Ta-da!
Ta-da!
This is the rhythm of Steel Street at night.
Many blacksmiths work at night.
During peak seasons, such as when they take on a job with a mercenary team, it's common for blacksmiths to work through the night.
But there is one exception.
There is a famous blacksmith shop on Steel Street, and the master blacksmith is named Tob Mort. He is the only blacksmith among the hundreds of blacksmiths in King's Landing who can infuse pigment into steel.
This technology, which allows for the application of customer-specified colors onto weapons, is unique to Tob Mott.
Tob Mot's blacksmith shop never takes orders at night, nor does it forge weapons or armor at night.
He rests at night.
That's his rule, and Tob's weapons are also the most expensive in Steel Street.
Whether it's a longsword, dagger, short knife, or helmet, neck guard, leg armor, or front and back vest armor, they are all more expensive than other items.
There are relatively few mercenaries who can afford a full set of armor. Most mercenaries can only afford a helmet, and some neck guards, leg guards, and the like.
Nevertheless, many people still come to Tob's blacksmith shop to buy weapons and armor.
Top is very famous.
Tob Mott had a blacksmith apprentice named Gendry.
Gendry is fourteen years old, but he is as tall as an adult man. He has strong muscles, thick lips, and powerful strength. He has blue eyes and a full head of thick black hair.
Although Tob Mott drank alcohol and slept at night, it didn't mean his apprentices would do the same.
Gendry had to forge iron blanks at night.
The quality of the iron blank directly affects the quality of weapons and armor.
If other blacksmith shops can forge iron blanks a hundred times, Tob requires Gendry to forge them three hundred times.
What others can shape into a good iron blank after a hundred hammerings, Tobu needs to work two hundred more times.
The work of forging iron blanks is very hard. Every time he swings the hammer, he needs to use his full strength, but he also has to use a little skill.
Although Gendry was only fourteen years old, he was already a true master at forging iron blanks and crafting various weapons, and he had also secretly learned Master Tob's technique for forging colored weapons.
The master never explained anything to Gendry when he made things; Gendry had to see, think, figure, and experiment on his own.
The verbal transmission of techniques regarding weapon crafting between the master and apprentice had never occurred before in many years.
But Gendry learned better and faster than any other apprentice in the blacksmith's shop.
This child has a talent for iron smelting; he appears rough and tough on the outside, but is actually quite sensitive on the inside.
Without exception, Gendry continued forging iron blanks after his master had slept soundly.
He has to work until midnight before he can sleep.
Gendry now handles all the dirty, hard, miscellaneous, and basic work in the blacksmith shop by himself. Unless a customer specifically requests Master Tob to forge a weapon, even customer orders must now be completed by Gendry alone.
Master Tob simply stood by, holding his teacup, watching without saying a word.
In the beginning, if Gendry's weapons couldn't be delivered to the customer, he had to start over, squeezing in his mealtimes to work overtime and rework them.
The harsh life forged Gendry into a physique far beyond his years, granting him formidable strength. At the same time, perhaps due to the fire and the cold, uncommunicative environment with his master, Gendry developed a very stubborn personality.
He became increasingly stubborn, whether dealing with clients or his mentor.
Ta-da!
Master Tob slept soundly to the sound of Gendry forging iron blanks.
Blacksmiths are used to sleeping comfortably amidst the loud clanging of hammering.
The residents of Steel Street were used to the clanging and banging of the blacksmiths day and night.
But some people will definitely not be used to it.
Just as Gendry was engrossed in forging the iron ingot, someone knocked on the blacksmith's door.
The blacksmith's shop door wouldn't be closed until Gendry went to sleep.
Clap clap clap!
Someone is knocking on the door.
Gendry remained silent and continued forging his iron billet.
He encountered more and more mercenaries and domineering people, but he completely ignored them. He simply focused on his own work: collecting money, negotiating business, and receiving guests were all his master's business, not his.
Who would dare to knock on Master Tob's blacksmith door at this hour? Doesn't he know that Master Tob never takes orders at night? If he doesn't know the rules, then he's neither an experienced mercenary nor a city garrison soldier, but just a rookie soldier, a novice who doesn't know the rules.
Gendry ignored both veterans and new recruits.
He continued hammering his iron blank, stroke after stroke, the hammer swung back and forth, sweat dripping from the muscles on his shoulders, gleaming like gold in the glow of the furnace.
His physique is a work of art with perfectly defined muscles.
Some people stared in disbelief.
He fell in love with such strong and perfect muscle definition.
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This person's eyes were bright and clear, like a cat's eyes in the dark.
He wanted to immerse Gendry entirely in a large vat of liquor and turn him into a work of art.
The man who walked silently into the blacksmith's shop was Sir Polliver Clegane from the inn next door.
He had knocked on the door several times, but the blacksmith in the shop simply didn't look up, didn't hear, and ignored him.
It wasn't until Polliver's hand touched Gendry's muscular back that Gendry suddenly turned around: "What?" Gendry's eyes widened, his face full of anger.
Gendry's personality is like the iron blank under his hammer.
The higher his blacksmithing skills, the stronger his stubborn character became. After years of tempering, he became as strong and hard as a shaped iron blank.
"Such perfect muscles." Polliver's eyes gleamed, and he stuck out his tongue to lick his lips in a lewd manner.
"We don't take orders at night," Gendry said sullenly.
He felt that this tall, bald man was not a normal person, but rather a mentally ill person who should be locked up.
Gendry is fearless, but he is afraid of people who are mentally unstable.
Polliver looked Gendry up and down, making admiring clicks of his tongue.
He watched Gendry circle around several times.
"Sir Polliver," a voice said from the gate, "you must tell this lad to stop blacksmithing and pay him back. He's disturbing the master and the brothers' rest. The master is waiting for our reply."
Polliver's eyes flickered, as if he had returned from a hazy fantasy to reality. He remembered Lord Gregor's instructions, which were orders that he had to carry out.
He stared at Gendry's muscular physique with lingering affection.
"Boy, the sound of your blacksmithing is disturbing our rest. You pay us ten golden dragons and stop blacksmithing, and we'll call it even."
Gendry's eyes widened instantly. He looked Polliver up and down without saying a word, then suddenly swung his hammer, striking the iron blank with a loud clang. Had Polliver not dodged quickly, he would have been grazed by the hammer as it swung.
when!
when!
when!
Gendry slammed the iron billet down three times in quick succession, then glanced at Polliver with disdain.
Polliver's eyes widened again; he was once again captivated by Gendry's muscular tension and perfect muscle definition as he swung the sledgehammer.
He fell in love with Gendry's muscles, which possessed explosive power.
Clap clap clap!
Several cavalrymen with evil auras, fierce appearances, and ruthless eyes walked in. The three loud hammer blows that Gendry had used to provoke him had not angered Polliver, but they had enraged them.
A mere blacksmith apprentice dared to talk back to them.
They are the Mountain's men.