Chapter 234: Introduction Letter

“Hey Lutz, good of you to come!”

Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger welcomed Lutz and his group with open arms. To a high noble like him, no matter how skilled a blacksmith might be, they were just tools, convenient tools at best. This treatment was exceptionally rare.

The gazes of Beowulf’s attendants towards Lutz varied. Some glared at him resentfully, some were surprised by his unusually frank demeanor compared to their usual lord, and some were calculating whether they should befriend him.

Beowulf laughed as he patted Lutz on the back.

“So, what brings you here today? Have you decided to become my adopted son? I can’t pass on the title of count, but I can prepare a large mansion for you and hire you as our resident blacksmith.”

His demeanor was that of a generous uncle who gives pocket money.

The relationship between Beowulf and Lutz was not merely that of a recipient of a sword. Beowulf had been involved with Lutz’s father, Rufus, over twenty years ago, and he had regretted not being able to prevent Rufus from being expelled from the Eldenburger family.

Rufus melted down his broken sword as material, and Lutz forged a new sword to reconcile with Beowulf. Since then, Beowulf had harbored goodwill towards Lutz beyond their social status.

“Unfortunately, it’s about something else.”

Lutz smiled wryly, knowing that he would have already conveyed this in a letter.

“I see. Well, if you ever get tired of the Count, feel free to come to me anytime.”

Beowulf invited Lutz and Claudia to his private quarters, surprising even his attendants. Claudia’s eyes widened in amazement at this gesture.

Only Lutz didn’t understand. He had only thought of Beowulf as a nice person, nothing more.

When nobles invite guests to their private quarters instead of the reception room, it’s a sign of deep trust in the guests. It not only shows that Beowulf welcomed Lutz and his companions but also serves as a message to his attendants that “these people are important guests to me.”

After the lord and his guests disappeared into the castle, the attendants began speculating about who they were. They knew they were blacksmiths from the count’s domain, but ordinary blacksmiths wouldn’t be treated so lavishly.

Speculation led to more speculation, and eventually, rumors spread to the point where they were speculating whether he was the king’s illegitimate child.

Lutz pondered the definition of “private quarters.” No matter how he looked at it, it was much larger than his own blacksmith shop.

Luxurious beds with canopies, windows adorned with expensive glass, and landscape paintings hanging on the walls that were likely the work of top-notch painters. Did one or two people sleep here every night? He couldn’t imagine it very well.

As Lutz nervously looked around the room, Beowulf tapped him on the chest with his fist.

“Have more confidence. People living this kind of life all want your swords.”

“Oh, um… yes…”

At that moment, Claudia was also surveying the room, but her gaze was somewhat colder.

…Continued exposure to this kind of lifestyle would surely lead to a sense of superiority, thinking that I’m special and commoners are worthless.

It was certain that Beowulf harbored goodwill towards Lutz, but how far should he get involved? He should always be mindful of the boundaries.

Seated, Beowulf spoke while gesturing towards Lutz and Claudia.

“Now, the matter at hand was to talk directly with the person who will receive the four-character sword. I’ll write an introduction letter and also inform His Majesty. But…”

Beowulf tilted his head slightly with a puzzled expression.

“Do you need to know more about the recipient to create one? I thought someone as skilled as you could easily make a four-character sword without much difficulty.”

To an amateur who had only seen the finished product, that might be the case. Lutz smiled wryly as he took a wooden sheath from a leather bag and placed it on the table.

When Beowulf drew the sword with a puzzled expression, his confusion only deepened.

“What’s this? Um, what’s this? It looks beautiful, and there don’t seem to be any obvious flaws, but I don’t feel any attraction to it at all. It’s like eating meat without seasoning.”

While it was a unique and harsh evaluation, Lutz didn’t try to argue. He was aware that it was mostly true.

“The result of forging without any thought after receiving a request. There was a lack of purpose and, embarrassingly, some arrogance. I carry it around as a reminder.”

Half of it was true, and half of it was a lie. It was Claudia’s advice not to show his beloved sword, “Kyoka Suigetsu,” to anyone.

Both the king and the Marquis believed that a sword with five ancient characters was the ultimate weapon. What would happen if they were shown a sword made with new technology? They wouldn’t feel too good about the value of their own swords decreasing.

Or perhaps it might be forcibly taken away. If a person of great power said they “wanted” it, there was no way a mere blacksmith like Lutz could refuse.

“This time, I want to return to basics and carefully craft the sword after hearing directly from the person who will handle it.”

“Being a craftsman is quite a difficult job.”

“I’m constantly afraid of when the fountain of talent will run dry.”

“As long as you think that way, you’ll be fine.”

Beowulf rang a handbell, and a butler immediately brought writing utensils. He wrote on parchment with practiced hands, letting out a sigh of resignation.

“It won’t be mine in the end, will it…”

Unfortunately, Lutz remained silent, unable to say anything. The sound of the pen scratching the parchment echoed emptily in the room.

“I also ordered ten three-character swords, but will Lutz be making those too?”

“No, those will be handled by another craftsman. I was told to focus on making four-character swords.”

“I see. Having three characters guarantees a certain level of quality, but I would have liked a sword made by Lutz nonetheless.”

Lutz had a somewhat itching, apologetic expression. Being singled out and told that someone wanted their work was the greatest honor for a craftsman, and he felt guilty for not being able to fulfill that.

“Are you dissatisfied with just stone eater?”

In response to Lutz’s question, Beowulf glanced at the sword hanging on the wall and then answered.

“Of course not, that sword is the best. I can’t say this to the spirits of my ancestors, but it’s much better than the heirloom swords passed down through generations.”

As if finding his own words amusing, Beowulf chuckled and his pen trembled. He muttered, “Really,” as he corrected a typo on the parchment with a knife before starting to write the introduction letter again.

“Having the best sword and having a collector’s soul tingling are two different things, understand?”

“I understand.”

“That’s that, then.”

“Yes, indeed.”

The two men nodded in agreement. Claudia, who couldn’t understand the romance of boys, looked at the men who seemed to connect in a strange way with eyes like she was observing rare animals.

“It’s done, take it with you.”

After drying the ink, rolling up the parchment, dripping wax, and sealing it with the stamp of the head of the house attached to the ring, it was complete. Four letters were laid out on the table. Beowulf casually picked up one of them.

“I’ll send this one to His Majesty myself. The other three have the same content, so you can give them when you meet the squad leaders.”

“Thank you very much, once again.”

Lutz and Claudia bowed deeply in gratitude, and Beowulf nodded with a smile as he watched them.

As he had the butler escort the two outside, Beowulf remained alone, twirling the quill between his fingers, squinting his eyes sharply and muttering.

“If you ask me, I’ll get priority in getting swords. If such a trend is established in the capital, it’ll be a profitable business.”

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