Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Mage Hunt (2)
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Old Man Ironhammer, Gullak's smithy was cramped and shabby.
The metallic tang mingled with the musty stench of mold, brewing a foul odor like rotting blood. Iron tongs, hammers, chisels, and massive sledges lay scattered haphazardly across the floor, while the racks meant for finished products stood utterly empty. The rusted anvil, the bellows riddled with holes, and the furnace hollow as a corpse's eye socket had long forgotten the days filled with roaring heat and flying embers.
An awkward air hung between the owner and his uninvited guests. Still, hospitality demanded it, so Gullak hobbled out with a tray. Some murky, unidentified liquid sloshed in the dented tin cups.
"......I'm sorry there's nothing proper to offer you, Your Excellency the Intendant. It's liquor I brewed two years back. Not sure if it'll suit your tastes."
"No, no, it's fine. It's my fault for showing up unannounced like this."
Gullak set the tray atop the anvil, using it as a table. Enrico let out a groan. Any other smith who revered their anvil as sacred would be horrified at the sight. But Kadim merely picked up his cup without a fuss and downed the booze in one gulp.
Then he gave his honest impression.
"Tastes like absolute shit. You brew this with dog milk or something?"
"......"
The already tense atmosphere grew even chillier.
Enrico couldn't believe his ears. How utterly insulting could words be? To smooth things over, he hurriedly took a sip himself.
But he couldn't even swallow a mouthful before spewing it out.
"Urk, hack! Ptui, ptui, ptui! W-What...... What the hell kind of booze is this, Gullak?!"
"......It's dog milk liquor, Your Excellency. My apologies. Doesn't seem to be to your liking after all."
While Enrico wore a look of utter shock, Gullak cleared away the cups he'd brought. As he rose, he stole a glance at Kadim. Somehow, the way he looked at the barbarian had shifted just a little.
It took some time for Remtana's Intendant to recover from the shock of the dog milk liquor. Once he finally pulled himself together, Gullak reconfirmed what he'd heard earlier.
"So, this Atalain mercenary...... took down the troll blocking Twin Gorge?"
"Ahem, yes. All by himself, no less."
"And he saved Your Excellency's life too?"
"That's right."
"So that's why Your Excellency introduced me to him?"
"Exactly. No matter what anyone says, there's no smith in our city who matches your skill."
"......"
Gullak's face hardened like coal. Enrico forced a stiff smile. Beneath the uncomfortable silence, the two eyed each other warily.
Kadim found the whole situation downright bizarre.
It wasn't odd for a smith to watch the Intendant's mood. When a city's top authority visited in person, anyone would tread carefully. But for the Intendant to be watching the smith's mood? That was definitely strange. He could force the man to work if he wanted...
The truly bizarre part came after.
Enrico wiped the strained smile from his face and stroked his chin. He hemmed and hawed, let out a heavy sigh, then rose from his seat.
And knelt before the smith.
"......!"
Startled by the sudden act, Gullak's eyes bulged like fists. Head bowed, Enrico spoke calmly.
"It's far too late, but I'll apologize on behalf of everyone for all you've endured. When one ascends to the role of Intendant, they must bear the burdens of the entire city. Yet in my negligence of that obvious duty, this apology comes belatedly."
"......"
"I know full well it's been ages since you last touched smithing work. Still, couldn't you lend a hand to my benefactor just this once? This isn't something just anyone could do. I can entrust it only to a craftsman as tight-lipped and skilled as you."
Kadim pierced the dim gloom and caught Gullak's agitation.
His tangled beard twitched. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes quivered. It was the desolate sorrow of an old man who longed to weep but found his well of tears run dry.
The turmoil didn't subside for quite some time. Only after a long while did Gullak regain his composure and haltingly speak.
"......Please stand, Your Excellency. You've done nothing wrong—why kneel before a lowly ironsmith like me......"
Enrico showed no sign of rising. Only when Gullak hobbled over to help him up did he finally get to his feet.
"Alright, fine. Hell, when even Your Excellency goes this far, how can I just turn you away...... Let's hear what it's about, at least."
Enrico expressed deep gratitude and beckoned outside. The waiting soldiers grunted as they hauled in a massive something wrapped tightly in a cover. When they pulled it away, the form of sturdy plate armor gleamed into view.
