The hammerings finally came to an end. The fire in the furnace leaped in joy, illuminating two strips of shadow on the wall. The witchers were curled up, holding their blades in both hands. They pointed their swords at each other, and they slowly moved around, like snakes that bared their fangs, waiting to pounce on their prey.
They attacked at the same time, lashing their blades out. The witchers slashed downward, upward, sideways, and they thrusted their blades ahead. The air itself seemed to be wounded by the attacks, and the fight looked like a blur.
The blades danced in the air, clashing against each other. This high speed battle sent sparks flying everywhere as the fighters clashed, as if they were in a dance and not a battle. They moved at inhuman speeds, and soon, there were nothing but two silhouettes leaping across the shop, the shadows of their blades swimming on the walls.
A long while later, the blur came to a stop, and the witchers sheathed their blades. They stood in silence for a moment, calming their hearts down.
“Not bad, kid. You managed to dodge a few of my attacks.” Auckes smiled. “And you were just that bit slower. If you had closed in that much more, you would have hit me.”
Roy shook his head. It might look like a small gap, but it was impossible to bridge. At least not soon. Still, he could hold his own for a while against Auckes now. Roy touched his new armor again.
Unlike his old and broken leather armor, this black armor was simple and gleaming. The sleeves were gone, and a bronze manticore button was sewn in the middle of the shirt. It felt like quality leather. Roy was hit three times during the sparring, but not even a mark was left.
His old tight-fitting pants were changed as well. It was yellow in color, and there were patterns of scales on it. It might look bloated, but in reality, the pants fitted him perfectly. It did not hinder his movements either.
He used to wear short deerskin boots, but now they were changed into long boots that covered most of the lower legs. The armor, pants, and boots were the Manticore School’s set, and Berengar had just finished making them.
Letho, Auckes, and Serrit strongly recommended him to make it according to their weakest member’s size, so Berengar made the armor to fit Roy. It was not flashy, but it provided great protection. Weapons like standard steel swords would find this armor hard to break. Besides, it was lighter than chain mail, and it did not hinder his movements at all.
“So, the armor works fine, Roy? Does it fit you?”
“Of course. You never disappoint, Master Berengar,” Roy praised. “This armor is great enough to last me a century.”
“That’s good to hear.” Berengar heaved a sigh of relief.
“A djinn, huh?” Berengar looked miffed as well. He had not even seen an elemental for as long as he lived.
Letho interrupted, “Let’s put the children aside. It’s an impossible dream anyway. I can see that you love blacksmithing more than drinks and requests. We don’t need you to return to the fold or join us either.” Letho stared at him. “Just think of this as a partnership. A request. You can make more equipment for us.”
Roy persuaded him, “We’ll be finding even more blueprints, and not just the Viper or Manticore School’s either. There’s the Bear School and even Cat School blueprints waiting for us. We need a reliable master blacksmith to keep working with us.”
Roy took a step back. It would make persuasion easier if Berengar were to take the first step.
However, Berengar did not give them a straight answer. He did not refuse, nor did he agree.
“I’ll think about it.” Berengar was obviously interested, but he declined in the end. He had seen too much in life to be persuaded that easily. “Friends, it’s an honor to work with you, and I’ll never forget what we did at the brothel, but I can never return to Kaer Morhen.”
It was regrettable, but the witchers did not press further.
“We’ll stay in Novigrad for a while. You’re always welcome if you change your mind. We’ll provide the blueprints and materials. All you have to do is make the equipment.”
Roy opened up a spot for him if he ever wanted to join them. They had one last meal before the Viper School witchers left Vizima and rode their way north.
Berengar saw them off, and he fell into his own thoughts.
End of arc.
***
***