CHAPTER 126: CHAPTER 124 DWARF HARBIN

"Master, we’ve reached the campsite."

The wheels rolled forward, and the cleared ground awaited ahead, with about ten townsfolk still assisting in transporting supplies and clearing the area.

At the center of the open space was enough provisions for a thousand people for three days, levied by the Town Mayor.

The Duke’s Steward of the Mayo Mountain mine smiled brightly, occasionally scolding the townsfolk to hurry up.

The townsfolk who arrived early to help at the campsite looked curiously and fearfully at this group of black-clad individuals.

This group of black-clad people, both old and young, wore some kind of black clothing, more or less.

Unlike the common noisy refugees, these well-drilled villagers always formed somewhat untidy but orderly queues.

No matter what they did, they were methodical. In the blink of an eye, a campsite was swiftly erected.

This was the experience and skills honed during their march, which had almost become an unconscious habit.

Despite the repeated emphasis in the Duke’s letters stating that this was a group of mercenaries he had hired,

the townsfolk knew well that these were not mercenaries at all, but the short-haired rebels who had fled into the Black Bone Marsh a month ago.

No one was a fool; just looking at their hair and short beards gave it away.

The townsfolk were used to the Town Mayor’s groveling, but it was surprising to see the Duke’s steward, a close aide, being deferential to mercenaries.

This also aroused ominous premonitions among the townsfolk; the Duke had recently taken in many rebels under the guise of refugees.

Could it be that a war was coming?

Amid the residents’ murmurs and suspicious glances, Horn set down his luggage and led the procurement team towards Mayo Town.

Gregory walked at the front, leading Horn’s horse, while the Duke’s Steward from the mine accompanied them with a forced smile, chatting with Horn.

After about thirty minutes walking from the campsite, they arrived at Mayo Town.

Mayo Town was actually not very large, with a population of about 800 to 1,000, mostly consisting of miners and ironworkers.

The buildings in the town mostly featured chimneys and stoves, with structures primarily of earth-based wooden frameworks.

The lower level was a wooden frame with rammed earth, while the upper levels were purely wooden walls.

Stone houses were possessions exclusive to the Master Knight.

These houses generally had two to three floors, with a top floor resembling an inverted triangular attic.

It was like a red book placed on a white rectangular shoebox.

Behind the residential houses were mostly cattle sheds, blacksmith shops, vegetable gardens, and cesspits.

On the gray and white exterior walls on both sides of the houses, a long wooden plank spanned diagonally between two posts.

Due to building technology, rectangular walls were unstable and had to be reinforced with wooden planks to form triangles.

Otherwise, they would collapse in any storm, wind, or snow.

The width of the houses ranged from about 2 to 3 fathoms, as wider structures could not be supported by the triangular reinforcements.

These homes were divided into small sections based on family, kinship, assets, and work, resulting in densely scattered houses within a section and narrow roads outside.

According to the list written by Horn, several elders and priests scattered under the protection of the Imperial Guard within those narrow alleys.

Horn and Jeanne went with the Town Mayor to find the blacksmith.

The tip of the Cloud Snow Sword had broken earlier; it was his usual weapon, and he hoped to repair it if possible.

Rekado’s skills were terrible and couldn’t handle dwarf craftsmanship of this level at all.

Upon reaching Mayo Town, Horn initially inquired with a try-it-and-see mindset, unexpectedly finding hope.

"This dwarf is a Dragon Worship Sect dwarf from the Dragon Sleep Mountain Range; his craftsmanship is impeccable."

Walking alongside, Town Mayor Gregory introduced as they went.

"Wasn’t your town specialized in mining and ironworking?"

Joan of Arc Castle was named the Duke’s Territory, but it was really only about the size of an Earl’s Territory, equivalent to two villages.

In it, related to the ironworking industry, were Mayo Town and Gray Furnace Town; the former focused on mining and smelting, the latter on forging and processing.

"Yes, our two towns are the two jewels of Joan of Arc Castle’s iron industry, providing the Duke with over 4,000 gold pounds of income annually."

Just thinking about Duke Kush’s wealth and the iron industry made even the Duke’s lackey steward unconsciously straighten his chest.

Hearing this, Horn couldn’t help but chuckle.

4,000 gold pounds would require selling 6,000 weapons even at military weaponry’s highest profit margin.

Without mentioning anything else, the more than 300 miners of those 800 people couldn’t possibly extract enough iron ore for 6,000 military weapons.

Besides, no guild would allow a lord to do that; priests and nobles stood behind these guilds too.

"Shouldn’t such dwarf artisans be in Gray Furnace Town?"

"He has his reasons for being here; Gray Furnace Town’s artisans have money and love to gamble, with gambling dens everywhere... Just as he spoke, they arrived."

Gregory stepped aside, revealing a narrow alley before him.

The dwarf’s blacksmith workshop was nestled in this narrow alley.

The workshop’s outer walls were shrouded in the black smoke of potions and the dust of mineral slags.

Pinned to the top of the porch was a weathered wooden sign, inscribed with rough lettering: "Brock Blacksmith Workshop."

However, the once quiet alley was now filled with a violent voice.

"See, that’s the reason," Gregory said with a wry smile.

"Harbin, open the door! I know you’re inside!" A burly man with furry arms furiously pounded on the door of the blacksmith shop.

"Pay your debts! Come out!"

