Chapter 37: Flames of the Furnace (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 37: Flames of the Furnace (2)
"Trash."
At that single word, which struck directly at his pride as an artisan, Hendrick's eyebrows shot up.
"Dmitry steel boasts the absolute highest quality in the Cairo Kingdom. Yet you, someone who doesn't even know how a forge operates, who has never shed a single drop of sweat in front of a blazing furnace, dare to judge it?!"
His voice rose in anger.
It was true that the items Roman had evaluated were trash. They wouldn't even be considered low-grade by Dmitry's standards.
However, he despised the fact that Roman was the one saying it.
In Hendrick's memory, Roman was an irredeemable waste of space. Pure personal emotion flushed the blacksmith's face red.
"If it weren't for the request of your father, Baron Romero, I wouldn't have given you a single thing. Roman Dmitry. You are the eldest son of the Dmitry family, a family that has made blacksmithing its lifelong calling. While your younger brother, Rodwell Dmitry, spent years doing menial labor under me to prepare for his succession, you spent your days wandering the streets, lusting after women, wasting your life away! Do you know what that means? It means that you, Roman Dmitry, are far more of an irredeemable piece of trash than the items scattered on this floor. These things may be poor in quality, but if they find an owner, they will still serve a purpose. But you? As the eldest son of Dmitry, you are a useless piece of trash who knows how to do nothing—no, who can do nothing!"
It was a scathing tongue-lashing.
Dmitry's foundation lay in the forge.
The eldest son of the family, who had rejected and ignored this very foundation, could never earn the respect of the workers who had built the territory with their blood, sweat, and tears.
Is it this kind of situation again?
Hendrick.
He was a man Roman had never seen before.
Though his face was completely absent from Baek Joong-hyuk's memories, the man was pouring out his wrath toward Roman Dmitry based on his own experiences, not mere prejudice. It was a familiar sight. Although Roman hadn't lived as Roman Dmitry for very long, no matter where he went or whom he met, no one had ever shown him goodwill from the start.
Except for one person.
Hans was the sole exception.
Hans had devoted himself entirely to Roman, which was exactly why Roman had brought him into his inner circle without needing any other reason.
I don't completely misunderstand Hendrick's reaction. If the eldest son of Dmitry, who has never shown any interest in the forge, suddenly shows up only when he needs something and starts passing judgment, it's bound to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
He understood.
The man's thoughts.
The man's feelings.
Hendrick's anger was perfectly natural, but as Roman faced that wrath, one thing rubbed him the wrong way.
The Master Blacksmith. The true power of Dmitry and the artisan who oversees the forge. He deserves respect, but looking at the current situation, this is a different story altogether. He isn't denying that the items I evaluated are trash; he is angry simply because the one evaluating them is Roman Dmitry.
Hendrick and himself.
Setting aside their relationship, this was a completely separate matter.
Clack.
Roman picked up one of the swords scattered on the floor.
Then, he walked outside and held the blade up to the sunlight.
"I do not fail to understand your anger, Master Hendrick. However, this sword was crafted with such uneven force that simply holding it up to the sunlight reveals shadows on the blade. It is likely the result of an inexperienced blacksmith doing a terrible job with the hammer. Therefore, this cannot be called Dmitry steel. Since you cannot deny this fact either, Master Hendrick, isn't that why you chose to attack my character instead of defending the quality of these 'trash' items?"
"What on earth—!"
"Master Hendrick."
Roman cut him off.
He swung the sword through the air a few times, then looked at Hendrick with a cold, hardened expression.
"Picture this. One of my soldiers dies because he couldn't cut through the enemy's flesh with this trash of a sword. The uneven edge fails to slice cleanly, and the soldier, unable to pull his sword free from the muscle it is lodged in, gets his head taken off by the enemy's blade while frozen in panic. How unjust would that be? He did his absolute best to survive, but he had no choice but to die because his trash of a lord gave him trash."
Clatter!
He deliberately tossed the sword aside.
This time, he picked up a piece of armor and held it up for Hendrick to see.
"Why do you think people wear armor, Master Hendrick? If it can protect a body from an enemy's attack even once, it is worth enduring its heavy weight. However, what if the soldier who wore this chainmail was betrayed by the very armor he trusted, and was killed? He believed the tightly interwoven iron rings would protect his body, but this experimental piece made by some nameless blacksmith failed to block the enemy's strike. It was pierced, his flesh was torn open, and his entrails spilled out through the gaps in the links."
"What in the world are you talking about?!"
"Do you still not understand what I am saying?"
People's prejudices?
He understood them.
He was well aware that because the original owner of this body had lived like trash, he had to endure those prejudices.
But.
Hendrick had crossed the line.
Blinded by personal feelings, the blacksmith did not realize what he had actually done.
"I asked you, Master Hendrick, for weapons and armor to equip my soldiers. If I hadn't recognized that the equipment scattered on this floor was trash, the soldiers who follow me might have entrusted their lives to it without knowing any better. This is not a matter of petty personal retaliation. The lives of thirty men were at stake, and despite knowing that, you turned a blind eye to the truth. Can you truly call yourself a Master Blacksmith, an artisan representing Dmitry, with pride? Because of the garbage you handed over out of personal spite toward me, innocent people almost died!"
