Chapter 63

A withered old man places a candle mold frame into an iron bucket, filling it carefully with dirt.

He then presses the dirt down firmly so it doesn’t crumble or scatter.

After completing the mold, he places another iron bucket on top to create the casting frame, filling and pressing it again.

Carefully removing the outer mold and lifting off the inner frame…

The casting is complete.

Its center clearly takes the shape of a candlestick.

Since the design is complex, making these by hand would take far too much time – hence the experimentation with this method.

Next, the two casting molds are scorched over flames to leave a layer of soot.

Then they’re reassembled as one.

“Bring it here! Pour quickly!”

At the elder’s commanding shout, a burly youth comes running.

Holding long iron pincers in both hands…

Attached to them is an iron cup-sized container.

Carefully tipping it into the mold’s small hole, molten red-hot metal flows through the gap.

As the molten metal solidifies between the inner and outer molds into the desired form…

White smoke fills the small workshop.

Lifting off the casting frame and using tongs to extract the contents, the packed earth falls away, revealing a candlestick shaped like a long branch.

“Hmph.”

Without blinking, the old man examines it closely, rotating the tongs.

“Gold and silver can be painstakingly hand-carved, but for iron, this mass production method will work from now on, right? What do you think?”

“Grandfather is truly remarkable.”

“Do I have to take care of your futures too? Can’t you learn and figure things out yourselves?!”

The old man mutters disapprovingly.

“You there, young one – what about you?”

“Me?”

A black-haired boy dressed all in dark, except for his golden eyes that shine brightly in contrast.

Having quietly observed the entire process, Carriel tilts his head.

“What’s so interesting about working with metals? Don’t you get tired of it?”

“I want to understand the nature of earth, rocks, and metals.”

“Not being an alchemist yet chasing after such useless pursuits…”

The young one seems already fixated on strange interests.

While grumbling, the old man continues his endless stream of advice or sermons, which soon fade away.

“With enough molten metal, we could produce ten of these a day.”

To this, the old man’s grandson – the young man – replies hesitantly.

“And where exactly will we sell them, and where will we get all that iron?”

“That’s your problem, not mine. If you sell enough, maybe you’ll become some rich guy or magnate you keep calling out for. Am I wrong?!”

“Haha… well, that’s true.”

“At my age, if I don’t feel like handling iron anymore, you’ll have to use your brains! Your brains!”

For instance, though not a master craftsman, the old man was developing technology that allowed anyone to make something, just adequately enough.

Apparently, this was his hobby.

Though once a renowned craftsman, since the Demon King’s invasion ended and peace returned, he’d been making farming tools, convenience items, and occasionally jewelry.

“You’re quite unique yourself.”

“Why is that?”

“I thought for sure you’d come demanding I craft some legendary sword. But you really don’t seem interested in that at all.”

“Swords are consumables. What difference does a ‘legendary’ one make? Isn’t it rather problematic when people cherish and cling to something valuable, only to be unable to part with it when they should?”

“A remark that would make any proud knight explode in rage… but… you’re right.”

“Though it might be rude to the smith who made it… still better than causing deaths.”

The old man mutters under his breath.

“Anyway, planning to leave soon?”

“Yes. The ship I arranged is delayed, as is the guide.”

“Still sure you don’t need a sword?”

“Yes. Didn’t we agree already? You said you’d watch over me. I wanted to understand the nature of earth, rock, and metal.”

Additionally, through observing heat treatment and temperature control…

Never would’ve guessed watching metalwork could lead to such comprehensive insights.

Seems life rarely goes as planned or expected.

“Such an odd fellow.”

Paying just to watch – never seen someone quite like this.

If he were trying to steal techniques, it would’ve been impossible anyway.

…But he’d already proven he wasn’t that kind of person long ago.

A few more days passed.

Yesterday, they’d cast a candlestick from iron using that process.

Today, crafting candlesticks and teapots from silver entirely by hand kept him busy for three whole days.

A different approach when handling silver compared to iron.

Matter-of-factly explaining how the properties of silver differ from iron.

“This will fetch a high price, so we put in extra effort.”

Understand the client’s requirements well and design accordingly.

For greater precision, first make a simple wooden model to show before proceeding with manufacturing.

Accordingly, factor in the labor costs when setting the price.

Even making a cup isn’t just a simple hollow container – adding patterns and engravings raises the cost significantly.

If noble families or specific guilds/orgs provide their crests beforehand, even coloring isn’t entirely impossible.

That was the old man’s explanation.

Truly a master craftsman.

Not just any craftsman, but a master level one without question.

Despite his scruffy appearance, those rough and calloused hands could create anything given time and materials.

A recluse known to the world but unknown to most.

A master craftsman known only to those in the know.

“Boy, what exactly are you learning or realizing by watching me work?”

“Unnatural forms? Artificial beauty?”

“Crazy old man. You’ve gone completely mad.”

Laughing until his stomach hurts, the old man curses loudly.

“…”

In response, Carriel gives a wry smile, accepting the harmless criticism lightly.

