Arthur rewarded the coachman with a silver coin and instructed him to park the carriage in the castle's stables.
The temple's coachman was extremely grateful for this—he rarely encountered such generous nobles.
In his understanding, these nobles, though splendidly dressed, were always incredibly stingy.
They would rather spend large sums of money on flashy, impractical luxuries than spare a few copper coins for the poor.
Arthur did not return to his room immediately; instead, he turned and walked towards the blacksmith's shop inside the castle.
The blacksmith, Honi, was a craftsman employed by the Evil Wolf Family. Unlike ordinary blacksmiths outside, he specialized in forging equipment for the Evil Wolf Family's army and members.
Therefore, he was allowed to live in the castle and received a considerable commission each year.
Previously, Arthur's sword had broken during a duel with a noble from Esputa, so he had entrusted Honi to forge a new one.
For nobles in this world, a sword and a warhorse were symbols of status, indispensable.
Clanging sounds came from the blacksmith's shop. As Arthur approached, Honi was vigorously hammering a horseshoe, sweating profusely.
He did not stop his work, merely glanced up hastily, and said gruffly, "Wait a moment, Young Master."
Before he finished speaking, his hammer slammed heavily onto the red-hot iron, sending sparks flying.
After a few more strikes, Honi tossed the finished horseshoe aside.
Arthur noticed that a nearby wooden barrel was already filled with many finished horseshoes.
"The orcs have started raiding the border again," the blacksmith wiped his sweat, grabbed the ale from the table, and gulped it down. "The army's horseshoes are wearing out quickly."
Every early spring, the orcs from the Troll Mountains would descend to raid Anm's eastern border.
As one of the Earls of Anm's border, the Evil Wolf Family naturally had to organize an army to participate in the defense.
When war broke out, the demand for military supplies surged, and the blacksmiths became busy accordingly.
Before Arthur could speak, Honi continued on his own, "Your sword is ready, Young Master."
After speaking, he turned and yelled into the shop, then cursed a few low words.
A moment later, a scrawny young girl emerged, carrying a one-handed sword.
The child was only clad in a thin linen garment, barefoot, and covered in dirt.
The sword was clearly too heavy for her small frame; she was panting after only a few steps, and her pace gradually slowed.
The blacksmith completely disregarded the girl's struggle, rushing forward in a few strides, snatching the sword, and backhanding her with a heavy slap.
"You lazy little bastard!" He cursed, then kicked the girl a few times. "Your mother was a whore, and so are you!"
The girl, knocked to the ground, seemed to have long been accustomed to all of this. She curled up her body to minimize the damage.
"My sword," Arthur coldly interrupted the scene.
He knew that if he didn't speak up, the blacksmith would likely become absorbed in his own anger and forget his presence.
Honi let out a heavy breath, and when he turned around, his face was already wreathed in smiles, as if everything that had just happened had never occurred.
And the girl, curled on the ground, enduring the pain without a word, was like a dying stray dog by the roadside.
"Young Master Arthur, your sword."
Arthur shifted his gaze from the girl to the exquisite one-handed sword.
He first set the wooden stick in his hand aside, then took the sword and drew it. Honi's craftsmanship was indeed excellent.
This one-handed sword was of moderate length, light in weight, with a gleaming blade and a hilt that fit perfectly in the palm, clearly meticulously designed.
Arthur couldn't resist performing a sword dance, then nodded in satisfaction. The sword felt very comfortable to wield.
He re-sheathed the sword and paid the blacksmith.
The sword, along with its scabbard, cost him two gold coins, but it seemed well worth the price now.
However, since he could now cast divine spells, he probably wouldn't use this sword much.
Moreover, the wooden stick in his hand, which had been used by Saint John, was itself a magical weapon, possessing the first-circle spell "Healing Art," which could be cast once daily.
After Honi took the money, Arthur glanced at the girl still trembling on the ground and asked, "Who is this?"
Honi took another gulp of ale and complained, "My sister's daughter. My sister married into a border village, and this time the orcs massacred the village. She's the only one left from her family. So she came to me for refuge."
"Young Master, you don't know how tight my finances are already, and now there's another mouth to feed for free, sigh..."
Suddenly, Honi lowered his voice and said fawningly, "Young Master, if you like her, I'll sell her to you."
"This little girl is still a virgin, guaranteed to please you. If you get tired of her, you can sell her to a brothel; you won't lose out either way."
Arthur sneered.
Such things were commonplace in Anm and throughout the entire Toriel Continent.
In this backward and ignorant era, commoners were like weeds, and penniless vagrants were no different from livestock. The only difference between them and slaves was that they could not be openly bought and sold.
Arthur knew that even if he reported Honi, it would be useless.
He might be briefly imprisoned for human trafficking, but he would soon be released, and the girl would either be sold into a brothel or disappear completely from the world.
Arthur was not someone overflowing with sympathy, nor did he intend to save all the poor people in the world.
But as a modern Chinese person who had transmigrated, he still understood the principle of "If poor, maintain one's own integrity; if prosperous, benefit the world."
So he asked, "How much do you want?"
This made the blacksmith's eyes light up.
He pondered for a moment and said, "Thirty silver Talans."
Arthur raised an eyebrow and remained silent.
The blacksmith swallowed, lowering the price to twenty silver coins.
Arthur still didn't respond, a look of impatience on his face, adjusting his clothes as if to leave.
"Fifteen! Young Master, I can't go any lower! This girl is worth at least seventeen silver coins if sold to a brothel!" The blacksmith said with heartfelt anguish, "If my family wasn't truly struggling, why would I sell my own niece? Just consider it an act of charity!"
If he hadn't already known from intelligence that Honi's psychological bottom price was ten silver coins, Arthur would have almost been fooled by the old fox's "sob story."
"Seven," Arthur said unhurriedly.
"What?" Honi frowned, momentarily speechless.
Even knowing the other party's bottom price, Arthur had no intention of paying that much.
He stepped closer and said in a low voice, "Listen well, you disgusting fool!
"Seven silver coins, that's because you forged me this fine sword. Otherwise, I wouldn't give you a single coin, and I'd call the Sheriff to take a look.
"If you don't want to go to prison, take the money and hand that girl over to me."
In the past, Arthur would never have clashed with a blacksmith employed by the family—the other party would most likely complain to his father and distort the facts.
But now he was fearless: he was about to go to Qingfeng Valley anyway, so even if he killed Honi on the spot, there would be no consequences.
Honi stared at Arthur in shock, and after confirming that the other party was not joking, he could only comply.