Though Lord Sebastian was happy that his son had learned to move on, Ezra’s unusual request confused both Ramel and Aurelia. “You could have asked for anything, but you always make the stupidest of choices,” Ramel muttered under his breath. “What kind of a magic user needs a Gunsmithing workbench? It’s as if an idiot like you could ever craft anything useful.” Ramel knew that Gunsmithing was an incredibly difficult craft, and only a handful of people could manage to assemble a functioning firearm. In his mind, there was no way a cripple like Ezra could even repair a gun, let alone build one from scratch. Even Aurelia could not help but wonder what was going on in Ezra’s mind, but she was happy to support his decision even if wasn’t a conventional choice. *** After a light supper, Ezra went back to his room and immediately began treating his hands using the Eastern herbs the Arch Maester had prescribed. As Ezra dipped his hands into the sacred waters drawn from the fountain of E
Ezra was thrilled to level up so quickly. Not only had he advanced to a level E Gunsmith, but also acquired a new Gunsmithing skill. The enchanted six-shooter now looked a lot different from the one the Rodels had brought for him. The customized grip added a smoky white coloration to it and made it stand out from an ordinary revolver. Although the glyphs remained engraved on the revolver, they glowed much brighter than before. Even the mid-section of the gun looked different due to the addition of a new cylinder. “The notched ebony grip will make it easier for you to hold the weapon with trembling hands, and it will help you handle the recoil much better as well,” Marlin explained, while Ezra continued gazing at the modified revolver. “What about the cylinder?” he asked. “The swing-out cylinder will allow you to reload six bullets simultaneously into your revolver instead of restocking them one by one. This will cut down your reloading time in half,” Marlin replied. “These might
The town of Aranor was a melting pot of different cultures and traditions where non-humans existed peacefully with the humans. However, not everyone was happy to have dwarves and merfolk living alongside them. Most nobles and middle-class merchants were repulsed by the merfolk and viewed the dwarves as their inferiors. Due to this clash of mentalities, it was impossible to gather them at the same table for any kind of discussion. Lord Sebastian knew about these racial prejudices, and to avoid any kind of conflict, he had chosen to invite the dwarves to lunch while the merchants and adventurers were asked to join him for dinner. Since the Romanovs were one of the only families of nobles in Valaria to treat the dwarves as equals, it was easy for Lord Sebastian to win over the miners without any bargaining. Ivan readily agreed to support him in the next patriarchal election and even promised to cut all ties with the Rodels. The easy part was over, but the real challenge still lay ahea
Aurelia welcomed Yarpin with kind words and took him to the table where the maids and attendants had already laid the silverware and were waiting with towels and kerchiefs. The guild master of the adventurers’ guild walked up the stairs with a resolute air and greeted Lord Sebastian with a half-bow. “Welcome to our humble home, Black Viper,” Lord Sebastian said, greeting the adventurer with a firm handshake before pulling him into an embrace. “It’s good to see you haven’t let the years catch up to you, Lord Sebastian. And please, you may call me by my real name. Only the commoners and rookies call me Black Viper,” the man replied. “Very well, Lester,” Lord Sebastian replied with a polite smile. As Lester let go of Lord Sebastian’s hand, he immediately turned his gaze to Ezra. “I was there at the training arena. You tried well, boy. There’s no shame in failing.” Ezra did not understand whether Lester was trying to genuinely sympathize with him or further rub salt into his wounds.
Even Yarpin’s scheming mind had never expected such a proposal. Lord Sebastian already held the title of the Chief Patriarch of the Dragon Claw clan, and he had always seemed pleased to stay out of politics outside his own clan. “There is a chance that your cousin may be re-elected as mayor. Why would you want to nominate yourself in his stead?” the merchant asked. Lord Sebastian looked straight at him and replied, “Don’t get me wrong. I know my cousin has done a fine job as the mayor of Aranor. But he will be no match for Lord Wilhelm. If Lord Wilhelm decides to run for mayor, only I can hope to oppose him.” “Well, I can’t say that’s too far from the truth,” Lester pitched in, taking another swig from his cup. “Lord Sebastian is quite a popular figure in Aranor. But I can’t say the same about our current mayor, Lord Harwood. Most people only see him as a harmless puppet.” Yarpin ignored Lester’s remark and asked, “May I know why you are so averse to the idea of Lord Wilhelm becomi
The die that Yarpin had rolled to set his murderous plan into motion was now coming back to haunt him, and all he could do was ball his fingers and curse his oversight. Ezra had outwitted him and given him a taste of his own medicine. Seeing his guest so eager to leave, Lord Sebastian stood up from the table to accompany him to the front door, but Ezra stopped him before he could take another step. “I’ll accompany our guest to his carriage. You can complete your meal, father,” Ezra said, urging Yarpin to follow him. Though Yarpin was a cultured man and was known for his refined courtesy, he forgot all about his manners as Ezra’s words kept ringing in his ear. Without even taking Lord Sebastian’s leave, he followed in his son’s footsteps like a frail shadow. As they reached the front door, the clouds gathered overhead burst at their seams, ushering in the first rains of the season. “You are playing a dangerous game, young Lord,” Yarpin spoke in a hushed voice. A crooked bolt of l
The next day, one of Yarpin’s most trusted messengers arrived at the Romanov mansion, bearing two envelopes from the silk merchant. He handed the smaller one to Lord Sebastian but refused to deliver the second one to anyone other than Ezra. A maid was sent to call Ezra from his room, and he promptly arrived downstairs to collect the special package. “Mr. Yarpin wishes to tell you that he had to put in tremendous effort to acquire this gift for you. Please do not sell it to anyone else,” the messenger said, handing the sealed blue envelope to Ezra. “Tell him that I appreciate his effort and that his gift is safe in my possession,” Ezra replied, before shoving the envelope inside his jacket. It was clear that Ezra did not want anyone to know about the blueprint, not even his family. Fortunately, Lord Sebastian was too occupied with the letter he had just unfolded to think about anything else. He read it with keen interest, weighing every word carefully before turning the letter ov
In an unknown location, three robed figures were standing in front of a statue, inside what seemed like a ruined shrine overgrown with thorny vines and moss. The man on the right was bald and stout with a missing ear and smoky gray eyes. His dusty black robes were in tatters, and he walked with the help of a crooked pinewood staff. The one on the left was a middle-aged woman with hazel brown eyes and dirty black hair which cascaded along her shoulders, reaching all the way to her waist. Though she had an innocent face, her eyes revealed the malice stirring within. Standing between them was an elderly man with matted brown locks and a lean face that bore a jagged scar on the left cheek. He was blind in the left eye and his skin was covered in scaly gray patches, which made it appear like he was suffering from some incurable disease. All of them were facing the same direction, their eyes glued to the statue in front. It was the statue of a robed deity with a cowl on his head. In his