Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"Didn't they leave any other messages?"

"No."

Winters sniffed the invitation but didn't detect any scent.

He held the invitation in his hand, thought for a moment, and said, "Before morning, I'll find out what this John H. Shylock Trading Company is all about. If they send someone else, try to keep the messenger here until I return."

"Alright."

"How is the bidding going?" Winters asked Anna, "Still smooth?"

Anna smiled brightly: "Of course."

...

On the third day of the "reverse auction," nothing happened still.

At dinner time, Berlion served up a stew brimming with sauce. He mysteriously refused to reveal what it was, simply inviting Winters and Anna to taste it first.

Winters observed that the chunky objects in the plate should be translucent, smothered in sauce. They looked somewhat like boiled radishes but smelled like some kind of meat.

He tasted a piece. It was tender and mushy at first bite but became chewy as he continued to bite down. The sauce wrapped around the meat was rich and delicious, leaving a slight sweetness in the aftertaste.

It was hard to imagine such a stunning dish coming from a blacksmith who spent most of his time changing horseshoes.

Anna also particularly liked the dish, unusually finishing her plate even faster than Winters. After repeatedly thanking Berlion, she asked curiously, "What exactly is this? Some kind of sugar or paste?"

"Madam," Berlion answered with a hint of pride, "It's beef cheek."

Anna's expression became somewhat unnatural, for beef cheek, as an "odd scrap," was generally not served at formal tables, but she had to admit she liked the dish Berlion had presented.

Anna quickly regained her composure and praised Berlion with a smile, "I've heard that the most skilled chefs know to present a dish of peasant food that guests would usually disdain, as a special delicacy at the end of a feast. Mr. Soria, thank you, your special delicacy is extremely delicious."

With a deep bow, Berlion expressed his heartfelt gratitude for Anna's compliment. He was about to return to the kitchen when Winters stopped him.

Winters made Berlion sit down, and asked earnestly yet helplessly: "What exactly is the Iron Castle blacksmith guild's oath of secrecy? Where does its binding power come from? Why do all blacksmiths remain tight-lipped yet show such unwavering loyalty to it?"

"What?" Anna asked, "No progress today either?"

Winters shook his head and then looked toward Berlion.

Berlion cast his eyes down toward the tips of his boots: "Your Excellency, I can assure you—I never took the Iron Castle blacksmith's oath of secrecy. So, I do not know the specifics of the oath."

"Don't worry, you can just share what you know," Winters patted Berlion's shoulder, "Only what you're willing to share is fine too."

Berlion fell silent for a moment, then asked with difficulty, "Like what?"

Winters tried to speak in a tone that wouldn't pressure Berlion, "For example, what gives the Iron Castle blacksmith's oath of secrecy its binding force? Isn't it just a phrase? Why does everyone hold it in such high regard?"

"Dear," Anna gave Winters a reproachful look, "An oath is not just a mere phrase."

Winters made an apologetic gesture.

Berlion's mood returned to steady calmness: "Your Excellency, instead of dwelling on the power of oaths, have you considered 'what kind of person can become a Tiefeng blacksmith'?"

"What kind of person?" Winters asked.

Berlion rare burst of eloquence: "Firstly, a blacksmith must be a local resident of Tiefeng, having a family and an untainted background; next, one needs a guarantor to enter apprenticeship, usually backed by several close friends or relatives; finally, apprentices must endure a lengthy apprenticeship period. During apprenticeship, there's no salary, they're often chastised by their masters, and if they do not work hard, they may be dismissed. After years of hard training, a child can become an officially registered Tiefeng blacksmith.

It sounds cruel, doesn't it? But compared to those who have no skills and can only do the lowest level of physical labor in mines and workshops, known as 'mule workers', blacksmiths receive astonishingly generous treatment. They earn better wages, hold a higher status, enjoy a decent life, have citizenship rights, and could even become Forge Masters. Most importantly—they can learn genuine skills. Many people, simply because they are not from Solingen State, will never have the chance to cross this threshold in their lifetime."

Winters concluded: "You're saying that blacksmiths who have mastered their craft feel they have enough and fear change, therefore, reluctant to adopt changes."

"Not only that, Your Excellency." Berlion said in a grave tone: "If any registered Tiefeng blacksmith chooses to serve you, their family members, relatives, and even their guarantors when they started their apprenticeship, will all suffer. When I speak of suffering, I mean their lives will be in jeopardy. As for the blacksmith himself, he will inevitably be put to death. The Tiefeng Blacksmiths' Guild will stop at nothing to kill the traitor—they have both the ability and the resolve to do so."

Winters and Anna exchanged a glance. If what Berlion said was true, then Tiefeng blacksmiths, if not an ironclad group, at least had much stronger bonds than those in the Various Republics of the Alliance.

They were a collective, tightly bound by both interest and violence. The idea of secretly recruiting blacksmiths seemed impossible now.

Winter's gaze sharpened as he stared intently at Berlion's face: "Then, have there ever been any cases of 'betrayal' among Tiefeng blacksmiths in the past?"

Berlion could not meet Winters' gaze, he lowered his head and swallowed: "I am not quite clear on that, Your Excellency."

Winters sighed inwardly; Berlion obviously did not wish to elaborate. Since the other party was unwilling to speak, it would be inappropriate to press further.

Berlion had followed Winters from the Great Wilderness, in and out of peril, and Winters couldn't understand his old subordinate better. When Berlion was unwilling to speak, you were at a dead end with him. Winters didn't have the heart to coerce him into talking.

Winters patted Berlion's shoulder, not saying anything more.

Berlion looked down at the tip of his boots, his eyes seemingly carrying a hint of guilt.

"It's no big deal. Now that I know the situation, I will find a way." Winters knocked on the table, saying with zestful determination: "If I can't deal with the blacksmiths, I'll deal with the person who can deal with the blacksmiths."

When one is motivated, the mind opens up with ideas. Winters had a sudden inspiration: "If I really can't hire anyone, can't I just take away the hammers, the drilling machines? I'll move the furnaces back to Tiefeng, exact replicas!"

"The furnace? I'm afraid that won't work, where could you find a carriage big enough?" Anna joked.

Winters laughed heartily: "Then we'll build an identical one, ten, a hundred of them."

Berlion seemed to be infected by Winters' optimism as well, as the tension on his cheeks eased somewhat. He stood up to salute and then returned to the kitchen.

Only Winters and Anna were left at the dining table, as Father Kaman did not join them for the meal.

"My esteemed lady, how is the task you are busy with progressing?" Winters asked deliberately in a pompous tone.

"[Everything is ready]," Anna smiled in response: "[just waiting for the east wind]."

…

On the fourth day, the east wind arrived.

News came from Horn Castle, the appeal and defense against the trade embargo... utterly failed.