Soon after our group went through the gates, we were guided towards the largest house in the settlement. There, a few soldiers broke off from the main group to take care of our horses and baggage. When we entered the house, we were greeted by the sight of around a dozen people gathered around a dinner table. On the table was a large homely dinner of stew, bread, and beer. 

“Uncle, I brought guests,” the watchman announced when he entered the room. “They said that they’re here on the order of the Doux to help us.”

I did not manage to figure out who the uncle was at that time. The main reason being that all the elderly men had begun voicing their opinions before the watchman even finished his sentence. In that room, I was bombarded with a cacophony of statements such as ‘are they eating with us?’, ‘do you think they will be able to help?, and ‘those are some cute girls.’

“One at a time please,” I complained after the wave of sound hit me. “We can hardly understand anything.”

The room suddenly turned quiet, the air slightly ominous. While some of the occupants were glaring at me, most were looking at me in amusement. 

Out of all of the residents, a 50 year old man with coarse black hair spoke up. “You’re making a lot of noise for a runt with a broken arm.”

“Uncle calm down,” the watchman said to no avail.

Due to his declaration, the other villagers were now brimming with interest. I wouldn’t doubt that they would have started placing bets if the situation allowed for it. In comparison, my companions were shocked by his remark, particularly Minerva who was now a violent shade of red. If I don’t defuse the situation, things might turn out disastrously. Still, I wonder if he’s actually hostile towards me or just trying to test my character.

“Now that’s not very nice,” I said with an easy smile. “I’m rather delicate as you can tell.”

For now, my plan is to just trade jokes with him until he cracks. If he gets angry, then I can challenge him to a physical contest that’s in my favor. If he tries to back off, I can either continue my offensive or reconcile with him. And there’s always the chance that he might find my behavior endearing. 

“Did you break your arm after falling from your horse?” the man mocked.

“That’s right,” I replied with a laugh. “Didn’t help that there were a dozen bandits trying to kill me.”

“And you defeated them?” the man asked jokingly.

“No, I just politely asked them to leave me alone,” I said cheekily. 

Standing up from his chair, the burly man walked over to me while sizing me up. Seeing that my party was somewhat tense, I raised my hand to signal for them to stand down. 

And although I was maintaining a relaxed look, I was carefully observing the watchman’s uncle for any suspicious behavior. 

But before he reached me, the man bent his back and started to laugh profusely.

“Shit, my bad,” he guffawed. “You’re either a real hardened soldier or just a madman. But either way, I give up.”

“C’mon uncle, you could’ve gone a bit closer,” I joked. “Am I that ugly?”

Due to the absurdity of the situation, a number of the people in the room started laughing as well, though Minerva was not among them.

“Sorry about testing you there,” the man said while bowing. “I’ve been harassed by far too many noble brats with inflated egos throughout my life. But that’s just an excuse.”

“And I’ve dealt with way too many grumpy old men that try to size me up impolitely,” I added in a friendly tone. “But it’s fine. I’d just like for us to cooperate from now on.”

“Well I have no choice,” he replied while shrugging. “How about you join us for dinner then?”

“Sure,” I answered.

Before sitting down at the table, I pulled Minerva to the side for a private discussion.

“Thanks for staying calm there,” I said while smiling at the dark elf.

“I don’t think I was,” Minerva sighed. “I was a hair’s breadth from fighting him.”

“Glad you didn’t then,” I chuckled. “You ok now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Minerva replied. “I’m sorry but can I rant for a bit?”

“Now this might be interesting,” I thought before telling her to proceed.

“Maybe I’m being unreasonable but I really hate those types of people,” Minerva complained. “I’ve had to deal with so many old farts who act condescending towards me just because I’m young. The worst thing is that they always hide behind their position of power and act like nothing happened when you confront them.”

“I know what you mean,” I reassured her while patting her back. “Though I’m glad that our friend here still retains his sense of reason.”

“Well I’m glad you handled things effectively,” Minerva commented. “Hopefully things go on smoothly from here.”

“Don’t say that now,” I jokingly chided. “You’re going to bring bad luck down on us.”

