It was getting darker and the two men were still busy in the blacksmith shop.

The old blacksmith Misha clamped the red hot iron billet, and the young blacksmith Berion swung the iron hammer. The shadows of the two on the wall were leaping with the flames, as if they were some kind of special dance.

Every time the iron billet was forged by Berion, Misha would adjust the angle appropriately. The two blacksmiths cooperated and soon a slightly curved sword grid emerged from the iron billet.

Misha threw the formed sword grid into the oil barrel and called the assistant to prepare the hilt of the sword.

Berion returned to the back room of the blacksmith shop and took out a wooden handle. The material was a well-touch and elastic oak sapwood. It had been processed into a suitable sword hilt according to the user's hand shape in advance.

The hilt carved with the spiral groove was tightly wrapped by Berryon in milky white stingray skin and bonded with a glue made of fish bladder.

After confirming that it was sticky, the young blacksmith placed a can of black ink next to the forge and began to paint the hilt of the sword.

For Winters, who was watching on the side, the previous work of the two blacksmiths was interesting, but nothing special.

But when the brush dipped in black ink touched the stingray skin, he was amazed.

Under the influence of black paint, the originally ordinary fish skin shows delicate and fine textures, and just a glance makes people want to touch it. Black ink has become a magical stroke that turns decay into magic.

What's even more amazing is still at the back. After finishing the paint and drying, Berryon took out another plate of silver wire.

After the young blacksmith fixed one end of the silver wire to the tail of the sword hilt, he began to wrap the silver wire around the sword hilt along the groove. Soon the black leather was divided into equidistant segments by thin silver lines.

No gold was used, no jewelry was inlaid. But in Winters's view, the hilt was as exquisite as the swords on the waists of any princes and nobles.

The black fish skin and bright silver wire complement each other, which are not only exquisite, but also practical. This simple and elegant beauty makes those jewel-like ceremonial swords look vulgar.

Not only Winters' eyes were inseparable from the hands of the young blacksmith, but even the old blacksmith Misha next to him couldn't help but be amazed.

A door in my memory was suddenly pushed open, and Winters suddenly remembered where he had seen similar craftsmanship, or style, and aesthetics.

It was on a dagger that almost killed him - the handle of Sophia's dagger was so similar to the hilt of the sword.

The silver wrapping process was completed quickly, and the rest of the finishing work was very simple. Just load the parts onto the sword strip and deliver it. But it seemed that for the young blacksmith, these were not considered complete.

After simply fixing the sword grid, the hilt and the counterweight ball, Berryon handed the sword to Winters and said briefly: "You try it first."

This is a one-handed sword, one of the weapons ordered by Winters a few days ago. The sword strip was a ready-made product bought by the Mishato people from the county town of Revodanthan. It took the merchant half a month to go there.

Winters, who took the sword, pressed the sword tip down on the ground, and the sword body deformed under the force and bent to the side into an arc. When he let go, the sword body rebounded naturally.

The second lieutenant narrowed his eyes and looked at it, his sword was still straight and there was no deformation.

He slashed several times on the spherical anvil of the sword test. The force of the slash gradually increased, but the sword was still firm and there was no frontal bend or break.

Winters nodded with satisfaction.

The Dusak blacksmith Misha next to him sighed: "People can die, and goods can be thrown away! The finished sword strips in the steel castle are much better than my job. If the sword I tried like this, I would have been broken. I can't compare it, I really can't compare it."

"These swords are more resilient," said the young blacksmith simply.

Winters waved a few more times, and the hilt of the fish-skin silver thread felt very good. It can be held comfortably but not uncomfortable. The grooves can also expel sweat so that the hilt will not become slippery.

"The center of gravity is a little bit backward, adjust it a little further, and adjust it one foot in front of the sword grid." Winters returned the sword.

The center of gravity of this one-handed sword is now near the sword grid, but Winters prefers to be more powerful in the center of gravity, and the slashing will be more powerful.

The advantage of custom-made weapons is that they can be modified in any way, but in fact, there are not many places where the weapons themselves can be adjusted.

The special requirements of the buyer are more reflected in the decoration. The reason why Winters was in the blacksmith shop was that Misha asked him to come and choose the decoration style.

"Don't you really need to etch any patterns on the sword?" the old blacksmith couldn't help asking.

"No need." Winters smiled and shook his head: "Will it damage the strength of the sword body?"

Misha waved her hand repeatedly: "It doesn't matter, it doesn't have much impact. After all, the sword must be decorated with patterns to look good."

"I like simpler."

Misha said regretfully: "Etching is a door technology job. I'm afraid that Berryon has this ability in the whole county. It would be a pity if you don't try it. Oh, wait until you want to add some tricks to the sword before you come."

"Okay." Winters thought and said casually: "Even if I am an outsider, you can see that your skills in making swords are really good."

"I, an old man, can't make swords, I can beat farm tools," Misha said with a happy face, patted the young blacksmith's shoulder, "This kid is truly capable! The swordsman of Revodan is not as good as him. Unfortunately, he was in this small place, and if he had been in a big city, this kid would have made a fortune long ago."

"Don't say that." Berryon whispered a brief sentence.

The young blacksmith was taciturn and cherished his words. Most of the time, he kept busy with his work in silence. If he had no work, he would sit on a chair in the corner of the wall and stare at the fire.

