The Reincarnated Assassin is a Genius Swordsman 885

 Chapter 885

 

"…."

Karoon fixed Borgos with a cold glare, as though he found the dwarf’s words truly displeasing.

"That dwarf sure knows a thing or two."

Unlike Karoon, Balder drew a bright smile and nodded.

“My nephew here is loyal and has a bold, straightforward nature, you can really count on him! Sometimes I swear he’s even better than me or my brothers! Hey, dwarf! You picked the right side!”

He clapped his hands loudly, pointing out that Raon had many qualities that outshone those of the palace masters.

"Shut your mouth."

Karoon struck Balder’s waist, reminding him they were in the presence of the head of house.

"Why do you always tell me to be quiet? The audience chamber isn’t a library!"

Balder shook off the blow to his waist as if it were nothing, wrinkling his nose in protest.

"Ahem!"

Glenn cleared his throat and lowered his chin slightly.

"So you trust the Light Wind division leader that much?"

He narrowed his eyes as if pretending to be uncomfortable, with his mouth covered.

"Yes."

Borgos stepped beside Raon and nodded.

“Without even asking what the matter was, the Light Wind Division leader came to save this old man, all because we happened to meet once.”

He trembled his wrinkled lips, as though recalling the moment Raon ventured into the deepest part of the underground to save him.

"Dwarves do not easily befriend others, but once we do, our trust lasts a lifetime. This young man—no, this benefactor—has well earned that right."

Borgos pounded his left chest with his fist, saying he now owed a debt he could never repay.

"Chief! Well said!"

"We feel the same!"

"Just as Sir Raon risked his life for us, we, too, can stake our hammers for him!"

Palentun and the other blacksmiths shouted their agreement, thumping their own chests in unison.

"A lifelong trust…."

Karoon folded his arms, silent, as if he hadn’t expected Borgos to trust Raon this much.

"A friendship between dwarves and humans? Damn, that's amazing!"

Balder smacked his lips as if he had just downed a large glass of beer.

"Sir Borgos…."

Raon bit his lip slightly, watching Borgos stand tall with his chest puffed out.

'I didn't expect them to trust me this much.'

He naturally knew that Borgos and the blacksmiths of the Gray Hammer Guild were grateful to him.

However, since they each had something they wanted from each other, he thought it was somewhat of a business or transactional relationship, but he was very wrong.

Borgos and the blacksmiths truly regarded him only as a benefactor.

"Ah, so that's how it is."

Glenn's hands trembled slightly, and the tips of his ears turned red. Whatever emotion was bubbling up inside him, he seemed to be forcing it back down.

"If you had made a remark that disregarded Zieghart, you would have paid a fitting price, but this time, the situation is different."

Saying he would accept Borgos’ stance, Glenn lowered his gaze briefly before looking up again.

"Do as you wish. If you wish to become part of Zieghart, I will accept you. If you choose to leave, that too, will be your decision."

Glenn nodded, formally welcoming Borgos and the Gray Hammer Guild.

“Welcome, dwarves! Make my sword heavy but thin and flexible!”

Balder stomped his foot, describing exactly what sort of sword he wanted.

"Haaa…."

Karoon let out a long sigh and stretched his arm. His elbow swung heavily, striking Balder's waist.

"Urk…."

Balder had expected a light blow like before, but he was caught off guard by the force. His eyes rolled back as he collapsed backward.

"My apologies. He is not yet qualified to be an executive."

Karoon bowed politely to Borgos, telling him not to mind Balder.

'Hah….'

Raon let out a small, hollow chuckle at Karoon’s calm expression.

‘In the past, he would’ve been the first to make a scene before Balder.’

He never imagined a person could change so much.

After all, hearing Borgos say that he trusted Raon more than Zieghart itself would have normally enraged Karoon. Yet, he showed no sign of anger and instead remained courteous.
It must be because of his genuine love for Zieghart.

"No."

Borgos shook his head as he glanced at the unconscious Balder.

"To a blacksmith, working with dragon bones and scales is a dream come true. We can’t just make something random out of such precious materials. I plan to craft equipment that perfectly meets each user’s needs."

He brought his hands together, noting that because the materials were so valuable, having everything custom made—even if it took extra time—would be best.

“If you go with custom-made work, it won’t just take more time, it’ll also require a huge amount of work. Are you really okay with that?”

Glen let out a low sound of concern, as though worried about Borgos and his blacksmiths.

"Of course. It’s nothing compared to what our benefactor has done for us."

Borgos answered without hesitation, saying he would do even more if Raon wished.

“Besides, having everything custom made benefits us, too. After all, there’s no end to blacksmithing, just as there’s no end to swordsmanship.”

He nodded, explaining that this was also a chance for himself and the Gray Hammer Guild’s blacksmiths to continue honing their craft.

"If you insist, then I’ll gratefully accept."

Glenn slowly lowered his gaze in agreement.