"...!"
Hendrick was flustered.
Roman's words...
They were entirely correct.
But Hendrick hadn't thought that far ahead.
He simply hadn't wanted to give Roman anything good; he hadn't considered that soldiers might die because of it.
"I—I had no such intention!"
"Intentions do not matter. Weapons and armor have a clear purpose, and anyone can foresee the consequences of handing out this kind of trash. That is why I did not make the request in the name of Roman Dmitry, but in the name of my father, Baron Romero. I asked for the best possible weapons and armor. And the result is this pile of trash before our eyes."
Thud.
Clatter.
He kicked the ironware scattered on the floor.
As the iron pieces collapsed in a heap, Hendrick finally realized the gravity of the mistake he had made.
"Should I take this action as insubordination against my father?"
Insubordination.
For a moment, Hendrick felt his mind go blank.
This was the line Roman had drawn.
Hendrick's attitude itself wasn't the issue.
Although the Master Blacksmith held a position of enough power to treat the eldest son of the Dmitry family with disdain, the moment he handed over 'trash' to someone who had come with Baron Romero's authority, Roman considered that Hendrick had crossed the line.
Roman respected Hendrick.
He was a diligent worker, and considering his future in the family, Roman needed to maintain a favorable relationship with him.
But.
"I know what you think of me, Master Hendrick. I believe you had no intention of defying my father, but simply did not want to give me good equipment. The problem is that doing so is, in itself, an act of insubordination. Master Hendrick, I came to you with my father's permission. This was not a personal request; the lord of this land ordered you to provide high-quality weapons and armor for me."
The Heavenly Demon.
Baek Joong-hyuk had lived his entire life as a ruler.
Having ruled over all kinds of people, he had strictly adhered to one single principle in any situation.
Hierarchy. The moment the line between lord and subject becomes blurred, the order of that relationship collapses.
Even with a loyal subject, or a subject who was like a friend—the moment they crossed the line, Baek Joong-hyuk would hand down strict punishment with a cold face.
It was no different now.
Even though he knew how important Hendrick was, the moment the man crossed the line, Roman forced him to face reality.
Thus far.
Roman thoroughly put Hendrick in his place.
"I will ask you once more. May I take your actions toward me as insubordination against my father?"
"...Insubordination! That is absolutely not true!"
Hendrick cried out in desperation.
Master Blacksmith.
He had worked for decades to earn that title.
Before Baron Romero became the lord of Dmitry, he had been Hendrick's friend, and they had once shared a burning passion in front of the furnace's flames. Hendrick respected Baron Romero as an artisan. Although Romero could no longer visit the forge often due to his duties as a noble, he was still the finest artisan in Cairo in Hendrick's eyes.
Because of that, Hendrick had sworn his loyalty.
He believed that Baron Romero, who truly understood and cared for blacksmiths, was someone worthy of his absolute loyalty.
It was then.
Drawn by Roman's raised voice, the surrounding blacksmiths began to gather.
At first, they didn't understand what was happening, but as Roman continued to speak, their expressions turned grim.
"If it is not insubordination, then explain yourself. Why on earth did you give me this kind of garbage?"
"This bastard..."
"How dare you speak to Master Hendrick like that!"
The blacksmiths flared up in anger.
To see a green young brat pressuring Hendrick...
Their fury erupted.
The blacksmiths looked ready to pounce at any moment.
As over a dozen burly, muscular men surrounded Roman, the atmosphere grew incredibly tense, as if violence could break out at any second. There was a saying: even vicious groups like Blood Fang did not mess with the blacksmiths of Dmitry. Since blacksmithing was a physically demanding job that involved handling weapons like swords, there had actually been cases where gangs picked fights with them only to have their entire organizations dismantled.
The situation was highly explosive.
Yet Roman remained perfectly calm.
He was neither flustered by the blacksmiths' threats, nor did he react defensively.
He simply looked at Hendrick.
Seeing him demand an answer, the blacksmiths' patience finally snapped.
"I don't know what's going on here, but we can't just stand by and watch the Fool of Dmitry dare to talk back to the Master!"
"Subdue him first!"
"Yes, sir!"
To them, Hendrick was absolute.
Just as the blacksmiths rushed forward all at once, Hendrick, who had remained silent, finally spoke.
"Stop!"
"...Master!"
"I said, stop."
Hendrick's expression hardened.
He could not comprehend the situation before him.
The Roman he remembered was different.
He had no eye for steel.
He lacked the guts to lecture him on hierarchy.
And he certainly didn't have the courage to stand tall and straight while being threatened by a crowd of angry blacksmiths.
Yet, the Roman before him was bold.
Even with the blacksmiths on the verge of lunging at him, Roman stood his ground without taking a single step back, staring directly at him.
One thing is certain.
Hendrick spoke.
"I am sorry. This matter was entirely my mistake."
Faced with the accusation of insubordination...
Hendrick had backed down.