When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#125 - Dwarf Halkin

"Sir, we have arrived at the campsite."

The wheels rolled forward, towards the cleared flat ground ahead, where a dozen townspeople were still helping to move supplies and clear the area.

In the center of the clearing lay the money and provisions for three days, enough for 1000 people, requisitioned by the town headman.

The duke's steward from the Mayo Mountain mine waited by the supplies with a beaming smile, occasionally shouting at the townspeople to hurry up.

The townspeople who had arrived early to help at the campsite watched the group of men in black with curiosity and apprehension.

This group of men in black were of all ages, each wearing at least one black garment.

Unlike the common, noisy refugees, these seasoned villagers always stood in somewhat disorganized but orderly lines.

Everything they did was methodical and efficient; in the blink of an eye, a campsite was set up.

This was the experience and skill honed during their journey, almost subconsciously ingrained as a habit.

Despite the duke's repeated assurances in his letter that they were a band of mercenaries he had hired.

The townspeople knew very well that they were the remnants of the rebel group that had fled into the Black Bone Swamp a month ago.

No one was a fool; just look at their hair and short beards.

They were used to the town headman being obsequious, but the mine steward was a close aide to the duke; there was no reason for him to be so deferential to mercenaries.

This further fueled the ominous feeling in the townspeople's hearts that the duke had recently been taking in many rebels under the guise of refugees.

Could it be that war was coming?

Amidst the whispers and strange glances of the townspeople, Hohn unloaded his luggage and led the procurement team towards Mayo Town.

Gregory walked in front, leading Hohn's horse, while the duke's mine steward accompanied them with a fake smile, chatting with Hohn.

It took about 30 minutes to walk from the campsite to Mayo Town.

Mayo Town was not actually that big, with a population of around 800-1000 people, mostly miners and ironworkers.

Most of the buildings in the town had chimneys and stoves, and were generally of earth-based wooden frame construction.

Typically, the first floor was made of rammed earth within a wooden frame, while the upper floors were pure wooden plank walls.

Stone houses were only for the knightly gentry.

These houses were generally two to three stories tall, with a horizontally placed triangular prism-shaped attic on top.

It was as if a red book was placed on top of a white rectangular shoebox.

Behind the residential houses were mostly animal pens, blacksmith shops, vegetable gardens, and dung pits.

On the gray-white walls of the rectangular exterior walls on both sides of the houses, a long wooden plank was installed diagonally between two pillars.

Due to the construction technology, the rectangular walls were not stable and had to be connected diagonally with wooden planks to form a triangle.

Otherwise, wind, snow, and rain could easily collapse these houses.

The width of the houses was approximately between 2 and 3 fathoms, because any wider and the triangle could not hold it together.

These houses were divided into small areas based on family, relatives, assets, and work, with dense and scattered houses within the areas and narrow roads outside.

According to the list written by Hohn, several elders and the bishop, guarded by the guards, dispersed into those narrow lanes.

Hohn and Jeanne followed the town headman to find the blacksmith.

The tip of the Cloud-Piercing Snow sword had broken after all; it was his familiar weapon, and if possible, Hohn wanted to have it repaired.

Lector's skills were too poor to handle this level of dwarven craftsmanship.

Arriving at Mayo Town, Hohn had only asked on a whim, but unexpectedly, there was indeed one.

"This dwarf is a Dragon Worship dwarf from the Dragon Spine Mountains; his craftsmanship is definitely top-notch."

Town headman Gregory introduced him as they walked.

"I thought this place specialized in mining and iron smelting?"

Jeanne d'Arc Castle was nominally a duchy, but in reality, it was only the size of a county, equivalent to two townships.

Among them, Mayo Town and Ash Furnace Town were related to the iron and steel industry; the former was responsible for mining and smelting, and the latter was responsible for forging and processing.

"Yes, our two towns are the two pearls of Jeanne d'Arc Castle's ironware industry, providing the duke with more than 4,000 gold pounds of income each year."

At the thought of Duke Cush's wealth and iron smelting, even the duke's lackey steward could not help but puff out his chest.

Hearing this, Hohn could not help but smile.

4,000 gold pounds, even based on the highest profit margin in the weapons industry for military weapons, would require selling 6,000 weapons.

Not to mention anything else, just the 300-plus miners in these 800 people could definitely not mine enough iron ore to supply 6,000 military weapons.

Besides that, no guild would allow a lord to do this; behind the guilds also stood priests and nobles.

"Shouldn't such a dwarven craftsman be in Ash Furnace Town?"

"There's a reason why he's here; the craftsmen in Ash Furnace Town have money and love to gamble, gambling dens are everywhere... Speaking of which, we're here."

Gregory stepped aside, revealing an alley in front of them.

The dwarf's blacksmith shop was located in this narrow alley.

The exterior walls of the blacksmith shop were shrouded in the black smoke of potions and the dust of ore slag.

A mottled wooden sign hung above the doorway, with rough lettering: "Brock's Blacksmith Workshop."

But at this moment, the quiet alley was filled with angry voices.

"You see, that's the reason," Gregory said with a wry smile.

"Halkin, open the door! I know you're inside!" A burly man with hairy arms was frantically hammering on the blacksmith shop's door.

"Repay your debts! Come out!"

"Get ready to throw dung, Halkin, don't blame me for not warning you, don't sleep too soundly at night!"

