“Master Dan. It’s been a while.”
A voice rang behind the BloodBlade, and upon recognizing the tone, Blacksmith Dan fell on one knee and lowered his head.
“I greet His Lordship.”
“Arise. Have you gained the armor blueprint?”
Dan nodded.
“I have, Your Lordship. We can now make a full plate armor as intricate as the one donned by your infantry troops.”
“What would it take?”
Asher walked out of Alex’s back and leaned by the wooden beams supporting the forge. He and his BloodBlades wore cloaks, so they just looked strange, but since there were Desolate Slayers in the city square, the people weren’t frightened.
As of now, Nineveh did not welcome guests, adventurer guilds, or any other organizations like merchant guilds, so odd people were easily noticed.
“To make 10 complete silver armor sets with the weapons, I and Ark would have to work together with my apprentices for two weeks. Luckily, these armors are made from refined iron ore that has silver meridians, which makes it more durable than normal steel.”
“I see.”
Asher crossed his arms.
He casually ground his teeth and pursed his lips.
“Two weeks for just 10 armor sets is not worth it. However, my aim wasn’t for you to make armor sets for soldiers, as I have another way to do that. I wanted you to gain experience from it and grow. You and Ark are my chief blacksmiths and will spearhead the creation of our unique armor.”
Dan raised an eyebrow.
“I did learn a lot and will become a senior grade blacksmith in a year’s time, but what does, My Lord, mean by our own unique armor?”
Alex opened the sack he carried and dropped two, two-handed great axes on the table. The moment Dan touched the axes, his eyes shone.
His fingers trembled.
“Is this…”
“Dwarven ore. The same ore that gave dwarfs the edge in war. An ore that surpasses mythril ore and the Adamantine ore we humans pride ourselves in.”
Dan’s muscles bulged as he lifted one great axe and marveled at the creation.
“Not only that, but it wasn’t forged by human hands. How is this thing still existing?!”
“There are more. After the racial war, no human stepped foot into the desolatelands again, but there lie the ruins of those races, their technology, and their secrets. This is just the beginning.”
When Dan came out of his shock, he turned toward Asher.
“You want the entire Ashbourne troops to don armor made entirely out of dwarven ore? That’s impossible!”
“I have no such plans.” Asher chuckled and looked right into Dan’s eyes. “I want something stronger. Possibly an alloy made from dwarven ore and another similarly powerful ore.”
Dan gasped at his Lord’s lofty ambition.
“To produce such armor, you will need thousands upon thousands of senior grade blacksmiths, hundreds of master grade blacksmiths, and tens of saint grade blacksmiths.”
“It’s gradual, Dan, not instantly.”
Asher smiled.
“For now, I want armor. Use both axes to make armor for me and my war horse.”
“It will be difficult.” Dan replied.
“Is it possible?” Asher asked.
Dan frowned deeply.
“Maybe with Ark’s help. But it will take a while.”
“I see.”
Asher stopped leaning against the beam, pulled the cloak’s hood over his head properly, and walked away until he entered an ordinary-looking carriage and left.
After he left, Dan went into his room behind the inner forge, brought out a wooden box under his bed, and took a worn-out paper scroll. He opened it and looked at the blueprint of an armor neatly sketched on it with bright eyes.
A confident smile graced his face. “His Lordship will be amazed when I’m done with this.”
Meanwhile, Asher had his reasons for not forging a weapon. All his ancestors followed one path, and many of them succeeded as great warriors, even his great grandfather and father, but he was the only Ashbourne whose soul was from a different world.
Longswords were indeed perfect for him, but the kind of longsword that suited him wasn’t common. It was a longsword with the trait of a great sword. It wasn’t as big, but it had a good amount of weight to keep him balanced.
However, he had not seen such a weapon, and he would have to constantly be there if Dan would forge a sword for him.
Unfortunately, his presence was needed somewhere else.
…
Boom!
The doors of the courtroom were pushed open by Claude’s guards, and Nicolas, Claude’s chief knight, walked into the hall with a solemn expression.
“Silver Castle has fallen for two days now, and the army of the alliance is upon us.”
“It’s been a month and three weeks, and we have been waiting for an ally that hasn’t even sent back a letter to reassure us!” Claude’s regent, who was his wife, scowled while facing her husband.
“Our messenger came back a day before Silver Castle fell, and he said he met Baron Asher in person. He spoke greatly of the stronghold and their might, and since Baron Asher has given his word, he would surely arrive.”
Claude said softly.
His wife and some wealthy individuals in his domain that were in the courtroom trembled.
“We are about to be slaughtered by slaves!”
“Gather our men; we shall hold the walls. Try to recruit more mercenaries. Promise them 10 gold coins each.”
Claude ignored them and spoke to Nicolas.
“As you wish, your lordship.”
Before Nicolas could leave the door, a messenger rushed in.
“Your Lordship, the alliance army is at our horizon.”
The news almost made many wealthy friends of Claude faint.
He went to the walls and looked at the great army marching toward his city with different flags raised high. All this while Count William Tigris had not said a word despite sending letters to him.
Claude watched them pitch their tents, preparing to attack them.
“They would definitely attack by nightfall,” Nicolas said.
“Since it has come to this, give me a sword. Let me defend my city.”
Claude’s eyes flashed with ruthless gleam.