I believed that I could do what I wanted even in this huge city. My father, who had been promoted, had become someone who trained new soldiers. My mother was doing her best to be a good wife to him and a good mother to us. As for me, I chose not to study. At that time, I had just turned ten. After all, I already knew everything the school could teach me. I couldn't suddenly find myself in an adventure as a completely ordinary person, aside from my reincarnation. I didn't want to be asleep when luck knocked on my door one day. So, I took a position as an apprentice next to the nearest blacksmith to our house.
The purpose of weapons is simple, and their designs are unique. As a blacksmith apprentice, I spent a large part of the day doing labor for my master Marcus and watching him. Master Marcus was a good blacksmith. He was in his fifties. He was bald due to hair loss, but he had quite impressive mustaches, which had also turned gray. He was of short stature, slightly overweight, and had a slight hunch. Since he had never married, he often worried about who he would entrust his work to. Still, he set those concerns aside and continued to do his job. Blacksmithing was a demanding job that didn't attract much attention. The reason for this, of course, was the items that could be produced with advanced technology. I should mention for those who don't know that blacksmiths don't just make weapons. They also create agricultural tools, kitchen knives, axes for chopping wood, nails, horseshoes, armors, and much more.
At least this was the case in the history of my own world. Now, many necessary goods are produced through workers in structures resembling factories established by some ritchis. These structures are located a bit further away from the city's living areas. Nevertheless, the importance of blacksmiths still endures in this world. Additionally, the Ucretnight kingdom personally covers a significant portion of the blacksmith's expenses as long as they produce enough weapons for themselves. Someone from the army collects the weapons prepared for them every month.
We talked quite a bit about blacksmithing. In the beginning, I wasn't doing much, but as the years went by, I gradually started to get involved in the work, like holding metal with tongs or preparing the oil quench. I would love to tell you all about it in intricate detail, but I don't think it can be understood without working. In the early days, I didn't even want to be near the forge. After spending seven years there, I had become a young man and could actively work alongside my master.
Of course, I was quite handsome. I kept my blonde hair short, and my green eyes had a hint of weariness. I wasn't very tall, but I wasn't short either. At least I was taller than master Marcus. I would be in the manufacturing area where the forge and everything else was located. Master Marcus, on the other hand, mostly stayed in an area where the weapons were displayed. He would greet customers when they arrived. The customer would either purchase one of the products on display or order a custom-made item from him. One day, a customer came to the blacksmith for such a purpose. He had ordered a dagger to skin the animals he hunted. Since it was a relatively easy job, master Marcus gave me full authority to handle it. I can't express how happy I was when I heard that for the first time. I had worked there for seven years, and I was finally going to do my first job. The customer had left some metal for the alloy of the dagger.
The piece of metal he left was in the shape of a small ingot. Its color resembled the greenish tone of moldy bread. Interestingly, it had a floral scent. I had never seen such a metal before. For some reason, I didn't want to use it. It was clear that it was something valuable, but the customer wanted this metal to be in his dagger.
Since my master was dealing with the customer, I hadn't seen him, but judging by the fact that he was hunting for it, he must have definitely been someone who went on adventures. Since the customer requested a hunting dagger from me, I decided to make a single-edged dagger. I strained my memories in my mind. I had been interested in weapons in my previous world as well. Even though there were moments when I thought about the possibility of heading off on an adventure instead of becoming a blacksmith, I could never rush into an adventure. Going on an adventure without a wallistics that would show the statistics on my identity is no different from committing suicide. In fact, I could have stolen my father's. He had received a wallistics for his identity as a gift after his promotion. I actually didn't need to steal it at all. If I had asked him, he would have definitely given me the device, but I didn't want to do that.
Going on an adventure meant being independent and I had a somewhat foolish belief that it was important to earn everything with my own money.
That's why I have been an apprentice blacksmith for years. Although it would be more accurate to say that I'm now a journeyman. I had finally decided what to do with the metal in my hands. The ideal type of dagger for hunting is a Bowie. So, I decided to make a Bowie. Thus, I started working to heat the forge. After all, I would be using three metals for the metal alloy: a low-carbon steel ingot, the ingot provided by the customer, and a small amount of gold dust to serve as a bridge for the two without compromising their structure. I had put all of these into a crucible and was waiting for them to melt.
About an hour had passed, and everything had just melted. I waited a few more minutes. At last, our alloy was ready. After preparing the alloy, I started using various machines to shape it. All I had to do was hold the dagger over the anvil and ensure it took shape while controlling the speed of the hammer-like machine that was shaping it. Then, the annealing phase began. I was heating the metal at regular intervals and cooling it down again. For detailed craftsmanship, I turned off the machine and took the hammer in my hand to strike it myself.
