Chapter 35: The Dwarven Forge of Greston

After a two-week journey, Ethan arrived at Greston.  

Gazing at the massive outer walls, he nodded.  

Impressive size.  

One of the cities under the Halaime County, it was three times larger than Poert.  

At the city gate, the guard captain’s eyes widened upon seeing Ethan’s identity plaque.  

In this world, only one family bore the golden flame emblem: the Ardan Ducal House.  

No one in the Hydern Kingdom would dare forge such an emblem, crafted with unmatched precision.  

The captain hurriedly bowed.  

“I greet the esteemed lord!”  

The Ardan Ducal House, once dubbed the Guardians of the Kingdom by the previous king, deserved the highest courtesy.  

“Don’t inform the city lord. I wish to visit quietly.”  

“Yes, I understand.”  

“And I’d like to procure a robe.”  

“Of course.”  

The captain quickly summoned a soldier, who returned with a high-quality black robe.  

“My thanks.”  

Ethan handed over a letter.  

“This is…”  

“Send it to the Kargas Barony.”  

“Yes! I’ll dispatch it via messenger bird as swiftly as possible.”  

Messenger birds, trained to deliver letters across regions, were far faster than human couriers.  

Ethan nodded and asked, “Is there a dwarven forge in this city?”  

“Yes. Are you looking to commission a crafting job?”  

“Indeed.”  

The captain’s eyes narrowed, as if deep in thought.  

“Is there a problem?”  

“Well… dwarves tend to overcharge first-time customers. I have a soldier familiar with the area. Shall I assign him to guide you?”  

Overcharge, huh?  

This could be interesting.  

Ethan nodded.  

“My thanks.”  

“Wait a moment.”  

A soldier soon came running, breathless.  

“I… I greet the Archduke! May I guide you through the city?”  

“Please do.”  

The inspection was swift, and now he had a guide.  

Wearing the black robe, Ethan followed the soldier.  

After about twenty minutes, they reached the [Crafting District].  

The air was thick with the smell of metal.  

And as expected, Ethan witnessed a peculiar sight upon entering.  

“Come, come! Pick a dwarven weapon! Cheap, cheap!”  

“Affordable, high-quality, durable! Visit the Blazing Furnace, certified by the Adventurers’ Guild!”  

Dwarves were swarming passersby, soliciting customers.  

The soldier beside Ethan grimaced and whispered, “Be cautious. These dwarves are the stingiest misers you’ll ever meet. Get dragged in by them on the street, and you’re guaranteed to get fleeced.”  

“Is it that bad?”  

“It’s just daily life here. See those shabby forges?”  

As the soldier said, the main street was lined with rundown forges.  

“The dwarves at the district’s entrance are practically hacks. They’re slightly better than human blacksmiths, but their prices are so outrageous you’d rather deal with a human for peace of mind.”  

I see.  

Ethan quietly marveled.  

Dwarves politely addressing passersby to attract customers?  

This was a first in his life.  

“Hey, you broke your armor again? What’s the point of being a swordsmanship prodigy if you keep wrecking your gear?!”  

“Crafting fee? Forget it—just bring lots of beer, and it’s free!”  

“Drink! Chug! Chug it down! Hahaha!”  

In all his years, not a single dwarf had spoken to him politely.  

They were creatures known for their rough, curse-laden speech.  

The world’s gone mad.  

There was no other way to explain this scene.  

Fortunately, no soliciting dwarves approached Ethan, likely because of the soldier beside him.  

A soldier would know the district well.  

Rather than target someone with a guide, they’d go for clueless newcomers.  

That’s why they left Ethan alone.  

Avoiding the outer district’s dwarves, Ethan and the soldier ventured deeper into the Crafting District.  

Unlike the shabby outer forges, the inner area was pristine, lined with sleek forges.  

Among them, one forge drew the largest crowd.  

[Flame Hammer Forge]  

The line was so long it’d take a whole day to get inside.  

“How about that one?”  

“Oh, that’s one of the high-end forges nobles and knights frequent. It’s the most renowned here. Shall we go there?”  

“Let’s do it.”  

“Wait a moment.”  

The soldier dashed off.  

Soon, a dwarf apprentice hurried over, panting.  

“Huff… huff… Are you… the Archduke of the Ardan Ducal House?”  

“That’s me.”  

“My apologies, but may I verify your identity plaque?”  

“Here.”  

Seeing the plaque, the dwarf bowed deeply with utmost respect.  

“This way, please.”  

Ethan gestured for the soldier to leave.  

“Do your best!”  

As the soldier exited the street, Ethan followed the apprentice to the front of the line.  

The attendants waiting in the scorching sun gaped.  

