Guild

Entering the shop, a young apprentice was calculating accounts behind the counter. The left wall was hung with various components of plate armor, including helmets, breastplates, arm guards, and greaves, while the right wall was used for weapons such as longswords, single-handed swords, halberds, and daggers.

Phil was well-acquainted with the clerk; after a brief greeting, he brought Vitus to the backyard, where the blacksmith was forging a knightly longsword.

Clang! Clang!

The hammer fell, and the glowing red iron deformed and stretched amidst a spray of sparks. The blacksmith whistled leisurely, his expression calm and composed. Nearby, the apprentice pulled the bellows, the firelight flickering across his focused face.

Phil: "Master Vasari, I'd like to borrow two sets of armor and some blunted swords to practice swordsmanship with a friend."

The blacksmith placed the formed longsword into a wooden barrel to quench it, white mist hissing as it rose. He examined it for a long time, too lazy to pay attention to these two bored youths. "No problem. That batch of gear in the warehouse is yours to use; if you break it, it's none of my business."

The apprentice rummaged through the warehouse to pull out two sets of plate armor and blunted sparring swords. Phil donned his gear and began demonstrating the Glutzhauw, Wrath Strike, and Lichtenauer Style to Vitus...

As time passed, Vitus understood the general logic, yet he remained stuck in place. He did not consider himself a prodigy of swordsmanship who could master these famous techniques with a single glance.

Phil asked, puzzled: "Does the Byzantine royal family have no tradition of martial arts?"

Vitus: "I lived in seclusion for a long time, focusing my energy on cultural studies. My other brothers practiced martial arts; Constantine had the best swordsmanship and cut down at least five enemies during the defense of the city."

Hearing the other's excuses, Phil's mind remained fixed on practicing swordsmanship. He raised his blunted sword, took a stance, and invited Vitus to attack first.

"Uh, are you sure?" Resigned, Vitus lowered his visor and stepped forward, swinging his sword with the strength of his entire body.

On the right side of the clearing, Phil imitated the movements of Master Conan, using his blade to strike the tip of Vitus's sword. Unfortunately, his follow-up speed was a bit slow; before Phil's tip could hit the target, Vitus's longsword had already struck Phil's helmet heavily.

Phil's figure staggered, and he lifted his visor. "That's not right. Why couldn't I connect it? Let's go again."

After trying several times in a row, he still couldn't execute a proper Master Strike.

Phil decided to change tactics, thinking to himself: When Vitus strikes down again, I will still use my blade to make contact with his tip, then wind it away. I'll step to the side and thrust my longsword toward his chest. Yes, I'll use this Lichtenauer Style.

However, the idea was beautiful, but reality was cruel.

Phil did manage to block his opponent's downward strike with his longsword, but the force of Vitus's blow was too great, causing Phil to lose his balance and miss the perfect moment to "wind the blade." The Lichtenauer Style failed, and Phil's follow-up counter was blocked by Vitus.

At this moment, Vitus took a whim to try the sword technique he had just seen, but he couldn't execute it either.

Just like that, the two engaged in a sword fight devoid of any technique, swinging their blunted swords at each other like two rustic shepherds fighting with wooden sticks. The blacksmith couldn't even focus on his work, laughing heartily at the antics of this pair.

"Young masters, you are both men of status. It's better to leave this kind of sword-swinging work to your subordinates."

Phil's stamina was nearly exhausted. He took the opportunity to raise his hand and call a halt, lifting his visor and bending over to gasp for air. He still couldn't understand why the techniques that sword masters used so easily were impossible for him to learn.

On the other side, Vitus took off his helmet, grabbed his damp hair, and carefully recalled the previous scenes.

Fast, too fast!

From the perspective of someone experiencing it, the moment the opponent attacked, the tip of the sword seemed like a black shadow striking rapidly. There was no way to grasp the right timing; Vitus could only follow his instincts to block or duck to dodge.

No, the Master Strike wasn't that simple. There must be special footwork and force-generating techniques, and it must require years of practice. Unfortunately, there was no time.

Human energy is limited. Vitus's recent plan was to calculate the Euler Ballistic Equation, read military treatises, and organize the scientific knowledge of later generations.

In his view, the Ottoman empire could field an army of fifty thousand or even a hundred thousand in a key battle; the role played by individual martial arts was negligible. Even if he spent a great deal of energy to earn the title of sword master in Italy, what could that change?

Vitus took off his armor and chatted with the apprentice, learning that the apprenticeship lasted seven years. There was no salary during the training period, and after completing it, one could not immediately open a shop but had to work for the master or other shops, getting paid by the piece.

"In that case, what are the qualifications to open an independent business?"

The apprentice piled Vitus's armor back into the warehouse. "You must carefully craft a 'masterpiece' to prove your skills have reached maturity. Only after receiving the approval of the majority of the Blacksmiths' Guild members do you have a chance to be promoted to a full member.

In the last few decades, the Blacksmiths' Guild has tended to reduce competition and strictly limit the entry of new members, making promotion difficult. Many apprentices can only work for others their whole lives, or leave the Republic of Florence to serve as village blacksmiths in some remote area. I suppose that will be my fate..."

Leaving the blacksmith shop, Vitus followed Phil to stroll through the city. Republic of Florence had many churches; in addition to the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore currently under construction, each guild also funded the construction of its own exclusive church to worship the patron saint of that industry.

After the tour, Vitus reached a conclusion:

In Republic of Florence, the power and scope of the guilds far exceeded those of other cities.

The city had twenty-one guilds, divided into seven major guilds and fourteen minor guilds.

The members of the seven major guilds belonged to the elite class and were called "Popolo Grasso," such as the Bankers' Guild, the Wool Merchants' Guild, the Silk Guild...

Correspondingly, the members of the fourteen minor guilds were called "Popolo Minuto," including various craftsmen and small vendors, belonging to the middle class of the city.

"From a political perspective, the Signoria of Republic of Florence comes from the seven major guilds, and the majority of seats in the council are also occupied by the guilds. The members of the twenty-one guilds total about three thousand people, and the fate of the entire Republic of Florence is in their hands."

As his understanding deepened, Vitus completely abandoned the idea of running a business in Republic of Florence.

Joining a guild was time-consuming and laborious, especially for an outsider like him. If he didn't join a guild, he would face collective suppression from guild members.

"Forget it. I'd better do my own job well and save some money."

Vitus stopped and asked to visit the Di Maggio family's artillery workshop. Phil looked puzzled. "That place is noisy and sweltering; there's nothing fun there."

"As an artillery commander, this is my job."

Phil sighed. "Fine. You're about the same age as me, but your personality is as boring as my brother's. It's a real shame not to enjoy yourself while you're young."