Once we finished our little side conversation, the two of us went back to the main room for dinner. And strangely enough, Minerva and I were seated right by one another. I was also informed that the watchman’s uncle is a sort of leader for the village since he’s the most senior smith. 

“So are you ready to talk business?” I asked the village leader while I was receiving a flagon of beer. 

“And here I thought we could enjoy dinner for a bit,” he sighed. “But I understand that you might be in a rush. So ask away.”

“First of all, what’s the problem with steel production?” I asked him.

The man gave me an exhausted smile. “The first problem is that there’s more than one problem.”

“I guess you can start by listing them then,” I replied. 

He sighed. “The least significant f our concerns is the compromised road safety, but it’s still better than before. Apart from that, our supply of ore is low due to the lack of miners. And the worst thing is our inability to get enough ferrosaur parts for our furnaces.”

“Ferrosaurs?” I wondered. “Haven’t heard of those before.”

“It’s a sort of lizard-like monster,” he informed me. “We use it’s scales and intestinal contents as fuel for our furnaces.”

“What in the absolute fuck,” I accidentally shot out in my confusion. “All the monsters I’ve ever hunted have only been good for trophies or food. Is a ferrosaur a greater monster?”

“It’s not,” Minerva chimed in. “But calling it a lizard isn’t the best description. It’s much closer to a wolf  in size. And it supplements its diet of plants with stone and metals as well.”

“You learn something new everyday,” I remarked. “And here I thought that foglings were the strangest things in existence.”

“I don’t even know what those fog thingys are,” the village leader commented. “But if you’re curious about why ferrosaurs aren’t overhunted, it’s because the local government in Safra is in charge of maintaining the population. On top of that, our villages are one of the few places that purchase the body parts of ferrosaurs.”

“Do smiths in other places not like using ferrosaurs for fuel?” I asked.

Perhaps I had ignited the man’s passion for his trade, since he was brimming with excitement to teach me about the importance of ferrosaurs. “Very few people are capable of working with ferrosaur fuel because of its volatility and how hot it can get. More importantly, you need specially built facilities to work with it.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me trade secrets?” I wondered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied confidently. “If you don’t know the techniques, it’s pretty much impossible. And even if you have the technique, getting the necessary materials is hardly an option.”

“So you’re saying it’s still possible to reproduce your works outside of this region?” I asked. 

“It’s been done before,” he said nonchalantly. “But the scale was too small to compete with us. Instead, they just ended up spreading our name and attracting more customers to us.”

“Well let’s get back to our original discussion,” I said, my curiosity about rock lizard monsters now whetted. “The first two problems aren’t much of an issue. Plans are already in motion for safer roads, and Minerva here can take care of any labor issues that you have.”

“Well that’s mostly good,” he answered. “But the issue of ferrosaur supplies is heavily tied to the Katepan of Safra.”

“Why don’t you just get ferrosaurs by yourself if they live in these mountains?” one of the soldiers accompanying me suggested.

The entire village population in the room slowly turned towards the man and just looked at him as though he had suffered a head injury.

“You see,” the village leader said while putting his hands together in a triangle. “We like being alive so we can smith. Hunting ferrosaurs tends to overcomplicate that issue. So we get professional monster hunters from the Labor Bureau in Safra to help us.”

Since the ferrosaurs supposedly have a native population in this area, it’s likely that the local people have developed a tradition of hunting these creatures. Which is probably why the Bureau in Damask is not responsible for providing the smithing villages with supplies. 

“So has the Katepan in Safra been giving you trouble?” I asked the villagers. 

It seemed as though I hit the mark since the entire room erupted with anger. All of the villagers began saying things such as ‘it’s more than just trouble,’ ‘I hope he chokes and dies,’ and ‘that man doesn’t have the word fair in his vocabulary.’

“Can I get specifics please?” I requested. “Death threats don’t count.”

Unexpectedly, one of the younger men spoke up instead of the appointed leader. 

“Trading for ferrosaur parts has become increasingly unfavorable,” he told us. “The Katepan is charging a fourth more than usual. And he forces us to sell our weapons to him so he can sell them to Damask for us. At the very least, the money he gives us for selling our goods is equal to what we would get from merchants that normally deal in our goods.”