"No need to be modest, being too modest is also being arrogant. If you use your skills to reach Hailan, your order can be placed until next year." Winters asked casually again: "I don't know where your hometown is yet? Berryon."

“In the north.”

"empire?"

"Um."

"Where is the empire?"

The young blacksmith looked up at Winters, then quickly lowered: "Solingen."

"Are you a Steel Fortress? Little Berryon. I don't know!" The old blacksmith was surprised: "No wonder you have such good skills. It turns out that you are the famous Steel Fortress Blacksmith."

This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! Winters, the famous name of Soringen, also heard a little. He smiled and asked: "Soring Fort is far away from here, so why did you come to Paratu?"

Before the young blacksmith could speak, Lao Misha answered first: "This child is a Protestant and is very unpopular in the north."

Berryon nodded.

"Oh!" Lao Misha slapped his thigh and said sadly: "I have to find an excuse to kill Protestants every few years. When I was working as a service to the old emperor, I was ordered to do that kind of thing. Alas, I was young at that time and chopped down indiscriminately, alas..."

The old blacksmith became sadder the more she spoke. The young blacksmith stopped the work in her hand and shook her head gently to signal "It's okay."

Wintersdo asked: "Will there be family members coming with you?"

"My brother."

"Then your brother isn't a blacksmith?"

"He works as a long-term worker in Benting's house."

I didn't ask for anything useful. However, Winters didn't care much about the source of Sophia's dagger. Hailan was far away in the sky, so what could it be if I found out clearly?

"Please come and get the sword tomorrow," said Berion.

Winters was a little surprised: "Isn't it almost done? Can't I finish it today?"

"The sword grid needs to be polished and matched with important grinding." The young blacksmith explained a few simple words: "I will do it overnight, and you can pick it up tomorrow."

"Polishing is a fine job, and the wages for polishing are sometimes more expensive than armor." The old blacksmith added: "You go back first, this kid will definitely get it done for you."

It was dark, and Lao Misha was also leaving the town with Winters. The old blacksmith's home was in Dusa Village and rode back and forth every day. The young blacksmith had food and accommodation in the blacksmith shop, and he could see the shop.

...

When Winters returned to Mitchell Manor, he saw the lights far away. The Mitchell Manor, which was originally sunset, was extremely lively tonight.

The weather is getting colder, and this is the last time to harvest the tobacco from Mitchell Manor.

In Xinken Land, tobacco must be harvested in three times due to climate reasons. Only some of the leaves of the plant are picked in the first two times, and all tobacco leaves are completely harvested for the third time.

For Mitchell Manor, the tobacco harvest season is the most important day of the year.

Except for a small part used to grow food crops, the remaining 200 hectares of land in the Mitchell family are all used to grow tobacco.

Pay taxes, pay wages, buy seeds... The operation of Mitchell Manor is entirely supported by tobacco. Therefore, the tobacco harvest determines the income of this large manor for the whole year.

Harvesting tobacco leaves is a hard and tiring job, and the speed must be fast.

It is September now and frost may occur at any time. Once the tobacco is frost, the harvest of that year will be ruined.

So when the tobacco leaves are ripe, pickers must race against time and harvest them while the leaves are still perfect.

The picked tobacco must also be bundled, dried and stored as soon as possible, otherwise it will also affect the quality.

Therefore, during the tobacco harvest season, the Mitchell family will work 24 hours a day. Regardless of the owner, servant, long-term workers, men and women, they all have to work in the tobacco field.

Pierre, a idle boy, was just like a sloppy boy who broke the tobacco leaves in the tobacco field.

Not only the people working hard in the tobacco fields, but many villagers from the five villages under Lang Town also came to help.

In addition to Mitchell Manor, other tobacco-growing estates are mostly harvested in these days.

In order to recruit more people, each manor will offer high salaries to the farmers who come to help.

Therefore, the tobacco harvest season is a rare time for farmers in Lang Town to earn extra money in the year, and men, women, young and old in each village will come out.

It was already night, but the bonfire was rising in the tobacco fields, and everyone was still working hard.

The entire harvesting process is clearly divided. People working in the tobacco field break the tobacco leaves completely off the plants and load them into the truck to transport them to the grill.

Single-piece tobacco leaves will be tied with thin ropes outside the grilling room and hung on wooden racks. Rather than harvesting tobacco leaves, tied cigarettes will be more skillful. Only women with skillful minds can do it.

Therefore, there are almost no men among the people working outside the grill room. The women move very quickly, and the hemp ropes fly between their fingers. The bystanders' eyes cannot keep up with the movements in their hands, and they can tie a row in the blink of an eye.

The tobacco leaves neatly hung on the wooden rack will be sent to the baking room to dry, and the baking process will use a lot of coal without hesitation.

When we arrived at the grill room, only men were left working. Because the grill room was too hot, almost all the workers were climbing up and down on the ladder naked, so naturally there would be no women.

But even if you don’t wear clothes, the person responsible for baking tobacco leaves can only stay in the grill room for a short time, otherwise there will be a risk of suffocation.

Winters saw an interesting scene: Mrs. Mitchell and her young daughter were driving a carriage full of wine barrels with iron hoops. The two seemed to be going to deliver drinks to the people working in the tobacco field.

Everyone else was busy, and the two ladies didn't look good at horse racing either.
To be continued...