"Everyone, get out of the way, honored guests are here," the town headman roared at them.

The debt collector turned around and glared at Hohn.

"Which bastard..."

Before he could finish, he saw the four soldiers in breastplates behind the man, looking fierce.

Hohn was wearing a fine crimson satin robe, with a beautiful maidservant guarding him.

Beside him were the ever-obsequious old town headman and the duke's mine steward, both with flattering expressions.

The debt collector's leader's heart immediately skipped a beat.

"...Which bastard is shouting so loudly, disturbing the noble lord, can you bear the responsibility?!"

The debt collector's leader slapped his companion behind him to the ground with his hairy palm.

After smoothing things over, the debt collector immediately bowed: "My lord, we are a group of pitiful creditors; this family's youngest son owes us a large sum of money..."

"I'm not interested in listening," Hohn interrupted directly, "I'm here to have this family repair my knight's sword, do you understand what I mean?"

"Understood, understood, a good dog doesn't block the way, I'll leave immediately, immediately!" With a smile on his face, the three debt collectors fled as if their lives depended on it.

Hohn stepped forward and knocked on the door, while the town headman shouted: "Brock, I've brought an honored guest to see you, open the door quickly."

A figure flashed on the second floor, and soon, the door of the blacksmith shop opened.

Greeting them was a male dwarf about 4 feet tall, wearing a silk robe but with linen trousers and one heel missing.

The young dwarf's arms, neck, and thighs were as thick as each other, and his red beard hung down in front of his chest.

In his dark blue eye sockets, his eyes were as agile as a fox, which was rare among dwarves.

"Old town headman," the young dwarf said with a flattering smile.

Gregory pushed him inside: "We're here to find your father, lead the way."

The dwarf named Halkin was not annoyed, leading Hohn and others through the house to the backyard.

In the backyard, in addition to the vegetable garden and ditch, was a spacious and dark workshop.

The air was filled with the smell of burning wood and the stench of potions, and in the center of the room, under a large potion jar, the furnace emitted rolling heat waves.

In one corner of the workshop, various sizes of iron blocks, potion bricks, and charcoal were piled messily on the ground.

On the other side, various ironware and tools, such as hammers, pliers, and rulers, were placed on the iron workbench.

A red-bearded dwarf with a large head and thick neck was sitting dejectedly in front of the anvil, sweat soaking his coarse cloth work clothes covered with rust and scorch marks.

His hands were rough, forged and honed by the years as solid as iron and stone.

Seeing the old town headman arrive, he did not greet him, but just sat there silently.

The old town headman stepped forward to explain his purpose and handed over Hohn's Cloud-Piercing Snow.

After examining Cloud-Piercing Snow for a long while, the dwarf Brock shook his head in a muffled voice: "I can't repair this."

The town headman immediately asked anxiously: "How can you not repair it? This is dwarven craftsmanship."

"I can repair it, but I can't repair it," Brock looked at his son with a bruised face, "I'm old, and this place is not peaceful anymore, I'm leaving for my hometown the day after tomorrow, it will take at least ten days to repair this sword."

"Dad, I'm not going back to the Dragon Spine Mountains, there's nothing there but taverns," the young dwarf said anxiously.

Picking up a hammer and throwing it at Halkin, Brock said angrily: "You've made yourself like this, the debt collectors come to the door every day, if you don't go back to the Dragon Spine Mountains, are you going to stay here and be sold to the Flesh King's Court?"

Dodging the hammer in embarrassment, Halkin also had the classic stubborn dwarven personality: "I said I'm not going, I'm not going! Dad, I got some good treasures in Lava Rock City.

If they fall into those people's hands, they will definitely lower the price, and I still won't be able to pay off the debt. If I go to the pawnshop, I can definitely get a high price."

"As soon as you go out now, you'll be caught by the debt collectors, where are you going to pawn it?"

Halkin rolled his eyes and put his gaze on Hohn. He turned around and knelt at Hohn's feet:

"Noble lord, hire me as a guide, I don't want a penny.

I'll take you to Jeanne d'Arc Castle, I know this place terribly well, which brothel has beautiful and cheap prostitutes, which gambling den is interesting, I have a book in my head.

You leave the sword here, my dad won't leave, he'll stay here specifically to repair your sword, the repair fee and material fee, you don't have to pay a penny."

"Little beast!" Brock grabbed Halkin's collar with an iron hand and pulled him back, "You've lost all the dwarves' face, don't kneel."

Choked by the neck, Halkin was still struggling:

"My dad can still give away... give away a good sword or battle axe, and you'll get a 30% discount next time..."

Ten days?

Hohn will leave Jeanne d'Arc Castle at the latest in mid-November.

This is not too much of a hassle, Hohn is too lazy to have more twists and turns.

Ignoring Halkin, he looked into Brock's eyes: "If I send him to Jeanne d'Arc Castle, can you stay here and repair my sword?"

"I..." Brock was about to refuse, but seeing the pleading look in his son's eyes, he finally hesitated.

After thinking it over, he threw Halkin heavily on the ground, and finally relented: "I'll help you repair it, I don't want your repair fee or material fee, you just take this little bastard away."

"Worthy of my old man, there are many of my good qualities in him... Hey, hey, hey, I won't say it, I won't say it..."

ps there is another chapter