The hammer fell on the red-hot iron, the dull sound echoing along with the sparks it scattered.
"What kind of armor is the 'White Rose'...?"
Unmoving, the dwarf blacksmith murmured thoughtfully as he stared at the furnace.
The royal designated armory, once bustling with constant noise, flame, hammering, and blower bellows, making it impossible to hear one's own voice without yelling, was now so quiet that even the low murmur of the old craftsman could be heard clearly.
Lorentz Yugo Heimsmith let out a soft sigh and turned his head to look at his remaining apprentice and assistant.
With sharp eyes that showed not the slightest sign of aging, he looked at the tense young man who nodded in agreement.
"Yes... Yes, Master! I want to know what's so special about that set of armor."