Chapter 27:
The Production of Magical Armor
THE FIRST SHOT CAME WHEN I WAS STILL SIX hundred meters away, right as I was cutting down the knights that barred my path. Moving largely on instinct, I used the handle of my greatsword to defend myself against the arrow. Had I not done so, it would’ve torn through my chainmail and pierced my chest, forcing me to take my final breath. My arm grew slightly numb from the impact—a horrific reminder of the power that was behind that shot.
“It came from that way,” I muttered.
I turned toward the distant archers. That was where the commander of the enemy front lines stood—if I defeated her, my instincts told me that I could carve a path out of the jaws of certain death. My steed, Flugel, also pointed with his nose in the direction of my enemies. He was more astute than I on the battlefield. The horse and its rider were of one mind on this, and Flugel obeyed my command.
I let out a powerful battle cry as another arrow shot out. I sliced it down with a swing of my greatsword. What a nuisance, I thought. That archer’s got insane precision. The deadly arrow had been aimed right at the center of my forehead, unwavering in its course. But these attacks were useless; it was normal for a superhuman to cut down an arrow in mid-flight. I couldn’t survive on the battlefield if I weren’t capable of such a feat.
I thought back to my prior battles. A group of bandits had their hands on a crossbow as though it were completely normal. How did mere bandits get such a powerful weapon? Were they disgraced nobles who were unable to inherit their household? The questions swirled in my mind, but now wasn’t the time to care. I yelled at the top of my lungs and ordered my soldiers to prepare the crossbows.
My five squires set their sights on our enemies and fired the crossbows that we’d taken from the bandits. The bolts pierced through chainmail and killed five Villendorf knights instantly. Crossbows were powerful.
A third shot flew at me. How annoying. I defended myself with the hilt of my greatsword.
A fourth arrow whizzed through the air straight at me. Then a fifth arrow cut through the skies. The enemy archer fired a sixth, seventh, and eighth shot. Cut it out already! The bandits’ crossbow bolts were annoying, but these arrows were powerful and terrifying. I used the blade and hilt of my greatsword to parry them all. I had no need for a kite shield—my weapon could attack and defend. This greatsword had been passed down through the generations to my hands, and it could easily cut down arrows.
But this archer is a monster. Is she superhuman like me? Eventually, my enemy concluded that arrows wouldn’t work against me, or I was simply too close to them now to fire another shot. I soon reached the center of enemy territory.
“Knight Captain of Villendorf, I challenge you to a duel!” I roared.
The archer who wielded the longbow was none other than Lord Reckenbell, the Knight Captain of Villendorf; it was she who answered my call. She was truly a powerful lady, unmistakably the hero of Villendorf. I’d never faced anyone as strong as her. The difference between victory and defeat came down to a single year. If I’d challenged her just a year earlier, I would’ve lost. All it took was an extra year of training and ingenuity to decide my fate. If she’d dedicated herself solely to honing her martial prowess like I’d done, rather than stepping into the role of a commander, she might have won. My head would be in her hands.
If we were to purely judge based on the breadth of our respective skills, she was clearly more talented in more fields than I ever could be.
I spoke of my duel against the knight captain to Martina, who was beside me.
“It’s truly an inspiring tale,” she said. “I can vividly picture that clash of heroes. But why are you telling me this story all of a sudden?”
“Well, I’ve got time on my hands,” I replied.
I was at the blacksmith of the royal capital. I’d brought Martina with me since she was my apprentice, and I took the opportunity to tell her about the Campaign of Villendorf and how powerful Lord Reckenbell was. A merchant in front of me clapped her hands—none other than Ingrid of Ingrid Company. Princess Anastasia was preparing a suit of Maximilian armor for me, and she’d specifically chosen my personal merchant, Ingrid Company, to handle the production process. Ingrid was happy to receive such a large order.
“This deal’s been a real learning experience,” Ingrid said. “I had no idea how expensive an entire suit of Maximilian armor could be. And I was paid in advance, no less! It’s truly a privilege to work with Princess Valiele’s advisor, Sir Polidoro!”
“This time around, Crown Princess Anastasia is the one paying for it all,” I replied. “I don’t think my role as advisor matters much here.”
I hadn’t expected Her Highness Anastasia to buy me a suit of custom Maximilian armor. What’s more, the expense for this item wasn’t part of my reward for this mission—I was just being gifted this armor. The crown princess clearly has more money to spare than her younger sister. I was genuinely thankful for Princess Anastasia’s generosity.
The chainmail that covered my two-meter-tall body was beginning to come apart, so this new armor couldn’t have come at a better time. Besides, the princess’s assistant can’t dress in shabby equipment—we don’t want them underestimating me. If I were dealing with anyone but Villendorf, formal attire would’ve sufficed, but to Villendorf, armor was formal attire. I had to look sharp.
“But we’ve only got a month to deliver,” Ingrid said. “Our usual blacksmith can’t handle the expedited order alone. Aside from the man who handles your greatsword and chainmail, I had to also hire a few women smiths to forge your suit of armor.”
“I don’t mind,” I replied. “I trust your eye. I know that you’ve hired excellent people.”
I’d had a man forge my chastity belt. He usually handled my greatsword and chainmail as well, but this time around, he couldn’t forge a suit of armor by himself in a month. Time was of the utmost essence, and he required help. Women had surrounded me and touched my body to get my precise measurements before they got to smithing. Their hands were rugged and tough, a norm for their industry, and they possessed a passion for their work.
“Since they’ve already measured my body, can’t I head home?” I asked.
“Nope. As you know, we don’t have much time,” Ingrid replied. “We must make the proper adjustments to fit your body.”
“You’ve had me visit this forge every day for the past week now.”
I knew that there was no helping it, but this was taking up so much of my time. I didn’t like that. In fact, I was so bored that I’d begun to speak about the Campaign of Villendorf to Martina, who’d accompanied me to the forge. As I glanced around, a court mage bustled about and etched magic sigils into the metal plates that the smiths would use for forging. She was busy, unlike me. She was applying spells—also called enchantments—to my armor.
I think this is the first time that I’ve ever seen a mage. Mages were rare in this world, and their abilities were innate, present from birth. No one became a mage; either you were one, or you weren’t. Only one in ten thousand people were born mages, and they were exceedingly rare, but magic existed in this world. My greatsword that hung from my waist was proof of that.
“I’ve never seen a mage before,” Martina whispered.
I wasn’t surprised. She’d been raised in a town with only about a thousand people. With the exception of the duke’s house, all mages were sent to the palace without question once they proved their abilities. It was very easy to identify a mage. One simply needed to place their hands over a magical sphere, also known as a crystal ball, and see if it glowed. Crystal balls were stored in churches around the kingdom, and the church in the Polidoro fief had a ball as well. Needless to say, I had no magical aptitude.