The moment Rajiv stepped through the massive gates of the Blackstone Tribe, he realized one thing.
This place...
Was unlike any tribe he had ever seen.
The rhythmic clang of metal echoed throughout the streets.
Blacksmiths stood before blazing furnaces, repeatedly striking glowing iron until sparks danced through the air like fireflies.
Nearby, groups of warriors sparred openly.
Axes collided.
Wooden swords cracked against shields.
Heavy hammers smashed into training dummies reinforced with beast hide.
Even children barely older than Rajiv practiced with determination, sweat dripping from their foreheads despite the cool morning breeze.
The entire tribe pulsed with strength.
Rajiv slowly looked around.
His blue eyes absorbed every detail.
The wide stone roads.
The towering buildings carved from black rock.
The enormous beast skulls decorating intersections.
Unlike the Varien Tribe, where libraries and meeting halls occupied the heart of the settlement...
Here...
The training grounds occupied the center.
Everything revolved around becoming stronger.
Vicky noticed Rajiv's expression and smiled.
"Well?"
Rajiv remained silent for a moment before answering honestly.
"...It's different."
Harold burst into laughter.
"Different?"
"This place is basically one giant training ground."
Bryan nodded.
"I don't think I've ever seen another tribe with this many blacksmiths."
Several nearby tribesmen overheard the conversation.
Instead of becoming offended...
They laughed proudly.
"Of course!"
One broad-shouldered warrior shouted while carrying an enormous hammer.
"A tribe without warriors isn't worthy of being called Blackstone!"
His companions roared with laughter.
Rajiv quietly watched them.
Even their laughter sounded louder than anywhere else he had visited.
The group continued deeper into the city.
Soon...
The marketplace appeared before them.
Rajiv unconsciously slowed his horse.
The market stretched across several streets.
Hundreds of merchants shouted loudly while displaying their goods.
Some sold medicinal herbs.
Others displayed colorful beast pelts.
Magical beast bones hung from wooden stalls.
Freshly forged weapons reflected the afternoon sunlight.
The smell of roasted meat mixed with countless unfamiliar spices drifted through the air.
People from many tribes walked through the crowded streets.
Compared to the quiet villages they had visited during the past month...
This place felt almost like a small city.
Rajiv climbed down from his horse.
His eyes immediately began wandering from stall to stall.
"...Uncle Vicky."
"Hm?"
"...Can we walk?"
Vicky chuckled.
"I thought you'd ask."
The four horses were handed over to a stable boy before the group entered the bustling marketplace.
Almost immediately...
Rajiv's curiosity took over.
He stopped before the first stall.
An elderly merchant smiled.
"Interested, young master?"
Rajiv pointed toward an enormous black horn hanging above the entrance.
"What animal did that come from?"
The merchant answered proudly.
"An Ironhorn Mountain Bull."
Rajiv nodded.
"What is it used for?"
"Weapons."
"Medicine."
"Decoration."
"Sometimes drinking horns."
Rajiv thought for a moment.
"...Why are the horns black?"
The merchant blinked.
"They naturally absorb earth-element energy."
"...How old must one become before the horns reach that size?"
"...Usually around twenty years."
"...Where do they live?"
"The northern mountains."
"...Can they be domesticated?"
"...Some tribes have tried."
"...Did they succeed?"
"...Not really."
Rajiv nodded again.
"I see."
Then...
He pointed toward another item.
"What about that root?"
The merchant looked over.
"Ah."
"That's Frost Root."
"...What does it do?"
"It cools the body."
"...Why?"
"...Because..."
The merchant hesitated.
Rajiv continued asking.
"...Does it lose effectiveness after drying?"
"...Can ordinary people consume it?"
"...Which magical beasts eat it?"
"...Can it grow outside snowy regions?"
Five minutes passed.
The merchant answered every question.
Ten minutes passed.
Sweat slowly appeared on his forehead.
Fifteen minutes later...
The poor merchant leaned against his stall.
He looked utterly exhausted.
"...Young Master..."
"...Are there..."
"...any more questions?"
Rajiv looked thoughtfully across the stall.
"...Actually—"
"No!"
The merchant raised both hands.
"I surrender!"
Nearby customers burst into laughter.
Vicky walked over while trying not to smile.
"My apologies."
"He's been reading books almost every day for the past three years."
The merchant stared at Rajiv.
Then sighed dramatically.
"...Now everything makes sense."
Harold laughed loudly.
"That wasn't even half the questions he usually asks."
The merchant's face turned pale.
"...Half?"
Bryan nodded seriously.
"On a good day."