They were there on behalf of nobles or knights, enduring the heat to hold spots.  

Who is he?  

Even the third son of the Kimiron Viscountcy didn’t get in that fast!  

Dwarves were notorious misers, thoroughly indoctrinated by capitalism.  

No matter how close you were, they wouldn’t let you cut the line without proven status or wealth.  

For a dwarf to escort someone so courteously into the forge?  

This was no ordinary figure.  

Gulp.  

The attendants swallowed hard.  

No one dared block the robed figure striding forward.  

The crowd parted like a wave.  

Ethan entered the forge with the apprentice.  

“Head to the second floor.”  

“Alright.”  

On the second floor, a dwarf sat at prosper.  

Ethan glanced at the nameplate on the desk.  

[Poporens, External Director of the Greston Blacksmith Guild]  

Guilds, directors—such titles felt alien for a dwarf.  

Even now, it was a surreal sight.  

The dwarf greeted him with a beaming smile.  

“Well, well! Welcome! Did someone refer you to our forge?”  

“Chechemora.”  

“Chechemora, got it. What are you here to craft?”  

“A greatsword.”  

“What metal will you use?”  

Ethan produced the nephrion.  

The blacksmith’s eyes sparkled.  

Despite handling countless metals, this was a first.  

Still, he instinctively knew how to work it.  

“High affinity for mana and attributes, huh? It won’t melt easily… We’ll need magical solvents and high-pressure forging techniques.”  

To grasp the method just by looking at the metal spoke volumes of his skill.  

“How much?”  

“Hmm. Those techniques are costly… At least two hundred platinum coins.”  

“Two hundred?”  

Overcharging was one thing, but this was outright extortion.  

The actual cost of the process was likely under ten platinum coins.  

“The world’s changed a lot. Didn’t dwarves used to judge a client’s worthiness before crafting?”  

“That’s from when our ancestors lived in caves. Times have changed. Money buys nice houses, fine beer, and good food, so we’ve adapted.”  

The dwarf, wiping round glasses, glanced at the robed figure.  

The apprentice had prioritized him over all reservations, meaning…  

He’s loaded. Heh…  

Likely a young noble in his early twenties.  

Such a client would pay even an exorbitant price for pride’s sake.  

But things didn’t go as Poporens expected.  

The robed figure paused, as if reconsidering.  

If this client walked away, he’d lose a big fish.  

Poporens hurriedly continued, “If the price feels too steep, we can offer a discount based on your status.”  

“What’s the condition?”  

“Here.”  

Poporens handed over a sheet of paper.  

Ethan smirked at the title.  

[Status-Based Discounts]  

– Count’s Heir: -30%  

– Viscount’s Heir: -25%  

– Baron’s Heir: -10%  

“Why offer these?”  

“Discounts build connections. It’s an investment in future benefits.”  

“No discounts for counts or higher?”  

“Those folks usually visit forges in major cities or the capital. Are you perhaps a count’s heir or above?”  

“I am.”  

“Then we can offer an even better discount! Heh. May I know your status…?”  

Ethan showed his identity plaque.  

Poporens’ eyes nearly popped out.  

My gods!  

An heir of the Ardan Ducal House!  

An unimaginable VIP.  

“You’re… the Archduke?”  

“Correct.”  

“I’ll do it for free!”  

“Is that alright?”  

At that moment, Poporens thought of a colleague.  

Williams, a dwarf of similar skill who supplied arms to the royal family.  

Every time they spoke, Poporens’ pride stung from merely serving noble heirs.  

Money was enough to live on, but his wounded pride never recovered.  

But the Ardan Ducal House?  

A family revered above even the royal family by the common folk.  

Crafting a greatsword for the Archduke?  

That’ll flatten Williams’ nose!  

The decision was instant.  

“Yes! Free of charge! Just… heh, allow us to engrave the Flame Hammer Forge mark near the hilt.”  

“Fine.”  

A small mark wouldn’t affect the sword’s use.  

Ethan nodded readily.  

“Thank you! While we’re at it, I’ll craft a set of armor for you, free of charge!”  

At that moment, Ethan felt a twinge of suspicion.  

The soldier had called dwarves money-grubbing capitalists.  

They’d already mentioned a mark on the sword’s hilt.  

A whole armor set for free?  

Unlikely.  

He asked casually, “Will you engrave a mark on the armor too?”  

“Well, uh…”  

“Where, and how large?”  

“On the armor, about… this big…”  

The dwarf spread his hands, forming a large circle.  

It was practically turning the armor into a billboard.  

“Just make the greatsword well.”  

Poporens’ face fell, visibly disappointed.