Chapter 126: An Unexpected Meeting with the King
To Arthur's surprise, after taking on the responsibility for investigating the attack, Calanthe made no further moves besides dispatching the ambassador to order the two vassal states to send representatives.
She had offered to arrange accommodation for Arthur and the others in the palace, but that was merely to express gratitude for Ciri's safe return, not to facilitate any further investigation.
It was as if, once a public case reached a certain level of authority, it no longer concerned the people who had actually experienced it.
Arthur's reaction to this was: perfect.
Frederick had been extremely generous, buying their surplus warhorses and Night Crows gear at market price, instantly turning the group into rich men. Consequently, after booking the most luxurious inn in Cintra City, Arthur's small team finally enjoyed a brief dissolution.
Geralt first spent over twenty crowns to purchase a jacket made of double-tailed lizard hide, then plunged headfirst into the jewelry market in the east.
"Poor bastard. Always thinks jewelry can win back a woman's heart…" Dandelion commented with a trace of pity, watching Geralt's retreating back. He then looped his arm through that of some noble's wife and followed suit heading for the high-end clothing market.
Koglgrim's movements were the most secretive, but Arthur knew he was heading to an alchemy shop the Witcher had been constantly reading the notes for making superior Northern Wind whenever he had a moment of downtime.
Arthur's own destination was the north city, which was dense with blacksmiths. One, in particular, was famous for his exceptional skill, even receiving commissions from the Royal Family.
"Welcome to Percival Schuttenbach's Forge. Are you here to commission a sword or collect an order?" Arthur had barely stepped into the smithy, which reeked of burning steel and spice, when he heard a sharp, high-pitched voice.
Failing to spot the speaker immediately, Arthur wisely looked down, and sure enough, he saw the blacksmith.
"You're not a dwarf…" Arthur looked with interest at the renowned blacksmith. He was even shorter than a dwarf, with a sharp, pointed nose that could poke someone's eye out, and an energetic smile he was a gnome.
Faced with Arthur's involuntary observation, the gnome's smile didn't falter; he didn't seem offended at all: "Who says only dwarves can be good blacksmiths? Schuttenbach's craftsmanship is the best in the entire North!"
"I have indeed heard of your great name." Arthur held up the parchment in his hand. The address of the Schuttenbach Forge on it had been provided by Calanthe herself.
He carefully untied the scabbard from his back, took out a blueprint, and placed it on the gnome's workbench: "I would like this sword reforged."
"Ah!" The gnome let out a satisfied sigh of pleasure. Ignoring the blueprint entirely, he took the broken silver sword in his hands: "A Witcher's sword! I never thought a weapon from the ancient times was still in use!"
Arthur raised an eyebrow. That he recognized it as a Witcher's sword was no surprise. But the silver sword was bright enough to be a mirror; how could he tell it was from ancient times?
Percival smiled and pointed to the blueprint beside them: "I've seen this blueprint countless times since I was a blacksmith apprentice. You see, hundreds of years ago, it was the dwarves and gnomes who forged the weapons for the first batch of Witchers."
"While it was the best craftsmanship of its time, now…" Percival smiled and shook his head, leaving the sentence unfinished.
But Arthur understood the subtext this sword, which employed the peak technology of its era, was now little more than a beginner's practice piece for the gnome blacksmith.
Percival examined the broken cross-section of the silver sword and asked: "How did this sword break?"
"It was snapped by a Royal Griffin." Arthur didn't hide the truth, frankly explaining that his impulsiveness had contributed to the destruction of the Witcher's weapon.
Percival nodded, his face taking on the expression of a shrewd merchant:
"I've examined the sword. You now have two options to choose from."
"The first option: I can follow the craftsmanship detailed in this blueprint and fully restore the silver sword. The price isn't steep, only 20 crowns."
Arthur didn't interrupt, waiting for the gnome's second option.
Seeing Arthur's reaction, the smile on the gnome's face grew wider:
"The second option, I can completely reforge this sword. This will bring it up to the standard of the most advanced swords being made today. Not only will its sharpness far surpass the original, but its toughness will also be significantly increased, ensuring it will never be snapped again. But the price might be a bit high…"
The gnome held up his thumb and forefinger, making a gesture of flicking a coin:
"Three hundred crowns."
Three hundred crowns. That price was enough to buy a comfortable dwelling next to the blacksmith's shop. For Arthur, however, it was not a number that required any hesitation.
Koglgrim risked his life for him; the current cost was just a few gold coins a profit!
He nodded and said: "If it is truly as good as you say, the price is not an issue."
"Excellent! Customer, you are indeed a man of principle, soaring righteous, unwavering loyal, and sworn brothers…" Percival cheerfully rattled off a string of complimentary idioms, then conjured an invoice like a magic trick: "A generous price, a generous price. A 50 crown deposit first."
Arthur pulled a heavy purse from his pocket but didn't immediately hand it over:
"Not so fast. I have another order; we can settle up all together later."
Percival's mouth was practically split to his ears. Clutching the ledger, his eyes nearly sparkled as he looked at Arthur: "Tell me, tell me!"
Arthur unslung the Sword of Temeria from his back. This greatsword, which had just been reforged, already showed several new nicks and chips.
"I like the form of this sword, and its power is satisfactory, but it is not very durable. It often needs repairs after just one battle."
"I'd like you to see if there is any way to increase its durability."
Percival lightly flicked the blade of the Sword of Temeria with his finger, producing a clear, ringing clang.
The gnome's face took on a thoughtful expression: "Strange. The forging technique is not exactly advanced, but it's not seriously flawed either. How could it fail to last through even one battle?"
"That is, of course, because the man wielding the sword is the problem."
A hearty voice rang out from the doorway. Percival glanced up, immediately dipping his head:
"Your Majesty the King! Have you come to commission a blade for someone?"
Arthur turned around. It was Eist Tuirseach, whom he had just seen in the palace.
The Skellige-born King wore plain clothes and smiled as he looked at Arthur.
"Me? Are you saying my way of using the sword is flawed?" Arthur asked, pointing at his own nose.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a flicker of worry cross Percival's face the gnome thought the King was criticizing Arthur.
But then, Eist began to explain:
"It's not that your method of using the sword is flawed, it's that your method of fighting is too savage."
"Wiping out thirty fully armed Night Crows soldiers with just six combatants if the battles you fight are all like that, no sword, no matter how good, can withstand it."