Chapter 90: Everyone Makes Mistakes (2)

The technique of shape-memory alloy metallurgy was a critical technology for crafting portable gear. It was an elite skill possessed only by the empire on this vast continent. Now, Sefira was going to have it too. And whose credit was that going to be? Keter’s

It would be delightful if Sefira acknowledged this and praised me, but life isn't that simple. People tend to mistake continued goodwill for entitlement. Who can say that I won’t be tossed aside after that? That’s why I need a safeguard—to prevent Sefira from changing and to block any fundamental betrayal.

Volkanus was frowning deeply. It was because he had understood why Keter was acting this way.

Well, I get that he doesn’t like this. To him, it probably looks like I don’t trust Sefira. Wait, I don’t trust them.

“Does this upset you? Well, suit yourself. If you don’t like it, then so be it.”

Keter had nothing to lose. It was true that having Sefira equipped with the technology for portable gear would be great, but there was no rule saying that the technology had to belong to Sefira.

Elves and dwarves may be rare, but they weren’t so rare that he couldn’t find one at all. Even if it was a little troublesome, he could always sign a contract with another dwarf to learn shape-memory alloy metallurgy and make them supply bows and arrows to Sefira as a vendor.

A bit of trouble is a small price to pay to protect my rights.

“You’re stricter than an elf and greedier than a dwarf. I’m starting to worry about Sefira’s future.”

“Sefira is in its current state because it lacked greed and strictness.”

“Ha! Always ready with a retort, aren’t you? Fine. If I can learn the technique for shape-memory alloy metallurgy, then the rights to the technology will be yours. The portable gear I craft will belong to you as well. So, what, Sefira has to buy them from you?”

“Grandpa, are you trying to paint me as a villain? I won’t charge them. I’ll merely lend them out.”

“Lend them...?”

While Volkanus thought about what that meant, Luke cut in. He had been glaring at Keter for a while now, clearly displeased about something.

“Keter, the mansion you live in, the food you eat, the servants you use—they’re all provided by Sefira. Sefira has never demanded money from you. Yet you plan to claim ownership of this technology?”

How could someone say something so utterly idiotic? Luke, you remind me of the principle of causality the old man always talks about. This must be fortune at work—there’s no other explanation.

By some stroke of luck, you became my partner because of your father’s choice. On top of that, you’re the son of Jacques, and you possess an enviable special ability. If even one of these factors weren’t true, I wouldn’t have kept you by my side, let alone bothered responding to your foolish remarks.

So is this good fate or bad? I don’t know, but I’ll still respond to this nonsense for now.

“The privileges I enjoy aren’t a product of Sefira’s goodwill; they are a noble’s rights. And noble rights are not granted by Sefira but by this world and the kingdom’s laws. Tell me, kid, did you really think Sefira has been supporting you? The taxes of this nation sustain you. You’re just a knight affiliated with Sefira.”

“...!”

“That’s why you’re still a kid. Just because you dislike something doesn’t make it illogical. If you lack logic, then you would better have strength. Do you think you can beat me?”

Luke stayed silent, but Keter could tell he was thinking.

He knows he wouldn’t win, but he doesn’t think he would lose completely, either. These people with good heritage always think they are the best with just a little praise. I’ve been too lenient with him because he’s Jacques’ son.

“That was lesson four: if you lack logic, then have strength. Then, whatever nonsense you spout will become the truth.”

“Why are you so harsh? Sefira is your family, your home. You could favor it a little more.”

Usually, Luke would back off by now, but today, he stood his ground.

Ha, good. Don’t back down. No matter who your opponent is, hold your ground. Even if they’re right, impose your will. Don’t live according to the world; make the world bend to you.

“That’s your opinion, not mine. To me, my family is just my family, and I am myself. If you don’t like it, then what should you do? Leave me. It’s simple. Want to change me? Then be stronger than me. But that’s impossible.”

“I don’t think it’s impossible.”

Click!

Keter clicked his finger.

“I like your confidence.”

