Workshop

Lucia understood. Given Sister Lansseax's methods and temperament, this way of handling things was already gentle enough.

The complete opposite had happened over the past month. Faced with the endless provocations from New Party nobles across the Golden Dynasty, the Ancient Dragon Temple had just ended a storm-like counterattack under her leadership.

Hundreds of powerful knights directly under Leyndell's Ancient Dragon Temple had been assigned to local branch temples everywhere. Taking an eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth stance, they launched a great number of honor duels against the local noble forces that had injured branch-temple personnel earlier.

Most of the so-called mighty warriors employed by landowners and minor nobles were elite mercenaries or seasoned adventurers. Against branch-temple knights who had not trained for long and were not ruthless enough, they could still handle themselves with ease. But when, completely unprepared, they faced this group of Ancient Dragon Knights from the main temple who had come for revenge, they naturally suffered a crushing defeat with no room to struggle.

Beyond that, with the full support of the main temple's knights at their backs, the branch temples everywhere seized the chance to swallow up all the missionary regions the New Party nobles had claimed were "disputed," and in turn forbade quite a few Golden Churches from carrying out missionary work in those areas. Of course, they did not direct their spearhead at the entire Golden faith, but narrowed it down to certain local churches that had "strayed from Queen Eternal's guidance and colluded with corrupt, decayed local nobles."

Setting aside both sides' positions and these alarmist declarations, the essence of all the clashes that had taken place that month was this: the New Party nobles had colluded with some grassroots churches inclined toward Fundamentalism of the Golden Order to provoke the Ancient Dragon Temple first. Yet not only had the Ancient Dragon Temple refused to swallow its anger because the other side had more people, it had even struck back with a heavy hand unprecedented in the past ten years, cleanly seizing a considerable portion of grassroots missionary rights from the New Party faction.

Once this happened, many of the great New Party nobles secretly directing the affair could no longer sit still. In their eyes, their side had at most tripped the other party a few harmless times, yet the other side had flung back a vicious, resounding slap without a word. Caught off guard, they had even had two teeth knocked out. How were they supposed to keep playing?

But before they could escalate the situation, Lansseax, who had been sitting steadily in the temple all along, had already sent a handwritten letter to the homes of more than ten highly powerful dukes and marquises. The meaning of the letter was also exceedingly simple—stop here, or go to all-out war.

A few days earlier, Lucia had worriedly asked Lansseax about it, asking whether doing this would seem like pushing too hard. If the New Party steeled itself, tore away all pretense, and went thoroughly against the Ancient Dragon Temple, she would inevitably bear unprecedented, immense pressure. Lansseax, however, had only told him to rest easy; the situation was completely under control.

Unexpectedly, on the second day after the letters were sent, Marika and Radagon summoned all nobles in the royal capital who were marquises or above and held actual posts, and held a brief inner-court meeting in the Hall of Eternity. The result was that the confrontation between the New Party and the Ancient Dragon Temple, which had lasted nearly a month, was declared over then and there.

Both sides lowered their banners and sheathed their weapons, while the grassroots parish divisions that had already become established facts were no longer altered. In any case, the grassroots churches belonging to the New Party accounted for less than forty percent of all Golden Churches. Even if they were pushed out of the core circle in a few individual regions, it would not shake the larger situation of the two great faiths spreading freely throughout the entire dynasty.

Only afterward did Lucia realize that he had still underestimated the influence of his own status. Especially at this moment, when he had just been invited to the royal capital and had only just been granted the title of Empyrean by the Greater Will, the New Party faction had only dared to use lower-level vassals to make petty, underhanded moves from the very beginning. When the conflict gradually expanded to the verge of losing control, Queen Marika and Radagon, who truly stood at the pinnacle of the Golden Dynasty's power, would naturally call a stop to it in time.

The two of them walked along the corridor beside the knights' training field. Since the Ancient Dragon Knights assigned to branch temples everywhere had yet to return these days, they barely ran into anyone along the way. The one or two knights they did encounter also failed to recognize Lucia in his current attire. They merely saluted Lansseax, then returned to their own posts.

