Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 169

Chapter 169: Improving the equipment Chapter 169: Improving the equipment Alpheo strode purposefully through the bustling streets of Yarzat, his small frame passing through the sea of market stalls and merchants peddling their goods.

Around him, the city thrummed with life-voices raised in haggling.

But despite the lively chaos surrounding him, Alpheo remained focused.

Flanking him were twenty of his closest guards, their presence an imposing wall of steel that kept the curious at bay.

Among them, at the head of the contingent, was Vrosk-the man who had saved Alpheo’s life during his fierce battle with Arkawatt.

Vrosk, a hulking figure with a scar tracing the side of his jaw, walked with the confidence of a man who knew his worth.

After the attempt on his life during the siege of Confluendi , Alpheo had swiftly promoted him to the head of his personal guard based on previous achievements,as he seriously started to consider his safety.

The near brush with death had been a sobering reminder that his life-and the future of his newfound rule-could be taken in an instant if he wasn’t vigilant.

And so, Vrosk’s promotion was more than just a reward; it was a necessity.

The man was loyal and relentless,both traits Alpheo valued above all else in those entrusted with his protection.

Jarza, Egil, and Asag were all stationed in Confluendi, tasked with overseeing the camps of refugees that had swollen after the recent conflicts.

Their absence left a palpable void, one Alpheo felt keenly as he no one to joke the way he did with them.

Meanwhile, Laedio remained in Yarzat, keeping command over the city’s garrison.

The trust Alpheo placed in him was well-earned; Laedio had proven himself capable of holding the city together while Alpheo dealt with other matters during his early campaigns while also mantaining order within the city .  Clio, his ever-watchful overseer, had been dispatched to the workhouses where the production of soap and hard cider was well underway.

Alpheo knew the potential that lay in these products; they were Yarzat’s lifeblood, something that could stabilize their economy and increase their influence.  Unfortunately Alpheo could not call any of them, just for a small business stroll inside the city.As one was the head of the garrison of the city , while the other was the one overseeing the gold mine under his thumb.

As they walked through the crowded streets, Vrosk, ever watchful at Alpheo’s side, leaned in slightly.

His voice was low but direct.

“What exactly are we doing, captain ?” Alpheo glanced around the bustling market before turning his attention back to Vrosk.

“We’re looking for a blacksmith.

There’s a commission I need to discuss with them.” Vrosk raised an eyebrow, his skepticism clear.

“Couldn’t you have sent someone to deliver the message?

After all, you’re to be a prince soon .

Matters like these are beneath you.” Alpheo let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

“If it were just a message, perhaps.

But this is something I need to handle personally.

It’s better if I show them the plans myself and explain clearly what I want .

This commission requires precision, and I won’t risk any misunderstanding through secondhand instructions, I prefer dealing with such things by myself.” Vrosk nodded but remained slightly unconvinced.

“I understand, but you still expose yourself.

A prince walking through the streets for a blacksmith… it’ll raise eyebrows in the court.” Alpheo’s eyes flicked to Vrosk with a faint smile.

“Let them wonder.

They’ll learn soon enough why I do things my way.” Alpheo came to a halt in front of a modest but sturdy-looking building.

The blacksmith’s shop was nestled between a row of other small workshops, its stone facade darkened by years of heat and soot.

A heavy wooden sign hung above the door, depicting a hammer and anvil in simple, worn carving.

The clang of metal echoed faintly from within, accompanied by the sharp hiss of cooling steel.

Alpheo pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The scent of burning coals and molten metal hit him immediately, along with a wave of heat from the forge.

The interior was dim, lit mainly by the flickering orange glow from the forge at the far end of the room.

Various tools and weapons lined the walls-swords, hammers, and horseshoes hung in organized rows.

The blacksmith, a burly man with muscular arms covered in soot and scars, paused his work, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed Alpheo and the group of guards behind him.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, straightening up as he regarded the unexpected visitor as he clearly saw the ornate clothes the young man was wearing and the equipment of the men flanking him .