Keter shifted his attention away from Luke.

So, what now? Are you going to challenge me? Will you confront me in front of Volkanus and all these smiths? Can you ignore everyone’s stares?

But Luke stepped back.

Ah, so you’re not there yet. What a pity.

“Grandpa, should I give you more time?” Keter asked.

“No, I understand. You’re...”

Volkanus paused, then stepped closer and whispered, “You’re anticipating betrayal from Sefira, aren’t you?”

“Let’s just say something like that.”

“Besil isn’t that kind of person... but you don’t know him. So I understand.”

Volkanus grabbed his hammer and declared, “By the soul of a blacksmith, I swear that the rights to the shape-memory alloy metallurgy technique will belong to you, Keter. I will inform Besil that the portable gear will be lent in your name and can be reclaimed or destroyed at your discretion.”

“Perfect”

“One last question. If we proceed with this, it will strain your relationship with Besil. When others learn the full story, they won’t look favorably upon you. Are you fine with that?”

“I stopped caring about others’ opinions a long time ago.”

“Ha! Talking like that when you’re not even twenty. You’re something else, kid.”

“Now, all of this is yours.”

Keter placed everything he had received from the Flying Wolf Tribe and the magic tools and portable gear he had gathered in Liqueur before Volkanus.

“How long will it take to analyze the technology?”

“Give me a moment.”

After inspecting the portable weapons, Volkanus confidently said, “Everything’s in good condition. As expected, the weapons from the Flying Wolf Tribe don’t have any security systems that destroy their structure or techniques upon disassembly. It’s a shame there’s no bow among the portable gear, but at least there’s a crossbow. Understanding the mechanism won’t be too difficult.”

“A week?”

“Not even with ten dwarf engineers could it be done that quickly. This isn’t my area of expertise. Just disassembling and analyzing it will take three months. Producing a prototype will take another month.”

“Not because of a lack of expertise or resources?”

“This is outside human capabilities. To save time, you would need to bring in veteran dwarf smiths. Materials won’t be an issue either. There’s enough for a prototype, though mass production is another story.”

It would have been ideal to showcase the portable gear at the Sword of the South Tournament, but that didn’t seem possible.

Volkanus and the other dwarves could make something similar if Keter rushed them, but that would be worse than not showing anything at all.

“I’ll assume the prototype will be ready after the Sword of the South Tournament.”

“Huh? Keter, are you participating in that too? From what I’ve heard, all the participants have already been decided.”

“I’m entering separately. Why do you ask?”

“Besil asked me to craft some greenstone arrows for the participants. He requested one hundred arrows, but I don’t think your share is included in that number.”

Greenstone was less hard than steel, it was a rare mineral known for its exceptional aura absorption. It was also highly adaptive to mana, making it a prime material for crafting magic tools. Because of these qualities, greenstone was nearly as expensive as amantir.

If just the arrowheads were made of greenstone, each arrow would cost around eight gold. If the entire shaft was also made of greenstone, the price would skyrocket to fifteen gold per arrow. That was the equivalent of a soldier’s monthly wage per arrow.

It was an uncharacteristically extravagant decision for Besil. Up until now, he had been meticulous about arrow quality but had never relied solely on performance enhancements like this. It was a testament to how serious he was about this Sword of the South Tournament.

As Volkanus pointed out, the fact that he was only making one hundred twenty arrows likely meant Keter wasn’t going to receive any. Archers usually carried thirty arrows, a number seen as a symbol of good fortune. It’s unlikely they would break tradition and make it an unlucky twenty.

"Besil is getting old now, so maybe he just forgot about you. Since you’re participating, should I make you your own batch of greenstone arrows?"

The corners of Volkanus’ lips twitched in amusement. It seemed like he was curious about how Keter would react to this discrimination, but he couldn’t care less.

“Do whatever you want.”

I don’t care what anyone else does, as long as it doesn’t cause me trouble.

* * *

The entrance to the forge was chaotic, as it was blocked by a group of knights.

