Back in Esia, at Osgar's Workshop.
The familiar scent of burning metal and oil filled the air as Arlon stepped inside the dimly lit workshop.
Tools were scattered across the wooden workbenches, and half-finished weapons gleamed under the flickering lanterns.
Behind one of the tables, hunched over a chunk of metal, Osgar barely looked up as Arlon entered.
"Hah, you're back in one piece."
Arlon smirked. "Yeah. We handled the threats. There won't be any more issues around here."
He had come alone—just to report. There was no need for the others to come along since there was no reward waiting for them anyway.
Or so he had thought.
Osgar grunted, wiping his hands on a rag before reaching into his pile of scraps.
"Here, take this for your troubles."
Arlon instinctively caught the object tossed his way. It was a dull, irregularly shaped metal piece—something that looked more like raw ore than an actual material.
His brows furrowed as he turned it over in his hands.
