Chapter 85
Several days passed after they decided to import Black Iron.
So far, there was no real progress.
Ariella felt she needed to change her way of thinking.
“Isn’t there a chance that our Demon Lord’s territory might still have an undiscovered Black Iron mine?”
She went first to Richmond.
“Metal-detection magic isn’t really my specialty.”
He shook his head, saying it was outside his field of study.
“Well, I think you’d have to ask a geologist for that kind of work~.”
Cecile also reacted the same way.
“My field is artifact-making, after all. If you just bring me Black Iron, I can handle everything after that. But what’s buried under the ground… that’s too much for me.”
Even Philly, who was always ready to do anything Ariella asked, couldn’t help much.
“I searched through the library’s old books, but I didn’t find any useful clues.”
Ariella patted the sulky fairy’s head.
“It’s fine. Not everything can be solved through old books.”
She had expected this result anyway.
“If this land had abundant rare minerals, we wouldn’t be living in such poverty right now.”
Even though the land was blessed by a dragon’s grace, it wasn’t realistic to expect normal dirt to suddenly turn into Black Iron.
Cecile, unable to watch Ariella worry too much, spoke up.
“Just buy it~! Don’t make everyone suffer over this.”
She was the type to speak frankly without worrying about rank.
And Ariella couldn’t help but agree.
Soon, another meeting was held. Once again, a dwarf from the southern merchant guild attended.
He reported the results of his inquiries.
“We reached out to the Black Iron mines we’ve traded with before.”
“You didn’t mention that the buyer is Ludwig’s Demon Lord territory, right?”
“Of course. We only hinted that a new buyer was looking to trade.”
Ever since dealing in slime mixtures and herbs from the Fairy Forest, this dwarf had been extremely polite.
He even bent over backward to meet their requests.
The sweet taste of exclusive trade had already captured him.
“In conclusion, supply is possible. But the problem is the timing. It will be very late.”
“Late? How late?”
The dwarf looked troubled.
“Most of the mine owners said the same thing. Their production has already been fully reserved for the next ten years.”
“Ten years?!”
Ariella felt a headache coming on.
“So… all their orders are already booked in advance.”
“Yes. Black Iron mines are so limited that demand is always high…”
Whenever a Demon Lord’s territory became stable enough to survive, the first thing they aimed for was military strength.
To avoid being crushed by neighboring Demon Lords, they raced in an arms competition.
Because of that, the mining industry was always booming.
“We can’t wait ten years.”
Ariella spoke firmly. There was no room for discussion.
Right now, she was only buying time against Delac’s Demon Lord territory.
Helene, who had returned there, was helping in many ways—but even so, Ariella guessed they had at most one year.
‘That madman’s patience won’t last forever.’
For now, both sides were stalling each other with the excuse of a massive tunnel construction project.
Neither side would ever finish it—or even break ground on it—yet both continued preparing as if it were real.
They adjusted contract terms, exchanged documents, and even held site inspections.
It looked exactly like a real project.
‘In real life, even construction projects take this much time just to prepare.’
But if they delayed endlessly, Delac would surely make a move.
At the very least, he’d demand a meeting before signing the contract.
‘Before then, I need to prepare enough to face Delac.’
Then Ludwig spoke up.
“There’s only one real solution.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll sneak into his Demon Lord’s territory and slice Delac’s neck. Then there won’t even be a war. I’ll do it so no one—neither rat nor bird—ever finds out.”
“Wow. So you want to become a slave without anyone noticing?”
It was the same reckless idea Ludwig had mentioned back during the Fedwick issue.
“That’s exactly what Delac wants. For Ludwig to walk into his land alone without soldiers. And if you get caught?”
“Hmmm.”
Silence fell over the meeting room again.
Everyone thought hard, but no clear plan appeared.
They couldn’t mine Black Iron in their own land.
The southern merchants couldn’t deliver it on time.
Where could they get Black Iron?
And even if they did, how could they transport it across those narrow, steep mountain paths?
Just then—
Snip, snip!
A strange sound, unfitting for a meeting, echoed in the room.
