Translator: CinderTL
Upon hearing these words, Roland frowned deeply.
He wasn't entirely ignorant of the Dwarven Kingdom's social system.
Similar to the Golden Valley Kingdom's noble hierarchy, it rigidly stratified society into distinct classes.
However, unlike the Golden Valley Kingdom, where military merit could at least earn one a noble title, the Dwarven Kingdom's class barriers were far more rigid.
Their system relied on an almost immutable caste system.
One's birth determined their life's trajectory, leaving virtually no possibility of upward mobility.
Griffin's words also revealed a crucial detail: the Dwarf Royal Family wielded far greater and more unquestionable authority than human nobles.
Even skilled forging masters must rely on the Royal Family's favor for survival... Roland mused inwardly, shaking his head in resignation. He ventured to ask, "Then... Master Griffin, what about... enchanters?"
"Enchanters?" Griffin raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
Noticing the lack of surprise in Griffin's eyes, Roland raised an eyebrow and pressed further.
"If I were an enchanter, could I use that status to obtain those rare metals?"
"Boy..." Griffin narrowed his eyes. "I don't know where you heard about enchanters, but..."
The word "enchanter" seemed to stir a memory in Griffin.
The burly dwarf didn't delve deeper, merely sighed heavily and waved his hand dismissively.
"Back in the old days? Enchanters might have been treated like honored guests by those royal bastards. The rulers back then still had some sense left. But now? Hmph..."
He smacked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of wine, his voice tinged with helplessness.
"To be honest, just a year ago—even earlier—several enchanters appeared in the Dwarven Kingdom. But even with their unparalleled skills, those bastards didn't give them the time of day!"
"So, even if you really are some kind of enchanter..." Griffin's tone dripped with sarcasm.
"To get your hands on those precious metals, you'd probably have to wag your tail like a lapdog, groveling for a pitiful few scraps..."
As he spoke, a fleeting glimmer of nostalgia flickered in the Dwarf Forging Master's eyes, quickly replaced by weariness. He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly.
"Alright, kid, I've got work to do. You've kept me long enough..."
"I understand, Master Griffin. Thank you for your explanations."
Sensing the dismissal in the dwarf's tone, Roland abandoned his plan to reveal his identity as an enchanter. He bowed slightly and turned to leave the room.
As the door closed softly behind him, Roland's brow furrowed even deeper. He had hoped his status as an enchanter would open doors, especially when it came to acquiring those rare metals. But Griffin's words had doused his hopes like a bucket of cold water.
In the Dwarven Kingdom, the title of "enchanter" seemed to have lost its former prestige. He sighed helplessly.
Before coming to the Blacksmith's Guild, while helping Hoby request leave, he had already inquired about this with Nielsen.
Even the Merchant Faction of the River Domain Nations, known for their diplomatic finesse, had been unable to secure a reliable source of mithril or adamantine.
Within the Dwarven Kingdom, these metals were treated as strictly controlled strategic resources, only symbolically presented in small quantities during major festivals or as gestures of friendship between nations.
As Roland pondered this, his hand instinctively drifted to the hilt of the Mithril Longsword at his waist.
It seemed the sword's true value far exceeded his initial estimates.
"Ordinary metals can't withstand the surging magic... It seems the only way to obtain rare metals might be to inquire through the Adventurer's Guild, using our status as an A-Rank Adventurer Group..."
Just as he was lost in thought, the heavy thud of footsteps interrupted his musings.
Looking up, he saw Noel approaching.
The dwarf's face lit up with a warm smile upon seeing Roland.
This smile was different from the professional courtesy he usually showed guests, lacking the practiced formality and radiating genuine sincerity.
"Mr. Roland," Noel greeted him.
"Ah, Noel... it's you."
"Thank you for your help earlier," Noel said, bowing slightly before lowering his voice. "I couldn't help but overhear... you need mithril? Please forgive my intrusion."
Noticing Roland's gaze, Noel quickly waved his hands in explanation. "I wasn't eavesdropping intentionally! It's just..." He pointed to his ear and then nodded toward Griffin's tightly shut door, his meaning unmistakable.
Griffin's thunderous voice made it impossible not to hear.
But Roland paid little attention to these details. The hidden implication in Noel's words made his eyes light up slightly as he asked softly, "Noel, from what you're saying... do you have a way to obtain these rare metals?"
"To be honest..." Noel scratched his head sheepishly. "My family operates mithril mines in the Dwarven Kingdom. Aside from the complete ores we deliver to the Royal Family, our daily operations always leave behind... well... scraps."
Seeing Roland's expression, the impeccably mannered dwarf quickly added, "
"Please don't misunderstand! These scraps aren't waste material, they're just... not top-grade quality, and the pieces are smaller."
Noel's meaning couldn't have been clearer.
Roland's heart quickened slightly, but his expression remained impassive. He asked calmly, "If that's the case... why aren't you selling them to someone else? I imagine..."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips as his sharp gaze locked onto Noel.
"Even if the quality is slightly inferior, mithril is still mithril, right? There must be plenty of buyers."
"To be honest with you, Mr. Roland," Noel said, shaking his head slightly. "These scraps are very limited in quantity, and... the art of refining mithril is only mastered by the dwarves. So, there aren't many who truly recognize its value and are willing to buy it."
Roland nodded knowingly, cutting to the chase.
"Then let's get straight to the point, Noel. What price must I pay to acquire these mithril scraps?"
Hearing such a direct question, Noel's face didn't light up with joy as expected. Instead, he seemed somewhat flustered.
But remembering his father and elder brother's instructions, the dwarf's cheeks flushed slightly. His fingers unconsciously rubbed together as he spoke with a hint of apology in his voice.
"Just... coins will do, Mr. Roland."
Roland's eyebrows lifted slightly at this request.
He had expected the other party to seize the opportunity to demand harsh terms, but instead, they only wanted money.
Although the price hadn't been discussed yet, Roland knew that even scrap mithril, tightly controlled by the Dwarf Royal Family, would command a steep price.
However, for him at this moment, that wasn't a problem.
"Just coins, then..."
Roland had already made up his mind, but he pretended to ponder the matter.
"That shouldn't be too difficult. However, I'll need to inspect the scrap mithril first to ensure it meets my requirements."
"You can rest assured about that!"
Seeing Roland's willingness to negotiate, Noel let out a long sigh of relief, clearly uncomfortable with this clandestine deal.
"I'll inform my family to send over a few samples for your inspection. Once you've confirmed the quality, we can discuss the price."
"Agreed!"
Observing Noel's awkward attempts at negotiation, Roland chuckled softly and nodded, extending his hand.
"Then it's settled, Noel. Pleasure doing business with you."
(End of the Chapter)
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