The Demon Forger?

Shock flashed across his face, though he struggled to suppress his expression.

"It'll do." The officer slid the grey-blue longsword into the scabbard at his waist, tore off the standard-issue sword he had been wearing, and tossed it into the scrap heap. "It qualifies. Someone, come here!"

A soldier stepped forward quickly.

"Take him to the back quarters. Get him some clean clothes and some good food and wine!" the officer roared.

"Sir, that's officer-level treatment..." the soldier hesitated.

"Execute the order!" The officer kicked him.

The soldier jumped, hurriedly bowed his head in compliance, and turned to gesture politely to Su Li. "This way, please."

Su Li tucked his small hammer back into his pack and followed the soldier toward the back at a leisurely pace.

The craft of blacksmithing truly was a skill that could take one anywhere in the world without fear.

Once Su Li's back had completely disappeared around the corner, the young officer shed his composure and leaped onto his horse in a few strides.

"Giddyap!"

The warhorse galloped along the main road of the fortress.

His destination was the black stone tower at the very center—the headquarters of the supreme commander of Blackstone Fortress.

The officer reined in his horse at the base of the tower, tossed the reins to the guard, and charged up the spiral staircase two steps at a time.

Reaching the top floor, he found four heavy knights standing outside the door.

"I need to see the Count! I have top-secret military intelligence!" The officer held up his badge.

The knights checked it, found it in order, and pushed open the heavy oak doors together.

The floor of the room was covered in a thick red carpet, and a massive strategic map hung on the wall.

A middle-aged man with graying hair and ornate plate armor stood before the map, scrutinizing it.

This was the supreme commander of Blackstone Fortress, Count Remington.

"Ryan, what is so urgent?" The Count turned around, his face long. "Are the Baris firing their magic cannons again?"

The young officer named Ryan stepped forward quickly. He scanned his surroundings, confirming that only the two of them were in the room.

"My Lord, it is not the Baris." Ryan lowered his voice as much as possible, his tone filled with irrepressible ecstasy. "A batch of conscripts arrived at Grey Gull Port today. There was a blacksmith among them. I took him to the armory to test his handiwork."

"A blacksmith?" The Count looked impatient. "Is a blacksmith worth bothering me for? Just throw him into the logistics battalion."

Ryan did not offer an explanation.

He drew the newly forged longsword from his waist and held it out to the Count with both hands.

The Count grabbed the hilt with suspicion.

The moment his fingertips touched the hilt, the Count's expression changed.

As a fourth-tier knight, his perception of ether was extremely keen.

Within this seemingly crude longsword, he clearly sensed a flow of extremely active, potent energy.

The level of this energy even surpassed the high-tier ether crystals he used for his daily cultivation.

"This..." The Count held the sword up to his eyes. The fish-scale patterns on the blade shimmered brilliantly in the candlelight.

He strode to his desk and grabbed a brass paperweight.

The Count put strength into his wrist and swung the sword at the brass.

"Clink."

A large chunk of brass was sliced clean off and fell onto the carpet.

"A Magic Forger!"

In this world, ordinary blacksmiths could only forge common iron.

Only those who could perfectly integrate ether energy into metal and imbue weapons with extraordinary attributes were worthy of being called Magic Forgers.

Magic Forgers were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, and their status far exceeded that of court archmages.

The entire Orenda Kingdom had only two Magic Forgers, and the King treated them like ancestors, keeping them deep within the royal capital.

They were constantly followed by an entire Royal Knight Order, and even a single hair on their heads was considered precious.

"He forged this just now?" The Count stared fixedly at Ryan.

"It is the absolute truth. I watched him hammer it out of a piece of raw iron with my own eyes," Ryan nodded heavily. "The entire process relied solely on an ordinary furnace and anvil."

The Count paced back and forth in the room, clutching the longsword. His leather boots made dull thuds against the red carpet.

His brain raced at high speed.

A young man with the potential of a Magic Forger had actually been mixed in with a group of forcibly conscripted laborers and had fallen right into his territory.

"Could this kid be a spy for the Baris?" the Count muttered to himself.

Immediately, he dismissed the absurd thought.

