.

As Keith took the book in hand, he asked, “Is it alright to give this to me?”

Serilla gave her nephew a look. “You should adjust your perspective. As a direct descendant of the four families and Yara’s grandson, you might hold even more authority than me.” She turned to leave. “I’ll give you a call in a few days to meet Zeidrick.”

Keith stood at the door as his Aunt teleported away, wondering if he heard right. Did she say Zeidrick? The number one weapon craftsman in the world? Wow. While Keith was still reluctant to fight monsters, he couldn’t help but anticipate meeting Zeidrick and getting a custom weapon.

Looking down at the book, Keith returned to his room and went through it. To his surprise, it contained all the known skills in the world. Absorbing all the information would take days of non-stop reading, something Keith didn’t find too appealing. Thankfully, all he had to do was turn to the magic section.

Serilla called a few days later, stating the appointment with Zeidrick would be tomorrow at noon. The next day, Serilla picked up Keith, and together they went through several teleportation arrays, quickly arriving at a secluded mansion on top of a small mountain in Cadata.

The spot they teleported in faced the edge of a cliff, giving Keith a stunning view of a nearby city. Before he could fully appreciate the sight, Serilla dragged him along a stone path as she said, “This whole mountain belongs to Zeidrick, and both his home and workshop are here.”

The two wandered through the woods for a few minutes before arriving at a clearing, where a rundown cabin stood next to a flat metal platform. Countless strangely shaped magical machines littered the platform, the functions of which Keith had no idea.

When they arrived, the door to the wooden cabin opened slightly, a pair of eyes staring at them from within. Keith looked over, and when he did, the door slammed shut. Keith gawked, baffled. A few moments later, someone’s head appeared at the bottom of a window, their eyes just barely visible.

At this time, Serilla spoke, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Zeidrick has crippling social anxiety.”

Keith’s puzzlement vanished, replaced by empathy. He’d never experienced anxiety before, but seeing how the legendary craftsman was behaving, his condition was surely a pitiful one.

Wanting to greet the renowned craftsman formally, Keith approached the door, only to hear several locks click into place. Knowing it was inappropriate to laugh, Keith held his mouth shut and turned to his Aunt for help.

Serilla clicked her tongue before shouting, “Zeidrick, did you take your medicine today?!”

Keith swore he heard a groan from inside the cabin. A moment later, the door opened as a frail young man with thin hair strode out with a boisterous laugh, “Serilla, so lovely to see you! Your weapon is one of this king’s best, so why have you come? Surely it isn’t broken?”

Keith’s eyebrows twitched as numerous questions swirled in his mind. Did Zeidrick just refer to himself as a king in the third person? Wasn’t he crippled by anxiety just a second ago? What medicine did he take for such a change to occur?

Serilla glared at Zeidrick for a good minute before pointing at Keith. “I’m introducing a new client to you. This is Markus and Mariane’s son, Keith Walker.”

“What?!” Zeidrick nearly collapsed to the ground in shock. Too afraid to look at Keith, he pulled out a bottle with a trembling hand and downed several pills, returning to normal a moment later. “Haha, so the rumors were true! Hmph! Even Yara’s grandson has to come to me for a weapon. Isn’t this emperor amazing?!”

Keith turned to his Aunt with a look that said, ‘Can we go somewhere else?’

“Come, come, enter this god’s abode and let’s chat,” Zeidrick guffawed as he dragged an unwilling Keith into the small cabin, followed by his Aunt.