"I’m ready to throw filth, Harbin, don’t blame me for not warning you, don’t sleep too deeply tonight!"

"Get out of the way, a noble visitor is here." The Town Mayor shouted at them.

The debt collector spun around, raising his head to glare at Horn.

"Which bastard..."

Just as he started his sentence, he noticed four soldiers behind the visitor, clad in breastplates, looking fierce.

Horn was wearing a cloak of fine purplish-red satin, accompanied by a maid guard with delicate features.

Beside him were the always flattering Town Mayor and the Duke’s mine Steward, both wearing ingratiating and flattering expressions.

The debt collector leader’s heart immediately sank.

"...Which bastard is shouting so loudly and disturbing the noble Master Knight, can you take responsibility?!"

The leader of the debt collectors slapped his furry paw on the back of his companion, knocking him to the ground.

Getting his words together, the debt collectors immediately bowed: "Master, we are just a bunch of poor creditors, the youngest son of this family owes us a large sum of money..."

"I’m not interested in listening." Horn interrupted, "I’m here to find this family to repair my Knight’s Sword, do you understand what I mean?"

"Understood, understood, good dogs don’t block the way, I’m leaving right away, right away!" With smiles plastered on their faces, the three debt collectors fled swiftly.

Horn stepped forward to knock on the door, while the Town Mayor shouted: "Brock, I’ve brought a noble guest to see you, open the door quickly."

A shadow flickered upstairs, and soon the door of the blacksmith shop opened.

They were greeted by a male dwarf about 4 feet tall, wearing a silk robe but with burlap pants below, and missing a heel from his shoe.

This young dwarf had arms and neck as thick as his thighs, with a red beard hanging down his chest.

His eyes moved agilely like a fox, which was uncommon among dwarves.

"Old Town Mayor." The young dwarf smiled flatteringly.

Gregory pushed him inside directly: "We’re here to find your father, lead the way."

The dwarf named Harbin didn’t get upset, leading Horn and the others through the house to the backyard.

The backyard besides the vegetable garden and ditch had a spacious and dim workshop.

The air was filled with the smell of burnt wood and potion stench, in the center of the room, a huge cauldron over a furnace emitted roaring heat waves.

The ground in a corner of the workshop was piled haphazardly with various-sized iron blocks, bricks, and charcoal.

On the other side, the iron workbench was filled with all kinds of ironware and tools, hammer, pliers, ruler, and so on.

A dwarf with a big head and thick neck sat dejectedly in front of the anvil, sweat soaked through his coarse work clothes covered in rust and scorch marks.

His hands were rough, forged and tempered by time, as strong as iron and stone.

Seeing the old Town Mayor arrive, he did not greet him, just sat there silently.

The Town Mayor stepped forward and explained the purpose, handing over Horn’s Cloud Snow Sword.

Drawing out the Cloud Snow Sword and observing it for a while, the dwarf Brock shook his head in a muffled voice: "I can’t repair this."

The Town Mayor immediately asked anxiously: "How can you not repair it? This is your dwarven craftsmanship."

"I can fix it, but I can’t repair it." Brock looked at his bruised son, "I’m old, and things here are not settled, I’m leaving for home the day after tomorrow, repairing this sword will take at least ten days."

"Dad, I’m not going back to the Dragon Sleep Mountain Range, there’s nothing but taverns there." The young dwarf said anxiously.

Grabbed his hammer and threw it at Harbin, Brock uncharacteristically became angry: "You’ve ended up like this, debt collectors come knocking every day, aren’t going back to the Dragon Sleep Mountain Range, staying here to wait to be sold to the Blood and Flesh Royal Court?"

Harbin dodged the hammer awkwardly, sharing the typical stubborn dwarf nature: "I said I’m not going, I’m not going! Dad, I got some good treasures in Branded Rock City.

They’d definitely undervalue it if left with those hands, still won’t repay the debt, I’ll pawn them, surely for a high price."

"Once you step out, you’ll be caught by debt collectors, where are you going to pawn them?"

Harbin’s eyes shifted and he turned his focus to Horn, immediately kneeling at Horn’s feet:

"Noble Master Knight, hire me as a guide, no payment needed.

I’ll take you to Joan of Arc Castle, I know this area terrifyingly well, where the damsels are beautiful and affordable, which gambling houses are interesting, it’s all in my head like a book.

Leave the sword here, my father won’t leave, he’ll stay here specially to repair your sword, repair fee and material fee, you don’t need to pay a penny."

"Little rascal!" Brock grabbed Harbin’s collar with an iron hand, pulling him back, "You’re losing the face of dwarves, no kneeling allowed."

With his neck squeezed, Harbin was still struggling:

"My dad can even pay... pay you a good sword or battle axe, next time get a thirty percent discount..."

Ten days, huh?

Horn would leave Joan of Arc Castle at the latest by mid-November.

It’s not too much trouble, Horn was lazy about more complications.

He didn’t care about Harbin and looked into Brock’s eyes: "If I send him to Joan of Arc Castle, can you stay here and repair my sword?"

"I..." Brock was about to refuse but seeing his son’s pleading expression, he hesitated.

After much consideration, he threw Harbin heavily onto the ground and relented: "I’ll repair it for you, the repair fee and material fee I won’t ask for, just take this little brat away."

"As expected, he’s my old dad, got plenty of my good quali... hey hey hey, I won’t say it, I won’t say it..."