A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles

‘An ancient metal forging technique passed down from generation to generation?? Incredible! Then a legendary weapon will be born soon! Of course, as long as you actually have ancient metal in your hands, hahahaha.’

‘Hey, don’t mock him so much. It’s the only thing he can brag about. What if he gets depressed and ends up hanging himself?’

‘Wow, that was a slip-up. Just in case I ask, you’re not really thinking of hanging yourself, right? You have a son—take care of that body.’

Memories of the past, when he had become the laughingstock of his former associates, passed before Malcolm’s eyes like a carousel.

The faces of those who had looked down on him with mocking smiles remained vivid in his memory even now.

Memories that, whenever he recalled them, hurt as if someone were twisting a knife in his chest.

And yet, despite recalling all of that, he felt no pain at all.

It was as if those deep blue flames had reduced to ashes all the knots he carried in his heart.

‘…It’s not over yet.’

Malcolm tensed his legs, which threatened to give out.

He had released resentment accumulated over decades, yes, but he still had an obligation left.

The obligation to prove to the world the value of the knowledge his ancestors had passed down from generation to generation.

When the deep blue flames began to grow lighter, Malcolm once again pulled out the fairy metal with the tongs.

The ingot, covered in cracks, shone with a hypnotic beauty, like an egg that held blue fire within.

After checking its condition, Malcolm finally began to strike it with the hammer.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

With each blow, a clear sound rang out, and the fairy metal began to slowly change shape.

Seeing the ancient metal deform amid flying sparks, the knights’ eyes widened.

In the midst of a silence heavy with awe, Malcolm repeated the processes of forging, welding, and quenching over and over again.

The method was still chaotic, but unlike before, no one dared to say anything.

They had already witnessed with their own eyes how the fairy metal was transformed through a process that defied all common sense.

Hiss!

After a long time hammering the metal, Malcolm carried out the final quenching.

When the dense steam dissipated, what emerged from the water had taken the shape of a sword.

A blade without a hilt, without a guard, and without a pommel.

Even so, just by virtue of its color, reminiscent of the night sky, the blade was extraordinarily beautiful.

Malcolm held the sword he had created with both hands and presented it to the duke.

“It’s finished.”

The young duke, Lucian, took the blade in silence.

He swung it through the air a couple of times, then exclaimed with complete sincerity.

“Excellent!”

At that single word, Malcolm burst into tears.

In that instant, decades of frustration were repaid all at once.

***

‘This is a monumental stroke of luck.’

Lucian did his utmost to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his face.

He had organized a blacksmith competition to uncover the forging technique of ancient metals, but, to be honest, it was not a particularly effective method.

It depended entirely on instinct and talent.

‘Although, to be fair, there was no other alternative, and even if I discovered it this way, the road would be arduous.’

Techniques obtained purely through intuition took an extremely long time to systematize.

In the worst case, the slow pace of research and the high costs could render them useless in practice.

And yet, there existed a book that had organized the forging technique of ancient metals in a systematic manner.

‘This blacksmith may be skilled, but achieving immediate success with a technique described only in text proves that the method is extremely well structured.’

In other words, if that technique were taught to other blacksmiths, they could mass-produce weapons in a very short time.

Moreover, he had gained a blacksmith who, although lacking prior practical experience, understood the theory better than anyone.

He had obtained both invaluable knowledge and someone capable of passing it on.

It was impossible not to feel satisfied.

“Malcolm.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“I will employ you officially. From now on, you will have the authority to inspect all workshops in Asagrim, and when dealing with blacksmiths, you may act in my stead. This position has not existed before, so we will call it Master of the Furnace.”

“…!”

Malcolm’s body trembled with emotion, but the words that followed left him stunned.

Although limited to artisans, he was being granted the authority to represent the duke.

In practice, it meant absolute power within the world of blacksmiths.

“The position of Master of the Furnace will be lifelong, and you will be exempt from the death penalty unless you commit a crime equivalent to treason. If you choose to retire while alive, you will also have the right to recommend your successor.”

“I… Your Excellency…”

Something caught in Malcolm’s throat.

He had succeeded with the fairy metal, but even so, it was his first time working with an ancient metal.

Once the technique was mastered, there would be no need to rely exclusively on him, and yet the treatment was extraordinarily generous.

For the first time in his life, Malcolm felt true loyalty.

He struck his forehead against the floor and shouted.

“Thank you, Your Excellency! This old man will devote the rest of his life to serving you with all his strength!”

“Good. I look forward to what you will accomplish from now on.”

Lucian patted him on the shoulder and smiled deeply.

‘The one who should be grateful is me.’

The treatment Lucian offered Malcolm was, without a doubt, excessive for a mere blacksmith.

But no matter how extraordinary it was, it was still a position tied to Asagrim.

With a single word, Lucian could revoke everything.

Even the clause regarding the death penalty merely meant that he would not be executed, not that he would go unpunished.

If he committed a crime deserving of death, he could save his life, but not the rest.

