Chapter 36: Flames of the Furnace (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 36: Flames of the Furnace (1)
On the day Barco released their public statement, Roman went to see his father.
He got straight to the point.
"The war between Barco and Lawrence. I intend to intervene in that conflict under the name of Roman Dmitry."
Baron Romero froze. He had been casually sipping his tea just a moment ago, but now his gaze turned fierce as he glared at his son.
"Do you have any idea what that means?"
"I do."
"You know, yet you still spout such nonsense! The war between Barco and Lawrence is a legally sanctioned conflict approved by the Central Government. If you had married the Lawrence girl, we could have intervened under the pretext of being in-laws. But now? We have absolutely no justification. If you're thinking of helping Lawrence out of some sudden change of heart, abandon those thoughts immediately. It will only bring disaster upon our family."
Clack!
He slammed his teacup down, his trembling mustache betraying his fury.
And here I thought he had finally grown up after his recent behavior...
Intervening in a territorial war was no simple matter. The Central Government's authority was absolute within the Cairo Kingdom, and fighting a war without proper justification was a one-way ticket to the abyss.
Such was the world of nobles. Back when he was a commoner, he could act on a whim without consequence, but as a ruler managing an entire territory, he could no longer afford such luxury. The moment they intervened in the Barco-Lawrence war, the nobles of the northeast would immediately sever all ties with Dmitry. In the worst-case scenario, the Central Government might even dispatch troops to subjugate them.
While Dmitry's wealth and reputation might prevent the absolute worst, it remained an incredibly dangerous gamble.
Roman spoke up. "Father. How do you want me to live my life from now on?"
"Where is this coming from all of a sudden?!"
"My decision to intervene isn't born from a mere change of heart. I recently experienced an unsavory incident. Antony Barco, the eldest son of the Barco family, grew jealous of my potential marriage to Flora Lawrence and attempted to blackmail me. I have no evidence to prove what happened that day. However, it made me realize something. People claim Dmitry is the true power in the northeast, yet Barco already looks down on us as if we are beneath them."
Roman's voice was calm. His pacing was steady, placing emphasis exactly where it was needed.
It was strange. His own son—the Roman Dmitry he had watched grow his entire life—was exuding an unfamiliar aura. It gripped Baron Romero's heart, instantly turning the tide of the conversation.
"Father, you are a blacksmith at heart. On the surface, you wish to establish yourself as a noble, but in truth, you possess immense power and wealth yet choose to do nothing with it. You might be satisfied with how things are now. But I, your son Roman Dmitry, am different. I desire power. From now on, I have no intention of standing idly by while anyone—Barco or otherwise—drags the Dmitry name through the mud. As for justification? We have enough. Just as Barco fabricated a pretext out of thin air to declare a territory war, to those with true power, justification is nothing more than a word game."
He looked straight into his father's eyes.
This new life... he still felt as though he were adrift on a vast, boundless sea. Yet, even amidst this uncertainty, the core identity of the man known as Baek Joong-hyuk remained unwavering.
He would live a life of absolute dominion.
He didn't bother looking too far ahead. He didn't look toward the edge of the ocean, but at the enemy right in front of him—like a shark suddenly surfacing before his eyes.
He would crush them. He would tear off the shark's fins, devour its flesh and blood, and prove to the world that he was still very much alive.
"I am not asking to borrow the family's strength. I am simply sharing my thoughts because I want you to watch what I do. I will not intervene in Barco's conflict as the eldest son of Dmitry, but as an individual—Roman Dmitry. So, please, watch me. The path I walk from this moment on will dictate the rest of my life."
It was a one-sided declaration. He didn't expect his father's support, but he knew he at least needed his tacit approval.
Roman knew the truth—his current power stemmed entirely from the Dmitry name—and he didn't try to ignore it. He acknowledged reality. To make the absolute most of what he had, he needed the consent of his father, Romero Dmitry.
"...Ahem."
Baron Romero looked flustered.
Roman. The son he had always worried about the most was growing more formidable with each passing day.
Looking into Roman's eyes, which burned with fierce ambition as they stared straight back at him, Baron Romero realized this was not something he could stop.
Roman had bloomed. The Roman who had lived like a dog, mocked as the Fool of Dmitry, had finally realized he was born a beast.
In truth, Romero had always dreamed a moment like this would come. He himself was of humble birth. Unlike himself, who was content ruling a small territory, he wished for his sons to transcend the limitations of their status.
Silence hung in the air.
Finally, Baron Romero, who had been staring at Roman in quiet contemplation, spoke with firm resolve.
"Do as you wish. And tell me if there is anything you need. You are my son, and I, Romero Dmitry, am Roman Dmitry's father. No matter what you do, you will never have to bear the burden alone."
That was enough. His father had given Roman the exact words he needed to hear.
* * *
He didn't actually need his father's help.
He had fully intended to handle everything on his own, but if he were to accept any assistance, there was exactly one thing he required: weapons and armor to equip his soldiers.
Thirty men. He couldn't very well send them onto the battlefield empty-handed.
Since all material resources—including the funds to pay the soldiers—ultimately came from his father, Roman spoke his mind honestly.
Baron Romero readily agreed.
"Go find Hendrick, the master of the forge. Tell him it is my request, and he will provide you with everything you need."
Master Blacksmith. It was a title that symbolized the Dmitry family itself.
