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No one could deny that it was the most powerful military force on the continent.

Each of its generals was exceptionally skilled, and even its ordinary soldiers were on par with elite troops from other kingdoms.

However…

“Was Pakilonte really someone who could be killed so easily?”

“I never liked his twisted personality, but he wasn’t weak. He even had two thousand soldiers with him…”

“But if that force was defeated by a mere hundred men, isn’t that a serious problem?”

A mere hundred men.

Despite the success of the ambush, two thousand soldiers were forced to retreat.

This caused deep furrows to form on the brow of Arken, the 2nd Legion Commander of the Cartellia Empire.

The fury in his eyes made his subordinates quick to avert their gaze.

But then.

“If this is about that incident, Captain Pakilonte certainly deserves punishment, but there’s no use in chastising the dead. What we should be considering now is who killed Captain Pakilonte.”

At the sound of a voice, all eyes turned toward its source.

It was Baretlin, known as the brain of the 2nd Legion.

She looked at Arken, who was glaring at his subordinates, and spoke.

“According to the information we gathered from the returning soldiers, the force that attacked Captain Pakilonte’s troops was the Baroque Kingdom’s Caion Unit.”

“The Caion Unit?”

He hadn’t heard of this unit before.

If they were deployed on the front lines, they must possess considerable strength.

Arken looked at Baretlin, signaling her to continue.

“From what I’ve learned, the Caion Unit is a newly established force, not even a year old. It’s possible that the Baroque Kingdom has caught on to some of our intentions.”

Everyone focused intently as Baretlin continued.

“The reason they managed to force two thousand soldiers into retreat with just a hundred wasn’t because they were overwhelmingly strong. The truth is, once the commander was lost, the soldiers simply followed protocol and retreated. Had the battle continued, the Caion Unit would have been annihilated.”

“Major Baretlin.”

Arken, who had been listening, called out to her.

She turned to face him at the sound of his low voice.

Arken spoke.

“So, what are you trying to say? That those who returned after their defeat are not at fault? The grand army of the Empire was defeated and couldn’t even stand up to a mere hundred men.”

“What’s important is who is commanding that Caion Unit. It was their leadership that ultimately drove back our forces.”

“Do you know their identity?”

At Arken’s question, Baretlin shook her head.

“Unfortunately, we have yet to identify them. However, we have agents within the Baroque Kingdom who are gathering new information, so it won’t be long before we find out.”

Although there had been a minor setback, it was crucial not to repeat the same mistakes.

Moreover…

“Now that General Fiarentale is personally taking action… the situation on the continent is bound to change.”

Arken’s gaze grew cold at Baretlin’s words.

Fiarentale, an Aura Master who could be considered an army in his own right.

If such an Aura Master was personally moving…

“We must act quickly, then.”

When the Empire began its advance across the continent, they had to be at the forefront.

At Arken’s words, everyone present nodded.

* * *

“I need your help, Torrel.”

“…My help?”

Upon hearing Torrel’s request for his true intentions, Damian spoke honestly.

The coming conflict with the Empire.

In such a struggle, having a blacksmith who could craft exceptional weapons would be invaluable.

“This is my honest intent. I believe that someone as talented as you shouldn’t be left to collapse like this.”

“Is that really all?”

It was Torrel who seemed more surprised.

Was he really saying he had come all this way to help him just for that?

Torrel’s voice trembled slightly.

“If that’s all, then isn’t that already a huge deal?”

How difficult it was to find a comrade who shared the same goal.

Damian spoke to Torrel.

“I can provide you with all the support you need. A forge for your work, and everything necessary for your life.”

“……”

His black skin.

Torrel had endured so much discrimination due to his dark skin.

That was why he had to work even harder than others.

He reduced his sleep and relentlessly researched ways to improve his skills.

But despite his efforts, society refused to see him for his abilities.

Even his own mentor betrayed him and cast him aside.

Yet here was this young man, whom he had never met before, saying he believed in him.

Thud.

Torrel knelt on one knee before Damian.

He wasn’t a soldier or a knight, so he didn’t care about such formalities.

But one thing was certain.

‘How could I not follow someone who believes in me?’

Having never been acknowledged before, Damian’s belief in him was more meaningful than anything.

Torrel spoke to Damian.

“I will smelt this Amantatium and prove my skills to you. And… I hope I can be of some help on the path you’re trying to take.”

Someone once said,

Men are beings who grow on “recognition.”

More than gold or jewels, it is the belief of those who acknowledge them that moves men.

Torrel, experiencing trust for the first time, felt more exhilarated than ever.

And so, the excitement Torrel felt soon transformed into a burning passion.

“Then, I’ll get back to my work.”

Torrel, gripping his hammer with a determined look, spoke resolutely. Damian quietly stood up and made his way out of the forge.

Just before leaving, he turned back.

“I’m counting on you.”

“Yes.”

It was a short reply, but it carried a significant weight of determination.

Leaving the sound of Torrel’s hammering behind, Damian turned and headed toward where Diel was.