As such it was no wonder that the blacksmith though he was dealing with someone of importance.  As Alpheo stepped further into the shop, the rhythm of work among the blacksmith’s apprentices faltered.

The steady clang of hammers on metal stilled, and the sound of tools scraping against armor ceased.

A few of the younger workers paused, their eyes wide as they took in the fine fabric of Alpheo’s rich garments, clearly out of place in the soot-covered workshop.

Which caused the young disciples to gape openly, their hands hovering hesitantly over their unfinished tasks.

Before the silence could stretch any further, the blacksmith himself stepped forward, his voice booming with irritation.

“Oi!

Don’t just stand there like statues!” he barked, his tone sharp.

“Back to work, all of you!

Now!” The apprentices jumped at his command, their tools immediately springing back to life, and the clang of hammers quickly filled the air once again.

Some stole quick glances at Alpheo between strikes, still curious but now keeping their focus on their tasks.

The blacksmith turned back to Alpheo, wiping his hands on his apron once more.

His stern demeanor softened into something more respectful as he bowed his head slightly.

“Forgive them, m-my lord” he said, straightening as now that he had a closer look, he realized that the young man in front of him was the same man that led the thousands of men inside the city and the one set to become the consort of their princess..

“Not every day we get a visit from someone of your station.

To what do I owe the honor?” Alpheo smiled, appreciating the man’s directness.

“I have a commission,” he said, his tone deliberate “One that I trust you’ll handle with the utmost care.” The blacksmith squinted at the parchment, running his calloused fingers over the intricate lines of the design.

His lips moved in a quiet murmur as he deciphered the details.

“An axe…

but with a longer end here, like a spear,” he muttered, his finger tracing the extended shaft.

“And the backside…

a pickaxe?

Hmph, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Alpheo stood tall, watching the blacksmith’s reaction.

“For now, I need only a sample,” he said, his voice measured.

“If you manage to craft something that meets my expectations, then we’ll talk about a much larger commission.

You’ll have more work than you know what to do with and perhaps if you accomplish an especially satisfying work, such commission may not be the last I give you…” The blacksmith straightened up, realizing the weight of the offer.

He quickly bowed his head in respect, his earlier confidence tempered with newfound urgency.

“Of course, my lord.

It will be done.” Alpheo nodded, his expression remaining unreadable.

“You have three days to present the sample at the keep.

Tell the guards you were sent by Sir Alpheo, and they’ll let you through.” The blacksmith nodded again, his face showing a mixture of determination and anxiety.

“Three days, my lord.

I won’t disappoint.” Alpheo gave a slight nod, his gaze sweeping over the blacksmith and his workers.

“You may return to your work,” he said calmly, his voice cutting through the lingering tension in the air.

The blacksmith immediately turned, shouting orders at his apprentices to abandon the work they were doing and instead start a new one.

The rhythmic clanging of hammers on metal resumed soon as if Alpheo’s presence had been a brief disturbance in their world of heat and steel.

Without another word, Alpheo turned on his heel and made his way toward the exit, the hot, smoky air of the forge giving way to the cooler breeze of the streets outside.

Vrosk and the guards followed, flanking him closely as they left the blacksmith behind, the weight of his request still hanging in the air.

As they walked away from the forge, Vrosk stepped forward, his curiosity piqued.

“What was that thing about?” he asked, his gruff voice barely above the hum of the busy streets.

Alpheo turned slightly, glancing back at him with a small, knowing smile.

“A new weapon,” he replied, his tone casual “It’s a combination of the best features-an axe for brutal close-quarters combat and a spear for reach.

And with the back end shaped like a pick, it can be devastating against armor.” He paused, letting the idea settle before continuing.

“I plan to issue it to some of our men.

It will increase the shock strength of their charge.

Imagine the damage they can do, hitting like a hammer and with the thrust-reach of a spear.” He looked ahead as if already envisioning the chaos such a weapon could unleash on the battlefield.