‘Though if he becomes intoxicated with power without understanding the context of my words, he will have to bear the consequences.’

Of course, it would not be bad either if Malcolm maintained that loyalty and worked diligently until the end of his days.

He more than deserved the position of Master of the Furnace for the achievements he had attained.

Furthermore, when Malcolm’s story spread, others would be willing to trust Lucian and offer up their own treasures.

That would only make Asagrim prosper even more.

In any case, Lucian had nothing to lose.

“Come on, get up already. You’ll have plenty of work ahead of you. Are you planning to stay kneeling on a cold floor? What if you fall ill?”

“Your Excellency…!”

Unaware of Lucian’s true thoughts, Malcolm silently swore as he felt the duke himself help him to his feet.

He swore to devote the rest of his life to repaying the kindness of that young duke.

And he swore to reveal without reservation all the visions and knowledge inherited from his ancestors.

***

After obtaining the forging technique of ancient metals, Lucian decided to conceal Malcolm’s existence for the time being.

Once the competition had been officially announced, it could not simply be canceled just because he had already found the talent he needed.

In any case, if the competition was going to be held, it was better to postpone any news that might discourage the participants.

‘And with a bit of luck, perhaps someone else like Malcolm will appear, someone hiding a secret technique.’

After assigning a residence within the palace to Malcolm and his son, Lucian appointed as his escorts the knights who had directly witnessed the forging of the fairy metal.

It was better to entrust his protection to those who knew his true value, rather than ordering knights who knew nothing to protect a mere commoner.

As expected, the knights who had seen the forging with their own eyes accepted the mission without the slightest complaint.

“Even if he’s a commoner, he’s a blacksmith capable of refining ancient metals. If we speak of the value of a life, he’s probably more valuable than any of us.”

“If it comes to that, we’ll give our lives to protect him. For the future of His Excellency the duke and of Asagrim.”

“…It won’t be necessary to go that far. We’re inside the palace, so just make sure to protect him well.”

Lucian replied with a somewhat awkward expression at the knights’ fervor.

It was good that they were motivated, but it was also not advisable for them to treat a simple security measure as if it were a top-priority mission.

After calming them down and sending them off with Malcolm, Lucian summoned Hans.

“How are the Black Lions who joined recently? Are they adapting well?”

“Yes. After all the effort they went through before being formally admitted, they seem to be enjoying their rest. Lately, they frequently meet with Sir Raymond.”

“They worked together for a long time. It’s natural that they have much to talk about.”

Raymond and the four Black Lions who had arrived recently had once been part of Lucian’s escort team.

They would not have been assigned together without reason; it meant they had demonstrated excellent coordination in numerous missions.

“They’ve known each other far longer than they’ve known me. Their bond must be deep, so as long as they don’t interfere with Raymond’s work, leave them be.”

“Understood. And also… we recently received a rather… discourteous request from outside.”

“Discourteous?”

“The messenger of the first young master, Tristan, came to inform us that he plans to visit Asagrim soon to pay his respects to Sir Eisen.”

“Just as I expected.”

Lucian had already heard that Tristan’s situation was not good and that he was seeking sponsors.

According to the rumors, even the support of his maternal grandfather had been cut off, so he must have been quite desperate.

At that moment, the only one who could afford to help him was Lucian, so it was natural that he would try to rely on blood ties.

However, Hans was not finished.

“The problem is that he will not come alone. He has requested to come accompanied by five hundred soldiers. In truth, more than a request, it was practically a notification.”

It was an absurd demand.

Even if it were a small force, bringing armed troops into another lord’s territory was a grave discourtesy.

And doing so under the pretext of attending a funeral, as a mere mourner, was even worse.

“Five hundred soldiers…”

Rather than erupting in anger at such an ill-considered request, Lucian let out a brief laugh.

Not because the number was insignificant, but because he understood Tristan’s desperate situation, having nowhere to station those troops.

‘Without territory of his own, he has nowhere to quarter them. And even if he found a place, it’s doubtful the army would remain intact while he’s away.’

Tristan was already struggling to maintain even that small contingent, which was why he was traveling from place to place seeking support.

Leaving his army, the only pillar sustaining him, to travel to another region was a dangerous gamble.

No matter how disciplined the troops were, they would most likely disperse in a short time.

‘Either he accepts harsh criticism for bringing troops to a Swordmaster’s funeral, or he protects his honor and gives up ruling as the leader of a faction. A true choice between two deaths.’

Tristan truly had no alternative.

Disbanding the army would mean losing even the slightest chance of independence he still possessed.

Sensing his situation, Lucian formed a bitter smile.

“Tell him to come with all of them.”

“Are you sure? Even if it’s only five hundred, it’s still an external military force.”

“It doesn’t matter. They won’t be able to do anything in Asagrim anyway. And it would be worse if Tristan collapsed completely because we forbade it.”

If Tristan lost even that army, he would have no way to recover.

He would end up being absorbed by another faction or losing his life.

Lucian preferred to avoid that outcome as much as possible.

‘There are still things Tristan must do for me.’