Chereads / The Corals with the Wifes / Chapter 173 - 173

Chapter 173 - 173

"It's why I'm at a forge instead of throwing myself off of a building," Milon replies with a chuckle. "Closest you'll get."

"I'd say it's a bit violent for heaven," Obren says.

Milon glances over at him. "Violence against what? Sheets of metal?"

"They're making weapons of war."

"Fair enough."

The three of you approach the large complex. A wave of heat rushes over you as you pass under the roofed section. All around you is a scene of organized chaos. A dozen fires rage, heating steel. Hammers shape metal. Sparks fly and dance through the air.

A middle-aged man, covered in the soot and grime of the smithy, watches as you enter. He steps away from his work, laying down his tools, and approaches you.

Over the din of the forge, he calls out, "Inae Dirriman! Glad you finally came down 'ere, gov'nor!" His accent is heavy, but his Kantonian is impeccable.

He offers his hand. You take it, and he gives it a rough shake. The man's grip is crushingly tight.

He takes a step back and gestures around at the smithy. "I'm the master of this here forge. Beautiful, state-of-the-art smithy complex. Built by Lord Moren, two years back. It's got an adjacent tailor, fletcher, and anythin' else you'd need."

The forgemaster points toward your current outfit. "Speakin' of which, I've had the tailors start on makin' you some new clothin' with the measurements you gave us. Some new boots, too, aye? I think you'll be very pleased.

You're shocked by his generosity.

Milon says to the man, "Magnificent place you have here."

"Aye. It really, really is," the forgemaster responds.

He turns his attention back to you. "We've been forging new gauntlets, helmets, and the like. What we're wonderin' is what kind of armor style you'd want. We've got the material and manpower to make plate, if you want it. But if you wanted a lighter option, we could also make you a set of brigandine."

Obren shoots you a surprised glance.

"You really don't have to do this," you reply.

"No," the forgemaster says, his tone suddenly serious. "I do. I had two sons in that war. Both made it out alive. I owe you this one, Marshal. So… which do you want?"