How to Live Comfortably as an Abandoned Prince Chapter 256 : Chapter 256

Chapter 256. The Iron Anvil Guild Grows Busy

“How did it go?”

When the Great Chieftain returned to his quarters, Ian Rau, who had been waiting, asked him.

“I did everything I could.”

“Well done.”

Ian Rau added in a calm tone.

“Everything happened exactly as you said, Father. You already knew that the desert’s water would dry up. There is no doubt that the wisdom of God Nava dwells with you.”

At his eldest son’s words, the Great Chieftain recalled the old shaman he had t in his childhood.

The shaman who used to mutter nonsensical stories.

Looking back now, perhaps he had been a prophet sent by God Nava.

The truth was unknowable, but that was what the Great Chieftain surmised.

“All I knew were a few words left behind by an old shaman.”

“I know. But you were the one who rembered those words, Father.”

Ian Rau truly believed that.

Even if a prophet appeared and spoke of the future, it would be aningless if no one listened.

But his father was different.

He had kept those easily dismissed stories in his heart.

“That, too, is fate.”

The Great Chieftain read the sincerity in Ian Rau’s eyes.

He then turned his gaze toward the desert.

Among the Lizardn, there were several sacred relics passed down through generations.

The necklace that had co into Radel’s possession was one of them.

The hidden ruins of the desert.

A legacy left behind by an unknown Archmage.

As the Archmage departed the desert, he gave the Dragon’s Flute to the Lizardn, who had sheltered him for a ti.

He left with the words that whoever could use it would be able to enter the ruins.

However, not just anyone could blow the flute.

Only soone with the proper qualification could use it.

To the Lizardn, the Dragon’s Flute was rely an ancient sacred relic tied to a story about an Archmage.

‘When the owner of a winged magical beast appears, the price will be paid properly, and he will enter the hidden ruins.’

The Great Chieftain rembered another prophecy left by the shaman.

That was why he thought this way.

If the future in which the owner of a winged magical beast saved the Lizardn was real, then he, too, needed to prepare.

‘The Dragon’s Flute.’

The mont he saw Radel in person, the Great Chieftain knew that Radel would beco the owner of that flute.

And if a price was to be paid to him, then the desert ruins left behind by the Archmage were appropriate.

‘No, it had to be this reward.’

Sending Ian Rau to guide Radel through the northern desert,

and subtly bringing up the story of the ruins,

were all part of the Great Chieftain’s plan.

Only then would the prophecy be fulfilled, and the Lizardn’s future change.

“Still, he told him accurately.”

The location of the desert ruins was known only to the Great Chieftain and a handful of others.

He had instructed Ian Rau to guide Radel through the northern desert, not to reveal the ruins’ location.

Revealing it had been Ian Rau’s own choice.

“He was a royal who knew how to talk.”

Ian Rau said with a grin.

Radel had asked about the manticore’s habitat, but what of it?

Ian Rau liked Radel.

If he had not, he would never have spoken on behalf of the Lizardman tribes.

The two Lizardn silently gazed out at the desert, waiting for the prophecy to be fulfilled.

In ti, the sun would rise over that dark desert, and the sand would be dyed red.

A glimr of hope flickered in their eyes.

***

Hissss!

Clang! Clang!

The sound of molten tal being poured.

The sound of tal being hamred against anvils.

Dwarven blacksmiths swung their hamrs without pause.

Guild Master Balban Lusheron looked over the guild mbers and asked,

“How many items are due to go out by this afternoon?”

“Fifty hoes, thirty pitchforks, sixty swords, and eighty axes!”

It was an unprecedented volu of orders.

After repaying their outstanding debts with the money given by the 8th Prince, orders had begun pouring in from a place called the Spear Guild.

By reputation, it was one of the Empire’s three largest rchant guilds.

When they first approached the Iron Anvil Guild, Balban could not help but be shocked.

To think they would entrust orders to a small guild like his.

‘How did they even hear about us…?’

To the flustered guild master, a representative of the Spear Guild had said this:

‘Our guild is always searching for skilled artisans. His Highness the 8th Prince recomnded a trustworthy guild. It is an honor to do business with Dwarven craftsn.’

It was the first ti since coming to the Empire that they had been treated like true artisans.

Human rchants were not easy to deal with.

Once they realized that Dwarves were unfamiliar with worldly affairs, they would stubbornly try to haggle down every last bit.

It was rare for rchants to offer a high price first.

But the Spear Guild proposed prices better than the Dwarves had expected.

Balban felt deep gratitude toward the 8th Prince.

If there was one choice in his life as a Dwarf that he had made particularly well, it was deciding to beco a follower of the 8th Prince.

“Hey, Kranvel. Any word yet from Lusheron?”

“It is orichalcon, after all. They probably find it hard to send it outside.”

At Balban’s question, Vice Guild Master Kranvel answered.

Balban’s beard trembled as he clenched his fist.

“They cannot spare even that much for our benefactor?!”

He was a Dwarf of loyalty.

He wanted to make the finest sword possible for the 8th Prince.

That was why he had sent word to the city they had left behind, hoping to forge a supre blade from orichalcon, the legendary tal that only Dwarves could refine.

But due to the Dwarves’ closed-off nature, permission did not co easily.

“This is driving insane. We have to make the blade quickly!”

“Calm down, Balban. And the 8th Prince ordered a kitchen knife, not a sword.”

