The Nation of Artisans (2)
The guilds in this other world were essentially merchant cartels. Among them, the blacksmith guild held the largest share and the greatest influence. In a world dangerous enough for monsters to appear even inside human territories, it was inevitable that forges would grow to resemble military contractors. Insanely powerful weapons were every bit as vital here as superhumans. A sword imbued with magic carried the same price tag and prestige as an American aircraft carrier.
Of course, that doesn’t mean every blacksmith is rich. Clara had real skill, yet she was still dirt poor. It was a promising trade with low barriers to entry, but the income gap was brutal—like singers or actors. If I tried lecturing some starving blacksmith about the invisible hand theory, he’d probably tell me to shut the fuck up and cave my skull in with a hammer.
Looking at it that way, the port city of Hremar in Nidavellir seemed to be full of blacksmiths who were both clever and shrewd businessmen. After all, their guild building had twenty floors.
“Fuck, that’s huge as shit.”
I let out a pure, innocent exclamation. High-rise buildings like this were rare in this world. Why the hell would people with this much flat land bother stacking something so tall? The poor building next door, completely swallowed by its shadow, was the real victim. Heh. Sunlight rights can suck it. Shade attack!
After a moment of admiration I entered the guild with my party. Standing there gawking like a country bumpkin and getting laughed at would be too embarrassing.
I held out my adventurer identification.
“I’m here to commission a custom leather armor.”
Being Silver Class gave us enough status to pass the entrance check without hassle. A master’s badge would probably earn even better treatment, but I decided to save the archaeologist brooch that hid my identity for when I really needed it. You could never be too careful in a foreign country.
But why is a human working as the receptionist?
I quickly figured out the reason. It was a trade city, so plenty of different races must visit. Pure-blooded dwarves were tiny; talking to one for too long could give you a crick in the neck. Even in this small detail, the blacksmith guild’s business sense shone through.
“Ahaha♡! Senior, senior~! Look at this, look!”
Larilura had picked up a mask labeled for trial use and stuck it on her face. It was a garishly painted wooden thing, but I could feel mana flowing through it—clearly enchanted.
“Doesn’t it look hilarious? Adventurers care more about performance than looks, but wearing something like this would make it hard to get any requests, right?”
“That’s probably a mask from an Aztec cannibal priest.”
“Hiiiiiiik?!”
Larilura nearly dropped the mask in shock. I caught it and returned it to its display. She rubbed her cheeks furiously, looking disgusted.
“Why would they sell something like that in a store?!”
“How should I know? Probably an artifact or loot.”
It might have been a drop item they picked up after fighting those cannibal priests. Selling it in a downtown shop was pretty ballsy. Or were they actually meant to be worn? Could be research material for magic studies.
The shout came from the counter, loud enough to rattle the whole store. The man yelling was a dwarf who looked every bit the thug, but his clothes were surprisingly high quality. My mana-enhanced eyes instantly spotted the calluses on his hands. I didn’t know if he was a full-time warrior, but those were the hands of someone who’d seen real fights.
The employee answered with the flat tone of someone used to dealing with problem customers. The dwarf customer’s face turned beet red as he roared again.
The enraged dwarf yanked a hand axe from his belt. Looked like he had no interest in letting the law handle things. Very admirable. What a fucking lunatic.
The employee who had stayed cool until now flinched and dropped to the floor. The law was far away, but the axe was right here. Still, keeping that icy attitude against someone holding a blade was easier said than done.
Even the dwarf who seemed to be the axe-wielding customer’s companion panicked. He bravely grabbed the man’s waist.
“H-hey, buddy!! Have you lost your mind?!”
“Let go!! Let go of me!!”
“G-guards!! Call the guards!!”
The place turned into complete chaos in seconds. Smart customers were already backing toward the entrance, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire. We had no reason to get involved either.
Hmm. Looks like it’s fucked. But is it really any of our business?
I decided to step back and return later. If we came back in an hour, things should be sorted. Goodbye, Ray Penber.
