After registering his information and submitting his application for work to gain experience, Nym made his way to the city's blacksmithing center, where both magical and non-magical items and weapons were crafted. His goal was to deliver Lester the reward he had promised him—a form of compensation for breaking their previous agreement. Naturally, that reward came in the form of World Essence Stones.
He also wanted to speak to his friend, to check on his condition and ensure their relationship didn't deteriorate further.
Before him stood a place radiating an unusual warmth for this cold world, filled with the clang of metal and screeching sounds. All of it emanated from a stone platform set in the middle of an open space in the city, divided into several sections focused on specific crafting tasks.
Nym approached one of these sections, and into his ears came the yelling of a middle-aged man, as if he were striking a giant—or perhaps a bull, who could say? He stood stunned at the sight before him: Lester's father striking him with a small hammer across his ribs and arms. Yet Nym heard no cracking bones or cries of pain—Lester simply stared at his father, tears in his eyes.
"You're weak! How can you not hold the anvil while I strike the sword?! How did I father such a pathetic son?" groaned Lester's father, completely unaware of Nym watching with teary eyes as well.
You're the reason, Nym thought, remembering how Lester used to beat him, slamming him into walls with monstrous strength.
Finally, Lester's father noticed Nym and glared with fury. "Who are you? What do you want—"
He didn't finish his sentence. Lester suddenly cried out, "Nym! Please save me—he's going to kill me one day!"
Upon hearing his friend's plea, Nym summoned a flying sword, sending it after Lester's father, shouting, "You bastard! Do you know how much I suffered because of you? You broke my rib!"
Lester's father shattered the flying sword with ease and stared at Nym like he was looking at a madman.
"You? You were beaten by my weakling of a son? How can people like you exist in this world—fragile and pitiful like invalids?"
Then hell descended on the forge. The chilling cold of the icy abyss burst forth, and all that could be heard were groans and sounds of breaking.
"Oww, my cheek! By the gods—what kind of monster lives here? Was its mother a bull or something?" cried out a craftsman in shock.
Nym groaned, holding his bruised side. Beside him, Lester whimpered in pain—his father had thrown an anvil at his face when he learned he was friends with Nym. Yet strangely, instead of his skull shattering, Lester's face had only swollen slightly.
"Don't blame Grandma," Lester mumbled, half-laughing, half-crying. "She had nothing to do with it… That freak came from Grandpa's side. I think he was a cursed beast or something…"
Nym couldn't tell if Lester was laughing or crying, but Lester's father glared at them both, his eyes gleaming with madness.
"You… you pretty cripple. I'll show you what real cold hell is like."
"Just kill me already," Nym muttered in exhaustion.
"Ah damn it, ow—owww!" Nym groaned as the 'cold hell' session with Lester's father ended.
Eventually, Lester came to understand what Nym had endured. He accepted the offered reward but insisted on not taking anything, knowing what Nym was going through.
"(Master, why didn't you let me reveal myself and kill that old man?)"
Well, Nym thought, you're kind of special. If you changed form and fought, you'd expose yourself. I don't want to draw too much attention—even though I'm already under some surveillance, light as it may be. This is the land of the Four Melded, or rather, of regional creatures. I can't risk exposing your abilities just yet.
And so, Ira remained hidden inside him, watching as Nym was beaten by Lester's father.
"Well, let's forget this. My fractures will heal thanks to my Ice Body, and I'll head back to the barracks to rest… then off to the western wall."