The merchant silently thanked the heavens that Rajiv had decided to stop.
High above the marketplace...
Inside a spacious stone building overlooking the square...
An elderly man stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
His broad shoulders remained straight despite his age.
Countless scars covered his powerful arms.
His sharp eyes quietly observed the crowd below.
Beside him stood a boy around Rajiv's age.
He wore simple training clothes and carried a wooden practice sword across his back.
This was Darius.
The grandson of the Blackstone Tribe's chief.
Darius followed his grandfather's gaze.
"What are you looking at?"
The old chief pointed toward the marketplace.
"The child."
Darius frowned.
"The one asking questions?"
"Yes."
"He looks normal."
The old chief smiled faintly.
"Interesting people usually do."
Darius looked again.
All he saw...
Was a quiet boy asking merchants endless questions.
He scratched his head.
"I don't understand."
"You don't need to."
The old chief continued watching.
"Just observe."
"People reveal far more..."
"...when they believe no one is paying attention."
Back in the marketplace...
Rajiv continued exploring.
Unlike most children his age...
He paid almost no attention to toys.
Instead...
He carefully examined herbs.
Ore.
Beast materials.
Maps.
Ancient tools.
Anything unfamiliar immediately caught his interest.
He stopped before a blacksmith's workshop.
The rhythmic sound of hammer striking metal echoed throughout the street.
Rajiv watched silently.
The blacksmith heated the iron.
Folded it.
Hammered it again.
Then repeated the process.
Again.
And again.
"...Why does he keep folding it?"
Rajiv asked.
Vicky smiled.
"What do you think?"
Rajiv observed for another minute.
"...To remove impurities?"
The blacksmith looked over in surprise.
He grinned.
"Smart kid."
"The cleaner the metal..."
"...the stronger the weapon."
Rajiv nodded thoughtfully.
Another lesson.
Reality...
Contained countless details books often summarized in only a few sentences.
And Rajiv wanted to understand all of them.
Not just read about them.
A short distance away...
Lord Blackstone continued watching.
The more he observed the boy...
The more curious he became.
The child wasn't behaving like someone trying to impress others.
He wasn't pretending to know everything.
Instead...
He admitted what he didn't understand.
Then patiently asked questions until he learned.
That...
Was rare.
Very rare.
The old chief smiled faintly.
"...Interesting."
End of Part I
The moment Rajiv stepped through the massive gates of the Blackstone Tribe, he realized one thing.
This place...
Was unlike any tribe he had ever seen.
The rhythmic clang of metal echoed throughout the streets.
Blacksmiths stood before blazing furnaces, repeatedly striking glowing iron until sparks danced through the air like fireflies.
Nearby, groups of warriors sparred openly.
Axes collided.
Wooden swords cracked against shields.
Heavy hammers smashed into training dummies reinforced with beast hide.
Even children barely older than Rajiv practiced with determination, sweat dripping from their foreheads despite the cool morning breeze.
The entire tribe pulsed with strength.
Rajiv slowly looked around.
His blue eyes absorbed every detail.
The wide stone roads.
The towering buildings carved from black rock.
The enormous beast skulls decorating intersections.
Unlike the Varien Tribe, where libraries and meeting halls occupied the heart of the settlement...
Here...
The training grounds occupied the center.
Everything revolved around becoming stronger.
Vicky noticed Rajiv's expression and smiled.
"Well?"
Rajiv remained silent for a moment before answering honestly.
"...It's different."
Harold burst into laughter.
"Different?"
"This place is basically one giant training ground."
Bryan nodded.
"I don't think I've ever seen another tribe with this many blacksmiths."
Several nearby tribesmen overheard the conversation.
Instead of becoming offended...
They laughed proudly.
"Of course!"
One broad-shouldered warrior shouted while carrying an enormous hammer.
"A tribe without warriors isn't worthy of being called Blackstone!"
His companions roared with laughter.
Rajiv quietly watched them.
Even their laughter sounded louder than anywhere else he had visited.
The group continued deeper into the city.
Soon...
The marketplace appeared before them.
Rajiv unconsciously slowed his horse.
The market stretched across several streets.
Hundreds of merchants shouted loudly while displaying their goods.
Some sold medicinal herbs.
Others displayed colorful beast pelts.
Magical beast bones hung from wooden stalls.
Freshly forged weapons reflected the afternoon sunlight.
The smell of roasted meat mixed with countless unfamiliar spices drifted through the air.
People from many tribes walked through the crowded streets.
Compared to the quiet villages they had visited during the past month...
This place felt almost like a small city.
Rajiv climbed down from his horse.
His eyes immediately began wandering from stall to stall.