“Hey everyone, let’s—”
I had zero desire to jump into a fight whose circumstances I didn’t know, but a blonde, tanned punk barged in from behind us, radiating attitude. He was a human with thick eyebrows and brown skin. A bit on the short side. I blinked. I had noticed him approaching earlier. There was no killing intent, so I’d written him off as just another passerby.
But why the fuck is he suddenly butting in? And why the hell is he doing it with us standing right here?
If you’re going to intervene, walk ten more steps forward, damn it. That axe-wielding dwarf is clearly trying to figure out whether we’re with him or not.
The blonde punk brushed his gloved hand and strode past us.
Surprisingly reasonable words coming from a punk. But I’ve learned one life lesson: logic doesn’t work on drunks, lunatics, or problem customers. They don’t get angry for legitimate reasons—they get angry to get what they want.
The furious dwarf hurled his hand axe. I was stunned. I guess I had underestimated how seriously Nidavellir dwarves took their “hurry the hell up” mentality.
“Whoa, dangerous!”
The short punk dodged nimbly. Here was the problem: if the guy acting up in front of me dodged, what happened to the person standing behind him?
“God damn it.”
Of course the axe was flying straight at my solar plexus. I thought about catching it but didn’t want to draw attention, so I simply sidestepped. The punk looked startled and apologized.
“I dodged, so it’s fine. Go finish what you were doing.”
I answered casually. If that axe had flown toward Franc I would’ve had a much harder time controlling my anger, but it didn’t seem intentional, so I let it slide.
The gloved punk stepped in close and struck the axe-wielding dwarf in the back of the neck with a hand blade.
—Thud!
“Kek!”
The dwarf’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed instantly. I was genuinely impressed.
He’s got real skill despite how he looks.
To drop a trained dwarf with a natural tanker build that easily… He was definitely qualified to work security for a guild this size.
“Zoid, sir!”
More men in the same uniform rushed in. They were clearly guards. The man called Zoid slapped handcuffs on the fallen dwarf.
The guards dragged the dwarf off. His companions stood there dumbly watching their friend get hauled away. Zoid lowered his voice.
“Ah, no… he’s not usually like that…”
Zoid crossed his arms and sighed.
“……Umm. Sorry.”
The dwarf seemed convinced and left with a polite bow. He seemed like a decent guy. I wondered why he was hanging around with a loose cannon like that axe maniac.
After cleaning up the mess, Zoid patted the shaken receptionist on the shoulder and turned to me.
“Heh. Don’t worry about it. If you feel that bad, pay me in cash.”
I grinned and joked. Zoid burst out laughing like he’d been hit.
—Ping!
He flicked a coin. I caught it in my palm. Ten copper. Wow, fuck. Throwing away the equivalent of ten thousand won without hesitation? I could respect that. My mood instantly improved thanks to a single dose of financial therapy. Ten thousand won just for dealing with a problem customer for a minute? If I stayed here longer I might actually make some decent money.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
He must have noticed the rings on Franc and me. As expected of a pro. It was basic observation skill for any veteran who’d seen real combat. Once it becomes a habit, you automatically scan anyone who looks strong.
Zoid gave the explanation like he was reading from a manual and vanished like the wind. The whole incident had happened and been resolved so fast my head was spinning. Only the ten copper in my hand felt real.
“Still, ten copper as compensation is a total win, right?”
“Senior? If you go fishing for compensation money and actually get hit by an axe, you won’t be able to close your eyes even in death.”
“I won’t die, so it’s fine.”
Honestly, even if it had hit me or I’d caught it, I wouldn’t have been injured. We finished registering the armor commission and followed the guide into one of the guild’s private rooms.
***
“Whoa! What magnificent leather!”
The receptionist exclaimed when he saw the giant’s blue hide. He was examining a small piece we’d cut off for appraisal. Carrying the whole thing would have been heavy and far too conspicuous.
“Hehe. Thank you.”
Seeing a dwarf so impressed made me a little proud. A hunter who chases tails is happy when his prey is praised. Still, I couldn’t let my guard down. In this world, you could get your nose cut off while staring wide-eyed at the deal.