An exclamation burst from Gullak's lips.
"Well, damn, by Remillion...... This is......"
"It's armor worn by an imperial high paladin. And inside it are fragments that shredded a 'divine soldier'."
Kadim said flatly. Gullak rubbed his eyes in disbelief, then smacked his forehead.
"Goddamn, holy shit. Live long enough, and you see it all. Never thought I'd lay eyes on a high paladin's gear in my lifetime...... How the hell did something this insane end up here?"
"Complicated backstory. Nothing good comes from knowing it, so I'll skip the details. And obviously, don't breathe a word of this to anyone."
"......"
"Anyway, I want these turned into weapons. Think you can manage it, old timer?"
Gullak's mind had already wandered far away. Entranced, he examined the armor meticulously. Not content with that, he touched it, tapped it, stroked it, kneaded it, even took a bite from a chip. He leaned in so close he nearly scorched his face on the divine soldier fragments' heat.
After what felt like hours, the smith finished his inspection. Sweating profusely, he shared his awestruck thoughts.
"Blood iron and cobalt...... Magnetite and refined silver, plus a few other alloys mixed in. It's pulled off an insane combo of heat resistance and strength. The engraving techniques, the rivets—pure artistry. And there's some mysterious power infused I don't even recognize. Damn, I'd love to peek inside too, but those divine soldier bits are too hot......"
"......"
"But that divine soldier stuff—can't touch it due to rejection, right? Melt the whole thing down, and the blessings vanish. So how the hell am I supposed to forge that into a weapon?"
Kadim explained his envisioned method step by step. Truth be told, even after coming this far, he was still half-doubting if it would actually work.
Gullak scoffed once he'd heard it all.
"Ridiculous. What, you think metal's some lump of clay you can mash and stick anywhere? No smith in the whole world could handle that kind of processing."
Just as disappointment set in, thinking it was impossible after all, a low follow-up came.
"Except for the ancient dwarves who conquered the Northlands... and Remtana's own 'Old Man Ironhammer'."
Old Man Ironhammer, Gullak, grinned, flashing his broken front teeth.
It was a smile brimming with pride in his own skill.
"......Then I'll leave it in your hands."
Gullak nodded vigorously. The artisan's eyes, dulled by long idleness, now burned with furnace-like fire once more. In a voice bubbling with excitement, as if he were a different man, he bellowed.
"I'll get right to work, so don't worry and head on out, Your Excellency! Let's see, first clean this place top to bottom, scrape the rust off the anvil, fix the bellows, buy firewood and coal...... Ah! Hey, mercenary fellow. You downed that booze like a champ earlier—want more? Got some left......"
Kadim nearly spat a harsh retort. Had this old coot already forgotten he'd called it tasteless shit?
But since he'd entrusted him with the job, buttering him up a bit wouldn't hurt. He handed over his empty leather waterskin agreeably. Gullak beamed as he filled it to the brim with dog milk liquor. Whether genuinely thrilled or not, he even offered unasked extras.
"Oh, need any weapon maintenance? Won't take long anyway—might as well tweak 'em if I've got spare time."
After some thought, Kadim offered only Mosquito and held back the axe. The dwarven axe wasn't in bad shape anyway, and handing it over might distract the smith into wasting half a day gawking.
"Damn, you've brutalized this blade...... Making what you asked for, fixing the sword—should take at least a fortnight to wrap everything up. Go wander the city and enjoy yourself in the meantime!"
By now, the sun had set, draping the outside in dusky evening light. The Intendant, the barbarian, and the soldiers filed out of the rundown smithy one by one.
All the way down the street, the excited smith's bustling noises never ceased.
"......Poor old man. His life ruined by talent too exceptional."
On the road exiting the outskirts and heading toward the city center. Though unasked, Enrico shared Gullak's backstory.
"He's a native who's lived in Remtana long before I arrived. Word was, even as a kid, he showed incredible talent with metalwork—famous around these parts."
Back then, monsters plagued the area around Remtana, so plenty of mercenaries stuck around. Demand for quality weapons and armor was high, naturally. As the finest smith, Gullak raked in money and fame—it was inevitable. He soon married a village girl, had a son, and built a prosperous family.
But the Magic Tower's extermination order changed his fate.
