Kays Translations

Chapter 247: The Stars of the Presentation Party

Since then, many things had happened. Gerhardt laughed, Patrick cried, and Lutz slept on the stairs.

Like an arrow, the deadline had passed, and on this day, a presentation party was being held in the grand hall of the castle.

In the center, a long table with a stark white cloth laid out. On top of it were thirty swords lined up. The count and his entourage were each pulling out swords and examining their craftsmanship.

Among the thirty swords, twenty-seven had three ancient characters engraved on them, and three had four characters. While craftsmen were accustomed to three or four-character magic weapons, these were traditionally items passed down as heirlooms in noble and wealthy merchant families. It would be expected that swords with four characters would be strictly guarded in the possessions of dukes or even the royal family.

And yet, there were thirty such items lined up. It was magnificent, it was spectacular. Even those who were usually uninterested in arms and those who opposed making arms production a major industry were overwhelmed by the power of these renowned swords.

The entourage members were all praising and expressing their desire for the swords, showering Count Maximilian Zander, their master, with genuine compliments rather than mere flattery.

Maximilian was in his element. While they were praising the three and four-character swords, he was walking with a five-character treasured sword at his waist. The admiring gazes, tinged with a hint of jealousy, felt so satisfying. Just being observed made him feel like he was in ecstasy.

At this historic party that would change the history of the Zander family, the blacksmiths who were supposed to be the heroes were lined up against the wall, ignored.

They had been invited to a noble’s party, thinking it was an honor, but the three master craftsmen from the guild were wearing terribly bored expressions. Instead of being honored, they felt like they were just being paraded around.

Lutz, who never saw any value in noble gatherings from the beginning and even thought it was a waste of time, wore a face that looked like he was about to spit on the polished floor.

…At times like these, I wish Clau were here.

That’s what Lutz thought, feeling disgruntled.

If she were here, she could have been a conversation partner to help me relax. Or perhaps she could have joined the circle of minor nobles, promoted the swords, and introduced us to people. But she shouldn’t have had any connection to this sword-making project in the first place, so it wouldn’t have made sense for her to be invited. As a result, they ended up standing awkwardly with just the four of them.

I want to go home soon. That was the undisguised truth of the craftsmen’s hearts.

“Did Gerhardt-san enchant all those swords?”

Lutz said to wake himself up from the boredom rather than to distract himself. Whether Elder knew his intention or not, he was the first to engage.

“No, Gerhardt only did the three of Lutz-dono’s swords. There’s more than one enchantment specialist in the count’s domain, so the guild’s enchantment specialist did the rest.”

“Is that so? I was worried Gerhardt might work himself to death.”

Looking where Lutz’s gaze was directed, Gerhardt had been sticking close to the count all along. He also wore a terribly bored expression. Being treated like a statue was tough, but it seemed equally tough for him to stay by the count’s side, serving as his conversation partner or smiling and answering basic questions from minor nobles.

Gerhardt once sent a pleading look for help, but there was nothing Lutz and the others could do but mercilessly shake their heads.

“The purpose of making the presentation items this time was to improve the overall economy of the city and provide work for many craftsmen. So, except for the utterly useless, we distributed work evenly among them.”

One of the guild masters, Momos, answered. While his tone was clear, his body occasionally swayed from side to side. It seemed that he, too, was quite sleepy.

As for why they were all so sleepy, it was not only because the party was boring, but also because they had put their heart and soul into making the swords. Lutz had made three four-character swords in succession, and the guild masters had forged nine swords, still unfamiliar with them, within the deadline. The physical fatigue was one thing, but the pressure was considerable.

This was a request from the royal family through the Zander family and the Eldenburger Marquis family.

“I didn’t meet the deadline. Teehee.”

It wouldn’t end with just that.

If they messed up, the workshop would be dissolved. Even if the disciples were lucky enough to be hired by other workshops, their status as newcomers would worsen. At best, the guild masters would be exiled from the Zander domain, and at worst, they would end up on the executioner’s block. It seemed like a tasteless joke for a blacksmith to end his life with a dull axe. Oliver’s originally unpleasant face had become even worse due to fatigue and drowsiness. He had been the slowest to finish nine swords. By the time he reached the ninth one, the deadline had passed, and he had caused great inconvenience to the enchantment and decoration specialists, who ended up punching him. In modern terms, it was akin to a doujinshi artist and a printing company’s relationship.

Elder could have pleaded to be asked for only one sword since he had finished the delivery half a month before the deadline. However, that would have been the worst choice for the Oliver workshop.

Seeking help from colleagues on such a grand stage as a royal request would mark Oliver as incompetent and irresponsible.

In the end, he pushed himself beyond his limits, forging swords night after night. The relief from pressure when the final sword was completed was so intense that he urinated a large amount right there on the spot. He claims it wasn’t a slow trickle but a forceful gush that lasted about thirty seconds, and he stood frozen in place afterward, as he himself recounts.

The three colleagues laughed when they heard this, but they did not look down on him; they only felt empathy and respect. He had fulfilled his duty as a craftsman; any incidents like urinating or collapsing were all trivial matters and jokes. If anyone had the right to blame Oliver, it would be the enchantment specialist and the decorator in charge.

“How long will this farce continue…”

Oliver muttered with a voice lacking in coherence. Unfortunately, Elder shook his head.

“A noble’s party is something that should be drawn out all night.”

“Ugh…”

The exasperated voices simultaneously came from three places.

“Well, this time there’s no alcohol or food at the sword unveiling, right? I think it’ll be another hour or two at most.”

Was that a relief or a death sentence? The craftsmen couldn’t quite decide.

“I’m so hungry…”

“I just want to go home and gulp down some lukewarm soup. Once I eat, I want to fall asleep immediately, like mud…”

“That sounds nice… A bed is like a throne.”

The men, whose consciousness was hazy, ended up playing a strange game of pushing each other with their elbows while half asleep. They endured their sentence of boredom, the prison of their exhaustion, by shaking their bodies and nudging each other with their elbows.

The lower-ranking nobles watched the commoners swaying their bodies and nudging each other with elbows with puzzled eyes.

“What are they doing…?”

But in the end, no one approached them to inquire.

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