It was the Aspirant Knight who broke the silence.

"Well then, what else do you want?"

"Huh?"

"Is that the only thing you want in life? To return home?" The Knight had a serious expression on his face. "Setting aside the matter of the Elixir, none of us know where your home is. So what do you desire in the meantime?"

James pressed his lips together. What he wanted in life… After the discussion of marriage, a wife and family was certainly something he wanted, eventually. But the biggest thing that came to mind…

"I want to create. I want to use my Classes to produce the best products I can." The Smith recalled that night so long ago, at dinner with his parents and his little sister, pushing food around his plate and thinking about what the Enchanter Meridox had told him. That most enchantments were only about ten percent of the theoretical maximum, that crafted goods were held back because different Classes were needed to create them. How the sword Jared had forged and Meridox had enchanted was only a tenth of what it could have been, if it had been perfectly created.

He wanted to do better than that. He wanted to see how far he could push it.

The Knight leaned forward, grinning. "That, that I can help you with. Let me tell you what I want, now."

James was puzzled. "But, m'lord, didn't you say you wanted to become a Count?"

The Knight nodded. "That's correct, but I will explain how I intend to do that."

And so the Knight, with interjections from the Steward, explained how the Knight's Tournament of Iberteria worked.

Every year, the Knights of the Capital gathered in the Arena, the largest in any known Kingdom, to put on shows of skill and might. The main event was the Tournament of Duels. One on one, Knights would do battle, the winners continuing on until it was determined who the strongest Knight was. And that Knight would win a boon from the Crown.

"And you would ask to be promoted?"

"No, that's not how it works."

The Aspirant Knight continued. By winning the Tournament, he would seek to enter the Royal Guard, an organization that was superior to the Knight's Order itself. The Royal Guard served the Crown directly, while the Knight's Order served the Kingdom.

"Does everyone who wins the Tournament join the Royal Guard?"

"No," the Steward said, "only the best of the best are accepted, those who demonstrate skill, might, ingenuity, resourcefulness, and a keen mind. Those who win the Tournament are often simply the strongest."

"I have fought in the Tournament eight times, and eight times I was defeated in the first round," the Knight admitted, frowning. "Those Knights with a second combat Class have an overwhelming advantage in the duels; one I have never been able to overcome, despite my training."

James wanted to ask what his second Class was, but held his tongue. After the drama during his trial last week, it would have been in poor taste for him to ask another about the details of their Classes.

"That said, the answer is obvious."

James furrowed his brow. Was it?

The Knight looked at him meaningfully.

"Uh, is it?" he asked.

He could feel the Steward rolling his eyes behind him.

But the Knight simply nodded. "Yes. Even you, wielding a war hammer of 'Very Low' quality, were a significant threat when we found you in the mountains. If you hadn't already been nearly dead, and your armor broken, I imagine it would have been difficult to subdue you."

"Uh huh…" James wasn't so sure about that.

"Didn't you say you slayed a dragon in that Dungeon?" the Steward said.

James winced at the reminder, and his right hand clenched tightly.

"Yes, but…" The Knight cut him off, waving a hand.

"My plan is to have you craft for me enchanted weapons and armor, stronger than any other in the land, and win the Tournament, displaying appropriate might and resourcefulness to merit inclusion in the Royal Guard. Such an appointment would come with automatic, immediate promotion to Viscount, and from that position it wouldn't be too hard to acquire lands. My marriage prospects would also improve significantly, and promotion to Count is reasonable to expect within my lifetime."

"My Lord…" the Steward trailed off.

"That reminds me, what did the Corto Order's Smith think of James' skills?"

James sat tensely as the Steward detailed how unskilled James was, and the amount of training he would need to produce crafts of 'High' quality.

The Knight sat with a neutral expression as he listened, giving no sign of his thoughts.

There was several minutes of tense silence after the Steward finished his report, and the Knight thought.

Silence that was broken with a sigh.

"Well, it is what it is." He looked James in the eye. "You will simply have to be trained as expeditiously as possible. Tell me, what boosts do your Classes give you?" He held up a hand, stopping James from speaking. "I know about your oath. Neither I nor Sebastian will speak of this with anyone else. I don't want anyone else knowing your Classes, either, so worry not."

James swallowed, then spoke, carefully not mentioning the name of his second Class. "From Smith: boosts to Strength, Dexterity, and Endurance. From my… other Class: boosts to Dexterity, Willpower, and Intelligence."

The Knight's eyes widened. "Six boosts? Impressive." Then he took a deep breath, let it out in a massive sigh, and relaxed slightly. "A boost to Intelligence is most fortunate, especially at your level. Your training should go quickly. We will manage to miss this year's tournament, but by next year, you will produce for me armor and arms to seize victory in the Duels."

The smiling Knight pulled a small, portable desk, a sheet of paper, and writing utensils.

"Sebastian, I won't have you distract yourself writing while driving the carriage." "My Lord…" the older man protested.

"I won't have it. Now, Smith James, tell me your Skills and their levels."

"Er, my Lord…" the younger man protested.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Worry not, the notes will be burned before we reach our lodgings for the night."

James gulped. "Yes, m'lord. Well then…"

Class 1: Smith Level 16 +Strength +Dexterity +Endurance

[Forging] — level 5.

[Smelting] — level 5.

