Chapter 27: I’m A Mercenary
Stained from head to toe in thick mud, Kaelor walked slowly through the streets. His blonde hair was matted and caked, stiff from dried grit and blood. Ignis, now dull and soot-streaked, dangled heavily at his waist, its once-brilliant ruby now dim with cracks.
As he trudged forward, townsfolk emerged from hiding, men, women, and children peeking past doorways and around corners. Their gazes followed him, wide-eyed and filled with a silent reverence that pressed on his shoulders heavier than his weariness.
He met their stares with a tired nod, then raised his gaze to the sight ahead.
Vulcanus stood before his forge like an immovable statue, arms crossed over a chest like a slab of iron. His presence seemed larger than life, an iron giant watching over the town.
"You’re alive," the blacksmith said with a low chuckle as Kaelor approached.
Kaelor scowled. "You know... sometimes I question your loyalty."
Vulcanus let out a deep, booming laugh. "That’s good. A lord who doesn’t question his men is a fool."
Kaelor was about to walk past him, but then he stopped and turned, brow furrowed.
"We only have ten Mountain Sabers. Hound uses two, which means only eight men are properly armed," he said. "And I haven’t even seen a vein. So tell me, how did you get the ore to make the farm tools?"
"I bought it," Vulcanus replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "From the Baron’s estate."
Kaelor’s eyes widened. "The Baron has an iron ore deposit?"