VII. The Monster of Spitzenberg (7)
VII. The Monster of Spitzenberg (7)
Iron grew harder beneath a hammer. A person did not.
Keldric needed armor capable of stopping the monster’s attacks—or at least its claws.
Taking those blows in poor armor would leave him in a pool of blood.
Blood would be the fortunate outcome. Those vicious claws looked eager to introduce his internal organs to the outside world.
He could dodge or block, but Keldric believed the wisest course was to choose every available advantage.
Fighting in armor with a weapon was not child’s play.
A helmet already restricted his vision, and facing a monster that could send several men flying in the middle of the night was dangerous.
No normal person enjoyed pain. Keldric was no exception.
"The quality is quite good."
"Oh, thank you, sir."
In that respect, every item made by the craftsmen of Spitzenberg was excellent.
Even the ring produced by tapping the steel felt different. Keldric could personally sense the quality of Spitzenberg steel.
"Is there some special method for producing steel this hard?"
"Most of us use material supplied by the steelworks. The winds are strong here, so perhaps they help maintain the heat..."
The dwarf craftsman’s answer did little to enlighten him.
Keldric knew nothing about smelting iron or producing steel.
As far as he understood, people put iron into something hot, hammered it when it glowed red, and returned it to the fire once the outer scale cracked away.
He knew that carbon content distinguished iron from steel—particularly high-quality steel—but nothing beyond that.
"It’s unusual to build steelworks in the mountains."
"The operation is small. The grounds are limited, and it only needs to supply the local forges. We sell whatever ore remains."
Even unprocessed iron from Spitzenberg’s mines was considered high grade, so buyers were plentiful.
Keldric continued asking questions and tried to maintain a friendly conversation with the dwarf.
'Maybe he’ll lower the price.'
People haggled over a single apple at the market. Once the conversation loosened the stern craftsman up, Keldric might be able to bargain with him too.
That was why Keldric kept asking questions despite knowing nothing about metallurgy.
"I’ll take this one."
"An excellent choice. It’s the finest piece I’ve made."
Keldric lifted the steel breastplate, secured with sturdy leather straps, in both hands.
The breastplate extended from the chest to the abdomen in articulated sections and did not yield even when Keldric pressed it.
Its only obvious weakness was that it protected only the torso.
Even with pauldrons and gauntlets, his armpits would remain exposed.
Chain mail beneath it would reduce the risk, but the gaps still made him uneasy.
The same was true of the plate assemblies called leg harnesses, which enclosed the entire legs.
If someone crawled across a chaotic battlefield and drove a dagger into his groin, the uncovered area would not enjoy the protection offered by plate.
"Do you have anything that covers... more?"
"Uh... Sir Keldric, there is no armor that protects the entire body more completely than this."
"Really?"
Keldric had imagined full plate armor: steel covering the entire body.
But that conception was wrong. True full plate required metallurgy at its absolute peak.
No such armor was available here. Most knights in the Empire wore equipment like this.
Something closer might exist in the southern republics, but a knight’s finest armor still left the joints partly uncovered to preserve mobility.
"Ah! Could you mean a brigandine?"
"No, never mind. Let’s consider this one first."
"Understood. But, well..."
The form of the armor was not the only problem.
"Isn’t it a little small?"
"...Can you make one to measure?"
Plate armor was generally custom-made.
Knights were its primary users, and armor fitted precisely to the wearer performed better in battle.
Finished pieces for sale were usually made to a standardized size or had passed through several hands after a knight’s death before returning to a craftsman.
"Of course. But it would take considerable time and money."
"How much?"
"I would have to measure you properly, but armor built for your physique would require a great deal of labor."
The amount of steel supplied to Spitzenberg’s craftsmen was limited because the local steelworks was small.
A truly well-made custom suit of Spitzenberg steel would cost more than a small fortune.
"So how much?"
"I cannot give an exact figure yet, but perhaps... this much."
"What...?"
His jaw truly dropped.
Keldric stared at the short fingers the dwarf cautiously held up.
A complete suit of plate made to Keldric’s measurements—especially from Spitzenberg steel—would devour money at a shocking rate.
"The work would also take some time. You would need to allow at least a month..."
"That’s far too long."
"My apologies. Custom work involves a complicated process."
Custom armor also took time. A month would carry him well beyond the end of Lent.
Keldric had no intention of remaining in Spitzenberg for an entire month.
He could repair his current chain mail and continue wearing it underneath.
What Keldric wanted was plate armor over it.
Keldric handled the armor with a troubled expression, reluctant to let it go.
"For now... I would at least like this chain mail repaired."
"Ah, yes. We can do that."
He had to begin with what was possible.
Keldric removed the heavy chain mail as though it were paper and handed it over. The dwarf stared at him as if he were some bizarre creature.
"How long will the repair take?"
Four long tears followed the claw marks. Three scratches across the chest were roughly a handspan long, while the fourth was shallower and half that length.
Fortunately, the gambeson beneath had only been slightly torn. A little deeper and his body would not have remained intact.
The dwarf examined the damaged mail for some time, then nodded after estimating the work.
"One day should be enough. I’ll call my apprentice."