It was perfect for relieving stress.
After a few hours, I dipped the previously prepared dagger into the oil quench and watched it cool. For now, it looked like it was maintaining its shape, and there were no signs of cracking in the metal. If I had done this process with water, it would have definitely looked like the metal alloy was going to crack. There seemed to be a slight curvature in the part where I would attach the handle, but since I had used a low-carbon steel ingot, there wouldn't be any issues in shaping it. Now, I needed to shape this long and sturdy-looking alloy. For this, I moved toward the exact opposite of the forge. There was a laser cutting rod. I wasn't ready to use it yet, but there's no reward without risk. I just had to make sure not to create a hole in my fingers; I had already experienced that danger twice before I could get the shape I wanted.
After all these stages, I had also taken care of other tasks, like sharpening the dagger and preparing the handle. Even with the resources I had, it had taken me all day to make this dagger, and before I knew it, it was dark outside.
The next day was also the day when weapons were to be delivered to the kingdom, and master Marcus was waiting outside the forge to make the delivery. That's why I was alone. As soon as I heard the sound of the door opening, I turned my face toward it. A man stood there, wearing a rich-looking suit and sporting a single-pane glass, which older people often wear. He had a clean-shaven face and black hair that matched his suit. For some reason, his red eyes made my skin crawl as he glanced at me.
"Ritchi…"
It was very clear that the man was a ritchi.
If human kingdoms wanted to boast about something, it would be trade. Ritchis are the emperors of trade.
We could assume that they emerged a few decades ago, just like Ucretnight declared its independence. They are like living robots, capable of turning any situation into a pile of money. So much so that they have surpassed almost all noble families financially. Despite having more money than nobles, they are not powerful. As far as I know, many ritchis do not bother learning to fight. Those who do, of course, train to get the best education that their wealth can provide. Being rich must feel nice, but it likely doesn't compare to being noble.
After all, they possess some things that money can't buy. For instance, loyalty. It wouldn't be a wise decision to try to bribe someone who is tied to a noble family to speak, unless you are conversing with the right person. To give another example, a ritchis can buy a piece of land and become its owner, but they cannot "govern" that land. To do anything independently of a noble family, you need to be their enemy. Of course, the armies led by nobles are crucial for the strength of kingdoms, and probably no one else can receive the training they do.
"Is my dagger ready?"
When the man said this to me, I snapped back to reality and realized that the person who had ordered the Bowie dagger I'd made was this ritchi. I immediately opened a drawer and handed him the dagger, which was in a leather sheath. As I extended the dagger to him, I made sure to bow slightly. Even if he wasn't a noble, respect was due to the ritchis. Moreover, the men who had saved my father years ago were associated with a ritchi named Hanbel.
The man examined the dagger. He probably hadn't seen a design like this before, as the sparkle in his eyes was clearly evident. Looking at the greenish dagger, tiny glimmers could be seen on its surface. Adding a bit of gold dust had been the right decision. Ritchis loved to show off to the point of making even nobles envious. The sparkles on the dagger gave it an air of wealth. The man seemed pleased. After sheathing the dagger, he began to look at me. As he did this, he squinted his eyes and brought one hand to his chin. I sensed he was now perhaps studying me. Then, as if he suddenly became aware of it, he took a step back and began to scratch his head in a relaxed manner.
"Ah… I'm sorry for that. You reminded me of someone I know, but I couldn't figure out who it was."
"People tend to resemble each other."
"You might be right. Did you make this dagger? The design looks quite creative."
"Please, don't exaggerate, sir. It's just a dagger. I should be thanking you for that metal you provided. Since I had never seen such a metal before and it was my first job, I wanted to be a bit meticulous."
Speaking formally doesn't harm anyone. The man smiled at my words and put his hand on my shoulder. He seemed to warm up to me easily, as most ritchis are generally easy to understand. I suppose it's because they were once ordinary people like us. That's one thing don't like about nobles. They are used to seeing themselves above the common people, and someone growing up in such an environment inevitably adopts a condescending attitude toward ordinary people like me.
"I like it. You seem like a young man who enjoys working. What's your name?"
"Nell. Nell Warden, sir."
"Warden... That's why you look familiar to me. You are Jules Warden's son, aren't you?"
"Yes, but..."
When the man raised his hand, I felt the need to be quiet for some reason. Then, directing the hand he had raised toward himself, he said:
"There's no need to talk, boy. You call me Hanbel. I made a promise to that man to visit him one day. Get permission from your master today, and let's go to his house together."
Who could have known that meeting Hanbel would be the starting point of my mediocre adventure?