Chapter 152: You're Playing with Fire
"Maria..."
Arthur turned back toward the doorway, realized his predicament a beat too late. But Maria wasn't wearing the expression of righteous fury he had anticipated; instead, she looked dissatisfied and... utterly bewildered.
He reached out to take her hand, but she took a half-step back. As confusion clouded Arthur's mind, a realization struck him: in almost every ballad sung by a traveling bard, the dragon's reputation was notoriously... flexible in its tastes.
"You...listen to my explanation!"
Arthur's throat felt parched enough to spark, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out across his back. He was more tense now than he had been during his life-or-death struggle with the Yghern in Brokilon.
"I won't listen, I won't listen, I won't...pfft!"
Maria had backed away with her hands over her ears, mimicking the classic "misunderstanding" trope found in cheap romances. Arthur's head throbbed. Fortunately, perhaps because she had spent too much time among the blunt and literal dryads, she couldn't even finish the line before she dissolved into laughter.
"Well? How was that? Did I look like one of those maidens in the ballads caught in a tragic misunderstanding?"
Her eyebrows arched into two crescents, her eyes shimmering with mirth. There wasn't a trace of genuine suspicion to be found. But as the saying goes, fortune and misfortune are two sides of the same coin; Maria's radiant smile was beautiful, but it also invited trouble.
Arthur strode forward, his large hands gripping Maria's shoulders as he pulled her into a firm embrace. "My love, you must listen to my explanation... and I am more than happy to provide the proof!"
Maria, still grinning as she watched Arthur lean into his own theatrical performance, suddenly felt the world tilt. Arthur swept her up in his arms and began striding toward their guest room.
She gave his chest a light, playful swat, caught between annoyance and amusement. "Hey! What are you doing?"
"Proving I'm a man of singular tastes, of course!" Arthur kicked the door open, his voice ringing with mock-righteousness as his hands...seemingly acting on instinct...began to loosen the fastenings of her cloak.
"Hahaha, no! There isn't even a bed in here... Let me rest for a day... Help! Murder!"
Maria struggled playfully for a few moments, but as Arthur's breathing grew heavy and ragged, she finally realized he was playing for keeps. Unfortunately, the realization came too late. The foolish girl had lit a fire she couldn't control.
Tugged by a semi-transparent hand, the door labeled "Emerald Suite" slammed shut with a definitive thud, sealing the sounds of laughter and play inside.
"Did you hear? That pack of idiots who came looking for trouble yesterday got rounded up."
The following morning, the moment Arthur stepped onto Blacksmith Street, Percival leaped from his rocking chair before Arthur could even cross the threshold.
"Word is, those fellows went to the City Hall first, screaming that they'd resort to force if their man wasn't handed over..."
Arthur wasn't particularly curious. With their Ambassador in custody, any guards foolish enough to stir up trouble were destined for a predictable end. Still, since Percival had started the tale, he asked politely, "And then?"
"And then they were 'resorted to' by force!" Percival raised his hands, excitedly miming the suppression he had heard about.
The gnome's words were fast and dense, a barrage of gossip that lasted for ten minutes before he finally slowed down. Arthur seized the opening. "You sent word for me to come urgently. What's the matter?"
He had been... occupied for quite some time last night, and by the time he woke, the inn's breakfast had already been cleared. He had hoped for a rare day of quiet, but just after he finished a late lunch, a messenger from Percival arrived insisting he come to the forge this afternoon.
Chapter 152: Woman, You're Playing with Fire
"I called you here because there's business to attend to, obviously. Here, the swords you ordered are finished."
As he spoke, Percival pulled away a sheet of fine linen with the flourish of a merchant delivering a luxury carriage, revealing the weapon rack beneath. Resting upon it were two blades shimmering with a cold, lethal light: a reforged silver sword and the reinforced Edge of Temeria.
Arthur picked up the silver sword first. Its weight had increased slightly, but for a witcher with superhuman strength, it was hardly a burden. What made his heart skip a beat, however, was the distinct, milky-white luster reflecting off the blade...the unmistakable sheen of a mithril alloy.
Amidst his pleasant surprise, a wave of curiosity washed over him. Percival's forge wasn't equipped to process mithril, and Arthur had been at his side almost constantly...when exactly had he done this?
Percival gave a smug, self-satisfied grin. "After Tallon stepped down, the guild elected me and a few other old-timers to form an interim management committee. I found a few 'Beard-tossers' with decent skill and handed your order over to them."
Arthur nodded thoughtfully. Any smith who earned Percival's seal of approval was bound to be a master of the craft. Still...
"You didn't abuse your new authority, did you?" Arthur asked tentatively. Having forged mithril with his own hands, he knew how grueling the labor was. Three hundred crowns was a 'friendship price' that bordered on highway robbery in reverse.
"Am I the sort of fellow who lacks professional ethics?" Percival protested shrilly. "Remember that near-disaster with the Thunderfire Forge a while back? Even though the inspection turned up nothing, we still had to put it through its paces. You have no idea how excited those dwarves were to be invited to a trial run...the materials were provided, they had the guidance of a master like me, and they got to use the Thunderfire Forge. Forget three hundred crowns; people would have lined up to work for free!"
Arthur couldn't help but smile. Percival's maneuver was flawless...a classic case of 'the willing buyer and the willing seller.' At worst, the selection of the "testers" was a bit biased, but for an interim president, that was a trifle.
Setting down the silver sword, Arthur turned his gaze toward the Edge of Temeria.
His old companion's silhouette remained identical to before, yet it was now shrouded in a faint, ethereal green luminescence that pulsed with a weak magical vibration. Arthur turned the blade over several times in confusion, but he couldn't find a single rune etched into the steel.
Percival laughed and swore at him. "What are you looking for, brat? Runic blades are a dwarven trade secret. You think just any smith can whip one up?"
"But I can clearly sense the magical fluctuations," Arthur countered.
"It's the Fifth Element. By infusing the steel with that magical material, the blade can now automatically repair minor nicks and chips."
To test it, Arthur took the silver sword and drew it forcefully across the spine of the Edge of Temeria. The resulting scratch vanished at a visible speed, the steel smoothing itself out as if it were alive.
Percival crossed his arms, looking triumphant. "Now, I'll be damned if you manage to break it again. Aye, it's a few pounds heavier than before, but with that freakish strength of yours, it shouldn't be an issue, should it?"
Arthur took the blade to an open area and put it through several forms. The craftsmanship was superb; the balance remained perfect, making the sword feel like a natural extension of his arm. If anything, the added weight made his slashes feel significantly more devastating.
To verify this, Arthur swung at a wooden post wrapped in thick ox-hide...a setup used to simulate light armored units. The cold steel whistled through the air, shearing through both hide and wood in a single stroke. The severed surface was as smooth as a mirror.
Clap, clap, clap!
Arthur was about to find another target when the sound of applause erupted from behind him.
King Eist was standing in the middle of the street, though when he had arrived was anyone's guess. Even the thick beard covering half his face couldn't hide his excitement.
"A fine blade indeed! I hope my sword performs just as well."