Chapter 40: Notice! From Author [Do Not Unlock] Mistake In Chapters

It had been a week since the last delivery to Elian. The forge was quiet again, save for the occasional clink of tools and the low hum of the furnace. Dory and Horg had set out early that morning, traveling to Foothills to gather the raw materials they needed to make iron ingots.

The path was rocky, lined with sparse trees and patches of grass that swayed lightly in the morning breeze. Horg had loaded a cart with sacks of iron ore, coal, and a few bags of flux. Dory walked beside him, keeping pace, examining the ore closely, testing its weight and feel.

"You’ve got a good eye for quality," Horg said without looking at him. "You can tell the difference between decent and poor iron even without touching the fire."

Dory adjusted his glasses and smiled slightly. "It comes with practice... and a little patience." He paused, kicking at a loose stone along the path. "You’ve taught me a lot already. I just have to keep paying attention."

Horg gave a low grunt of agreement. "Most people don’t. They just hit metal and call it iron. You actually look at what you’re doing."

They walked in silence for a while. The sun rose higher, and the shadows shifted under the trees. Dory took the opportunity to glance at the system he carried in his mind, reviewing the service points, earnings, and the status of his extended deal with the girls. Five hundred copper coins every month. Not a massive amount, but steady and reliable. It would allow them to continue making snacks and working with the forge without worrying about running out of funds.

"...Dory?" Horg’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to sit on that money like some banker, or are you going to learn to get more?"

Dory laughed softly. "A little of both, maybe. I’ve been using part of my free time to figure out how to make coins disappear into the system directly. It’s... handy."

Horg shook his head but didn’t argue. "I don’t care. Just don’t get lazy."

They arrived at the mining area shortly after, the foothills opening up to a rocky plateau where miners had been extracting ore for generations. Horg had his list ready—pick up good iron ore, enough coal to fuel the forge for several weeks, and a small bag of flux for refining. Dory helped as much as he could, hefting sacks, examining the ore, and learning the subtle cues that Horg noticed in weight, texture, and color.

"You see this one?" Horg said, holding up a chunk. "Too heavy, too brittle. Won’t make a good ingot. Keep it for scrap if you want, but it won’t hold in the forge."

Dory examined it. "...I can feel the difference," he said. "It’s heavier than the other pieces, but the grain looks uneven."

"Exactly," Horg said, nodding. "Good eye."

Once the cart was loaded, they started their way back to the village, moving slowly through the foothills. Dory kept his eyes on the surroundings, making sure the cart didn’t tip over, that the ore remained stable, and that the horses were steady. There was little room for error, and Horg trusted him to be vigilant.

They stopped midway when Horg noticed a small trading post by the side of the path. A few sacks of salt, some dried fruits, and a handful of tools were on display. Dory had been practicing haggling during the past week, small things like buying extra flour for snacks or trading minor goods. Today, he stepped forward.

"How much for the salt?" he asked the trader.

"Twenty coppers a sack," the man replied.

Dory leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Fifteen, and I’ll take two. No offense, but I know your supplier sells it for less than that."

The trader paused, narrowing his eyes. "You’re bold for a kid."

"I’ve been around the market," Dory said calmly. "I know numbers. I know value. You sell it at twenty, but I don’t see how that benefits me—or you."

The man hesitated, then finally sighed. "Fine. Fifteen for two. Take it and leave."

Dory smiled slightly and handed over the coins. Horg clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "See? You learn fast. That’s how it’s done."

Dory kept his focus, noting everything. Numbers, tone, timing—it all mattered. The skill would be useful when negotiating future sales of iron, snacks, or anything else they needed. He tucked the purchased sacks onto the cart and climbed back beside Horg.

"You’ve been learning," Horg said. "Good. You’ll need it."

"...I know," Dory replied, adjusting the straps on the cart. "It’s all part of the job."

By mid-afternoon, the village was finally in sight. The sun was lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the hills, and the road back to the forge was dustier than the path they had taken. Dory kept the cart steady while Horg gave directions to the horses, ensuring the load stayed balanced. The village was quiet, most people inside their homes or tending to evening chores. The familiar smoke from the forge drifted into the air as they approached, signaling home.

On the main road, a carriage passed them, slowing slightly as the driver saw the heavy load of materials. Horg raised a hand, signaling them to stop.

The carriage drew closer, the driver leaning out slightly. "You need a lift back?" he asked.

Horg nodded. "Yes. Keep the cart steady; we’ll put the sacks inside."

Dory jumped down to help load the ore, coal, and flux into the carriage while Horg kept the horses in place. The driver worked efficiently, securing the bags to prevent movement during the journey. Once everything was loaded, Horg stepped up beside Dory, and the driver nodded toward them.

"All set," he said. "Hop in. We’ll take you home."

Dory climbed into the carriage next to Horg, brushing dust off his hands. He felt the weight of the past week—work, learning, negotiation, and planning—settling in. They had achieved a lot, and now the next phase would begin. Snacks, iron, and all the little deals they would make depended on what they had learned, but for now, the moment was quiet, contained.

The carriage moved forward, slowly at first, then picking up speed as it followed the path back to the village. Dory looked at the bags of materials beside him and the sunlight falling over the foothills, reflecting off the polished surface of the cart. A small smile touched his lips.

’...We’re ready,’ he thought. ’...Now we just keep building.’

Horg glanced at him briefly and gave a small nod. "Good. You’re learning faster than I thought."

Dory returned the nod, then shifted slightly, checking the system in his mind. The service points, the monthly coins from the girls, the ongoing resources—they were all accounted for. There was a sense of order he hadn’t felt a week ago, and for once, things seemed manageable.

"...500 coins," Horg said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "You can multiply that when we get home if you want."

Dory nodded. "Already planned," he replied. The corners of his mouth curved up slightly. The knowledge of how to handle money, convert it, and multiply it safely in his system gave him a small but significant advantage. Every coin counted, and every decision he made now could grow into something bigger.

The carriage bounced along the road, taking them back to the village. The sun dipped lower behind the hills, painting the sky with streaks of orange and gold. Inside the cart, Dory leaned back, briefly closing his eyes, thinking about the forge, the girls, the deals, and the weeks ahead. The journey had been long, the work hard, but the outcome—steady income, trust, knowledge—was worth it.

When the carriage finally turned onto the familiar path leading to the village, Dory readied himself. Tomorrow, work would continue. Snacks, iron, and the planning that went with it would occupy every waking hour. But for now, they could rest. Horg and Dory exchanged a glance, quiet but full of understanding.

And as the village came into view, with the smoke rising into the evening sky, Dory felt a sense of calm. The week’s lessons had been hard-earned, but he was ready for the next step.