“The texture is excellent too. Did you hunt it yourself? What kind of monster was it?”
“Haha. Nothing special. We ran into it in a cave on the way here from Germania.”
I deflected the receptionist’s probing with smooth Taekwondo-level verbal footwork. He was obviously trying to fish for information about leather he’d never seen before, and I had zero interest in getting dragged into weird trouble. I hadn’t exactly lied, though—we really had found it in a cave.
The dwarf receptionist continued smoothly.
“Hmm, hmm. Just touching it, I can imagine how powerful it must have been while alive. Something like this would have been the apex predator of an entire region. May I ask where you encountered such a magnificent beast?”
Ah, so he was trying to narrow down the region at least. Sorry, but that thing was a unique mob. Plus, because I’d mentioned finding it in a cave, he seemed to assume we’d traveled by land. In reality we’d come by ship. I’d told a not-lie precisely to create that misunderstanding.
“Sorry, but as you can see I’m pretty ignorant about foreign geography. I just followed our guide the whole time without knowing where anything was.”
“Hmm… I see. What kind of work did you have in mind?”
He’d given up. I handed over the design sketch Franc had drawn.
“I’d like you to turn this into armor. My wife drew it. Please follow this design exactly.”
“Oh ho. Your wife drew this? She’s beautiful and talented—how enviable.”
While the receptionist laid on the flattery, we discussed details and settled on a price. The expected completion time was ten days. If they added all my extra requests it might take a little longer, but he assured me it wouldn’t exceed two weeks. That wouldn’t interfere with our return plans.
The dwarf receptionist scribbled on the paperwork.
“Including all options, the total for the armor comes to six silver.”
Oh fuck. Look at how ridiculously expensive that is. Six silver was six million won. My earlier joy at pocketing ten copper suddenly felt pathetic. Still, I’d learned to recover quickly ever since my spending habits grew after my recent successes.
“Could I see the price list?”
“Of course.”
I took the document and looked it over with Franc. Larilura tried to peek in too, so I gently nudged her aside. I’d heard that ordering a custom high-end suit at a department store could cost hundreds of thousands, so six silver for combat armor in this world didn’t seem completely outrageous. Probably.
—Tug.
Franc pulled my collar under the table where the receptionist couldn’t see, clearly criticizing my thinking. I reversed my opinion in 0.1 seconds.
“I’ll consult with my party for a moment. Please wait three minutes.”
“Hmm? If the amount is insufficient—”
“Hehe. We’ll talk more when I get back.”
I cut him off before he could offer a loan or suggest selling leftover leather. The three of us stepped outside.
“Franc, why? Was the price too high?”
“Yes. The dyeing fee was ridiculously expensive.”
Larilura answered first. How did she know that? Noticing my confusion, she tugged at her own clothes.
“Ahaha♡! Senior, come on~ Did you think a charming girl like me wouldn’t know about clothes and the dyes that color them? The circus is an art that captures people’s eyes, you know?”
“Ah, right. I didn’t even consider the dyeing cost.”
Though I’d only overheard it, wasn’t the dye price the exact reason that axe dwarf had gone berserk earlier?
Franc thought for a moment, then spoke.
“Just like Larilura said, it’s extremely expensive. They said one serpe is the weight of a small pouch, and three serpe costs one silver? At this rate, half the armor cost will be just the dye.”
“That’s kind of a big problem.”
I could understand high labor costs in a country that respected craftsmanship, but spending hundreds of thousands just to dye clothes felt excessive.
But walking around in full blue armor isn’t exactly ideal either.
The giant’s leather was pretty, but an all-blue outfit was too much. From my experience with stealth, black clothes were far more practical in every way.
“……Norde. This is just my personal thought, but.”
Our Franc was a thief; she understood the issue without me saying anything. Maybe that was why, in less than two minutes, our wife—who now managed the household ledger like a proper housewife—dropped a frugality tip.
“How about leaving the work with them and using the free time to go find the dye ourselves?”