This would be their last meeting.

“Maybe I’ll place orders sometime later.”

“Marry first. Don’t go wandering around getting killed. You look like the world’s ending or something.”

With that final farewell, Carriel left the village’s only workshop.

“Have you arrived?”

It had been a full week since coming here.

A small village near a valley, technically part of the empire but questionable if it even appears on maps due to its tiny size.

Its sole feature worth mentioning – a modest riverside docking area, not quite a proper pier.

Further downstream from this village lies Osmillan Valley connected to the continent’s center, leading to Amalang city under Bahamil Baron’s jurisdiction and Bishop’s domain.

Most travelers arriving from sea via river or vice versa dock there to handle most of their business.

Had Filbar not suggested this route, the original plan involved crossing Mount Brute and finding a calm spot to hire a small ferry or swim across as a last resort.

However…

Decided to follow Filbar’s advice considering efficiency, plus there were trading posts along the way.

Even if stopped for inspection, staying onboard avoids issues.

Should complications arise, Filbar had already provided alternate credentials, so no major problems expected.

“This friend should be here by now… shouldn’t be lost.”

Anyway,

Discussing disguises with Filbar, Carriel felt unnecessary for now.

Particularly since leaving the empire, whether located or not wouldn’t matter much.

Advised Filbar, a Knight of Glory and son of a hero, to avoid exposing his identity to prevent potential trouble.

…But that advice itself was meaningless.

Besides,

“My face isn’t that famous anyway.”

Just then,

Filbar promised to personally introduce the guide before departing, so he’d been stuck here for nearly a week.

During which he seemed constantly busy with pens and brushes.

The large covered carriage parked beside the inn was hard to miss.

Still, associating with nobility or influential figures often brings trouble, so most kept their distance.

Therefore,

Anyone openly approaching must have definite business with us.

“…”

First impression?

Small.

Face mostly hidden under a thick gray robe below the neck.

Significant weight judging by how it barely moves even in the wind.

Thud-thud.

The heavy footsteps suggest unusual footwear, likely reinforced boots.

Solid steel boots wouldn’t produce such sounds.

Soft purple short hair, like a diluted lavender hue.

Eyes almost white-silver, appearance relatively plain.

Depending on expression, could appear cute.

Clearly female based on facial features alone.

Yet colder than Carriel himself, giving an overall frigid first impression.

“Edenlevan Legion, Blood Sharing Family Peace Association, 2nd Prince Filsuubna. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. If you’re looking for him, you’ve found the right person. That’s me!”

2nd Prince.

Feels like an extremely high-ranking title by human standards, but among their kind, princes differ from humans and other races.

Referring to suitable bloodline descendants.

Though not truly immortal, their lifespan approaches it.

For them, preserving and protecting fundamental bloodlines holds utmost value.

And the initial purpose and mission given to that bloodline.

Judging by how well they fulfill, lead, and safeguard these values…

Each bloodline’s king or leader represents the group or organization.

Thus, 2nd Prince indicates a status and class reflecting good performance of such duties.

“Would like to confirm the commission details?”

“The request is to safely escort the VIP to their destination, providing protection and convenience. In unavoidable situations, offer adequate explanations and detours to both the VIP and commissioner.”

“Hmm, excellent.”

Clapping his hands, Filbar turns to Carriel.

“With this friend, we can travel discreetly to our intended destination.”

“…”

Carriel looks at the girl, shorter by about a head, then says,

“Please take care of me.”

“Younger, so use informal speech.”

“Anything longer than necessary is unpleasant.”

Coldly requests.

“He lacks social skills, but is exceptionally competent. Believe me, it’s true.”

Carriel nods.

“Don’t doubt.”

Simply,

Those frosty eyes felt somewhat pitiful.

Though pitying her would be disrespectful.

“Our transportation is already arranged. Follow instructions as needed. All requests fall within duty parameters, so comply unless genuinely inconvenient.”

“…”

Carriel agrees readily.

“Well then! I shall take my leave! Wishing you a pleasant and safe journey!”

The carriage kicks up dust departing from the village.

Watching it go briefly, the two remain.

“So, what now?”

Carriel asks.

She responds,

“We eat first.”

Huh?

“I haven’t eaten for two days. Absolutely fill up when arriving somewhere like this. Important rule.”

“…Alright.”

Thinking casual introductions might follow…

But watching her eat nonstop for two hours…

Couldn’t help but laugh.

After eating heartily,

Looking for gaps in conversation, she reveals her name.

“I’m Louilin. No surname. How should I address you?”

“…”

Carriel answers briefly.

“El.”

“That’s difficult to say. Too abrupt, unsuitable sound for quick communication during emergencies. Predicted tongue going to palate? Can’t you feel voice naturally pulled into throat?”

“…”

Opening mouth wide, showing tongue, momentarily speechless Carriel.

If you insist…

“Call me Leil.”

“Girl?”

“…”

“…”

Travel won’t be smooth, right?

Must be my imagination.

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