Lord Of High Manor

The old town market quarter of Ves-Dinas. From the streets of food where shops with smoked pork legs hanging and bakeries with the smell of baking bread line up, to the streets of precious metals where noble ladies in expensive coats pass by, looking at the jewelry crafted from gems inside the glass windows with narrowed eyes and smiles. The streets of harnesses and bags with the scent of leather.

Among the streets of the market quarter, there is a place that, while not the widest, is always filled with the footsteps of adventurers in various attires. The smithy quarter. The voices of adventurers trying to haggle over prices and the shop owners can be heard, and the loud voice of a wandering weapon merchant, clashing two swords in his hands to attract customers, rings out.

In front of the streets and shops, there are adventurers who have completed requests from the adventurer's guild, a merchant's favor, or an old farmer's request, carrying pouches mixed with gold and silver coins in their bosoms, looking at the new weapons with throbbing hearts and anticipation.

Tardan's smithy. Among the many weapon shops on the street, it is not a shop that has been located on the street of Ves-Dinas for a very long time.

The owner, Tardan, until recently, was a wandering weapon merchant who loaded his goods on a small cart and traveled between cities and villages, selling various weapons and armor such as swords, axes, helmets, half-plate armor, gauntlets, and arm guards.

Tardan had been trading while wandering for a long time. It was only when the lifespan of his cart horse, an old companion who had traveled with him to many cities for business, was coming to an end that he finally had enough money to settle in a city and acquire a shop.

Thus, with trembling hands, he received the deed acknowledging the ownership of the shop, which is now Tardan's weapon shop.

A new shop with a roof. The fact that he no longer had to travel in the rain or drive a cart with sleepy eyes was overwhelming. However, the fatal flaw of his shop came into his view so quickly that the time to enjoy his joy felt extremely short.

The structure of the shop, with a narrow width for the entrance facing the street and a vertically long interior, was the problem. Blinded by the too good price, it was only after holding the deed and looking around inside the shop that such shortcomings came into view.

When potential customers passing by on the street walk past Tardan's smithy, what catches their eye is the narrow-looking entrance of the shop and the view inside the shop through the small window next to it. What can barely be seen by the passing customers are a few swords and helmets polished by rubbing with a piece of cloth soaked in oil hundreds of times, visible through that small window.

Even while walking around looking, in less than ten steps, within such a short time, the charm of the weapons displayed in the window by Tardan's skill was not enough to turn the customers' steps and draw them into the shop.

Still, there were some customers coming and going, so there was enough income to buy iron for making new swords or, after closing the shop at sunset, to sit in the corner of a regular tavern and eat warm food and good drinks. Also, the number of familiar faces visiting occasionally increased, and a life continued where dissatisfaction did not accumulate in making a living.

"Yawn.... It's getting cold."

Closing his mouth after yawning, Tardan, feeling the tears at the corners of his eyes cool as they touched the wind blowing through the open window, looked towards the window and said to himself.

Looking at the empty interior of the weapon shop, he recalled the recent rumor that they were looking for a blacksmith to make parts needed for building ships on Falia Island in front of the lighthouse at the eastern end of Ves-Dinas.

"Tsk... I guess I have to wake up early in the morning? To catch the boat to the shipyard..."

To go to the shipyard built on the island across the narrow Bass Strait, in front of the port at the eastern end of Ves-Dinas, one has to take a small boat that goes there every few hours. And since the work at the shipyard often starts before sunrise, he recalled someone sitting in the tavern recently saying that he had to wake up in the dark dawn before sunrise to catch the boat.

"Sigh... Damn. Do I really have to go? What if that adventurer friend who bought the longsword recently comes to sharpen the blade or to repair broken armor? He seemed to have bought it with some effort... Maybe I should have given him a discount on that longsword..."

Lifting two legs of the chair and leaning against the wall, Tardan recalled the appearance of the young adventurer customer who had bought a sword from him recently.

"Eh, tsk. It's not the time to worry about others. Who is worrying about whom?"

Clicking his tongue once, he returned the lifted chair legs to their place, making a bang on the floor, and stood up from the chair.

"I should at least do some cleaning!"

With a piece of cloth and a piece of sheepskin at his waist, Tardan heads to the back of the weapon shop.

Wiping off the dust accumulated on the display cases where swords, axes, and iron maces are stood, and polishing them with the inside of the sheepskin piece to prevent rust, the preparation for meeting future owners is complete.

"I made them quite well... Much better than the dwarves' stuff... Heh heh heh."

Looking at the armors and helmets that he had hammered for days to shape and create, Tardan smiled.

"If only one or two of these could be sold, I could buy some iron..."

A long sigh came out from Tardan's widely flared nostrils. With narrowed eyes, he carefully checked if there were any weapons that were rusty or not dusted.

