After Kezner stepped out of a bus, he gripped the strap of his book bag as he walked for a block and walked into an alleyway. The old shop was located in an alleyway, but the nearby towering skyscrapers made the area look like miniature replicas, as they stared down on the alleyway from the heavens.

The second he turned the corner into the alleyway, he paused as he gulped at the sight, a bunch of people with cameras. Though he was horridly nervous, his face didn’t show it; it couldn’t show it. Kezner continued walking as he gave his regular deadpan face, adding an aloof element to his appearance.

Hearing footsteps coming their way, the crowd of cameramen and reporters collectively looked to see a young man with slightly messy gray hair in a navy blue blazer and pants. Their eyes all shined as they saw this uninteresting youth walking towards them, he was exactly the young man they were looking for, they couldn’t miss the gray hair. All of them rushed to him as they held out their microphones to his face and started questioning him at the same time; “Young man, you are Kezner, aren’t you?” “What can you tell us about Rankev?” “Young man, do you have any idea about where the boss of this shop went?”

His footsteps stopped as he didn’t expect to get swarmed, catching him off guard and leading to his mind going blank, “Uh…”

Seeing that they were able to stop him, the swarm of reporters got louder as they tried to speak on top of one another, it was almost to the point where they were shouting their questions in competition without looking for answers. All of the news organizations were always competing for more views, so they couldn’t bear to be outdone.

Kezner was still standing there in a speechless mess until a nearby door was thrown open and a cranky old voice shooed at the crowd, “All of you get away from the kid, you’re bad for business! How am I expected to run a diner if you keep shouting like that? I’m already poor yet you still want to ruin my fine dining establishment?! I’ll press charges if I have to...”

The fat old man had quite the voice as he kept berating the speechless reporters for more than a whole minute. “Old man, if you put that loud voice of yours into advertising, this place would actually be bustling.”

One of the reporters walked up to the old man with a frown and tried to explain, “We are only trying to cover a news story, it wouldn’t even take that much tim-”

Before he could finish his sentence, the fat old man started pointing at the reporter’s face and continued berating them, “Don’t you dare keep causing a disturbance, I’ll call the police on your asses, don’t test me! I’ve lived in this city all my life, I’ve got connections on the streets…”

The geezer spent five minutes this time talking about how he could have all of them fired if he decided to use his contacts and connections as the fat on his face jiggled in anger. Everyone knew they were just empty threats, but that didn’t stop the old man’s spit from flying everywhere. The originally enthusiastic reporters and cameramen had their moods dampened by this fat old man. The worst part was that they couldn’t do anything about it. They had recorded themselves screaming and yelling in front of the diner, which could technically count as causing a disturbance. Even though it would cause anything serious like a fine or jail time, it would look bad on their reputation if it was leaked

Though they were reluctant to leave, the old man throwing the tantrum was quite serious about shooing them away. With a sigh, they could only leave and come back at a later time, it wasn’t like the shop would walk away while they weren’t looking. So they all just packed up their cameras and left… for now.

Kezner gave a thankful gaze at the exasperated old man, “Thank you, Mr. Locke.”

“He he, no problem. You are Rankev’s brat after all, that’s the least I could do. Come, come in for a bite.” This old man, Rapheal Locke, though very large, was pretty swift when making his way towards the kitchen.

This diner was usually Kezner’s go-to place for dinner, usually grabbing a bite to eat with Rankev usually half an hour before his shift ended on the weekdays. It was pretty convenient as the diner and the old shop were almost right across from each other in the alleyway. The food was delicious, better than anything Kezner could whip up, and the atmosphere was calm and soothing.

The sound of clanging metal sounded as Rapheal prepared to start cooking Kezner’s usual. Kezner could only sigh at the familiar sound, but there was something missing. Though Rankev and him didn’t talk much and only knew each other for a year, they shared a deep connection and understanding that didn’t require them to speak, it wasn’t a stretch to say it was similar to a father-son bond. To him, Rankev was a proper father figure that was missing in his life after the incident. So to have this figure gone for an indefinite amount of time, Kezner was scared.

Sitting down in his usual stool in front of the counter, Kezner sighed with a heavy heart, he was somewhat even more lost than before. Shaking his head and giving a firm smack to both of his cheeks, he let out a deep breath by his nose.

Knowing the food would take some time, he decided to mentally recap what he learned of The Overlord. From what he understood from reading it today, it was based on techniques of five different weapons, referred to as The Five Warlords. The Five Warlords were the greatsword, dagger, halberd, war hammer, and bow and arrow. The first chapter of the Weapons Art was currently the only chapter accessible to him and most likely wouldn’t be able to move to the second chapter unless he mastered the first. To master the first chapter, he would have to master the basics of each individual weapon, alongside their own different stances and philosophies, however it didn’t matter the order.

Out of all five weapons, he took great interest in the halberd and war hammer. In mainstream works of fiction and fantasy, swords, daggers, and bows and arrows were overused and overdramatized, he wanted a change of weather. The halberd was a very versatile weapon as it had an axe, hook, and spike, its primary downside was its weight and speed.