“If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. We’ll provide whatever support we can.”

"A blacksmith only ever needs three things—a place to rest, fire, and a hammer."

Borgos drew a confident smile, saying that those three things were enough.

"A place to rest, fire, and a hammer…."

Karoon looked at Borgos with a faint smile. His subdued eyes seemed to reveal a slight sense of approval.

"All right. I will ensure you have everything you need. You’ve come a long way, so first take some time to rest."

Glenn nodded emphatically, seemingly pleased with Borgos’ personality.

“Rest sounds fine, but I’d rather get to work right away.”

Borgos firmly shook his head.

"Staying idle would only lead to bad thoughts. I want to get to work right away."

He bowed, insisting he didn't mind if preparations weren’t complete.

“…Sometimes losing yourself in work can be for the best.”

Glenn let out a brief sigh, as if he understood how Borgos felt.

“Very well. Light Wind division leader, please guide our guests to Mirtan, where Zieghart’s blacksmiths live.”

He lowered his voice, instructing Raon to escort Borgos and the dwarves to Mirtan.

"We will discuss the rest later."

"Understood."

Raon stepped back and bowed to Glenn.

“This way, please.”

After bidding farewell to Glenn, he exited the audience chamber with Borgos and the blacksmiths.

"To all executives, submit not only your own preferred weapon types but also those of the swordsmen under your command to the Shadow Agents."

From Glenn’s instructions, it was clear he intended to have custom weapons made for all Zieghart swordsmen.

"Ah, yes!"

"Understood!"

The executives left the audience chamber with bright smiles, delighted at the prospect of obtaining swords made from dragon bones, masterpieces crafted by dwarven blacksmiths.

"Head of house."

Once all the executives had gone, Karoon approached the raised platform where Glenn’s throne stood.

"Once again, the Light Wind Division leader has accomplished a great feat. I believe the reward should be what I previously proposed."

With that, he grabbed the unconscious Balder and dragged him out of the audience chamber.

"If it’s what he proposed before…."

Sheryl furrowed her brows as she watched Karoon leave.

"Is it about promoting Raon to palace master?"

"Most likely."

Roenn chuckled and nodded.

"Sir Karoon has insisted before that young master Raon should be promoted to palace master."

"He's changed a lot… but I can understand why."

Sheryl murmured in amazement, letting out a soft sigh.

"The Raon I saw this time… he's no longer the kid I once taught the twin blade technique. If anything, it felt more like I was traveling with a seasoned warrior even stronger and more skilled than I am."

She smiled, saying that he would be more than capable of leading a palace.

"Ahem!"

Glenn, as if no longer trying to suppress his emotion, lowered his hand and let a broad smile stretch across his face.

"He reminds me of him. That lazy elf really raised one disciple well."

Sheryl shrugged her shoulders as she looked at Glenn, who was smiling.

"It wasn’t because of him! Raon grew on his own!"

Glenn furrowed his brows, rejecting the idea that Rimmer had anything to do with Raon's growth.

"That’s true. He would have grown well anywhere."

Sheryl let out a short laugh and nodded. She recalled how they used to argue over whether the disciple or the grandson should come first, and it brought a smile to her face.

"No! If it weren’t for Zieghart, he wouldn’t have grown this much!"

Glenn shook his chin as if he wanted to hear that he grew up well because he was his grandson.

"You're right. He turned out this way because he's your grandson, head of house."

Sheryl sighed and nodded.

"Ahem!"

Glenn, as if finally satisfied, relaxed his expression and sank into his throne.

"But what will you do about the Central Martial Palace master’s suggestion?"

Sheryl lifted her gaze, as if curious about Glenn’s decision.

“Palace. Palace…”

Glenn slowly closed his eyes and then opened them again, gazing at the center of the audience chamber where Raon had stood.

“Yes. It seems the time has come.”

*   *   *

As soon as Raon left the lord’s manor, he led Borgos and the blacksmiths toward the village of Mirtan.

"The heat here is quite intense."

Borgos clicked his tongue, as if he could feel the geothermal heat warming his body just by walking.

"This doesn’t feel like the north at all."

He rubbed his thick hands together, saying he liked it. Both his personality and skills were fitting for a blacksmith of the continent.

“The heat grows stronger along this path. That mountain must be a volcano.”

Borgos’ apprentice nodded as he looked at the mountain behind Mirtan village.

"That’s right. There was even a Red Dragon Turtle living on that mountain."

Raon nodded, recalling the time when the Red Dragon Turtle had been absorbing the geothermal heat.

"Red Dragon Turtles love lava and geothermal heat. If it revealed itself just to absorb the warmth, then this place must be on par with the Bright Flame Mountain."

Borgos chuckled, murmuring that he was looking forward to the village of Vulcan

“Well, we’ve arrived.”

Raon raised his hand and pointed to the entrance of Mirtan village, a small yet solid-looking settlement.

Clang!

