What yeti head?
This was just an iron helmet.
It simply had horns sticking out on either side of the top, rather like the helmets commonly worn by Vikings.
Rhode picked up the helmet and peered inside through the hollow faceplate, then turned it over, felt around inside, and put it on his head.
Looking out through the tiny gridlike gaps in the faceplate, he found his field of vision rather narrow. Perhaps because of the workmanship, breathing felt a little difficult too.
"Let me try it too! I want to be a yeti too!" Lilia always liked joining in the fun.
"Here you go."
With a mischievous chuckle, Rhode put the helmet on Lilia's head backward.
Lilia was a child, after all. Her head was small and the helmet was big, so it wobbled around as she wore it. Since it was backward, with the faceplate at the back, she naturally couldn't see a thing.
Watching the little girl bump into a rack, then a wall, Rhode laughed so hard he could barely stand straight. "Are you drunk?"
Lilia turned the helmet the right way around and said solemnly, "I had a whole big mug."
Then she took the helmet off. "It's a little heavy and uncomfortable to wear. And..."
She let out a breath, her cheeks a little flushed.
Yes, it really wasn't much use.
Anyone wearing it would suffocate before they could even think about fighting.
The breastplates were the same: crude and heavy.
If even the adult-sized ones were like this, a set made to fit Lilia would probably be worse.
The smaller it was, the more delicate the workmanship needed to be.
Rhode shook his head and was about to leave with Lilia.
Seeing this, the blacksmith Vyrintan hurriedly asked, "What's wrong? Nothing caught your eye?"
Rhode nodded, then pointed at Lilia. "I want to buy her a set of armor, but everything here is too heavy."
"I see..." Vyrintan considered this for a moment.
Then, apparently coming to a decision, he said to Rhode, "Wait a moment. Let me show you something."
Hmm?
Could an ordinary little smithy like this really have some great treasure tucked away?
A little later, Vyrintan emerged from the back room carrying a box.
"Take a look at this." Vyrintan set the box on the floor and opened it.
There seemed to be a piece of armor inside.
Rhode walked over and gently lifted it out.
No, this wasn't plate armor. It was much lighter.
It was a coat of scale armor, gleaming and exquisitely crafted.
Its surface was as smooth and bright as glass, with tiny glimmers dancing across it as though reflecting starlight and moonlight.
The silvery scale armor was cut much like a shirt, with short sleeves reaching the elbows and a hem covering half the thighs.
Its scales weren't the usual shell-shaped fish scales, but shield-shaped ones like a shark's.
Each scale was about the size of a copper coin. They overlapped one another, painstakingly threaded together layer by layer with an exceptionally tough, fine cord.
There really was a treasure here.
The quality of this piece was clearly beyond comparison with the scrap metal lining the walls.
"Wow, it's so pretty," Lilia marveled.
"What's it made of?" Rhode was interested in a different question.
"Mithril," Vyrintan said proudly. "Only mail made from mithril can feel thinner than soft sheepskin. Wear it beneath a robe, and you can't even tell there's a coat of mail underneath!"
Rhode felt the mithril mail. It was exactly as Vyrintan had said.
Nice workmanship. I didn't expect this blacksmith to have some real skill.
Maybe he took more care when working with better materials, letting him show what he could really do?
"Where did you get the mithril?" Rhode had never actually seen mithril before, but he had the impression it was fairly precious.
After all, it counted as a relatively high-tier mineral in the game.
"I once helped the dwarves of Dun Garok make armor. They gave it to me," Vyrintan said, looking quite pleased with himself. "Then Ganos Ironheart, a blacksmith in the Arathi Highlands, taught me how to turn it into protective gear."
"It really is nice. Looks sturdy and lightweight." Rhode asked casually, "Does it have a name?"
Generally speaking, better equipment ought to have names, like Frostmourne or Ashbringer. Even green-quality equipment should have names like Longsword of Slaughter of the Monkey or Royal Belt of the Eagle.
"Yes," Vyrintan replied. "It's called the Silver Scale Breastplate."
...So that was what it was.
This was a blue-quality item! No wonder it looked so impressive.
"Then..." Rhode suddenly hesitated. "This Silver Scale Breastplate wouldn't happen to cost five gold apiece, would it?"
"How did you know?" Vyrintan's eyes widened. "I hardly ever show this to anyone. After all, it really is... a little expensive."
A little expensive? That didn't even begin to cover it!
Five gold coins!
Never mind how many years a farmer would need to earn that much. Even as an adventurer, I'd only earned a little over six gold after risking my neck.
Selling something this expensive in a small-town smithy, you probably wouldn't find a buyer in your entire life, would you?
Unless you went to the watchtower to pitch it. Then you might have a chance.
Come to think of it, this Vyrintan fellow probably only showed me this equipment today because he'd heard I completed the wanted notice yesterday and collected the bounty.
When Rhode remained silent, Vyrintan studied his expression and added, "Well, if Mage Rhode wants it, I could offer a discount..."
"How much?"
"Four gold coins."
For some reason, Rhode felt that a Silver Scale Breastplate sold for anything other than five gold coins somehow lacked a soul.
But of course he wasn't foolish enough to raise the price on himself.
He pointed at Lilia again. "Then how much would it cost to make a Silver Scale Breastplate that fits her?"
"One for her would use a little less material," Vyrintan said, looking Lilia up and down. "But the workmanship might need to be more delicate. I expect it would be ready in a week."
"And how much would that be?" The price was Rhode's main concern.
"Still four gold coins. You have to consider that mithril is scarce here because transporting it is difficult, and then there's the labor..."
"All right." Rhode didn't waste any more words. "It's a deal."
He knew just how important good armor was to a warrior.
And keeping Lilia safe from harm mattered even more to Rhode.
The quality of the Silver Scale Breastplate was plain to see. Four gold for a custom-made one was a good deal.
Besides, throughout their conversation, Lilia's eyes had never left the Silver Scale Breastplate. Clearly, she loved it.
Buy it, buy it, buy it!
You should be generous even when buying toys for your own child, let alone equipment that could save her life!
"Thank you for your patronage, Mage Rhode." Vyrintan was naturally delighted to have made the sale, though he still held out a hand. "About the deposit..."
"How much?" Rhode understood that custom.
"Half. Two gold coins."
All right.
Rhode took out his purse, counted out two gold coins, and placed them in Vyrintan's hand.
Parting with the money still stung a little.
Thinking about how two-thirds of his gold would be gone by the time he actually collected the armor made it sting even more.
Lilia looked up at Rhode and said with an air of worldly wisdom, "Then you'll have to work harder."
Rhode didn't catch her meaning at first. When he did, he gave Lilia a light knock on the head with his fist.
Teasing the little girl was such fun.
But money really was important. Even in this world, it was the rich who got their happily ever after, and the rich who could accomplish anything.
Even learning magic would surely be expensive, whether it was tuition or buying a Spellbook, wouldn't it?
In short, he needed to find some way to make more money.
With that thought, Rhode left the smithy with Lilia.
They had only taken a few steps when a voice called from behind them. "Friend... um... interested in a Mountain Cloak?"
Before you continue