Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing

Leon Was Certain.

If not, his efficient and cold-hearted grandfather, Patrick Asteria, wouldn’t have made such a request.

‘You always want to give something better to the person you love.’

And look at that strangely embarrassed demeanor.

‘Yeah. Grandfather must have been lonely too.’

It made perfect sense. His child had passed away early, and his grandchildren weren’t exactly affectionate.

And it wasn’t like his grandmother was still alive.

Regardless, this was an opportunity.

A gift for a loved one.

‘I can use this to win major favor.’

Without fully reading Patrick’s expression, Leon clenched his fist naturally and spoke.

“Give me just two weeks. I’ll make a higher-grade potion by then.”

“Two weeks?”

Patrick asked in surprise.

His tone clearly meant: You think that’s possible?

“…I’ll do it in a week!”

Mistakenly reading the reaction, Leon made up his mind and left the room.

Click.

Patrick reached out toward the now-closed door, but Leon was already gone.

“Hah… He didn’t even ask why…”

He had no idea how Leon had misunderstood, but at least it saved him from having to explain things.

Unless…

“…Wait, no! That’s not it, you idiot!”

Realizing the misunderstanding too late, Patrick shouted at the closed door.

* * *

Leon organized his thoughts as he stepped out of the room.

“How do I make a three-star potion?”

The first method was to mindlessly grind and level up, hoping that a high-quality potion would eventually come out.

But there wasn’t enough time for that.

The second method was to purchase high-quality herbs and craft the potion.

It was less physically demanding than the first method, and the chances of producing a good potion were higher.

However, if he were going to spend money on expensive herbs, he might as well just buy potions made by other alchemists.

That option was out as well.

So that left only one choice…

“The only way is the proper method.”

The proper method.

That meant gathering herbs and making the potion entirely on his own.

“I have my limits with bare hands.”

No matter how delicately he used his fingers, constantly rubbing against dirt and sand dulled his sense of touch, making it difficult to pick the best herbs.

Besides, for herbs that needed to be harvested by the stem without pulling the roots, simply yanking them out by force would cause damage.

In short, he needed tools.

And not just any tools—good ones.

Without hesitation, Leon headed straight to the largest blacksmith shop in the territory.

Clang! Clang!

Ssshh—!

The rhythmic sound of hammering iron echoed through the forge, and the hot metal sizzled as it cooled in oil, sending up a vaporous mist.

The intense heat hit him at once, prompting Leon to instinctively raise an arm.

“Not bad.”

Just as he murmured in admiration, a worker who had been tossing logs into the furnace approached him.

“Welcome. What are you looking for?”

Seeing that Leon was clearly not an ordinary person, the worker spoke to him with polite respect, despite his young age.

“Are you in charge here?”

“I’m not the head, but I can sell you whatever you need. A standard sword? Or perhaps a lightweight rapier?”

He must have assumed that Leon was a nobleman’s son who had just started learning swordsmanship.

“I’m looking for a hoe and a sickle.”

“…….”

The worker’s expression twisted in a peculiar way. He looked confused.

“A hoe and a sickle… why…? Ahem, never mind. Please, follow me.”

It seemed his instincts told him not to dig too deep. Without further questions, the worker led Leon to one side of the forge, where various hoes and sickles were displayed.

[Standard Hoe]

[Rough Hoe]

[Ordinary Hoe]

“Hm?”

The quality of the hoes was underwhelming.

‘This won’t do.’

To gather high-quality herbs, he needed equally high-quality tools.

Of course, it wasn’t surprising. A master blacksmith wouldn’t waste time crafting farming tools. Skilled blacksmiths were already overwhelmed with commissions for weapons and armor.

Even if he revealed that he was the eldest son of the Asteria family, it wasn’t as if a top-tier hoe would magically appear overnight.

So, Leon changed his approach.

“Is it possible to get hands-on experience working in the forge?”

“What? That’s ridiculous—”

“I’ll pay generously.”

Leon pulled a pouch of money from his coat and handed it to the worker.

“I can give even more if necessary.”

“…….”

The worker peeked inside the pouch—and his jaw dropped.

But instead of running off somewhere…

“You must not know how things work yet, young master!”

The worker scooped out a handful of gold coins and shoved the pouch back into Leon’s hands.

“This is more than enough! Keep the rest! No matter how safe a place seems, pickpockets exist everywhere. Got it?”

“Uh…”

For once, Leon was caught off guard.

‘I gave extra on purpose, though…’

He had expected the worker to take a portion and use the rest to show sincerity to the blacksmith.

But instead…

“Tsk, paying money just to try it out… Hold on a sec.”

The worker left Leon standing there and walked off, raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the hammering.

“Hey, boss! Get over here for a second!”

“I’m busy as hell! What do you want?!”

“Just come! We’ve got a big shot here!”

“Then scam him and sell him everything, idiot! I’m already losing my mind with the damn fire!”

“No, it’s not like that!”

“…….”

Leon could hear everything.

Then why had he been told to wait here?

