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“Haaaaaaaa” Frost who seemed to be the only one in decent spirits let out a loud sigh drawing all eyes towards him.

Thanks to the mid-level health potion and the glorious DP he absorbed after killing the cyclops Frost was looking pretty well for someone that was sneak attacked by a B-rank rindar. Most of his serious injuries were healed leaving just bruises and exhaustion.

He’d had enough of this negative atmosphere; it sucked out all the joy he had during his duel earlier.

“Yes, we lost more men and woman than expected and our upper ranked forces are sporting innumerable injuries and even Hamon is requiring the personal attention of Gilianna, but the enemy is in a far worse state.” Frost loudly proclaimed, seriously annoyed by the dour atmosphere.

He understood their reasons as unlike him who was technically untethered to Furano and the Northrend empire they were, losing here carried far more weight for them than it did for him. Thus, their fears and worries were to be expected but, in the end, they served no purpose, moping wasn’t going to improve the situation and in fact it may even make it worse.

“Yes we were hurt but in return we massacred a vast amount of D and C-rank ogres, trolls and minotaurs. All powerful monsters that made up a large chunk of the horde’s brutal charging power as well provide a vast amount of materials; meat, hides, bones you name it, veritable treasure troves.” Frost’s loud voice and positive attitude seemed to slowly infect those around the strategy table, the young officers in particular saw their fists start to clench, and smiles grow on their faces revealing prideful and somewhat greedy expressions.

“But most of all we severely weakened their upper cast, the B-rank ogre, dead! The B-rank cyclops, dead! The leading rindar, missing another arm! The second rindar is now blinded in one eye and the B-rank poison herald sports serious internal injuries thanks to our mighty Colonel Hamon who faced the three of them alone after guarding the frontlines from the endless horde!” Frost’s voice rose several octaves as he continued and he waved his fists in fighting gestures, inspiring the officers.

“We may have been hurt but the enemy was wounded. This wave may have been hard and costly but the next few should be a breeze. Our mage corps will be present, and the enemy B-ranks will be licking their wounds in fear, we have potions and healers whereas they do not.” Frost’s grand speech ended with a strong conviction before he turned to Hamon who couldn’t help but feel inspired along with the rest of the officers. A mad smile could be seen on his face and his eyes revealed a blazing fire that didn’t really match someone of his age.

.....

“Ma’am what’s the Colonel’s prognosis, will he be in fighting shape soon?” Frost asked Gilianna with a respectful tone knowing thanks to his talks with Leo, Artemis and Jessie about the sway this old woman held in the frost wolf battalion.

Gilianna smiled from ear to ear and subconsciously nodded in approval to Frost’s attitude before answering. “As long as he behaves the brat should be back to full strength by tomorrow.” She harshly slapped Hamon’s back causing him to cough and blush from embarrassment. He was a senior and the grand commander to the forces here in Furano, yet he was just called a brat in front of all his subordinates.

Gilianna gave Frost a thumbs up, greatly approving of his speech that dramatically turned the mood around. Frost gave a respectful nod in response before returning to his seat, he’d done what he set out to do. Now the atmosphere was far more comfortable and far more in line with what it should be after he managed to solo kill a B-rank monster.

Thanks to Frost’s powerful speech the meeting went well, the next wave’s strategy was hashed out and the squad reports were dealt with quickly. After 20 minutes it was brought to a close and everyone broke off to prepare for the upcoming wave.

Since Hamon needed direct treatment from Gilianna, Douglas would be taking command upon the Northern wall in his absence. Though he wasn’t at his peak condition and was banned from entering combat he could oversee the battlefield as a commander thus inspiring the troops.

The first thing Frost did once the meeting was over was visit the equipment repair workshops. His primary glaive the half step 4 star weapon was damaged during his bout with the cyclops and needed to be repaired lest it break completely at the worst possible moment. His secondary glaive that actually slew the cyclops was still in good condition -another adventurer that was under his assigned squad was kind enough to retrieve it for him while Bagua assisted him through the gate- but it was a tad too low in quality to repeatedly face off against upper C-ranks and ultimately B-ranks. Unfortunately there wasn’t a single smith in Furano capable of forging 4 star weapons and equipment of that quality was still locked in the dungeon menu thus he’d need to make do with repairing his half step 4 star glaive whenever it was damaged.

Given that Borris was one of the best smiths in Furano as well as the original creator of his weapon Frost sought him out.

