Chapter 21: Materials and Enhancement

Sophia’s words eased Mo Wen’s taut nerves slightly, yet he remained vigilant, his gaze fixed on the female automaton behind the desk. Should she exhibit even the slightest hint of aggression, he would not hesitate to strike. Tonight, every attack he had faced had come from automatons, leaving him no room for complacency.

“Is she a new member?” Mo Wen asked warily.

The female automaton, Anna, seemed accustomed to his hostility and responded with a bright smile. “I’m Anna Strauss, the smith and physician of the sanctuary.”

“If you ever need anything, feel free to come to me,” she added warmly. “Within my capabilities, I will do my best to assist you.”

Her gentle demeanor, clear logic, and articulate speech stood in stark contrast to the frenzied soldier automatons who attacked anyone on sight.

Relaxing his grip on the metal sword hilt, Mo Wen’s eyes flickered between Anna and Sophia.

“Anna’s situation is quite unique,” Sophia explained. “She’s different from those rebellious automatons—you can think of her as a ‘stray automaton.’”

“The reasons are a bit complicated and can’t be explained quickly,” she continued. “But rest assured, Anna would never harm anyone. I guarantee this as the sanctuary’s administrator.”

With Sophia’s assurance, Mo Wen shrugged and withdrew his hand from the sword hilt, his gaze curiously studying the female automaton. She wore denim overalls stained with black smudges, and the papers on the desk depicted blueprints resembling mechanical arms.

Retracting his gaze, Mo Wen spoke. “Miss Anna? I’m sorry, I just came from outside and am a bit on edge.”

“That’s alright,” Anna replied with a shake of her head and a smile.

With the misunderstanding cleared, Sophia relaxed and quickly asked, “Little Anna, do we still have any longswords in inventory?”

“Yes, please wait a moment,” Anna nodded and turned into the adjacent small room.

When she returned, she held a sheathed longsword in her hand.

“Is this for Mr. Mo Wen? I estimated his build and arm length and chose this one—it should be suitable.”

“Thank you,” Mo Wen said, accepting the sword and examining it closely.

The black sword sheath was unremarkable, but as he grasped the hilt and drew the blade, a clear gleam of light reflected in his eyes.

His reconnaissance skill activated, detailed information appeared before him.

——

[High-Quality Standard Longsword]: Forged primarily from meticulously tempered jet-black metal, this standard longsword boasts excellent craftsmanship. While it lacks any extraordinary features, its toughness and sharpness are commendable.

The unique forging technique allows for multiple reforgings by incorporating special materials to enhance its quality.

——

“A fine sword!” Mo Wen murmured, his fingers tracing the smooth, cool blade, unable to suppress his admiration.

Compared to this “High-Quality Standard Longsword,” his own crudely fashioned metal sword was hardly worthy of the name—a mere broken firewood stick at best.

“I’m glad you’re satisfied,” Anna smiled softly.

“Miss Anna, Sophia mentioned that you can reinforce weapons using ‘materials’—could you explain what those materials are?”

Having inspected his new weapon, Mo Wen sheathed the sword and turned to Anna.

She explained, “How to say... precious ores, special biological tissues and organs, and so forth, all count as materials.”

“However, those are difficult to acquire. The easiest materials to obtain come from those soldier automatons.”

“Mr. Mo Wen, I assume you’ve encountered some soldier automatons. They each wield different weapons, and a small portion carry very special ones.”

“You can bring those special weapons back to serve as materials for weapon enhancement.”

Though Anna herself was an automaton, her tone when speaking of the soldier automatons was tinged with a faint disdain, as if referring to strangers rather than kin.

Mo Wen wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but being new here, he didn’t press further.

He nodded and then looked to Sophia.

“Sophia, you mentioned an old noble warehouse earlier—where is it exactly?”

“If it’s convenient, could someone take me nearby?”

“You’re setting off so soon?” Sophia asked in surprise, not expecting such decisiveness from Mo Wen.

Then she nodded gently. “Of course, that’s what we should do.”

“Hank is the hunter here who knows Clark Town best.”

“Though he’s not very strong in direct combat, he has many survival skills and can provide ranged support. He’d be the best person to guide you to the old warehouse.”

“However, he’s currently preparing medicine for little Wendy, so it will take some time.”

“You must be tired from your journey. Why not rest for a while during this time?”

“...Alright,” Mo Wen agreed after some thought.

After all, he was unfamiliar with the area and couldn’t just wander blindly.

Clark Town was fraught with danger.

Besides, he had some experiments to try with the Thousand Wind Sword technique.

Sophia’s voice softened: “Please, come with me. I’ll show you to your room.”

…

The room Sophia arranged for Mo Wen was near the great furnace.

It was a decent-sized room, likely once a storeroom, with piles of discarded mechanical parts in the corner.

There was a wooden bed, table, and chair—no other furniture.

Mo Wen paid no mind to the living conditions.

He glanced at Freya across from him. “Why haven’t you said a word since we met Hank?”

“Hmm…” Freya ruffled her hair in mild frustration. “Fated to be forgotten acquaintances, it’s better to crush such worries before they even sprout.”

“...” Mo Wen was at a loss for a reply.

He knew of Freya’s peculiarity—others often instinctively ignored her presence.

But according to her words, even those who knew her would do the same?

If so, that was an unbearably lonely existence.

“I understand.”

To end the heavy topic, Mo Wen shifted the conversation.

“Miss Freya, what do you think of this sanctuary?”

“Sophia is no ordinary person,” Freya said softly. “Her expressions and mannerisms are not what you’d expect from a common farming or working-class family.”

“She may have been a noble in the past.”

Yet, why would a noble establish such a sanctuary and protect ordinary folk?

The question lingered in Mo Wen’s mind.

It wasn’t prejudice.

In this era, nobles saw non-nobles as cattle or tools.

Would anyone risk their life to protect cattle or tools?

It was possible, but only if they were indispensable.

“Also, that automaton named Anna... she feels more like a living person than the fully automated ones I’ve seen before.”