Everyone turned toward it.
It was Ulken. He had taken out a small pocket knife—smaller than a dagger but longer than a toothpick—and was trimming his claws.
Richmond was the first to scold him.
“Ulken! What on earth are you doing in a meeting? I told you before—cut your claws in your own room!”
Richmond was surprisingly neat and tidy for a necromancer who dealt with rotting corpses.
Ulken replied with a blank face.
“But if I cut them in my room, the clippings might fall on the floor. Sometimes I step on them, and it hurts. My claws are harder than most metals, you know.”
“Then clean your room! Or ask the servants to do it!”
“I don’t like anyone entering my room.”
“Then clean it yourself!”
“If I had the time to clean my room, do you think it would look the way it does?”
Ariella didn’t even want to imagine what the inside of that werewolf’s room looked like.
She quickly stepped in.
“Save your small talk for later. Ulken, your claws are very sharp and strong. What if a servant gets hurt cleaning the meeting room?”
“Oh? I didn’t think of that.”
At that moment—
“Wait a second!”
Cecile suddenly spoke up. Her eyes were locked on the pocket knife in Ulken’s hand.
“Let me see that knife!”
“This? Why do you want a dirty claw-trimmer someone else used?”
Richmond groaned in disgust.
“You know it’s dirty, yet you still—!”
Ignoring him, Ulken handed the knife over.
Cecile snatched it quickly and examined it closely.
When she muttered to herself, Ariella finally understood why she was so interested.
“Black Iron? But its strength feels much higher than usual…”
Wait. Now that she thought about it—
Everyone knew how hard Ulken’s claws were. Stronger than normal steel.
That was why he rarely needed weapons.
And sharp—so sharp he had once sliced open a Dead Eater’s stomach in a single strike. Ariella still remembered the sight clearly.
‘Yet this little knife cut through those claws? That easily?’
Ariella’s face changed.
“Let me see it too!”
She studied the black blade closely.
Then the dwarf and Geru both reached out.
“I’d like to check as well!”
“M-me too!”
Soon, the executives of the Demon Lord’s territory were all passing around Ulken’s claw-knife like curious children.
Only Ludwig and Richmond refused to touch it, saying it was disgusting.
“It’s small, but the quality is incredible.”
“Is it just high purity?”
Cecile shook her head.
“No. Our Demon Lord’s black-iron weapons are already good quality. Purity depends not only on the ore but also on the smelting process.”
Her eyes sparkled.
“But this seems different from the start. The ore itself is not ordinary Black Iron—it’s similar, but feels like a different mineral.”
She injected some magic power into the knife.
It was a simple test, but the result came instantly.
“The magic conduction is even better than normal Black Iron!”
“I’ve never seen anything like this—even in my active years!” Geru gasped.
The dwarf quickly asked Ulken.
“Where did you get this knife?”
“This? Hmm…” Ulken scratched his beard, trying to recall.
“Before I came to Ludwig’s territory… I think I won it in a drinking bet at some tavern.”
He named a Demon Lord’s territory.
But both the dwarf and Geru shook their heads.
“That region has no Black Iron mines. And nothing nearby produces ore of this quality.”
“Then what about the original owner of the knife? What kind of demon was he?”
“The guy I beat? He was a demon, sure. Pretty tough too. We drank two whole wagons of wine each.”
That didn’t help.
Every demon Ariella had met so far could drink endlessly.
Wine alone rarely got them drunk—they usually complained about getting too full before that.
Though… two wagons was still impressive.
“Any other details? Like, three horns? Or maybe a nose hanging down past his chin?”
“Hmm. A feature…”
Ulken thought for a while, then snapped his fingers.
“Oh, right! I remember now!”
“What was it?”
“His accent was strange.”
“Accent?”
“Yeah. He spoke the common demon language, but the pronunciation was stiff. And he shortened words in a weird way.”
Ulken mimicked the way the demon had spoken.
At that moment—
“Wait a minute!”
“That accent—!”
The dwarf and Geru looked at each other, exchanging glances.
Finally, the dwarf nodded and said:
“I think I know where he was from.”