“But he doesn’t sell any weapons to Damask,” I said in confusion. “Nor is he paying the taxes to the government in Damask for his sales.”

“Well shit,” the man replied. 

The room went silent as everyone just stared and blinked at one another. 

“Looks like we’re onto something,” I said, breaking the silence. “By the way, is there a good amount of people that travel here to make purchases?”

“Not really,” the senior smith informed me. “Maybe one or two people in a few months. But our sales are mostly custom orders and standardized items sold to Safra.”

That mostly makes sense since traditionally, most Damask steel weapons were sold to merchants in the city where they would then travel to markets around the world. It’s also interesting to note that Damask steel is not produced elsewhere because the mountains north of Safra are ore deficient while the western side of the mountains is the leeward side, making it unsuitable for settlement. 

“So how are we going to go about this?” Minerva asked me while we were finishing up dinner.

I thoughtfully scratched at my cheek before giving her the plan that I had formulated. “I want you to take everyone back to the city and get laborers over here to do mining work. I also need you to assemble two dozen soldiers. I’m going to need extra help when I confront the Katepan of Safra.”

“Two dozen soldiers?” Minerva asked in shock. “Do you think it’s that dangerous?”

“If he’s willing to go behind our back and sell weapons while avoiding taxes, then he might be willing to resort to violence to maintain his position,” I pointed out. “If he’s innocent, I can just say that I brought the soldiers to clear the road of dangers. Besides, I need to do things safely, particularly due to the sorry state that I’m in.”

“I see,” Minerva sighed. “By the way, how’s your arm?”

“Still quite broken,” I laughed. “It might take more than a month to heal up.”

“I’ll get you some milk when we’re back in Damask,” Minerva said with a smile. “You’re staying here right?”

“Yeah, I want to get more information from the surrounding villages,” I answered. “Plus I want to see a ferrosaur.”

“I knew it,” Minerva chuckled. “Just be careful when you go ferrosaur sighting. Those things are real dangerous.”

The following morning, Minerva and I went to inspect the mining area with the administrative staff. Once we were finished surveying the area, Minerva took the rest of our party and journeyed back to Damask. As for me, I could finally receive my tour around the area. 

Since I had gone up towards the mountains to check out the mines, I had a rough understanding of the area. Facing Damask was the windward side of the mountain range. As such, this side had a fair amount of vegetation. However, there were areas where plant life was sparse while rocks and ore were plentiful. Due to the nature of the ore dispersion, mining here mostly revolved around excavating surface deposits, though there are a few quarries where materials are extracted. Additionally, the villagers take advantage of the water running down from the mountain to set up small farms as well as harvest wild plants that grow on the mountain.

After Minerva left, I found myself staying at the home of the senior blacksmith, Vorn. The best part of the stay was that Vorn brought me along to the smithy to witness the process of forging a Damask steel blade.

Luckily for me, I got to witness the process of creating the famous steel. Said process begins with high quality iron ore being melted inside a massive furnace. The fuel in question was a ground mixture of dull metallic scales along with a slurry of partially digested plant matter and  metal bits. 

When the mixture met with fire, it immediately blazed with incredible heat. Compared to the smithies that I had visited before, the temperature was something beyond unprecedented. The heat radiating from the furnace felt as though it could rival the surface of the sun. 

“If you get queasy you should leave the building,” Vorn warned me. “I recommend using the water powering the bellows to cool yourself off if you need to.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. 

Along with the iron, a mixture of coke, lime, and mythril were added to the furnace. Strangely, I had never heard of Damask steel having effects on the flow of magical currents. 

“What’s the reason for adding mythril?” I asked Vorn. 

“It’s not for deflecting magic fire, unfortunately,” he informed me. “But it makes rusting near impossible and improves the strength without affecting flexibility.”

“So I guess magic deflecting swords are still a distant dream,” I commented. “By the way, does adding too much mythril cause a blade to lose its edge quickly.”

“Pretty much,” he informed me. “And now for the most exciting part of the process: waiting.”

I was completely lied to. Instead of sitting down and drinking a beer, Vorn and the other smiths proceeded to carefully watch over the metal and tweak the bellows to maintain a perfect temperature. As for me, I couldn’t tell what the perfect temperature was. I just know that it falls under the range of horrifyingly hot.