Still, he stayed put.

After some back-and-forth shouting, a rather small man finally emerged from the depths of the forge.

His long braided beard and rust-stained fingernails made it obvious—he was the most seasoned blacksmith here.

‘A dwarf.’

Dwarves.

They were said to be impervious to fire, possessed incredible physical strength, and, despite their raw power, were the most meticulous craftsmen in existence. Their work was considered the finest in the world.

Even the alchemy tools Leon used likely had traces of a dwarf’s craftsmanship.

It was said that only a few of their descendants remained, and yet, one stood before him.

The dwarf dusted off his hands and looked up at Leon with a raised chin.

“So, you want to make a hoe yourself? You, a noble-looking fellow?”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

He couldn’t exactly say that there was nothing good enough to buy, so Leon answered nonchalantly.

“I was just planning to purchase one at first. But after seeing this forge, my curiosity was piqued. Creating something by hammering iron seemed incredible.”

“Hmm…”

“So, I wanted to try it for myself.”

“Hmmmm…”

“For the record, my name is Leon Asteria.”

“Aha.”

That explained everything.

The dwarf had been skeptical about Leon’s reasoning—until he heard his name. Then, he suddenly looked like he understood.

“Hey, get this guy what he needs!”

“Come on, boss! Could you stop calling people ‘this guy’ so casually?!”

Despite his protests, the worker hurried to prepare the workstation.

An anvil, iron, tongs, and a hammer.

It was the same setup as any other blacksmith.

“You can use the fire over there! And that guy took some of your money, so order him around as much as you like while you work!”

“Thanks. By the way, your name?”

Whoosh.

The dwarf had already turned away and gone back to his work.

“……His name is Millionth Skinned Mudu. Just call him Master Mudu.”

Now aware of Leon’s identity, the worker spoke a bit more respectfully.

“I see. And you?”

“Just call me Hand.”

Hand scratched the back of his neck, seeming a little embarrassed about earlier.

“Don’t worry about it. More importantly, I’d like to take a look around the forge.”

“Ah, right this way. It’s a bit hot.”

Hand led him around, explaining each area.

Blacksmiths forging metal. Others shaping raw iron into useful forms. Some sharpening rough edges, and finally, craftsmen attaching handles.

Everyone was deeply focused on their tasks, creating a steady flow of weapons and tools.

Leon removed his coat, draping it over his arm as he observed.

Everything was systematic.

‘Something’s off.’

Even if a master hadn’t crafted them, the hoes shouldn’t have been of such poor quality.

“Lastly, placing the metal here and heating it will—”

“Ah.”

Now he understood.

Leon turned toward the forge’s roaring flames.

The heat was intense enough to melt metal, yet something felt… off.

‘Come to think of it, Mudu did complain about the fire.’

Looking closer…

A flicker.

Amidst the flames, something shimmered differently.

[A Lesser Fire Spirit is watching you.]

—It seems much weaker than other spirits. Could it be displeased about something?

[☞ Click here to check the spirit’s grievances.]

“Is the fire always this weak?”

“It’s not bad, but… yeah, the heat’s a bit lower than before. It’s not a big problem yet, but Master Mudu is concerned. But how did you notice?”

“The fire told me.”

“……Oh.”

Hand reacted a beat late.

It seemed Leon had officially been labeled a “weirdo.”

“So, what does the fire want us to do?”

“Come on. It’s not like fire can talk.”

“…….”

“Now, show me how to make a hoe.”

“Uh… sure. Follow me.”

Just before Hand, with a trembling expression as if he had realized something, was about to guide Leon back to his personal anvil—

“Hold it right there!”

The Millionth Skinned Mudu, who had disappeared earlier, suddenly blocked their path.

His expression was completely different from before.

“Hand. Go take care of your business. I need a word with this crazy brat.”

“What? You just told me to handle it…”

“Are you leaving or not, you bastard?!”

“Ugh, your temper… Fine! Call me when you need me!”

Though grumbling, Hand stepped aside without much resistance, as if he was used to this kind of situation.

Or maybe, after witnessing Leon’s eccentric nature, he had no desire to get more involved.

“…Tsk. Come with me.”

Leon followed Mudu.

Mudu led him through the back door of the forge, putting some distance between them and the others. Once they reached a secluded spot, he finally spoke.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“You know what it is?”

“Probably.”

A cryptic exchange of words passed between the two oddballs.

They were talking about the fire spirit—acknowledging that they had both seen it and that Leon might understand what the issue was.

“Can you fix it?”

“What if I do?”

“Tsk…”

Mudu scratched his head roughly with his rust-stained nails. Each time he did, iron dust flaked off and fell to the ground, but Leon paid no mind.

“You said you wanted to make one yourself, right? I’ll teach you personally.”

“And?”

“…I’ll prioritize your orders above all else.”

That was quite a tempting offer.

The Asteria Territory’s forge was famous enough to receive commissions from other regions as well.

Satisfied, Leon extended his hand.

“Let’s get started tonight.”