The massive purge wiped out the monsters. The mercenaries who lived by hunting them all left the city. After years of struggling with the drop in demand, Gullak decided to leave Remtana for the big city of Delutana.
"Even free folk need a massive relocation fee to transfer residency to another city. It wasn't enough for what he'd saved his whole life. Desperate, he used it all to move his wife and son's residency first. Planned to earn enough here and follow after."
But the previous Intendant had no intention of letting him go. A skilled smith was a rare, irreplaceable asset. He demanded double the usual fee, binding Gullak's feet with nonsense.
Gullak ground his teeth at the injustice but had no choice. An Intendant wasn't someone a mere smith could defy. Enduring longing for his family, he scraped together money for years. Finally, he presented the hefty relocation fee to the Intendant.
"But that Intendant broke his promise. Instead of approving the move to Delutana...... he framed him, seized his assets, and severed Gullak's Achilles tendons."
"......"
Now Kadim understood. Why the smith had abandoned his craft. Why the two had been so awkward with each other. Why the Intendant had knelt before the smith.
No great emotion stirred in him. It was the world's commonplace misery, something he'd seen countless times since 300 years ago. If anything, the Intendant apologizing for faults not his own felt far more alien to Kadim.
Sensing his gaze, the Intendant added a few words.
"An Alliance Intendant is distinctly different from an imperial lord. Lords rule one territory their whole lives, but an Intendant stays in a city at most ten years."
"......"
"But as I said, that doesn't change the duty to bear all the city's burdens during that time. Even if it's not my fault, his pain and injustice now rest on my shoulders. I meant to visit him someday anyway, but pressing matters kept delaying it. Thanks to you, I finally had the chance to apologize."
"......Being Intendant doesn't sound easy."
"You learn a lot, and it's rewarding. Though I'd be lying if I said that's the only reason I do it......"
By the time their talk wrapped up, they'd reached the Intendant's residence. Enrico suggested Kadim stay there awhile to help search for traces of the mage. Kadim declined. A hulking barbarian traipsing in and out would draw too much attention.
Instead, he chose an inn on the central street.
"Welcome to 'The Drunken Ox'!"
Crossing the threshold, a bob-haired waitress greeted him cheerfully.
As befitting a proper city, the facilities put rural dives like 'Ekkl's Feast' utterly to shame. For just 10 luden, you could bathe in hot water at the bathhouse, the waitress said—Duncan could barely hide his ecstasy. When she added that for 100 luden, they'd even provide a woman to assist, he panicked.
"H-Ha, haha, that's...... No thank you, I-I have a wife back home......"
Duncan politely refused. Even when she tempted him that his wife wouldn't know unless he returned home with a woman on his arm, he wouldn't budge. The waitress switched targets. She trailed Kadim all the way to the bathhouse, persistently hawking her wares.
"Our girls are really good, you know? Big guys like you, sir, with big...... Whoa, by Remillion......"
"......"
"E-Even big Atalain men with huge...... tools all left satisfied......"
Faced with the barbarian's chiseled muscles and endowment, the waitress blushed and gulped. She slowly looked up, scanning him, only to reach his fiercely scowling face and give up on the sale.
Holding a woman had been a luxury he'd forsaken since his frenzy first awakened. Kadim scrubbed off his travel grime and returned to his room. Duncan, who'd arrived first, was melting into the stuffed mattress, looking happier than at any point since their journey began.
The sight stirred a fading memory.
Lounging all day on a fluffy bed, ordering chicken whenever he felt like it, chugging ice-cold canned beer. An old memory that might remain forever just that—a memory.
That's why staying in nice places always felt off. Kadim twisted his lips bitterly and prepared to head out again.
"Wander the city for a bit, Duncan. If you get thirsty overnight, drain that waterskin."
"Understood, sir! B-But what will you be doing here, sir?"
"Hunting mages."
"......Pardon?"
Kadim offered no further explanation and leaped out the window.
A landing silent despite his bulk. Cool night air brushed his rough skin. Being a small city, few places still had lights on. The moonlight had vanished too, leaving only modest starlight scattered across the sky.
That was plenty for the barbarian's eyes to pierce the night's veil.
'Intendant said that mage frequented the city's north side...... Better start there.'
Kadim dashed through the night air. The mighty silhouette of the barbarian warrior melted into the pitch-black darkness.