“This is a matter of pride!”

Balban had no intention of backing down.

Even if the 8th Prince had ordered a kitchen knife, once it was entrusted to the Iron Anvil Guild, they had to make the finest piece in the Empire.

The pride of a Dwarven artisan was at stake.

Balban’s anger was about to boil over.

“Is this the Iron Anvil Guild? You have a delivery.”

At that mont, a parcel arrived at the Iron Anvil Guild.

It was sent by Radel Silvert Cretian.

“What is this?”

Balban and Kranvel opened the small box.

Their eyes widened.

“Th-this is?!”

Inside the box lay a single strange scale, radiating a brilliant luster.

“…Call the others. Now. Quickly!”

Balban had Kranvel summon the guild mbers.

When the gathered Dwarves saw the item in the box, they too stood frozen in shock.

One Dwarf even fell backward.

“Th-this, this!”

“Could it be… a dragon’s… scale?”

Balban nodded.

An unprocessed, pure dragon scale, sothing no longer found anywhere on the continent.

The veteran Dwarves of the Iron Anvil Guild imdiately recognized it.

“Wait, Balban. This is… not just any dragon scale.”

At the cautious remark, Balban’s expression turned solemn.

That was right.

This was not an ordinary dragon scale.

It was the one scale that existed only once on a dragon’s massive body.

The dragon’s sole weakness.

“Yes. It is the Dragon’s Reverse Scale.”

At Balban’s words, every mber of the Iron Anvil Guild felt as though they had been struck on the head.

“To entrust sothing this precious to us… does the 8th Prince truly trust us that much…?”

They were Dwarves.

Artisans whose craftsmanship was their very spirit.

Standing before a material so rare one might see it only once in a lifeti, they felt the 8th Prince’s sincerity.

A fire ignited in the hearts of the Dwarves.

They would forge the greatest blade on the continent.

Balban’s resolve beca the resolve of the entire guild.

***

“Did you send it properly to the Dwarves?”

The Spirit of the Library asked Radel.

Radel, who was packing to leave the desert, thought for a mont.

Then he realized what the spirit was referring to.

“The Dwarves? Ah, the scale?”

“You fool! That is not just a scale!”

The Spirit of the Library leapt in agitation.

So he had nearly forgotten about it entirely.

Did this half-wit really not know how precious the Dragon’s Reverse Scale was?!

“Do you have any idea what that is?! An ordinary human could never see it in their entire lifeti!”

The Spirit of the Library shouted in frustration.

This dim-witted contractor had been more excited about finding manticore teeth than discovering the Reverse Scale.

‘A weapon forged from a dragon’s reverse scale becos the only weapon capable of killing a dragon.’

A dragon, a creature at the pinnacle of magic.

It was the single ans by which such a being could be slain.

The spirit doubted that Radel understood what it ant for a human to possess such power.

‘Well… there are no dragons left in the world now, anyway.’

Coming to terms with reality, the Spirit of the Library forced itself to calm down.

Getting angry at the boy would accomplish nothing.

“Well, it is not as if it will disappear along the way. Do not worry so much.”

Radel’s response only made the Spirit of the Library flare up again.

“That careless attitude of yours is the problem!”

The voices of Radel and his spirit carried all the way to the water source so distance away.

The water source the Lizardn had dug had beco yet another oasis.

Beside the newly ford oasis, Geheram, chieftain of the Kau tribe, was exchanging farewells with Carlos, the commander of the Horizon Knights.

The Kau tribe would soon be leaving as well.

They needed to head north to dig a new water source.

“Forget about little oases like this and live well.”

“Of course. Thinking about how much we fought with your Horizon Knights, I am sick of it.”

“I thought it was quite fun. If you get bored, co fight again soti.”

“…You are neither a knight nor a warrior. You are a born brawler.”

At Geheram’s words, Carlos laughed heartily.

“Better than being a bandit. Thanks, my Lizardman friend.”

“Friend… That is better than being enemies.”

Geheram smiled faintly.

Many things in the desert were changing.

All because of that prince.

The owner of the griffin.

However, unlike Geheram, there was soone grinding his teeth at the thought of the griffin’s owner.

That person was Armandy, an elite agent of the Ability Managent Bureau.

He muttered blankly,

“This makes no sense…”

He was despairing over the sheer volu of reports he would have to write.

It was the heart of the desert, a place difficult to infiltrate, with almost no permanent Ability Managent Bureau agents stationed there.

There were a few personnel monitoring the imperial family from afar, but Armandy alone had witnessed everything up close.

That ant his report would be the longest of all.

‘Endure it. If headquarters views this mission favorably, I might even get promoted.’

If that happened, he might be able to escape his current assignnt.

This wretched Academy surveillance duty.

But Armandy also knew it was unlikely.

There was no reason to reassign an agent who had successfully infiltrated the Academy as a first-year.

‘If I have to do it anyway, I at least want to write fewer reports…’

Yet once again, Radel was the problem.

Everywhere he went, he created trouble.

Who would have imagined he would resolve the desert’s problems and form friendly relations with the Lizardn?

On top of that, there were other imperial royals who had co to the desert for major practical training.

The reports were piling up endlessly.

As Armandy clutched his head, his eyes caught sight of Inette and Shartea facing each other.

It looked as though a fight could break out at any mont.

‘N-no! Please, not another report!’