Dwarves were not merely skilled technicians. Their short fingers were remarkably precise at intricate work.
Keldric did not understand how such delicate craftsmanship came from those stubby hands, but ignorance was bliss.
"That’s disappointing."
The most urgent problem was solved, but Keldric remained dissatisfied and looked around the forge.
Several inexpensive items hung on the walls, all of excellent quality.
"Would you like to see some weapons?"
After measuring Keldric and sending the mail away with an apprentice, the dwarf approached him.
Keldric smacked his lips instead of answering.
The unpleasant sensation of his blade cutting into the monster’s furred hide still tingled through his hand.
He had swung with every intention of cutting it down, yet produced only a shallow wound.
He had not used all his strength. That might have cut through, but it would probably have shattered the sword as well.
A mace required him to move closer than a longsword. Even if he used one for this hunt, getting hit would become almost inevitable.
That was why he had come looking for armor in the first place.
Keldric was growing tired of accepting that disadvantage in every fight.
'I have a territorial war ahead of me too.'
With a territorial war approaching, the stronger his equipment, the better. Compared with other knights, Keldric was lightly armed.
"From the way you asked, do you have a worthwhile weapon?"
"Of course. There’s one weapon that came to mind the moment I saw you."
"Let’s have a look."
The excited dwarf disappeared into the back of the forge and returned with a large longsword.
"Here it is."
The black leather scabbard immediately drew Keldric’s eye. Crossing silver thread provided tasteful decoration.
The crossguard, pommel, grip, and every other fitting showed excellent workmanship.
Keldric slowly drew the weapon. Instead of the shining blade he expected, an ink-dark edge emerged.
Its dull, muted surface seemed to absorb all light. Keldric’s expression became difficult to read.
Surely the dwarf was not trying to sell him a blade mixed with scrap iron.
"What is this?"
"This is... meteoric iron. Good heavens."
Alisa, who had been quietly examining the forge, approached with wide eyes.
Keldric stared at her. Her visible excitement over the meteoric iron faded when she met his awkward gaze, and she cleared her throat before stepping back.
"Meteoric iron? Iron from a meteorite?"
"Yes. Items made from it are usually somewhat heavier, but very strong."
"Oh..."
Meteoric iron came from meteorites.
It was rare and valuable. A well-forged meteoric-iron weapon could be harder than steel.
Meteorites crossed the night sky as balls of fire, so some people regarded the metal as a gift from God.
But meteoric iron was not always valuable.
Meteorites were rare, finding one rich in iron depended on luck, and low-grade meteoric iron could be worse than steel.
The dwarf’s confidence suggested that this piece was excellent.
"Let me see it."
"Of course. Take your time."
Keldric carefully examined the longsword’s ink-dark blade.
The rough, muted color of meteoric iron might have looked ominous by itself, but the excellent fittings gave the weapon a forceful presence.
It was heavier than an ordinary iron sword, but that was an advantage for Keldric rather than a drawback.
In short, he loved it.
"How much?"
"Well... to tell the truth, this one was returned."
"Returned?"
The dwarf explained that a foolish noble had ordered the meteoric-iron longsword, failed to swing it more than a few times, and demanded a refund.
Unfortunately, that noble was on good terms with Baron Spitzenberg, so the dwarf had refunded him through bitter tears.
Keldric’s eyes flashed. Opportunities like this did not come often.
"Now that I look closely, there seems to be a small scratch here."
"W-what?! No, that can’t be..."
"There’s another here, and here. Did someone strike a person with the pommel? It’s slightly dented."
The startled dwarf examined the sword and discovered that Keldric was not lying.
"Hrrmm..."
"I don’t lie."
"Very well. I’ll take five coins off: twenty-five ducat gold coins."
"Twenty-four."
"...Twenty-four and a half. No lower."
"Good."
A large bundle of ducat gold coins left his purse, but Keldric felt no regret.
Acquiring such a fine weapon unexpectedly filled him with confidence. This blade felt capable of cutting the monster down.
"Did you really need to tell me that story?"
"Which story...?"
"If you hadn’t said it was returned, I would have paid full price."
The dwarf flared his nostrils, looking slightly offended, but pride shone in his eyes.
"A dwarf blessed by the mountains does not lie, my lord."
"I’ll remember that."
After entrusting the meteoric-iron longsword to Arno, Keldric purchased several other items.
He left the damaged chain mail for a day of repairs and ultimately bought only a breastplate from the plate armor.
It was slightly small, but adding extension pieces would make it wearable.
"When it is finished tomorrow, I’ll send someone to the inner castle."
"Understood."
Keldric left the forge with a lighter heart while trying to ignore how much lighter his purse had become.
He headed toward the inner castle. Since his armor was still being repaired, he intended to rest that evening.
'The monster will need time to recover too.'
* * * * *
"Sir Keldric, we think we found where the creature is hiding."
There was no time to rest after all. Keldric looked uneasily at the soldier before him.
"Where is it?"
"It’s... behind the church."
"...What?"
The resting place of a murderous monster that appeared at night was none other than the church’s rear courtyard.
Keldric's face twisted slightly.
Whatever the details, if the report was true, this was no ordinary matter.