"...Uncle Vicky."
"Hm?"
"...Can we walk?"
Vicky chuckled.
"I thought you'd ask."
The four horses were handed over to a stable boy before the group entered the bustling marketplace.
Almost immediately...
Rajiv's curiosity took over.
He stopped before the first stall.
An elderly merchant smiled.
"Interested, young master?"
Rajiv pointed toward an enormous black horn hanging above the entrance.
"What animal did that come from?"
The merchant answered proudly.
"An Ironhorn Mountain Bull."
Rajiv nodded.
"What is it used for?"
"Weapons."
"Medicine."
"Decoration."
"Sometimes drinking horns."
Rajiv thought for a moment.
"...Why are the horns black?"
The merchant blinked.
"They naturally absorb earth-element energy."
"...How old must one become before the horns reach that size?"
"...Usually around twenty years."
"...Where do they live?"
"The northern mountains."
"...Can they be domesticated?"
"...Some tribes have tried."
"...Did they succeed?"
"...Not really."
Rajiv nodded again.
"I see."
Then...
He pointed toward another item.
"What about that root?"
The merchant looked over.
"Ah."
"That's Frost Root."
"...What does it do?"
"It cools the body."
"...Why?"
"...Because..."
The merchant hesitated.
Rajiv continued asking.
"...Does it lose effectiveness after drying?"
"...Can ordinary people consume it?"
"...Which magical beasts eat it?"
"...Can it grow outside snowy regions?"
Five minutes passed.
The merchant answered every question.
Ten minutes passed.
Sweat slowly appeared on his forehead.
Fifteen minutes later...
The poor merchant leaned against his stall.
He looked utterly exhausted.
"...Young Master..."
"...Are there..."
"...any more questions?"
Rajiv looked thoughtfully across the stall.
"...Actually—"
"No!"
The merchant raised both hands.
"I surrender!"
Nearby customers burst into laughter.
Vicky walked over while trying not to smile.
"My apologies."
"He's been reading books almost every day for the past three years."
The merchant stared at Rajiv.
Then sighed dramatically.
"...Now everything makes sense."
Harold laughed loudly.
"That wasn't even half the questions he usually asks."
The merchant's face turned pale.
"...Half?"
Bryan nodded seriously.
"On a good day."
The merchant silently thanked the heavens that Rajiv had decided to stop.
High above the marketplace...
Inside a spacious stone building overlooking the square...
An elderly man stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
His broad shoulders remained straight despite his age.
Countless scars covered his powerful arms.
His sharp eyes quietly observed the crowd below.
Beside him stood a boy around Rajiv's age.
He wore simple training clothes and carried a wooden practice sword across his back.
This was Darius.
The grandson of the Blackstone Tribe's chief.
Darius followed his grandfather's gaze.
"What are you looking at?"
The old chief pointed toward the marketplace.
"The child."
Darius frowned.
"The one asking questions?"
"Yes."
"He looks normal."
The old chief smiled faintly.
"Interesting people usually do."
Darius looked again.
All he saw...
Was a quiet boy asking merchants endless questions.
He scratched his head.
"I don't understand."
"You don't need to."
The old chief continued watching.
"Just observe."
"People reveal far more..."
"...when they believe no one is paying attention."
Back in the marketplace...
Rajiv continued exploring.
Unlike most children his age...
He paid almost no attention to toys.
Instead...
He carefully examined herbs.
Ore.
Beast materials.
Maps.
Ancient tools.
Anything unfamiliar immediately caught his interest.
He stopped before a blacksmith's workshop.
The rhythmic sound of hammer striking metal echoed throughout the street.
Rajiv watched silently.
The blacksmith heated the iron.
Folded it.
Hammered it again.
Then repeated the process.
Again.
And again.
"...Why does he keep folding it?"
Rajiv asked.
Vicky smiled.
"What do you think?"
Rajiv observed for another minute.
"...To remove impurities?"
The blacksmith looked over in surprise.
He grinned.
"Smart kid."
"The cleaner the metal..."
"...the stronger the weapon."
Rajiv nodded thoughtfully.
Another lesson.
Reality...
Contained countless details books often summarized in only a few sentences.
And Rajiv wanted to understand all of them.
Not just read about them.
A short distance away...
Lord Blackstone continued watching.
The more he observed the boy...
The more curious he became.
The child wasn't behaving like someone trying to impress others.
He wasn't pretending to know everything.
Instead...
He admitted what he didn't understand.
Then patiently asked questions until he learned.
That...
Was rare.
Very rare.
The old chief smiled faintly.
"...Interesting."