CHAPTER 181: CHAPTER 177: THE PRECIOUS SWORD_2

Lance had indeed struck at his lifeblood, and he was not convinced.

This research direction was originally a requirement proposed by the academy, but now it had become the reason for disbanding his own team.

Their years of effort were dismissed, as if they were being discarded like garbage.

Where was the justice in that?

"Fine, but I have one condition."

"Speak."

"I need to bring along my team. They were expelled from the academy because of me."

"That can be arranged," Lance said with a slight smile, "but you might not need to bother with those craftsmen."

"How can I forge without craftsmen?" Eugene felt that this man might be toying with him.

"Hahaha! Because I have already found that batch of craftsmen. However, you can try contacting the craftsmen still in the academy’s workshop to see if they are willing to come with me."

Upon hearing this, Eugene realized the man was serious. Initially, he thought Lance was just a man with money to burn, but now it seemed he was someone with meticulous plans.

"Alright, I’ll go back and find them, though I don’t know if you’ll be able to take them all on."

"You’re underestimating me."

He was worried about not having enough talent. He’d take as many as Eugene could bring, whether they were useful or not; they could sort it out back in Hamlet.

Winston arrived with the craftsmen to regroup and was surprised to find both Master Eugene and some researchers he did not recognize among them.

He had only heard about the matter from those craftsmen and had wanted Lance to give it a try, but to his surprise, Lance had actually managed to invite them.

Not just him, the craftsmen also did not expect Master Eugene to be there. For a moment, they marveled at their employer’s vast reach, and any slight trepidation they might have felt dissipated.

With the Master present, they probably wouldn’t be swindled.

"My Lord, how did you persuade Master Eugene?"

"Very simple, give him what he wants," Lance said with a slight smile. There was nothing that money couldn’t solve.

Saying this, he took out a bag and passed it over. "You’ve been working hard these past few days, running back and forth."

Winston felt that something was off the moment he took it. Having worked with metal for half his life, he was very sensitive to its weight. This definitely did not contain copper or silver coins.

Worried he might be mistaken, he even opened the bag for a glance and found that it contained Gold Coins—more than twenty of them, enough for half a year’s salary.

"My Lord... is there some mistake?"

"No mistake. One Gold Coin for each introduction. There are twenty-three here."

"Isn’t that too much?" Winston looked utterly flabbergasted. He had simply thought Lance was being cordial, at most offering some copper or silver coins, but this was beyond his expectations.

"I never shortchange people who work for me." Lance put a hand on Winston’s shoulder and smiled affably.

"My Lord, I want to discuss something with you."

"If you have something to say, say it."

"Can I come with you as well?"

"Oh!" Lance was somewhat surprised. He had good reasons for wanting to win Winston over.

As a winner of the forging competition’s Golden Hammer, his skills certainly gave him a way to make a living here.

"Heh heh," Winston gave an awkward laugh and explained, "Everyone knows about that night. I can’t stay in Totnes anymore."

"Hahaha!"

Lance understood his point. That night, Winston had indeed drawn a lot of attention, though for all the wrong reasons.

The Furnace Tavern was a gathering place for craftsmen. In less than two days, pretty much every craftsman in the workshop knew about his embarrassing episode that night. He had become the butt of their jokes. For someone who once fancied boasting and cared greatly about his image, that was too much to bear.

"Welcome, of course, welcome."

After receiving an affirmative response, Winston’s expression became excited, as if he had made some decision. He took the cloth-wrapped bundle from his back and offered it with both hands.

"This is the piece with which I won the prize. Please, My Lord, accept it."

Lance, however, did not take it directly. Instead, he fell into contemplation.

He could tell that Winston hadn’t planned to pledge his service only after receiving the Gold Coins. Lance had noticed the cloth-wrapped bundle on Winston’s back when he arrived, meaning Winston had been prepared to follow him even before then.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lance couldn’t resist picking up the cloth-wrapped bundle and unfolding it. A Longsword, so exquisitely crafted it looked like a piece of art, was revealed.

Yet, it perfectly balanced practicality. Holding it, one could feel the impeccable grip. Its sharpness was evident; just looking at it conveyed a keen cutting intent.

"Indeed, it is a prize-winning work, just like a piece of art." Lance played with it for a while and had to admit its perfection, finding it even better than items displayed in a collector’s Exhibition Room.

"During the competition, it cut through thirteen pig’s leg bones without chipping. When I sliced ropes with it, there were no frayed edges; it was as sharp as ever," Winston couldn’t help but correct him, eager to prove it was a true sword.

"Hahaha! I know this is a good sword, but are you sure you want to gift it to me?"

"After the prize was announced, people bid, starting from one thousand and going up to three thousand Gold Coins, but I didn’t sell. Those merchants simply don’t understand. How could they deserve a weapon I crafted? Only a person like you, My Lord, deserves this sword."

Winston’s habit of boasting resurfaced, but it was undeniably the truth.

This was his proudest creation. If it fell into the hands of those who did not appreciate it, the precious sword would be wasted, so he had never been willing to sell it.

It was only upon meeting Lance that he was convinced to offer his cherished sword freely.

It had little to do with money.

"The sword is a fine sword, but I’d like to pass it on to someone else." Lance liked it very much; indeed, it was because he liked it so much that he was reluctant to accept it.

"Why?!" Winston wore an expression of shock, unable to understand what might be wrong with his sword. He pressed, "Do you see any problem with the sword, My Lord?"

"Listen to me first. It’s not the sword; it’s me," Lance raised his hand to reassure him and then explained, "I don’t use swords. Giving it to me would be a waste of its potential. However, there is a true master of swordsmanship in my domain, and I believe he won’t disgrace your treasured sword."

Although Lance had been undefeated so far, the truth was he didn’t really use swords—at least not like a swordsman. He simply relied on his reactions, perception, and brute strength to overpower opponents.

The difference was that Reynard’s Longsword would barely show any wear after a fight, whereas Lance’s sword would be almost scrap metal after a single battle.

He wouldn’t mind ordinary swords breaking, but using this fine sword like a club would be a shame. Besides, this sword was too light for him; it was better suited for someone else.

Upon hearing this, Winston understood the reasoning and began to admire Lance even more.

He could have simply accepted it and then passed it on, leaving Winston with no room for objection. But the Lord had consulted him and explained in detail—a gesture of immense respect.

"Since I have gifted the sword to you, My Lord, I have no objections to how you choose to use it."

"Rest assured, he will not disappoint you. The weapons you forge are destined to taste enemy blood," Lance said, gently touching the blade. He suddenly realized he didn’t have a truly worthy weapon for himself and promptly turned to Winston.

"Speaking of which, go and see what materials you need and make a list for purchase. I need you to forge a weapon for me."

A commission!

What is a craftsman’s greatest honor? Naturally, it is having an important figure wield a weapon they crafted.

If Lord Lance himself were to use a weapon he forged, Winston would have another great story to boast about.

"Remember to bring your Golden Hammer-winning skill to this," Lance remarked with a smile.

"You can count on me, My Lord! I will give it my all!"

Lance made arrangements with the craftsmen and the technicians, setting a time and place for them to gather once they were ready.

For single men like Winston, it was a simple matter, but some craftsmen had families to consider and would need a bit more time.

In an era like this, separation often meant never seeing each other again, so families who could move would usually follow.

To some extent, their willingness to leave Totnes stemmed from the academy’s harsh treatment. After striving there for half a lifetime, they realized it wasn’t truly their home, and leaving might be a good choice.

Regardless, Lance welcomed them and promised to arrange housing...