Chapter 230: Hangout for Guys

“It seems the blacksmiths in the royal capital are also attempting to create swords, but it’s not going well. Even if they manage to replicate the shape, they lack the beauty that seeps from within, so it’s immediately noticeable.”

“We’re in a similar situation here. I’ve long given up, so I haven’t resorted to kicking the craftsmen’s rear ends.”

Radwald and Beowulf exchanged glances and smiled wryly. Both of them possessed renowned swords and shared a sense of camaraderie despite being lord and vassal. Beowulf’s manner of speaking had become somewhat relaxed.

“In the end, is it true that they can only be made in Count Tsander’s domain? Can’t we persuade the count to disclose the technique?”

“Asking for the technique is akin to asking for the land for free. It would be overly arrogant.”

“We’ve built a reputation with our fair lord; we don’t want to ruin it here.”

Radwald said with self-deprecation. He had just casually killed a death row prisoner. There was a precariousness to his mentality that allowed for such thoughts as “it’s okay to kill scum like this.” What’s noble about a man who can’t stop even though he knows it’s wrong?

“The count has quite the thick skin. If you ask him for the technique, he’ll demand around a hundred thousand gold coins.”

“I can’t afford that. If we want swords, it might be safer to order from the count. It’s irritating to play into his plans, but…”

“If you think about it, we got national treasure-class swords for free. Let’s consider it giving him some flowers.”

“That’s true.”

Radwald himself knew well the splendor of the named sword “Rose Garden.” He had no choice but to accept it.

“You were quite close with the Count Tsander.”

“To some extent, I was a liaison for negotiations.”

“Order about twenty swords from the count. Pay him more than the regular amount, but it’s not a top priority.”

“Understood.”

Thinking about my order, it’s about thirty swords in total, Beowulf thought as he bowed.

With that, Radwald stood up as if to conclude the conversation.

“Your Majesty, what are your plans?”

“I’m going to bed a woman. I can’t stop getting excited after killing a prisoner.”

Radwald grinned and spoke bluntly. This was also a conversation that was only possible because of the familiarity that had developed.

“Don’t start succession disputes now.”

“Hmm? …Ah, right.”

Radwald left the throne room with his guards and, after walking for a while, chuckled as if he had just realized something. The words from earlier were Beowulf’s flattery. It was his way of saying, “You still have the energy to make children.”

“It was fun, incredibly fun. Radwald caressed the sheath of the sword at his waist. Since obtaining this famous sword, he gained confidence as a king and found someone he could call a friend. If he earnestly tackled his duties instead of just going through the motions, the way others saw him would change.

His life, which had been grey for so long, now felt like it had finally gained some color recently.

…Maybe he should really consider having a child.

Radwald’s steps towards the chamber of his favored concubine, Okini, were light. He was in high spirits, though there was also a sense of embarrassment in his enjoyment.

—

In Lutz’s blacksmith workshop, the men were bustling about.

“Master, I’m done fetching water!”

“Oh, good… thank you…”

“Master, I’ll do the charcoal cutting!”

“Please do…”

“Master, is it okay if I sharpen the axes like this?”

“Yeah, that’s fine…”

Lutz wasn’t doing anything in particular, but he had an extremely tired expression on his face. It was mental fatigue. The problem was the group of ruffian blacksmiths who called him “Master.”

Men who held the position of Master in the Guild of Blacksmiths in the fortress city. Oliver and his rival Momos. And the most troublesome of them all, the old man called the elder, who was in charge of the guild.

To Lutz, they were all seniors, great seniors even. And yet, here they were, happily doing grunt work under the guise of calling him Master. Lutz was confused about how to approach them.

Lutz was employed by the count and was not a member of the guild. He wasn’t the elder’s disciple, nor did he receive a salary. However, he still had a sense of awe and respect for the craftsmen who had been smithing for over fifty years.

“Um, everyone?”

“Yes, Master!”

“…Are you guys having fun?”

When Lutz raised his eyebrows and said this, the mischievous blacksmiths looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“Come on, don’t tease the young ones too much.”

“Well, you know, we’re in a position where we’re seeking wisdom from Lutz-dono.”

With a grin, Oliver said. It seemed like he was enjoying himself.

“Weren’t you pleased to be flattered by the older Masters?”

Momos said with a serious expression.

“I suppose there might have been a bit of that with slightly older guys, but definitely not in front of you three…”

Glancing at the elder, Lutz sent him a look, and the wrinkled old man laughed heartily.

“Oh no, age doesn’t matter in a mentor-disciple relationship. Please feel free to call me Cho-san.”

…Can this old man really do that?

“Why are there so many weirdos among craftsmen?” Lutz sighed and shook his head as if it were someone else’s problem.

In the fortress city of the Count’s domain, there were fifteen blacksmith workshops apart from Lutz’s. Lutz had taught the sword-making technique to fifteen masters, but about half of them, seven, had given up on the intricate process. Five workshops were continuing half-heartedly.

The remaining three workshops, with the three masters present here, were particularly enthusiastic and were able to make swords of the quality that could carve three ancient characters.

And today, they had come earnestly and shamelessly pushing in once again. When they were first taught the technique for free, Lutz had thought he couldn’t ask for more, but recently, without any hesitation, Lutz’s workshop had become a gathering place for these guys.

“Since everyone is prepared, shall we start making swords?”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting!”

Oliver cheered, and Momos slapped him on the back of his head. This was also a sight that had become quite familiar.

“Right, since we’re here, why don’t we try striking together with someone?”

“Striking together” refers to the partner when forging steel together. It also became the origin of the act of showing agreement in conversation by striking together with a hammer according to the master’s signal.

It was a very welcome suggestion for the masters who came to learn the sword-making technique.

“Yes, me! I’ll do it!”

“Step aside, Oliver. Can’t you give way to your elders here?”

“But didn’t you say age doesn’t matter in a mentor-disciple relationship?”

Men who had gained status and honor began to make noise like children. Lutz watched this scene with a smile.

…That’s how craftsmen should be. It might be rude to put it this way, but I really like them.

There was a strong knock on the door. Lutz, leaving the brats behind, went to greet the visitor, who was the Count’s advisor and his personal enchanter, Gerhardt.

He peered into the workshop and frowned.

“Hey, what’s this, a bargain sale for old men? Lutz, when did you start working as an undertaker?”

The elder turned around and said.

“You’re old too. Don’t act like it doesn’t concern you.”

“You should be younger than me… Elder, how old are you now?”

“I’ve forgotten my age. I plan to live for another thirty years, at least.”

“What a ridiculous old man.”

Gerhardt sighed in exasperation, while Oliver and Momos agreed.

Since the conversation wasn’t progressing, Lutz asked on behalf of everyone.

“So, Gerhardt-san, what brings you here today? Would you like to observe sword-making if you don’t mind?”

“Well, that’s fine, but…”

Gerhardt took out a rolled parchment from his pocket and shook it left and right. The seal was broken; it seemed to be a letter from an important person, and Lutz had a bad feeling about it.

“A fast horse has come from the capital. Rejoice, we’ve received an order for thirty swords. It’s a personal request from His Majesty the King, and he won’t take no for an answer.”

Gerhardt said somewhat indifferently. The three blacksmiths stood frozen with their mouths open.

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