Chapter 22: Armor-Piercing Arrow
Raine led the hunters into the surrounding mountains and forests to set traps for the wild animals that threatened the crops.
Durant, accompanied by a guard, headed toward the border town to search for texts about wyverns.
Rhodes remained in Frostleaf Town to oversee the farm work.
Some of the fermented fertilizer had already been transported to the plowed fields.
Spreading manure was a skill; it could not be done carelessly.
Especially now that fertilizer might be insufficient, Rhodes needed to carefully control the amount used.
The original plan had been to apply one ton per acre, but after observing the fields, Rhodes decided to begin with half a ton.
If any remained later, more could always be added.
Once the farmers carried piles of fertilizer to the fields, Rhodes personally demonstrated the method.
"Dig half a shovelful of fertilizer and scatter it along the furrow. You don't need to use much force—the fertilizer will spread evenly."
"If some areas receive too much or too little, adjust it manually."
"And use a shovel. Not your hands."
Rhodes repeated the instructions several times, worried that he might not have explained clearly.
The fermented manure smelled far milder than fresh waste, but it was still far from pleasant.
After spending half a day teaching the farmers how to distribute the fertilizer, Rhodes went to the blacksmith's workshop and ordered the two smiths to begin constructing a furnace for smelting iron.
Before leaving earlier, Rhodes had specifically instructed Durant not to touch the iron ore mine.
If the enchantment failed to activate simply because he hadn't personally "participated," it would be an enormous loss.
Refining several thousand kilograms of ore required a tremendous amount of labor, and the farmers were currently too busy preparing the fields to assist.
Iron smelting and forging were skilled trades. Older villagers no longer had the energy to learn them, and even if they helped, they could only handle simple tasks such as mixing clay.
The forging industry in Frostleaf Town would inevitably expand in the future. Because of this, Rhodes ordered Otto to gather the town's children between the ages of twelve and seventeen so Hamo could recruit apprentices.
Blacksmiths preferred to train apprentices before their bones finished growing, allowing their bodies to adapt more easily to the repetitive labor.
Through long daily training, muscle memory developed, and the skeletal structure—metacarpals, joints, and even the lumbar vertebrae—could strengthen in ways suited for the craft.
Blacksmithing looked simple from the outside, but apprentices had to pass strict tests.
Both boys and girls were allowed to apply, but applicants needed hands large enough to grip a hammer firmly.
In terms of strength, they had to swing a hammer repeatedly and hold a forty-pound iron roller horizontally for two minutes while standing.
Most importantly, they could not be color-blind. A smith must distinguish subtle color changes in heated metal in order to determine the correct moment to strike.
Other cities imposed additional rules—no criminal record, alcohol tolerance tests, even priority admission for relatives of blacksmiths within three generations.
Such rules mostly existed to monopolize the craft, and Rhodes had no time for such restrictions while his territory was still developing.
Once the townspeople heard that their children could become blacksmith apprentices free of charge, they rushed to send them.
Some families with children outside the age range even brought food to Otto, hoping he would speak favorably to the lord.
Otto refused every gift.
In the past, Otto thought the lord was terrifying only when angry. But ever since Rhodes returned from slaying the wyvern, Otto had discovered something unsettling.
The lord looked frightening even when he wasn't smiling.
In total, the townspeople sent forty-five children.
Only seven were selected as apprentices.
Three additional candidates failed the strength test because they were simply too young.
Frostleaf Town had only recently risen above the poverty line. Many children suffered from malnutrition, and mild color-vision deficiencies were common.
Rhodes instructed Hamo to teach the apprentices without reservation and established clear rules for advancement.
Anyone who could independently forge a longsword would be considered a fully trained smith.
When that happened, their family's farmland tax would be reduced by twenty percent, and the new blacksmith would receive an annual salary of three hundred catties of rye.
The apprentices were ecstatic. Some looked ready to become master blacksmiths the very next day.
In their eagerness, they treated Hamo with exaggerated respect, constantly flattering him until the poor man barely knew how to respond.