* * *

“What did you just say?”

“I requested a sword made of Amantatium.”

At Wiltron’s question, Diel calmly replied. Then, turning to face the people gathered in front of the forge, she spoke.

“I’ve never seen it myself, but there are many here who have seen a finished Amantatium sword. And it was made by you, Meister Wiltron. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, I made that Amantatium sword.”

“That’s why I’m making this request.”

Diel’s eyes glinted sharply.

“There are probably less than ten blacksmiths in the entire kingdom capable of smelting Amantatium… Is it wrong for me to make such a request to someone like you?”

“That’s not it, but…”

Wiltron’s eyes wavered slightly.

Seeing his troubled expression, those gathered around began to look puzzled.

“…Is there any reason to refuse the request?”

“And it’s not just anyone making the request—it’s the vice-chair of Hamel Trading.”

The trading company and the blacksmiths had a symbiotic relationship.

And it was only natural.

Blacksmiths needed their weapons to sell well to earn money, and with that money, they could continue their work.

Even artisans can’t continue their craft without money.

Recently, the influence of the rapidly rising Hamel Trading was considerable.

However…

“…I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that request. The truth is, I injured my wrist while smelting Amantatium.”

“An injury?”

Diel asked with wide eyes.

Wiltron sighed softly.

“Phew, I didn’t want to admit it out of embarrassment, but the strength of Amantatium was too much, and I injured myself during the smelting process. So right now, I can’t take on a commission to make a sword from Amantatium.”

“Oh, if that’s the case.”

“That makes sense; that would be a reason to decline.”

People nodded in agreement at Wiltron’s words.

It was a plausible explanation, and if that was the reason, it made sense to refuse the request.

But Diel hadn’t cared whether Wiltron accepted the commission or not.

What mattered was that, due to the rumors spread by Damian, Wiltron was now in a position where he had to respond to the request in some way.

‘Using an injury as the excuse… a perfect cover.’

It was a suitable and tactful way to handle the situation.

Diel spoke.

“Hmm, I see. Then I suppose there’s no helping it.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Not at all. And just to be clear, I assure you that there will be no repercussions for declining this request. Hamel Trading will continue to maintain good relations with the artisans of Miltobern, so there’s no need to worry.”

“Thank you.”

Wiltron bowed his head, and those who had been watching nodded approvingly at Diel’s gracious conduct.

“It seems the rumors about the vice-chair of Hamel Trading being a person of character were true.”

“Yeah, she’s even more impressive than the rumors suggest.”

“I didn’t expect her to be such a magnanimous person.”

People were amazed by Diel’s behavior, which was different from that of most powerful individuals.

Diel smiled faintly and bowed to the people around her.

But then.

“Oh… but, one more thing.”

As she was about to leave, Diel turned back to look at Wiltron. However, her body was already facing the other people.

She glanced at Wiltron briefly and then turned back to the crowd, speaking in a low voice.

“If the apprentice blacksmith Torrel, who is currently smelting Amantatium… succeeds without injury, can we really continue to call him an apprentice?”

“……”

“That’s…”

A sudden silence fell over the crowd.

Diel looked around at the people and spoke.

“Amantatium is so hard and difficult to smelt that even Meister Wiltron suffered an injury. But if he succeeds in smelting it… wouldn’t it be right to overlook his past actions and acknowledge him, to show that Miltobern is truly a city of master craftsmen?”

“But… that doesn’t erase the fact that he stole precious Amantatium to smelt.”

“Frankly, I find that hard to believe. It’s odd to think that someone could steal Amantatium, a metal that takes so long to smelt… and do so right under Meister Wiltron’s nose.”

“…Huh?”

“Now that you mention it… something does seem off…”

The atmosphere grew tense.

Wiltron’s expression began to harden.

And from his expression alone, Diel could sense the situation clearly.

It would be easy to provoke the people further, but…

“However, discussing past mistakes won’t benefit anyone. It would also be disrespectful to Meister Wiltron, who has held the hammer for so long.”

Diel looked at Wiltron as she spoke.

“However, the matter of the Amantatium is between Wiltron and Torrel. If Meister Wiltron is willing to forgive him, then it could be as if it never happened. Don’t you agree?”

With a faint smile on her lips, Diel spoke to Wiltron.

All avenues of retreat were now closed, leaving only one path forward.

‘This is what you intended, wasn’t it, Damian?’

Diel thought of Damian’s words and looked at Wiltron.

In response to Diel’s question…

“…Yes. If Torrel succeeds in smelting the Amantatium… then he must be acknowledged as no longer just an apprentice, but as a master craftsman of Miltobern.”

Wiltron, seeing no other option, announced this declaration to the crowd.

And immediately, Diel responded.

“Indeed, Meister Wiltron’s generosity is truly commendable. Now, let’s…”

Diel turned her gaze toward the forge where Torrel was working.

“Wait for the birth of a new master craftsman.”

With this, she put the final stamp on the matter.