Chapter 28
“I… I pledge my service to you.”
The other clan members followed the woman’s lead, striking a similar pose of respect.
Islin.
That name—I had never seen it in the novel.
If it had shown up even once, it would at least sound familiar, but this was the first time I’d ever heard it.
It ended more easily than I expected.
I thought I’d have to make an example of the strongest one here and beat them down.
Honestly, if it came to that, I’d lose.
That’s the difference in rank. Maybe this result is better.
I drew my sword and held it to Islin’s neck.
Her subordinates flinched at the sight, but since their leader didn’t react, none of them dared move rashly.
This was the ritual from “Conquering the World by Rank Power!”
It was a ceremony to erase past deeds and accept them as my own subordinates.
I thought she was just a decent mage, but she knows the ritual too? She’s more than she seems…
I racked my brain, wondering if I’d overlooked something in the novel, but the name “Islin” never came up.
Well. The world’s wide. There are plenty of talented people who never got mentioned in the novel.
Even if the novel is full of small details, it can’t cover every single extra, unless it ran for tens of thousands of chapters.
I dismissed the thought and pressed my sword on her shoulder.
“From today, you belong to the Ian Clan.”
“Master? Who is this…?”
Irene tilted her head at the sight of the new woman.
“Oh, this is Islin. She’s a new attendant. Greet her.”
“…Hello.”
Islin bowed awkwardly.
Islin—until just recently, she had been the vice-master of the Geo Clan, a rank 4 mage, and the woman who once threatened me with an Ice Blade.
Now, the Geo Clan had safely come under my control.
Most of their key people had been wiped out by the corpse explosion, but they were still a thief clan with ties to both the Karadin Kingdom and the Isother Kingdom.
Even just using the intelligence network they had built would be very useful.
Thanks to that, I gained a decent profit.
Islin whispered to me, uneasy.
“Are you serious? You want me to work here as a maid?”
“Why not? You still need to move back and forth and report to me, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, but still…”
“You don’t like it? Then should I do it myself?”
“N-no…”
Not that she had much choice. She had already pledged loyalty to me.
If she refused, the only fate left was being hunted down and killed by the United Kingdoms.
“Really? Then… that makes her my junior?”
“Th-that’s…!”
“That’s right. She’ll have other duties for me, but if I’m busy, she’ll help with chores too. Right, Islin?”
“…Yes.”
“Haha! Thank you so much! I was wishing I had a junior!”
Irene jumped around in delight.
Meanwhile, Islin looked like she wanted to die.
She had been vice-master of a thief clan, and now she was reduced to being the junior of a girl nearly ten years younger than her.
“Then! Can I dress her in something comfortable?”
Irene’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she asked for permission.
“Of course.”
“Thank you! Come, junior! This way!”
“W-wait…”
Irene dragged Islin away.
Before long, Islin returned wearing a maid outfit identical to Irene’s—black with frills, cute and girlish.
“Is it too small?”
“…Yes.”
Still, dressed like that, she really did look like an attendant.
She was in her mid-twenties—just the right age.
Her figure, usually hidden under a thick robe, was partly revealed, and it suited her surprisingly well.
“I’ll have one made larger later! Just bear with it for now, junior!”
“…Yes, senior.”
Pfft!
I couldn’t help bursting into laughter, and Islin glared at me with narrowed eyes.
“It suits you well.”
That’s what you get for throwing an Ice Blade at me.
“….”
“Irene, she’ll be working hard alongside you from now on. Teach her well, alright?”
“Yes!”
And so Islin spent her time running errands under her new “senior.”
“Anyway.”
Thanks to absorbing the Geo Clan, I learned a lot of new information.
First, the black mage behind the corpse explosion—his name was Romulu.
In the past, he had earned infamy in the Count Venere’s territory for his black magic.
It was said he was captured and executed by Venere’s guards, but in truth, it seemed Venere had hidden him away in his domain.
Probably to use him later when needed.
“A vile bastard, that one.”
To hide a black mage who had slaughtered his own people—Venere was a madman who would stop at nothing for his ambition.
And there was one more thing.
This morning, I got word that several of Venere’s elite soldiers had left in disguise, rushing somewhere.
Judging by their appearance, they were urgently searching for something.
If Venere is searching so desperately…
I caught a whiff of opportunity.
I had assumed Romulu was under Venere’s control, and had been wondering how to take him. But now, it was clear—Romulu had escaped.
A rank 4 black mage running loose was terrifying… but for me, it was good news.
Catching a runaway is easier than stealing one out of Venere’s hands.
“The question is… where do I find him?”
Unfortunately, Romulu was never mentioned in the novel.
A rank 4 black mage… In the story, they were treated like minor mobs.
But for me right now, they were far too powerful.
“Ugh…”
So the next issue—if I do find Romulu, could I even beat him?
And if Venere’s soldiers join him?
Considering Venere brought Friana during the duel trial, he probably didn’t have a rank 5 monster under his command.
But a rank 4 mage? That was well within his reach.
Later, he even led a strange knight order.
If it were Islin, she might manage somehow, but with my current rank, I was still lacking.
“So damn weak.”
Does being weak mean it’s over? Of course not.