[Product Testing] — level 6.

[Ambidextrous] — level 3.

[Filigree] — level 6.

[Heat Resistance] — level 8.

[Nerves of Steel] — level 7.

[Sharpening] — level 2.

[Ore Identification] — level 4.

[Water Identification] — level 2.

[Sound Resistance] — level 5.

[Joinery] — level 1.

[Template Memorization] — level 2.

[Appraisal] — level 1.

[Mining] — level 1.

[Fuel Identification] — level 1.

[Quenching] — level 1.

[Cementation] — level 1.

[Stubbornness] — level 9.

[Tough] — level 3.

Class 2: Enchanter Level 16 +Dexterity +Willpower + Intelligence

[Enchantment Testing] — level 6.

[Persistence] — level 9.

[Channeling] — level 2.

[Mana Recovery] — level 1.

[Basic Elemental Enchanting] — level 7.

[Aqua Magia] — level 3.

[Essence Manipulation] — level 5.

[Enchantment Repair] — level 2.

[Water Identification] — level 2.

[Substrate Analysis] — level 3.

[Mana Manipulation] — level 9.

[Enchantment Activation] — level 9.

[Intermediate Elemental Enchanting] — level 1.

[Enchantment Design] — level 2.

[Enchantment Analysis] — level 2.

[Appraisal] — level 1.

[Template Memorization] — level 2.

Synergy Skills:

[Product Testing] — level 6.

[Water Identification] — level 2.

[Efficient Crafting (Smithing and Enchanting)] — level 6.

[Appraisal] — level 1.

[Design] — level 3.

[Design Memorization] — level 1.

[Design Copying] — level 1.

[Material Identification] — level 1.

[Technique: Hammer Strike] — level 6.

The Knight bit his lip, looking down at the paper detailing the Smith and Enchanter's Skills.

"[Stubbornness], [Persistence], and [Tough]. Unbelievable…"

"Er, my Lord, do you know what the Skills do?" James asked.

The Knight jerked his head up, as though he had forgotten that the Smith was there. He cleared his throat.

"Ahem. Yes, those skills function similarly to Class boosts. Each level in [Stubbornness] is roughly the same as a Class level boost to Willpower, [Persistence] to Endurance, and [Tough] to Vitality." He lapsed into silence again, and his gaze fell down to the paper. "I spent a long time trying to acquire [Persistence], [Tough], and [Strong]…"

He took a deep breath and blew it out between his lips, frustrated. Looking back at James, he continued.

"Skills like that are good. Really good. But they can only be acquired in near-death experiences. They become somewhat easier to acquire the more of them you have, but, again, they can only be acquired in near-death experiences."

He tapped the paper with his finger.

"To have [Tough] at all, you must have been beaten nearly to death."

The Smith reflected on his misadventures in the Dungeon. Here, on the surface, with other people, his memories of the Dungeon felt unreal. Almost like a dream.

Or a nightmare.

He nodded, feeling awkward that he felt so composed about it.

"I guess I was lucky."

"More like incredibly unfortunate," the Steward corrected sternly. "Nine levels in [Persistence] is absurd."

The Aspirant Knight shook his head, refocusing. "Indeed. Your Skills are generally incommensurate with your Class levels. But that's easy enough to correct: some basic instruction and a fair bit of training and practice will bring you along, and with such high Intelligence and Endurance, well, long hours shouldn't be a problem."

He looked over James' shoulder at the Steward. "Sebastian, once we're settled in, see that James begins receiving instruction in Smithing as soon as possible. Sometime before the winter solstice we'll sit down and plan out the armor and weapons best suited for the Tournament, and then Smith James will spend the following three months creating them."

The Knight looked back at the Smith, and his face grew serious. "After that… you would be more than welcome to remain my retainer, of course."

James felt his face harden. "I am thankful, m'lord, but I still want to go home."

The Knight nodded and rubbed his hand along his chin. "I see. Well, feel free to look into things and figure out where you came from, and if you figure it out, and still feel that way… You can simply repay the debt according to the contract. I will honor it, of course."

The Aspirant Knight, of course, was well aware that a debt of one hundred thousand gold dollars was simply impossible to repay for any Smith or Enchanter.

He froze. For a Smith who was also an Enchanter, however…

He was doing this because he couldn't afford custom enchanted gear suitable for winning the Tournament of Duels.

He thought another moment, as the other two men in the carriage with him sat silently, and then let the concern go.

It was a win-win situation for himself, after all.

If the boy never managed to repay the debt, he would simply remain a retainer, and the 'repayments' would simply be coin in his own pocket, to be used to rise through the ranks of the nobility.

If, somehow, the boy started producing goods valuable enough to get close to repaying the debt, Suero had first right of refusal. Sure, he would have to take the goods to the Merchant's Guild for a fair valuation, but he could buy them for only twenty percent of the fair-value. He could at least prevent anyone else from benefiting from the boy's synergistic Classes. And if indeed the boy repaid his debt and left his service… That was also fine, so long as it was after the Tournament of Duels. Once this last hurdle was overcome, he could rely on his own talents to continue rising.

He felt bad about coercing the boy, of course. He was awfully naïve. But that was the way of the world: there are users, and the used.

As promised, the notes were indeed burned to ashes before they reached the lodging village that evening.

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