Chapter 498: Hello, Worker

CLANG!

CLANG!

A hammer struck the sword blank, sending a shower of sparks flying.

The haggard-looking youth flinched back in fear, but he couldn’t escape the fate of having a few new, airy holes burned into his clothes by the sparks.

The hammering stopped.

“Henry! Pray to the Divine Spirit, then put your heart into learning blacksmithing from me. A man needs a skill. There are wars everywhere these days, and people need a lot of weapons and armor. When you can forge weapons like I can, you can open your own blacksmith shop, earn some money, and build your own log cabin. No girl will marry you if you don’t have a house of your own!”

Henry listened to his father’s nagging, grumbling internally, ‘I really don’t think grinding rust off old weapons with a whetstone and hammering on scraps of iron is what makes a proper blacksmith.’

Every day, he bought charcoal for his father, stoked the furnace, and watched him, drenched in sweat, hammer away at dilapidated weapons he had scrounged up and bought from all over. He would repair them one by one, but they only earned a pittance each time, barely enough to cover the family’s expenses. Most of the money went to buying more charcoal; only a tiny fraction could be exchanged for a cold cellar beer in front of the scorching forge.

And yet, this life was still better than that of most others in the village. If the prince hadn’t sent that somewhat smelly dried fish a while back, many people would have starved to death.

‘Besides, Teresa would never like a blacksmith who stinks of sweat,’ he thought.

Rather than a blacksmith, Henry wanted to be a Knight, one who wielded a greatsword and cut through enemies on the battlefield. He fantasized about riding his steed across a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, then pulling up before a tavern maid who had her hands clasped to her chest, her eyes full of stars. He would lean down, gently take her hand, and pull her up onto his saddle. With his arm around her slender waist, he’d inhale the scent of malt beer and soapberry from her hair, and they would ride off into the sunset amidst the cheers and adoration of the crowd.

“What did you say?” It was as if Henry’s father had the Mind Reading Skill.

Henry instinctively recoiled. Then, as if feeling his reaction wasn’t very Knight-like, he stiffened his neck and said, “I didn’t say anything!”

The moment he finished speaking, his neck shrank back down, and even his shoulders slumped. It was a reaction born of a primal fear of his father.

If someone from the Monkey Territory were standing here, they would have recognized the sight immediately: Henry looked exactly like an ostrich-eagle.

“Then go get me a bottle of wine,” Henry’s father said. “And Nikus—that bastard owes me money, and it’s due today. Go find him and get it. Then use the money to buy some charcoal… and beer!”

Henry’s father kept repeating himself, as if his son were deaf. And in reality, his son often disobeyed him, hanging out with those ill-mannered brats who did nothing but throw cow dung. Not just deaf, but dumb too.

“Nikus?”

The village scoundrel was not easy to deal with. Henry and a few of his friends had once tried to throw cow dung at him, but Nikus had chased them down and given them a sound thrashing.

But seeing his father’s beard bristling as he bellowed, he figured Nikus couldn’t possibly be scarier than his own dad.

‘And I can go to the tavern and see Teresa,’ he mused, his mood turning on a dime.

His steps were much lighter as he left home and headed for the village.

‘That bastard’s not home.’

When Henry arrived at Nikus’s door, he didn’t see the detestable figure he both feared and loathed.

‘Lucky him.’ A weight lifted from Henry’s heart. He really didn’t want to fight that bastard.

‘Now I can go see Teresa,’ he thought.

As Henry walked toward the tavern, he noticed a large crowd had gathered nearby.

It was a bit like the scene at the guillotine of some ancient King he’d heard about from a minstrel.

The story went that when the King was executed, he was killed by the very guillotine he had invented, with everyone gathering around to watch.

Henry had never witnessed an execution himself. He had only seen Nikus’s cousin get chased and beaten for stealing some of that stinking fish, after which the cousin was never seen again.

“Nikus!” Henry spotted his irritating figure. He was standing in a line, nervously clutching a tattered linen cap in his hands.

Henry shrank back.

He wanted to turn and leave, but after a moment’s thought, he mustered his courage and walked over. If he ran into Nikus today and didn’t ask for the money, his father would surely not let him hear the end of it.

Compared to his father’s wrath, it was better to just confront him. Henry figured if he got beaten black and blue in the process, maybe his father would take pity and let him off.

One fight he could fight back in, the other he couldn’t. Henry knew very well which one to choose.

“Yo, Henry.”

Henry was surprised that Nikus greeted him first as soon as he walked over.

“Um, uh, that is… Nikus, do you remember the two axes my father forged for you? You’ve, you’ve owed him money for a long time.” He tried his best to keep his voice from stuttering.

“Of course, I remember.”

It was another unbelievable answer from him. Why was he so agreeable and easy to talk to today? ‘Could he be possessed by a demon?’ Henry wondered.

He’d heard that some noble lords often get possessed by demons and would then go and do things to the rear ends of goats.

But other people said that was just because goats were better than women.

Nikus said, “I’ll have the money to pay you back soon, pal.”