The moment they stepped in, the atmosphere shifted. A wave of heat, as if lava were flowing nearby, engulfed them, and the relentless sound of hammering echoed through the air.

“Hm…”

Borgos glanced at the workshops on the outskirts of the village, where the hammering sounds came from, and gave a small nod.

“They are still inexperienced, but I can feel their passion.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips, as if he liked the sound of the young blacksmiths’ hammer echoing from inside the workshop.

The dwarves and blacksmiths of the Gray Hammer Guild also seemed to be cheered up by the sounds of hammering heard from here and there, letting out smiles for the first time since leaving the Bright Flame Mountain.

‘They really are blacksmiths through and through.’

Seeing how the gloomy atmosphere lifted with just the sound of hammering, it was clear why they were called blacksmiths.

“Sir Vulcan is up there.”

Raon led the excited Borgos and the dwarves toward Vulcan’s workshop, which sat at the highest point of Mirtan. The blacksmiths, their emotions heightened by the hammering and the surrounding heat, quickened their pace with flushed cheeks.

‘Hm?’

Raon narrowed his eyes as he examined the inside of Vulcan’s workshop.

'Is someone else here?'

Besides Vulcan, he sensed another presence inside. Since they didn’t seem to be working, it should be fine to call out.

“Sir Vulcan.”

Raon knocked on the iron door while calling out Vulcan’s name.

Thud.

Before he could even exhale, the door swung open roughly, revealing Vulcan, his face flushed red as if he had been drinking.

"Raon! Why are you so late?!"

Vulcan scowled, complaining that Raon had sent word of his arrival but had taken too long to show up.

“Ah, my apologies. I got caught up in a few things on the way.”

Raon bowed his head, sincerely apologizing.

“You said you were bringing dragon bones, so I was looking forward to… huh?”

Vulcan clicked his tongue but then widened his eyes as he noticed Borgos standing behind Raon.

“Dwarf! What in the world are you doing here…?”

“Well, one thing led to another.”

Borgos let out a bitter smile, saying the story was too long to explain.

"Hmm, I see… Something must have happened."

Vulcan furrowed his brows, reading the look in Borgos’ eyes.

"Well, since I’ll be lodging here for a while, I suppose I should give you the short version."

Borgos nodded briefly and then recounted what had happened.

“Huh…”

Vulcan exhaled deeply, at a loss for words upon hearing the story.

"It’s all fine now, so you don’t need to make that face."

Borgos lowered his chin, telling him to treat him as he normally would.

“But…”

“I’ve seen plenty of your swords, but this is my first time seeing your workshop. For a blacksmith of the continent, it’s rather… small?”

Borgos glanced around Vulcan’s workshop, throwing in a joke to lighten the mood.

“The size of a workshop doesn’t matter to a blacksmith.”

But the response didn’t come from Vulcan. It came from deeper inside the workshop, a familiar voice. It was another blacksmith of the continent, Kuberad.

“Kuberad? You’re here too?”

This time, it was Borgos’s turn to widen his eyes in surprise.

"Just as you were called by Raon, I was called by this guy."

Kubered sighed deeply, explaining that he had come at Vulcan’s request.

“He pestered me so much that anyone would think he was still an active blacksmith.”

He shook his head, saying he had received ten letters a day.

"W-What do you mean ten letters?! It was only nine!"

Vulcan snorted, telling him to count properly.

“Well, enough chit-chat. Show me the materials already. I’m exhausted from dealing with this guy’s drunken rambling.”

Kuberad motioned with his chin that he was eager to get to work.

“Understood.”

Raon nodded lightly and called Dorian forward.

“Take everything out.”

"E-Everything? This place seems too small…"

Dorian hesitated, glancing around.

"If you spread it out along that road over there, it should be fine."

“Got it!”

Dorian nodded and reached into his belly pocket.

Rumble!

Bones, fangs, horns, and scales of dragons poured endlessly from Dorian’s hand. Because two of them had been ancient dragons, the bones were both enormous and numerous. Soon, Vulcan’s front yard and even the main street of Mirtan village were blanketed in a sea of dragon remains.

“All this …  You had this much?”

Borgos widened his eyes in disbelief.

“Red, black, golden? Three dragons?”

Kuberad’s jaw trembled in shock.

“It’s not just three dragons. Two of them are ancient dragons. Their bones are deeply infused with pure mana!”

Vulcan’s eyes sparkled with excitement just from looking at them.

“The Zieghart swordsmen will soon send in their requests. There are more than enough materials. Please, create the finest masterpieces you can.”

Raon clasped his hands together and bowed.

“Then, before that, we need a warm-up.”

“Yeah. And I think we know exactly how to do that.”

Vulcan and Kuberad’s eyes both landed on Heavenly Drive and the Blade of Requiem at the same time.

“Let’s start by taking a look at your swords.”

The two men, both friends and the blacksmith of the continents, licked their lips as they spoke in unison.

 

 

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