After walking a little farther, Lucia saw a large building dozens of steps away, rolling white smoke billowing from it. Even from so far away, he could still feel waves of heat rushing against his face, so he asked curiously, "Sister Lansseax, the temple even has its own smelting workshop?"

"That's right. That is the temple's dedicated weapons forge," Lansseax said with a nod. "Because Ancient Dragon Knights often have to use elemental prayers, ordinary steel weapons simply cannot withstand the power of dragon lightning, raging flames, and frost. After being infused with elemental power a few times, they risk snapping. So we had no choice but to establish a dedicated workshop and use certain materials and techniques unique to Sky City to forge weapons."

As they spoke, the two of them had already passed by the workshop entrance, so she simply took Lucia inside to have a look.

The interior layout of the workshop was extremely orderly and well designed. Large uniformly planned furnaces interwove with steel pipes, and mechanized rows of conveyor rails transported raw materials such as refined gold, cold iron, and dragon scales into the processing sequence. Powerful craftsmen wielded great hammers and iron tongs, processing them step by step into fine armor and weapons in assembly-line fashion, which were then sent out one after another on another track and carried to a separately designated storage area.

What was even more astonishing was that more than half of these busy craftsmen coming and going were not human. More than twenty strong, large-built Misbegotten served as smiths for the work that required strength, while the simpler tasks of moving materials and weapons were handled by many short Demi-humans and small Misbegotten. The few human craftsmen in the workshop were not overseers driving the Misbegotten and Demi-humans to labor, but colleagues working shoulder to shoulder with them in full swing.

"Lord Priest!" When the craftsmen saw Lansseax, they greeted her warmly one after another, and nodded in greeting to Lucia beside her, but none of them stopped the work in their hands. Presumably, this too was an established custom of the Ancient Dragon Temple.

Here, whether it was the two revered Ancient Dragon Priests or the many highly skilled Ancient Dragon Knights, none of them put on airs as those of higher status, much less demanded that others disrupt their own work and lives over all sorts of cumbersome etiquette.

Lansseax smiled and nodded to them, then said to a Misbegotten craftsman who was drinking water and resting, "Master Hewg, trouble you to bring me a newly produced knight's sword, and find me an ordinary steel sword as well."

He was a middle-aged Misbegotten who looked as though he had gone through many hardships. The horns all over his head and back had mostly been cut off, and his mottled, rough skin was still marked with many scars from the old days. Beneath his wrinkled face, his messy beard had already turned completely gray-white.

Yet unlike his worn appearance, his spirits were still very strong. Hearing Lansseax's instruction, he hurriedly answered, poured a few more mouthfuls of water down his throat, then tucked the large gourd of water at his waist and briskly rose, walking toward the exit of the mechanical track.

He reached out and grabbed a knightly broadsword, then looked left and right before picking an ordinary knight's sword out of a scrap pile to the side. Using only three fingers, he firmly clamped the two swords in place, while his free hand grabbed the gourd at his waist and took a sip. Then he strode over to the two of them.

Only then, when a rich smell of alcohol rushed toward him, did Lucia suddenly realize that what was inside the gourd, which held at least seven or eight liters, was not water at all, but strong liquor!

"Lord Priest, the swords, hic—the swords are here." Hewg let out a drunken hiccup, put away the gourd, and scratched his head with an embarrassed smile, offering the two knight's swords to Lansseax with both hands.

"Master Hewg, I told you drinking too much hurts your body. Why do you always refuse to take it seriously?" Lansseax complained as she took the swords. "Next time I come and see you using this gourd for liquor again, I'll confiscate it!"

"Heh heh heh, don't worry—don't you worry. Next time, I definitely won't bring it!" Hewg promised, patting his chest. Just then, the corner of his eye inadvertently swept over Lucia, who stood slightly behind Lansseax to the side, and his whole body suddenly froze.

However, that astonishment lasted only a brief instant. Hewg immediately shifted his gaze away without a trace and bowed slightly. "If you have no other instructions, I'll head back first. I forged more than twenty swords in a row this morning, and these old bones of mine can't hold up anymore!"

After receiving Lansseax's permission, Hewg bowed deeply, then turned and left without looking back, soon disappearing into the depths of the workshop.