The reason he took an interest in the war hammer was because in the variant of the weapon in The Five Warlords, it was used in short to medium range, and wasn’t like the other four. The other four required you to be rooted on the ground or force you to move in a linear fashion, the war hammer on the other hand had you always moving and bouncing on the balls of your feet, it was a pretty extreme form of combat. It was fast and highly mobile, the problem was that it didn’t have any piercing value and was difficult to defend with, it was purely offensive in close quarter combat.

Recalling the stances, Kezner couldn’t wait to start practicing, until it hit him that he now had two problems. The first one was that he didn’t really have any space to train, the old shop wasn’t all too big and the forge, though large, was full of equipment and he sure as hell didn’t want to break anything unless he wanted to face Rankev’s wrath. This problem wasn’t too hard to solve as he could always rent out a space, he didn’t have any use for money if he was most likely to die. He saw it as more of a long term investment, if he was able to survive the war thanks to The Overlord Weapons Art and rise up the ranks, then he would make more money than whatever he had now. The second problem was that he didn’t know where to get such weapons to begin with… unless he made them himself! His eyes brightened as he could envision everything coming together. If he made the weapons, then he could also customize them to his personal needs and interests.

Walking towards the counter from the kitchen, Raphael placed Kezner’s dish on the counter. It was a plate of egg fried rice, his father’s favorite. It also reminded him of when his mother used to cook it, it was one of the only things he remembered of his parents. Every passing day, the memories of his parents became blurrier, he feared that one day, he would wake up and forget the memories altogether. So he could only use things that triggered these memories to not forget, and the egg fried rice was one of them.

He savored the taste, though he had this dish more than a hundred times, he always tasted something different. It always somehow changed without changing, maybe Raphael added something different to it every time without his knowledge, or maybe he was starting to completely lose his sanity, but either way, he didn’t mind as long as he kept the memories.

Originally, Raphael was always confused as to why Kezner always ate the same thing over and over again, was it really that good? When Rankev came here to eat, he would order differently every time, whether he wanted something personally cooked or something off of the menu, yet Kezner was always eating the same plate of fried rice. Though he was curious, he knew better than to ask after seeing Kezner’s face. He had lived a long life and understood what face Kezner made when eating that plate of rice, it was a face of pain, a face of regret, a face of bliss, a face that conveyed the true elements of a mortal.

After eating every single grain of rice on the plate, Kezner felt that his heart had lightened a little, he wasn’t as lost, and now had his thoughts organized. Looking at the clock on the wall next to him, he saw that it was almost 2pm, he had about five and a half hours before having to head home. Pulling out his white G.B Card, Kezner intended to pay for his meal this time, as it was Rankev who always footed the bill.

“Heh heh, it’s on the house. Rankev’s visits alone have been keeping me open for the past decade, this is the least I can do to pay him back.” Raphael was adamant about letting Kezner eat free.

With a frown on his face, Kezner insisted as he pushed the card further towards Raphael. He didn’t know how to express himself with words in a situation like this, so that was the best he could do, albeit it seemed a bit aggressive. After eating at his diner for a year, Raphael understood Kezner’s intentions, and didn’t take the action to heart as he gave an amiable smile while scanning the card.

After saying goodbye, Kezner made his way to the door across the diner in the alleyway. After entering the shop and hearing the bells chime, Kezner went straight into the bathroom to change his clothes, as he wore more casual throwaway clothing. He always left a set of clothes in the forge as he didn’t want to get sweat and bad odors on his uniform, it would be embarrassing to buy an expensive uniform, only to show up as a smelly mess.

Kezner had already picked the first weapon of his Warlord Series, the halberd. He took out a piece of paper and a pencil, and started to sketch the very basics, the measurements. After that was complete and a diagram was made, he decided to start on the design itself. He wanted the halberd to hold a very modern militaristic and prideful look, he was planning to take the bad boy to war, so he might as well have it somewhat fit in. After scribbling and drawing for 15 minutes straight, he decided to finally get to work.

This first weapon wasn’t going to be his final product, far from it, it was only going to be a test weapon to get accustomed to the halberd, his current design was so that he could keep the original image in mind until it could be achieved.

Putting on his apron and safety goggles, Kezner picked up a thick metal rod from a rack, and used a power saw to cut off a decent portion. He was only going to use high-carbon steel, a very common material for forging weapons. Weighing it by hand, he thought it felt about right as he started up the coal forge.

The shop had two forges, a propane and coal forge. The propane forge was for quick and short term projects, like Luna’s request, while the coal forge required a lot more skill but allowed the smith to precisely control the temperature and get a feel for it. You had a lot more flexibility with a coal forge while you had more time efficiency with a propane forge, in this case, Kezner went with the coal forge.