If I was trying to steal trade secrets, I definitely would have failed. Although I was quite interested in the process of making Damask steel, the hours spent heating then cooling the steel left my brain in shambles. Even after dinner had ended, the smiths were still going to check on their batch of steel, which was supposedly going to be cooled into the night. 

Apparently, the smiths would take a portion of the steel and spend the next few days forging the metal into blades. This would involve hours of tempering, folding, and hammering. During this time, the steel would develop its trademark wavy texture. Once the blades were mostly finished, the weapons would be given to specialized polishers in the village. 

But since I had the very important task of gathering information from the other villages and finding a ferrosaur, I decided to leave Camil the following day. Coming along with me as my guide was Vorn's nephew, the watchman Aron. 

“How come you’re not a smith or polisher like the rest of your family?” I asked the young man as we were traveling to the southern villages. 

Aron gave me a tired look, possibly having heard this question all too often. “So you know how some people are just awful at all forms of music? My situation is something like that.”

“Ah my bad,” I replied with an apologetic smile. “I guess I have a similar affliction when it comes to poetry.”

“You get rejected by a girl over a bad poem?” Aron jokingly asked. 

“Not quite,” I told him. “I wrote a love poem once. When I read it after taking a day-long break, I almost wretched.”

“The real question is whether you got with the girl or not,” Aron pointed out. 

“I did,” I replied with a laugh. “But got refers to the past.”

“So what about the present?” he asked me while smiling.

“Let’s just say that I’m unmarried for a reason,” I joked. 

The two of us continued to have our fun as we traveled up and down the countryside visiting the other villages. And unfortunately, neither the settlements to the south nor the north had any worthwhile information. While the settlement to the south were mostly independent and slightly influenced by Camil, the two northern villages appeared to be meekly under the control of the Katepan of Safra. Nonetheless, there were clear signs of discontent amongst the smiths that weren’t under the employ of the Katepan. 

It was during the trip to the northern settlements that I finally got to see a ferrosaur. As Aron and I were traversing by the foot of the mountain, we spotted the sight of a herd of moving rocks. Once we got closer, I realized that the dully grey chucks were actually ferrosaurs.

Just like Vorn had told me, the ferrosaurs looked exactly like a lizard. The only issue was that said lizard was around two meters and a half meters in length and covered in dull grey metallic scales. Additionally, the maw of the creature was filled with vicious looking teeth specialized for grinding and crushing. If those jaws could crush loose stone, then I’m certain it would mangle a person without even trying.

“So how do you kill something like that?” I asked Aron as we watched the herd of lizard like rocks crawl along. 

“The trick is to separate one from its herd then drag it away with a metal hook on a long stick,” Aron told me. “Then the hunters will beat the creature to death with blunt weapons or flip it over and pierce the soft underbelly.”

“Sounds logical,” I remarked. “How dangerous is it?” 

“I don’t know the specifics,” Aron replied. “I just know that our villages have others perform the task for a reason.”

“So you’re saying that I have a chance,” I laughed. 

Luckily for Aron, I did not drag him into a lizard chase and instead proceeded to tour the region like a good guest. 

Since my tour took a total of two days, I still had plenty of time before reinforcements from Damask arrived. And so I passed my time helping the villagers in Camil with housework, playing with kids, exercising, and plotting my plan to deal with the Katepan of Safra. 

After three days, I finally saw the sight of a mass of soldiers arriving at Camil. Unfortunately, Gallup was still absent from the city and the group was led by one of his subordinates instead. Though he did inform me that his captain was making significant headway in the east as of now.

Due to Minerva remaining in the city to organize more labor for the mines, I decided to immediately lead the soldiers towards Safra in the north.

For around a day and half, my troops and I marched along the plains towards the border town. 

Unlike many other towns, Safra had defenses worthy of a fortress. Serving as a trade stop with Lycia during peacetime and an important bastion during war, Safra was easily one of the largest towns that I had ever seen. Still, it was not quite large enough to be a city, particularly due to the mediocre agricultural capacity of its nearby lands.

“Are we proceeding as planned,” the leader of the soldiers asked me as we neared the city.