Rhodes could only sigh inwardly.
Human relationships and social maneuvering existed everywhere.
Still, the apprentices greatly reduced Hamo's workload.
The early stages of iron refining were relatively simple. Beginning with charcoal production, the apprentices could master the basics in just a few days.
With their help handling simple tasks, Hamo had time to focus on forging the armor Rhodes required and occasionally repairing farm tools.
Rhodes himself remained busy.
He selected a suitable piece of iron and forged a short sword for Renn, intended specifically for cutting apart the carcasses of wyverns.
Once the leather armor was completed, Rhodes would feel far more at ease.
"Try it."
Inside the workshop, Rhodes handed Renn the newly forged short sword, which had not yet been fitted with a hilt.
"Yes, my lord."
Renn accepted it respectfully with both hands.
Having witnessed the power of Rhodes's greatsword, Renn did not dare treat the weapon lightly.
He placed a piece of pig iron on a stone block and swung the blade down with force.
The iron split cleanly in two.
Even the stone beneath it bore a deep cut.
"It really was forged by you!"
Renn stared at the blade in astonishment before realizing his mistake.
"I apologize, my lord—I mean… it's simply hard to believe!"
Rhodes smiled and waved off the apology.
Enchantments were difficult to accept if one did not understand their nature.
"Does it have a name?" Renn asked.
"No."
Rhodes intended to forge many blades like this in the future. They were tools, not legendary artifacts.
Renn hesitated for a moment.
"Then… may I call it Dragonslayer?"
"Call it whatever you like."
Rhodes barely paid attention. Instead, he picked up a wooden box beside him and handed it to Renn.
"Inside are four armor-piercing arrowheads. You'll need to make the shafts and fletching yourself."
Renn opened the box.
The arrowheads were different from ordinary arrows—flat and prismatic rather than long triangular spikes.
"Armor-piercing arrowheads?"
He frowned in confusion, then suddenly understood.
His eyes widened.
"You mean… these are as sharp as this dagger?"
"Yes."
Rhodes nodded calmly.
Renn immediately closed the box and pressed it tightly against his chest.
How valuable were these arrows?
With them, he could kill a wyvern.
Perhaps with a single shot.
Two at most.
"Thank you for your trust!"
Renn bowed deeply, nearly shaking with excitement.
He had never imagined that serving a lord could bring such benefits.
If he had known earlier, he would never have resisted submission.
Compared to these priceless arrows, his previous possessions meant nothing.
"Don't worry. I'll use the best materials to craft them properly."
As a hunter who lived off the land, Renn knew how to make arrows without assistance.
"Test them once they're finished," Rhodes reminded him. "If they work well, I'll give you more."
"Yes, my lord!"
The middle-aged hunter looked like a child receiving his first treasure. His hands trembled as he bowed again.
"Thank you for your generosity!"
He bowed a third time before rushing out of the workshop to search for the best wood for arrow shafts.
These life-saving arrows had to be completed as soon as possible.
Rhodes returned to his work and began forging the next weapon: Durant's one-handed sword.
At that moment, Otto and several workers arrived carrying a pile of broken farm tools—twenty or thirty in total.
They had broken quickly.
Rhodes looked at the pile, then at Otto.
"How many acres have been plowed so far?"
"About seven hundred acres, my lord."
"Too slow."
Rhodes shook his head.
"At this pace, we'll only reach two thousand acres in a month. That isn't enough."
"My lord, we haven't been slacking—"
Rhodes raised a hand, stopping the explanation.
He already understood. This was simply the limit of human labor.
After a moment of thought, Rhodes picked up a piece of charcoal and began drawing on a wooden board.
Otto stepped closer, trying to understand the design.
After staring for a long time, she finally asked quietly,
"My lord… what is this?"
"A structural diagram of a curved plow."
Rhodes finished the drawing and stood up.
"Go. Bring the carpenter here immediately."
It was time for these primitive farmers to witness the agricultural wisdom of an ancient civilization.
(End of Chapter)