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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: The Last Favor
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Clop-clop-clop.
Three days had passed. In a world without books or phones, just how boring was travel? While I was absently staring out the window at the passing scenery, I noticed the horse hooves sounding more lively on the road. I hurriedly stuck my head out through the top of the carriage.
Cobblestones lined the path, and far off in the distance stood the city walls. That had to be Cligrove...
"It's the city!"
The other escort soldiers shouted excitedly at the sight of the city after so long. To them, it was a place where they could finally eat and play their fill.
Cligrove—the city ruled by Count Cligrove—boasted monstrous defensive strength for one inside the empire's borders. Its double walls and deep moat were more than enough to bring despair to any attackers.
Its nickname was the Ironclad City. The fact that a city, not a fortress, bore that title said it all. Excluding fortresses built purely for defense and the capital with its triple walls, it had the empire's finest defenses.
What made it special was that cities inevitably sprawled wide, stretching their walls long. Imagine the stone required for those walls—doubled up, no less. It must have cost enough to make a noble house or even a kingdom reel.
"Thanks to that, we got in nice and easy."
"I'm the one who's grateful. I can finally pay off my debt."
With Gringem the caravan leader vouching for me, I entered the city without issue. Once inside, he looked at me and pulled something from his pocket. Elegant script in fine handwriting. He called it a letter of introduction.
"This is my last favor. If you're going to work as a mercenary, you need at least some gear, right? Take it to Ashwick Forge, and they'll give you six gold coins' worth."
He said that and turned away without a shred of hesitation before I could even respond.
Given Gringem's personality, he probably thought the debt was fully settled now, so I parted ways without regrets. Some might call it cold, but that's a merchant for you. The fact that he'd gone this far just to square things showed how conscientious he was.
Besides, six gold coins was no small sum. It was shockingly large, in fact. With one gold coin worth about a million won, he'd handed me six million—as payment for saving his life.
"Ashwick Forge, huh..."
I clutched the letter of introduction from Gringem and wandered the city in search of the place. It didn't take long to find a building pouring out raucous clangs of metal.
[Ashwick Forge]
"Anyone here?"
"Who is it?"
Inside sat a half-naked man guarding the shop with a bored expression. From the clanging coming from within, it seemed the store and forge shared the building, separated only by a wall. Most shops in this world were like that.
"I'm here to buy some gear."
"What're you looking for?"
"Haven't decided yet... but I've got about six gold to spend."
His face bloomed into a wide grin. He rubbed his hands together and approached me eagerly.
"Well, well! Of course! If you're looking for gear in this city, Ashwick Forge is the best! Cheap and top quality! How about something like this? With your build, it'd suit you perfectly. Want to give it a try?"
The man lifted an axe from the wall. Not just any axe—a ridiculously huge one. It might look like a normal axe in my hands. But I shook my head. It wasn't what I wanted.
"I'd prefer a sword over an axe."
"Haha! Then I've got just the thing. How's this? A two-hander. Perfectly matches your stature."
Two-hander. A greatsword nearly as tall as a person. A longsword wasn't small by any means, but this was a full size up. Even for my 200cm-plus frame, it was so massive it overwhelmed me.
To wield it, you needed to be at least 180cm tall, so not many could. It was surely unsold stock gathering dust. But the moment I saw it, I felt a fateful pull.
"Made of top-quality steel. All our forge's techniques poured into it..."
"How much?"
"Ahem..."
He cleared his throat and held up eight fingers. Eight gold coins?
"That's the price. As you can see, just the steel in it cost eight gold."
Who did this guy think I was, a sucker? What sword cost that much? Eight gold was eight million won. But when I eyed him suspiciously, he jumped up indignantly.
"Hey! Don't look at me like that! Do you know how expensive steel is? We're practically losing money on this! If the guy who ordered it hadn't canceled unilaterally..."
"Even so, eight gold? Isn't that highway robbery? And I only have six gold."
"Exactly six?"
"Yeah. So haggle it down a bit."
Even at six gold, it'd wipe out Gringem's gift, but I'd cover other armor with my savings from beast hunting: 3 pounds, 7 crowns, 8 shillings—about 3.78 million won.
The question was whether I could get the sword for six. The clerk seemed firm on no less than eight, but since it was dead stock, I might squeeze it.
"Dropping from eight to six feels a bit too bandit-like, don't you think?"
Bandit-like? Sure, for a pristine new item. But who would use a 2m-long, 8kg-plus madman's sword? Normal swords over 4kg were for display, not battle.
The original orderer probably wanted it for show and bailed. I pressed that point.
"No one else is gonna buy it but me, right? Who uses a monster like this?"
"We could melt it down for scrap..."
"You think that's realistic?"
Making it must've been a huge hassle, and remelting would barely yield enough for two more swords—at extra labor cost.
"Five pounds five crowns."
"No way... Seven pounds six crowns, my limit."
"Think about melting it and reforging. Quality drops, and you lose ten percent in the process."
"Hmm..."
He hadn't expected me to know that; he drummed the table, looking stung.
"Hmm... Seven pounds."
Six crowns shaved off right away. More room to negotiate. I licked my chops like a wolf eyeing tender meat.
"And honestly, does it sit well having this sword just propped up? Doesn't its maker complain? A weapon's like a blacksmith's child, yet it's gathering dust unused."
"..."
"Maintaining a big sword like this must be a pain too. Constant oiling—the cost and labor alone..."
The clerk shook his head, conceding. Stock like this hurt the shop the longer it sat. Weapons needed upkeep, and a standout item lingering made customers doubt their quality.
"Six pounds five crowns. That's my bottom line. Even this, I'll catch hell from the craftsmen."
I smiled faintly.
"Six pounds. Go ask them."
No less than six. Moments later, the clerk returned from the forge, face swollen like he'd taken a hit.
"Six pounds... take it and go..."
"Nah, I need armor too. How much for that?"
He gaped, stunned.
"You said only six pounds..."
"You believed me? Here's six pounds."
"With the letter...?"
Before he could change his mind, I slapped down six pounds' worth of Gringem's letter and eyed the armor.
"I'll be back!"
In the end, I left without armor. Nothing fit my massive build. The clerk sized me up, checked the stock, and shook his head.
To get proper gear, I'd need custom work, and over three pounds wouldn't cut it for that. He recommended a gambeson as a stand-in—cloth armor, a bit cheaper.
Despite the heavy haggling, he kept his pro spirit and directed me to a place for custom gambesons.
"Gambeson... gambeson."
Cloth armor sounded off-putting, but gambeson felt oddly fine. Was this cultural chauvinism or whatever?
It'd be cheap—that was the big plus. Easy to maintain too. But cloth's downsides were clear: brutally hot in summer, dubious protection from dozens of layered fabrics.
"No choice but gambeson, I guess..."
I'd blown too much on the sword. A normal longsword half that price would've left cash for decent used transitional plate.