The Grand Tournament that will be held soon. The time when customers looking for new weapons and armor flock in groups is just around the corner. Customers who look for new equipment to participate in the tournament, buy fancy armor intoxicated by victory, or look for new weapons blaming their defeat on their weapons, will overflow.

On Tardan's face, with such a peak season ahead, there was a look full of worry rather than joy.

-Pitter-patter. Tap. Tap-

An ominous sound reaches Tardan's ears. The smell of rain, like the scent of grass or earth, is in the air. Raindrops fall to the ground, breaking into smaller droplets and spreading the fragrance of rain.

"Ah... Oh no. Is it raining now..."

Sighing, Tardan stuck his head out the window to look at the street.

The streams of rain pouring from the sky increase. The sound of rain grows louder, and Tardan, leaning against the window, watches with a bitter expression as people scatter to various parts of the street to avoid the rain.

"When it rains... The taverns will do good business... For smithy like ours, maybe some customers will come in to avoid the rain..."

-Creak... Bang-

"Please fix this for me!"

"(Huh? A customer really came?) Welcome! Welcome to Tardan's smithy~."

With a refreshed expression and a brighter voice raised a notch, Tardan turned his body towards the door next to the window to greet the customer.

"This. Please fix this quickly!"

A Droko with red scales, who had walked vigorously and quickly across the narrow distance, making the wooden floor of the weapon shop resound, roughly took off his wet hood and said.

"Oh~. It seems urgent. Let's see... What is it that you want me to fix..."

Tardan said as he walked a few steps to see the object wrapped in an old cloth that the Droko had placed on the table.

Meanwhile, his gaze was briefly stolen by the black-haired woman who followed the small Droko into the shop.

Although only her lips and jawline were visible, the sight of her long arms and legs, and the calmness in her walking, strangely captivated Tardan's attention.

Unlike the Droko, the woman, who had entered the weapon shop without bothering to remove her hood dampened by raindrops, was walking behind the Droko, so Tardan thought she was part of the Droko's group.

"Hmm? Isn't this a spearhead? You broke the shaft..."

"That's right. I bought it recently."

"Yes? Recently? It looks like you've used it for 10 years? And very roughly at that..."

When the old cloth was removed, what appeared in Tardan's eyes was a spearhead wider than a normal spear. The tip was broken, and one side of the double-edged blade was almost gone, not just chipped, and the spear shaft below the blade was, of course, broken off, leaving only a very small part at the end.

"It's true! I was using it well until yesterday."

The Droko's expression, looking at Tardan with wide eyes as if to say there was no lie in his words, seemed to be telling the truth.

"Hmm... Then, this boar spear became like this because you did something today. What did you do with this boar spear?"

Tardan asked, lifting the spearhead and looking at the cracks on the blade.

"While catching a Nau... Naudau hermit crab..."

Perhaps frustrated by the hesitating Droko, the woman who had been walking around the weapon shop looking at the displayed swords turned towards Tardan and approached.

"It was a Nauian blue hermit crab."

"That's right. It happened while catching a Nauian blue hermit crab."

After a short sigh, the woman spoke the name of the hermit crab on behalf of the Droko.

"What? What kind of hermit crab did you catch to make the spear like this? I've never heard of that hermit crab before... It must be large, right?"

Tilting his head, various imaginations about the hermit crab he had never heard of passed through Tardan's mind.

Judging by their attire, they seemed to be adventurers, so he thought it wasn't an ordinary hermit crab they hunted, which is why he asked about its size.

"It's big. Much bigger than Master Iris here, a blue hermit crab."

"I see. Well, then you shouldn't attack such a large hermit crab with a spear. I don't know much about monsters, but if it's that big, its shell must be as hard as a rock containing iron ore."

Having heard the story of the spearhead that had deviated far from its original form, Tardan said to the Droko with a raised corner of his mouth.

"Well... Still, it was fine until the 17th one..."

"Yes? How... Is that possible."

Tardan was confused. He looked again at the spearhead placed on the table.

"Hmm..."

"(It's ordinary iron? No major flaws, but nothing outstanding either...) It was a mystery. At least, it was incomprehensible within the common sense that Tardan knew."

"Is the shell of that blue hermit crab softer than I thought? So, the spearhead somehow endured until the 17th one, and at the moment of the 18th, the shaft broke, and additionally, the blade broke? Too many questions arose in Tardan's mind."

"(Or, with this Droko customer's agile movements, he was skillfully attacking only the body of the hermit crab, avoiding the outer shell, and then by mistake...) Well, whatever the story is, my curiosity is not important. Speaking of the customer's spearhead, rather than repairing it, it would be better to melt down the remaining part and make a new one."

"Eek! Is that so."

"Yes. Moreover, the iron used to make this spearhead isn't that good. And since the shaft also needs to be newly acquired and fitted..."

"So, you mean it would be better to buy a new spear."

Iris, who had been listening to their conversation, said to Tardan.