In the past, Baron Romero had managed all the affairs of the forge as its master. However, when he received his title of nobility, Hendrick—who had worked alongside him for years—succeeded him.
Hendrick was a master craftsman renowned throughout the Cairo Kingdom. As the master of the Dmitry forge, he was in charge of all steel production.
He was a man Roman had wanted to meet at least once.
As soon as Roman parted from his father, he headed straight for the forge. Before long, a familiar sound reached his ears.
Clang!
Clang! Clang!
The Dmitry Forge.
It was a place of blazing fire that operated day and night. Blacksmiths vigorously hammered away at pieces of iron with thick, muscular arms, a scene that stretched endlessly in every direction.
Dmitry's forge was the largest in the Cairo Kingdom. A single workshop was defined as a space where several blacksmiths could work simultaneously; in the area known as Blacksmith Street, there were as many as thirty of these workshops.
It was magnificent. One look at this place instantly answered any questions about how the Dmitry family had amassed such immense wealth.
The reason Dmitry is so strong is that their wealth stems from their own craftsmanship. The iron mine behind the territory has the largest reserves in the kingdom, and Dmitry's blacksmiths possess the skills to turn that raw ore into high-value goods. That's why the nobles in the northeastern region never try to cross Dmitry. It's not just that they fear Dmitry's wealth; being cut off from Dmitry-made steel weapons is a fatal blow within the Cairo Kingdom.
He walked forward.
A few blacksmiths caught sight of Roman. Yet, despite the eldest son of Dmitry appearing at the forge, not a single one of them attempted to greet him.
It wasn't just a matter of his poor reputation. Baron Romero had once said:
"My son, the blacksmiths of Dmitry are incredibly proud people. They are not the type to show blind loyalty just because you carry the Dmitry name. Only those who truly understand iron and possess the skill to work it can earn the genuine respect of a blacksmith."
For that reason, Roman's younger brothers practically lived at the forge. The second son, in particular, had ambitions for the succession and possessed enough passion to seek out the Master Blacksmith and ask to learn the craft.
In contrast, the original Roman had naturally never set foot near the place. Sweating and wrestling with iron was grueling labor—a highly unappealing prospect for a noble who sought only pleasure.
The cold shoulder from the blacksmiths was exactly as he had expected.
Roman walked in silence until he finally arrived at his destination.
Tap.
"You came to see me?"
Hendrick. A dark-skinned, middle-aged man looked over, his face drenched in sweat. Upon confirming that his visitor was Roman, his expression twisted in disgust.
"What brings you here?"
Hendrick, the master of the forge. He judged people by dividing them into two simple categories: those he liked, and those he didn't. Naturally, Roman Dmitry belonged to the latter—specifically, the "extremely detested" subcategory.
What on earth is this punk doing here?
There was once a time when Roman had been dragged to the forge by his father's hand. Back then, Hendrick had been eager to teach Romero's eldest son, but he quickly grew sick of Roman's constant whining and complaining about not wanting to do dirty work.
If it had ended there, he might not have despised the boy. But there was one decisive incident that completely ruined Roman in Hendrick's eyes.
That day, Roman had needed money. Having been cut off from his allowance by his father, he sneaked into the forge to scrounge up some drinking funds. He stole the finest-looking sword he could find—a masterpiece Hendrick had poured his heart and soul into crafting—and sold it to a street merchant for a pittance.
Naturally, Hendrick had absolutely exploded. He beat Roman mercilessly right in front of Baron Romero, and even the Baron had stood by and let the blacksmith thrash his eldest son.
From that day on, Roman became an object of absolute disgust to Hendrick. He couldn't even stand looking at him.
Therefore, when Roman requested equipment for thirty men, Hendrick naturally did not react kindly.
"Take whatever you want from those piles in the corner. That should be more than enough to equip thirty men."
In the corner of the forge, discarded weapons and armor lay piled up like scrap.
Just because they're made of the same iron doesn't mean they're good weapons. Those are failures made by the apprentices. But Roman Dmitry doesn't have the eye to judge quality steel anyway. He's the type of fool who'll smile happily while hauling away rejects.
Hendrick knew this was Baron Romero's request. However, he still had no desire to do Roman any favors. Even now, whenever he recalled the day he lost his masterpiece, his hands itched to slap the young master across the face.
This was his limit. Handing over garbage was the absolute best he was willing to do. Frankly, he felt he was only doing this much because Roman was Romero's son.
"You want me to take those?"
"Yeah."
Roman examined the condition of the items. He didn't even need to look closely. If it had been the Roman that Hendrick remembered, there wouldn't have been an issue. But the eyes of the current Roman—inhabited by the soul of the Heavenly Demon, Baek Joong-hyuk—were entirely different.
Roman spoke. "My father told me to collect good weapons and armor to equip my soldiers. Yet, is this really Master Hendrick's best?"
"Best, my foot! If you're not satisfied with that, get the hell out of my forge!"
"Master Hendrick."
Clack.
Roman picked up a sword. He held the blade up to the light, then looked straight at Hendrick.
"It seems the reputation of Dmitry steel being the best in Cairo is nothing but a hollow rumor. To offer such garbage as equipment for soldiers... I will ask you once more. Do you truly believe this is your best, Master Hendrick?"
A sharp, biting response.
It was a scenario Hendrick had never anticipated.