Lord of the Time: I Can Reincarnate Infinitely

Chapter 512 512: A Layman

Under the sprawling shade of an ancient oak tree, Caleb had established his makeshift blacksmith stall. Constructed from materials fused together with his unique abilities, the stall was both sturdy and unassuming. Caleb reclined leisurely against a mound of gleaming silver coins, his expression one of contented mischief.

As he savored the warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves, the peace was suddenly broken by the arrival of Leon's team. The group approached with cautious curiosity, their eyes scanning the simple setup with a mix of skepticism and hope.

"Are you George, the blacksmith?" Leon asked, trying to mask his doubt with a polite tone.

Caleb, maintaining his guise as an elderly craftsman, nodded slowly, giving them a warm, welcoming smile. "That would be me, young adventurers. What brings you to my humble corner of the world?"

When informed of Caleb's prices, the team exchanged uneasy glances. Marla, always the more outspoken, couldn't hold back her concern. "These prices seem a bit steep for an unknown smith," she remarked, her voice tinged with skepticism.

Caleb sat up straight, adopting a wise tone, "Ah, but the quality of my work can rival the divine. You won't find craftsmanship like mine just anywhere."

Thomas, ever the pragmatist, frowned deeply. "That's a bold claim. How can we trust that your work is as good as you say?"

With a sage nod, Caleb responded, "Trust is earned, of course. You won't know unless you try. Do you have any materials on you? Perhaps those old pieces of gear you're wearing?" His voice carried a hint of disdain as he eyed their worn equipment.

Taken aback by his straightforwardness, yet intrigued by the possibility of turning their battered gear into something superior, the group hesitated. After a brief discussion, they agreed to take a chance.

"Fine," Leon said, determination setting in. "Let's see what you can do with these." He gestured to their equipment, now looking even more inadequate in the presence of this peculiar old man.

Caleb's eyes twinkled with amusement as he accepted their damaged weapons and armor. "Excellent choice. I'll show you that true artistry can transform even the most beaten of metals into treasures."

As the adventurers handed over their items, Caleb's fingers lightly brushed the materials, his fusion skills subtly assessing their composition. He was already planning how to impress these young warriors with his 'blacksmithing' prowess.

...

As the last echoes of footsteps faded away, Caleb glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear. With a flick of his wrist, he drew a curtain around his makeshift workshop, shrouding his activities in secrecy. He then turned his attention to the pile of damaged equipment sprawled across his workbench.

The assortment was quite pitiful up close: a sword with a chipped blade, a dagger dulled by misuse, a shield dented on every inch of its surface, armor that had seen better days, boots with soles worn thin, and a bow with fraying strings. He prodded each piece, noting the extent of wear with a series of noncommittal grunts.

"Guess these will have to do," Caleb muttered to himself, his fingers tracing over the contours of the flaming ores. These vibrant, glowing stones seemed to hum with an inner fire.

He contemplated the best matches for a moment, his gaze flickering from one item to the next. The logic of a skilled blacksmith might have dictated careful consideration of each material's properties and their compatibility with the gear. But Caleb, he was a layman. He doesn't really know anything about Blacksmithing...

"Ah, to hell with it. Let's make this interesting," he chuckled under his breath, picking up the crystallized shin. The shard sparkled enticingly, a spectrum of colors dancing within its icy structure.

With a shrug, he laid the shard against the sword's blade. As his fingers brushed the materials together, they dissolved into streams of golden light. The glow enveloped the blade, seeping into every crack and crevice, filling the imperfections with renewed strength.

Next, he turned to the Maniola ancient oakm This he matched with the shield, hoping the wood's legendary resilience would impart some of its storied strength to the battered metal.

One by one, he continued the process, not bothering to keep track of his choices. The fangs of the stormwolf found their way to the boots. The talon of the black eagle was paired with the bow.

As each fusion completed, Caleb stepped back, watching the transformations with bored eyes.

"If this works, they'll be the best-dressed bronze adventurers out there," he mused, a grin spreading across his face. "If not, well, it'll be a good story for them, won't it?"

His laughter echoed softly in the enclosed space, mingling with the golden light as the last of the equipment absorbed its new powers.