“Yup,” I replied. “Let’s go over it just to make sure though. We’ll head through the east gate to make it appear as though we came from the road from Damask. And I’ll tell the local guards that we came to talk to Katepan about our new road safety agenda.”

The soldiers accompanying me nodded their heads in agreement. Now it was time to put our plan into action.

After redirecting our route to the northeast, we made our way onto the road that connected Safra with Damask. Once we arrived at the gate, we were greeted by curious militiamen who quickly let us in when I told them that we came under the orders of Doux Isaac to increase road safety. The guards were even polite enough to lead us to the great hall, which was located on a small hill at the center of the town.

When we arrived at the great hall, we were provided with watered down wine while we waited for the Katepan to arrive.  Fortunately, the soldiers that I had brought along were disciplined enough to remain calm and hide any signs of nervousness. I’ll have to make sure to thank Minerva for this when I see her, regardless of whether she was actually responsible.

As we were waiting for the Katepan, I was busy observing my surroundings. The great hall was a fairly taciturn building constructed out of grey stone with a timber frame. Inside were large oak tables and chairs, most likely relics from the time that Safra served as an important military base for the Stygian kingdom. Interestingly, the old Stygian banners were mostly kept in place while Iasor banners were draped in more prominent positions to signify the change in power.

More importantly, the number of guards in the great hall was sparse, only two currently visible. However, the guards were private soldiers unlike the militia outside, so they could still pose a threat.

Soon, I saw a middle aged man appear from within the hall. The man was as typical as they went: average height, black hair, and brown eyes. His outfit did not stand out either, being just a simple kaftan befitting of his station. So if he was embezzling funds then he was doing a good job of hiding it.

“Hello there,” I called out to the man. “I’m Iblis, Doux Isaac’s new aid. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” he replied as he went to shake my hand. “I’m Loukas of house Myron, the Katepan of this town. I heard that you’re here to clear the roads of danger.” 

“That’s right,” I answered with an easy grin. “Currently I’m focusing on improving this region by increasing road safety to help increase trade. And because Safra is vital to trade with Lycia, I thought it would be best to start here.”

“I greatly appreciate your concern,” Loukas said amicably. “Any assistance would be welcome. Would you like to hear about the situation?”

“Sure,” I said while watching him behind my friendly mask.

“Well the roads to the west are mostly safe,” he began. “The Lycians also take good care of their side of the border while the roads to the east are more compromised. As such, I’m sending out regular patrols to deal with the eastern roads.”

“Do you mainly send militia to patrol or perhaps more experienced personnel?” I asked him.

“It’s a mix,” he informed me. “I’ve been sending regular soldiers, some mercenaries, and even a few of my household retainers.”

“Household retainers?” I wondered. “That’s quite the dedication on your part. Say, how many of your household troops are you sending out now? If you’re overworking them, I can let you borrow extra soldiers from Damask.”

“That would be great,” Loukas said eagerly. “Of my ten retainers, half of them are out assisting with patrols as of now.”

Although I was grinning at him in a friendly fashion, I could feel the wolfish look that was hiding behind my amiable smile.

“In that case I’ll have to send you some aid,” I laughed as I put my hand on his shoulder. “Oh and while I’m here, I heard that there are some wonderful Damask steel weapons for sale in town. Would you mind helping me find a suitable item?”

“Of course,” he answered, his body slightly shaking while he spoke. “I’m sure the markets in town will have something good.”

“Markets?” I asked innocently. “But I heard you were the one selling the weapons.”

“That must be a mistake,” he said, attempting to stay as calm as possible. “I only help regulate the sale of such items, I don’t facilitate it.”

“But that’s not what the smiths at the villages told me,” I revealed. “They kept telling me about how you charge them too much for ferrosaur parts and that you’re buying nearly all their goods to sell.”

Loukas froze up upon hearing my accusation while his private soldiers nervously fidgeted for their weapons.

“Don’t worry, we will conduct a lawful search,” I assured the people in the room. “Our goal is simply to find out why the Damask steel trade has been so greatly diminished. So please cooperate with us.”

When I looked at Loukas, I noticed that he was desperately trying to maintain his composure. And although I could not yet tell whether he was guilty or not, I knew he was afraid.