At the head of the group was Gant, the commander of the Fourth Division of the Order of the Galaxy. After receiving word that Keter had entered the forge, he had stationed his knights to block the entrance and waited.

What made the scene even more striking was that every knight Gant had brought was a member of the Order of the Galaxy, the most elite force of the family.

“You won’t escape like last time, Lord Keter,” Gant said with an air of authority, but Keter let out a deep sigh.

“I told you already. There’s no need to rush. I’ll come when I feel like it. Just wait.”

Gant had mobilized five of the family’s best knights at a time when their strength was desperately needed just to block Keter’s path. Feeling the disapproving gazes from bystanders, his expression darkened.

He wanted to shout at Keter, as he felt Keter was the one who had made this into such a big deal. But Reganon had warned him that they wouldn’t be able to avoid criticism as the Order of the Galaxy was deployed for personal use. If Gant let the conversation with Keter drag on in public, it would only damage their side further.

“As a member of Sefira, how can you refuse an invitation from Lord Reganon, an elder? Please stop undermining the order of the family.”

“You must be in a real panic, huh? Should I go, or shouldn’t I? Go, or not?”

Grit.

Gant clenched his teeth hard. He wanted nothing more than to punch the smirk off Keter’s face as he shrugged his shoulders mockingly. But he knew that was exactly what Keter wanted.

Taking a deep breath, Gant suppressed his anger.

“Lord Reganon has

requested

your presence. Will you still refuse such an invitation?”

An elder’s request carried undeniable weight, even the patriarch couldn’t dismiss it lightly. The onlookers began murmuring among themselves.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but if it’s a request, shouldn’t he go?”

Gant smiled in satisfaction.

The public is on my side now. Keter, if you refuse here, I’ll have the justification to use force against you.

But it was a naive assumption to think Keter would yield to public opinion.

“Of course I’ll go if it’s the elder’s request. But, you know...”

With a finger on his chin, Keter dropped a bombshell.

“Can someone who’s in bed with Bydent really be called an elder?”

“...”

“..?”

Even the blacksmiths, who had been diligently working despite the commotion, froze in place.

A terrible silence descended over the forge, where hundreds had gathered. Everyone questioned what they had just heard.

Did Keter really just say what I think he said?

To remove any doubt, Keter kindly repeated himself.

“I'll listen to the elder's words, but there's no need to listen to a traitor's, is there?”

“Y-you!”

The moment Keter called Reganon a traitor, Gant's composure shattered. Normally, he would never make such a mistake, but this time, he failed to contain himself.

He should have calmly dismissed Keter as a lunatic. Instead, unable to hold back, he released an arrow in a flash. The arrow, charged with rage, pierced the air and flew straight at Keter.

In doing so, Gant had effectively admitted it—he had validated what Keter said as true.

The onlookers remained silent, but their thoughts were consumed by a single question.

Why did Sir Gant attack Lord Keter? Could it really be true that Elder Reganon joined hands with Bydent?

Even Gant himself realized his mistake, but it was too late. The arrow had already been released, and there was no way to take it back.

Damn it... If Keter dies, it’ll look like I acknowledged his accusations.

Panicking, Gant fired another arrow. A spiraling, high-speed arrow shot forward, moving more than five times faster than the first. It was Yaksha Archery, the sixth form of Zodiac Archery. His intention was to intercept his own first arrow mid-flight, but it was for nothing.

Amaranth appeared in Keter’s left hand, and a glowing arrow of aura materialized on its string. When Keter drew it back and released it, Gant’s first arrow was mere inches away from Keter’s bow.

Crack!

The Aura Arrow Keter fired obliterated Gant’s first arrow head-on. Then, it also collided with the second arrow that had been spiraling toward the first.

Boom!

The midair explosion from the collision sent shockwaves rippling outward, forcing the crowd to shield their eyes and recoil in fear.

Keter calmly swept back his windswept hair and licked his lips.

“Looks like it’s my turn now.”

On the string of Amaranth, a Demon Arrow formed.