Like the food court the repair workshops were split into different areas depending on the equipment’s quality and type. And to be expected he found Borris at the highest area with his hammer repeatedly hammering against a red hot sword fresh out the forge. Sweat was clear on the old dwarf’s face and his body was obviously tired given the bags under his eyes but his expression was almost fervent as though he was chasing after something madly, his eyes revealing a fierce fire that was commonly associated with youth.

One of his grandsons was working the counter and recognised Frost almost immediately. It was hard to forget his appearance after all.

“Mr Frost right, are you here for new weapons or repair work.” The young dwarf asked in a loud voice as the surrounding area was filled with the clanging of metal and the roars of furnaces.

“Repair work, my glaive was damaged while facing the cyclops.” Frost spoke loudly in reply while retrieving the cracked glaive from his storage ring.

The young dwarf’s eyes lit up when he heard the word cyclops, but he also subtly frowned. B-rank monsters really needed 4 star weapons to beat otherwise there was a good chance of weapon damage. For Frost to fight against a cyclops and live was mightily impressive so he couldn’t help but feel awed however he was a blacksmith and knew that he nor anyone in his family could provide him with a weapon truly suitable for fending of such foes thus the frown.

“Alright understood, I’ll have my grandfather see to it right after he’s done with his current request, should be ready before the next wave starts.” The young dwarf picked up the glaive and analysed the damage thoroughly. Only the blade was damaged, the shaft and engraving were unmarred so it should be a simple job even with the high quality materials.

Just when the young dwarf was about to fashion Frost a ticket receipt and catalogue the request as per normal Borris who was previously working at the forge walked up silently and took the glaive from his grandson’s hands.

The old smith’s eyes that were full of fire while he forged became even more pronounced as he analysed the glaive thoroughly leaving not a millimetre unchecked. His grandson was at first shocked by the sudden retrieval but held back his tongue the moment he saw the look in his grandfather’s eyes. Frost who didn’t know what was going on also stood in silence, waiting for Borris to speak.

After 2 minutes or so a large grin grew on Borris’s face and the fire in his eyes emboldened further. He turned to look at Frost, revealing the fire within him. This caused Frost to shiver before he smiled in reply. He recognised that fire, it was the same fire he had when he was training and was on the brink of breaking through. Borris seemed to be on the cusp of becoming a 4 star blacksmith.

“Do you have a backup glaive?” Borris asked as his hands caressed the glaive in his hands, feeling the material, connecting with it.

“I do.” Frost thus removed the 3 star glaive he purchased through the dungeon menu. It was made of duram alloy pretty much through out thus it was quite robust but lacked affinity with his chakra and magic and wasn’t as sharp as his primary one but still a solid weapon.

Borris looked over the weapon briefly, nodding subconsciously in regards to the craftsmanship.

“A good weapon perfectly forged.” He commented in appreciation, duram and its alloys were fine materials and easy to work with but near impossible to form anything higher than 3 star.

His eyes then looked back at the glaive he forged all those years ago, the fire within him roaring out.

“Will you be alright with that weapon for the next 48 hours or so?” Borris asked puzzling his grandson who knew that even a through repair on the glaive’s blade would only take an hour.

Frost brought his hand up to his chin and thought about the next 48 hours.

‘The B-rank monsters should be taking a less aggressive approach for a while my opponents will mainly be C-ranks.’ An upper 3 star weapon should be enough for such opponents he surmised.

“As long as nothing unexpected happens it should be fine but any longer there may be an issue.” Frost answered with a serious look. After 48 hours a B-rank or B-ranks stronger than the rindars may arrive. The image of that frost giant Valend who was yet to appear came to the forefront of his mind. If he had to face such a monster with just his 3 star duram glaive there’d be no chance of him being able fight on equal-ish footing.

Borris was silent for a moment as his mind rang through numerous simulations.

“I can’t promise anything since it’s unknown territory but if you’re willing I’ll do my best to meet that deadline.” Borris spoke with conviction, his expression showing his fierce desire to try.

Frost frowned initially before smiling, whether he had an upper 3-star glaive or his half step 4-star glaive Valend was still beyond him, he’d still lose regardless so taking a chance was better than nothing.

“Very well show me your best work Borris, I have great expectations.” Frost let out a laugh as the look in his eyes mirrored that of Borris’s. The two men thus shook hands sealing the deal however Borris’s grandson was left out the loop, his head tilted to the side in utter confusion.

“What’s happening?” He asked curiously.

His grandfather thus turned towards him with a wide smile and mad expression.

“I’m going to attempt to reforge this glaive into a 4-star weapon.”