If I can’t handle them, I’ll weaken the enemy—or I’ll grow stronger.
If not through rank, then through gear.
“Time to get some equipment.”
Ever since Harun came to the Impera territory, Aemon had been preparing a workshop for him.
The location was the back garden of the lord’s manor. Though, in truth, it was more like abandoned land.
Aemon had insisted: “How could we let a dwarf craftsman work in the open fields?!”
Clang—!
“So noisy.”
In the garden, Aemon and Harun were busy setting up workshop facilities.
Thud…! Thud…!
Not only locals but also Harun’s mana-core golems were helping.
Thanks to that, even though it had only been three days since construction started, the workshop was already taking shape.
A furnace was built, along with channels for cooling.
“Oh! Ian, my dearest friend!”
Harun, hammering away, greeted me warmly as soon as he saw me.
“You’re here, son.”
“Yes, Father. I just came for some fresh air. May I look around?”
“Of course. I don’t know if it’ll meet the craftsman’s standards, but we worked hard to prepare.”
“Haha! What are you saying! Just holding a hammer like this is joy enough for me!”
So there’s no such thing as ‘good enough’ for him, huh.
Well, he had once been heir to the Kingdom of Zeigelond. No workshop here could fully satisfy him.
Still, we’ll keep improving it over time.
With Harun here, profits would continue to grow.
We couldn’t pay off Ian’s debts instantly, but eventually, we’d find breathing room.
“Hm.”
In the corner of the workshop stood both a mana-core furnace and a regular furnace.
“You’re using both?”
“Yes. This mana-core furnace is a bit weak since it was made in haste. One alone won’t be enough to heat ingots properly.”
“I see.”
I had come here hoping to ask for some kind of artifact. Should I leave instead?
“Kuhuhu! I see that look—you want to walk away with something, don’t you?”
“…Did it show that much?”
“Of course! Do you think I don’t know that look? My friend, if you ask me, how could I refuse? Hand me your sword!”
Harun hadn’t swung a proper hammer in decades. He must be itching to craft something—anything.
“Well then, let’s see what my friend can do.”
I handed him my sword with an inner grin.
It was an ordinary iron sword, sturdy but unremarkable.
“First, crank the furnace to full power!”
Whoosh!
Harun lit both furnaces and removed the sword’s hilt, tossing the blade into the blazing fire.
Ssshhhhh!
The iron soon glowed red-hot, hissing with heat.
Harun laid it on the anvil and picked up a hammer.
Not the massive warhammer he once used to smash ghouls, but a short, heavy hammer perfect for forging metal.
Clang! Clang!
He began hammering down on the glowing blade.
Around his hammer, a crimson aura swirled.
It wasn’t mere heat.
It was the aura only a dwarf craftsman could unleash.
Just as knights exude Sword Aura, blacksmiths had their own—Craft Aura.
Armor struck with Craft Aura could transform even scrap iron into magical armor.
The craftsman’s soul and mana were infused into the weapon, birthing an artifact.
Bang!
After countless strikes, the sword’s glow dimmed.
He reheated it in the furnace, hammered it again, reheated, hammered again—five cycles in all—before finally cooling it in water.
“…Hah! It’s been too long since I felt this heat!”
“Wow!”
Even Aemon and I held our breath watching the process.
When would we ever again see the royal heir of Zeigelond forging a blade?
When the blade finally cooled, Harun drew it from the water.
It looked nothing like before.
Along its surface, patterns like dragon scales shimmered with life.
“Normally, it’d take three more days of finishing work. But for now, this should suffice!”
He slid the sword back into its sheath and handed it to me.
The metal still radiated warmth.
“Whoa…”
All he did was heat and hammer it a few times.
Yet the ordinary sword was utterly transformed.
I gripped it and carefully infused mana.
At once, the blade seemed to drink in my mana and release aura.
But it wasn’t unpleasant.
Rather, it felt as though it only absorbed exactly what was needed, wasting nothing.
“This is… incredible.”
“Ha! Do you like it?”
“Amazing! How is this even possible? A magic sword that gauges its wielder’s burden…”
The words slipped out before I could stop myself.
I shouldn’t have said that.
After all, I was supposed to be nothing more than a drunken wastrel noble, not someone who could recognize a magic sword’s functions.
“What do you mean, son?”
Luckily, Aemon didn’t understand.
But Harun did.
One eyebrow twitched as if he sensed something odd.
“…You’re quite knowledgeable about swords, aren’t you?”
“…I just pick up bits here and there.”
“…I see. Let’s say that, then. Heh.”
Harun let it slide, as if doing me a favor. Thanks to him, Aemon dropped the matter too.
“Anyway, thank you. I won’t forget this favor.”
“Favor? If anything, I should be thanking you!”
“Still… a sword like this deserves a name.”
“Names are for the owner to give, don’t you think?”
“Then I’ll do that.”
I gazed at the blade.
The dragon-scale pattern suggested the name.
“The Dragon-Scale Sword. How about it?”
“Dragon-Scale Sword? What’s that mean?”
“A sword made from dragon scales. I read about it in an old book.”
“Khahaha! A fine name indeed!”
Compared to a real sword made of dragon scales, it was little more than a toothpick.
But if it sounds cool, that’s all that matters.
