Mythshaper

Chapter 59: Arrogant Prick

As I entered our courtyard, the wagon had already settled in, with a familiar face unloading boxes of materials from it. From the look of it, they seemed to have brought almost double the articles compared to last time, almost enough to last a season if we went about them in a relaxed manner.

While subcontracting the works to rural regions was a cheaper option compared to the standard rate of artisans in big cities, the tedious journey to Karmel made it impossible to have regular communication between the parties. And thus we have settled for loads of commissions, taking over a large amount of time for the transport to be worth it.

Truthfully, if not for the lack of artisans among their ranks, the legionaries would have never considered it. With the amount of excess runework the legionaries demanded, they'd gladly leave behind batches of commission that didn’t require immediate effort.

"Ah, Arilyn, right?” chirped Immunis Lucian, unloading the last of the boxes at the doorstep. Today, he was accompanied by another man, a stout patrician man with a navy-blue uniform that indicated his position was superior to the Immunes or the regular milites. The simple ease and air of superiority he was standing with, with no outright intention of assisting in unloading the boxes, further evidenced that.

"Is Artisan Ashyn home?"

My gaze shifted from the man. I was about to answer, but faltered, finding Mum's figure coming out of the house, wiping her palms on her apron. Father was still out on his usual patrols.

"That's quite a few hefty boxes you got there," Mum said, looking at the chest-high wall before the perch, lined by hardwood boxes. “This will barely leave us with any breathing space.”

The first time, the articles had been barely a quarter of the current numbers. Mum’s competence at finishing those works had convinced them to return with double the contents in the second term. Now the workload doubled once more, not that it made her feel any cheerier about it. Not only were the legionaries' fees a bit lower than the industry standard, but the commissions they handed over were all dull repairing work over fabricators of similar design. Even weapons of different shapes—a sword, axe, lance, or spear—whatever it was, it somehow held a matching design.

Repairing them had almost become a second nature, even though I worked at a tenth of Mum's number.

“Haha, you jest,” the Immunis chuckled. "While the articles in the boxes might be a bit too much, it is nothing too much for a master artisan such as yourself, wouldn't you say?"

While his tone indicated the utmost respect he had for the position of a master artisan, it also indicated that they had checked Mum’s background behind her back.