He was planning on forging a halberd from scratch, and though he wasn’t exactly a newbie, he was an amateur, he didn’t know how long it would take to complete, but it shouldn’t take more than a few days. You have to keep in mind that he was short on time and only had a month before he was separated from the shop, so he only had about a month of work and practice on his halberd.

Once the coal forge was ready, Kezner left the portion of steel on the coal until it was a hot bright orange color. Picking it up with tongs, Kezner had decided to do everything manually, as this was his first serious and personal weapon, so he was going to oversee every small detail, even if it meant risking having to start over. This was also a learning experience as he would usually be guided by Rankev on any project, so it was his first time on his own. Like a chick being tossed out of a nest, it was time to see if he was able to flap his wings and soar on his own, or fall to his doom.

Placing the hot steel on the anvil, Kezner picked up a forging hammer, and started hammering the steel into a straight rectangular piece of metal with a rigid spike at the end. Then using a wedge, started puncturing a rectangular hole near the base of the spike, causing it to bulge out a little.

He had decided to make this halberd out of three parts, the very base consisted of the spike, hole and cone as one part. The next part would be the axe and hook portion, that was the point of the rectangular hole, so he could simply insert the axe then forge weld it together. The final part would be the haft (wooden handle), it would be made out of ash hardwood, it would be tapered and inserted into the cone of the first part, after that it would be riveted in place. These parts seemed simple, yet there were a bunch of steps in between, like heat treating and grinding.

After creating the hole and spike, Kezner moved on to the other end of the metal, the cone was going to be the most time consuming. Since the steel was cooling off, he had to reheat the bottom portion of the metal so he could shape it. After placing it in the coal forge for a little while, Kezner widened the portion somewhat into a fan shape, then held it vertically as he hammered the edge to a curve. Continuously hammering the curving edges, the open cone shape was finally completed, but he was still hammering to fix the rough edges of it. The rough shape of the first part was completed.

Looking at the time, he decided to call it a day. Though he still had an hour and a half until his shift usually ended, he was afraid that he would be so entranced in his work, that he would lose track of time and end up late. On top of that, he was pretty tired as he hadn’t even slept last night.

After reorganizing the tools and changing back into his school clothes Kezner felt a sense of pride and satisfaction well up inside of him, a very rare and unique feeling for him. This counteracted his default depressing mood, and actually felt a sense of motivation to look forward to. Forget about being tired, he was now somehow pumped with energy at the thought of finishing his halberd. However, he knew he couldn’t continue on today, so he simply left with his bookbag and left as he heard the bells chime once more.

Just as he was about to step out of the alleyway, he heard his stomach grumble, and since he was in a pretty upbeat mood, he felt it was appropriate to eat at Raphael’s diner once again today.

Entering the diner, he was surprised to see a familiar face, but he continued walking towards his usual stool, Kezner placed his bag to the side as always. He didn’t have to say anything for Raphael to know what to cook, though he was surprised to see Kezner again, he happily cooked.

“There you are! You finally decided to show up, huh?!” Gareth felt wronged as he pointed his finger at Kezner from across the diner, as he sat in a proper chair and table and not a stool in front of the counter.

Kezner was pretty surprised and confused as he slightly tilted his head and gave Gareth a questioning gaze while slightly frowning, “Huh? What’re you talking about? And why are you here?”

“You bastard, I visited that old shop of yours and knocked on your door all day! I heard you working on something, yet you didn’t even respond, and now you have the gall to ask why am I here?!” Gareth stood up as he took off his blue blazer and started rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down shirt, he looked like he was about to start fighting.

“Oh. Sorry.” Kezner gave a simple apology in his monotone voice as he turned his head back to face the kitchen that was past the counter. Gareth on the other hand was speechless, “Sorry? Just a sorry?! Kezner, you’re lucky that you’re stronger than me, or else I would give you the beating of a lifetime!”

Just as Gareth was about to explode in anger at Kezner, Kezner decided to ask a question to calm down the situation, “So why did you visit?”

Gareth paused as he answered in a cooled down fashion, “Why did I visit your shop? Oh I was just curious and I had nothing better to do, so I took a short walk over here, I don’t even live that far from here. I was even more curious when I saw the news vans almost blocking the street a few minutes ago, it was a coincidence that you got out right after they left.”

“Oh.” Kezner gave another simple reply as his food was almost ready. Gareth decided to move and sit next to Kezner on another stool as he was curious to what he ordered, only to be surprised that it was just egg fried rice. Remembering Kezner’s situation, his enthusiasm was slightly doused, and felt some pity.

As if he felt that gaze, the gaze that he hated, his eyes sharply stared at Gareth from the corner of his eyes, shooting daggers. Gareth felt wronged as he didn’t know what he had done that got Kezner mad, “Does he not like me being this close to him? No, I was sitting next to him during lunch and he wasn’t this mad...”

As the fried rice was placed in front Kezner, he ate it with his usual face bleeding his contradictory emotions. Gareth didn't say anything as he got his food a few seconds later and started eating as well.