No matter how advanced the magitech of the Baris Empire might be, a magi-smith remained a strategic national treasure.

What ruler would be brain-dead enough to send a magi-smith to the front lines as a spy? That was nothing short of throwing a mountain of gold into the sea.

The only explanation: this was a wild genius!

A super treasure that didn't even know its own worth!

The Count's heart began to race wildly.

In these chaotic times, territories and gold coins were fleeting; only power was the truth!

The source of magic contained within this sword was something he had never seen in his forty-plus years of life.

Even the epic-tier weapons forged by those two masters in the royal capital could never achieve such a dense concentration of aether.

If he could just keep this person firmly in his grasp...

He, Remington, would never be just a miserable Count guarding the border again.

With a constant supply of divine weapons, he could fully arm an invincible cavalry of personal guards.

When that time came, even the magitech legions of the Baris Empire wouldn't be able to shake his confidence in a head-on clash.

Monstrous military achievements, endless wealth, the King's fear and rewards...

The title of Grand Duke would be within his reach! Even in these chaotic times, declaring himself king and establishing a duchy belonging to the Remington family was not out of the question!

Ambition grew wildly in the Count's chest.

"Where is he now?" The Count stopped in his tracks, turning back to ask.

"I have arranged for him to stay in an independent room behind the armory. I've sent two absolutely loyal brothers to guard the door," Ryan replied.

"Well done. Besides you and me, who else knows about this?"

"The old blacksmiths at the armory saw the entire forging process. But they are just blind, uneducated brutes; they only think he has superb craftsmanship."

The Count nodded. "Go. Draft those old blacksmiths into the front-line suicide battalion. When we attack the city tomorrow morning, have them charge in the first row."

"Then, bring in a new batch of blacksmiths from the neighboring city."

Blacksmiths were precious, certainly, but compared to a magi-smith, they were nothing.

Ryan bowed his head to accept the order.

Dead men were the best tools for keeping secrets.

"As for that young man..." The Count stroked the stubble on his chin and sheathed the longsword into his most precious gold-inlaid scabbard. "What is his name?"

"The registry says Su Li. A freeman from Grey Gull Port."

"Su Li..." The Count chewed on the name. "Go to the treasury and fetch a chest of gold coins. Then go to the city's brothel and pick out the two cleanest women to send over. Treat him like a guest of the highest order! Do not slight him in the least!"

Ryan bowed and retreated.

The Count turned and walked to the window, staring at the grey sky outside, the smile on his face no longer containable.

In the independent room behind the fortress.

Compared to the livestock sheds and recruit barracks in the front, this environment was a completely different world.

The room was warmed by high-quality silver charcoal, creating a cozy atmosphere.

On the sandalwood table sat a roasted lamb leg, sizzling with oil, along with a full bottle of corked red wine.

Su Li sat at the table with a bold posture, using a dagger to carve off a large chunk of lamb and stuffing it into his mouth to chew.

"Tsk, the heat was a bit off," Su Li muttered while chewing. "And they were too stingy with the spices; it's bland as hell."

But compared to last night's cold wind and this morning's hard bread, this was a god-tier start.

The small iron hammer rested right by his side.

Su Li knew exactly what was going on. The change in expression on that officer Ryan's face when he tested the sword had not escaped his notice.

Just as he was thinking this, a chaotic sound of footsteps came from outside the door.

"Mr. Su, the Commander has sent you some gifts," Ryan's voice came from outside, dripping with warmth.

Su Li wiped the grease from his mouth with a cloth, stood up, and pulled the door open.

As soon as the wooden door swung wide, a thick, fragrant scent rushed toward his face.

Two women wrapped in heavy cloaks stood outside.

Beneath the hems of their cloaks, sheer, overly transparent gauze dresses revealed large patches of snow-white skin that were dizzying to behold.

The two were also struggling to carry a heavy red sandalwood chest.

Ryan stood to the side, his fat face bunched up in a grin. "A small token. Lord Count has instructed that since Mr. Su has traveled a long way, you must rest well tonight. The Lord will visit you personally tomorrow morning."

Su Li glanced at the two women, who were bowing their heads and trembling, then let his gaze fall onto the red sandalwood chest that was creaking under its own weight.