Chapter 147

Chapter 147
## Chapter 147

“Merchant Guild Master Dominic is privy to a smelting technique for a substance that rivals Adamantium!”

“Word is it can be manufactured on such a scale that ten thousand soldiers could be outfitted with ease!”

The dialogue shared between Lucian and Dominic ripped through the Northern territories like wildfire.

This was intelligence far too volatile to be brushed aside as the typical grandstanding of a trader.

After all, what was Adamantium? It was the undisputed Sovereign of Metals, possessed of such extreme density that the acts of excavating and refining it demanded a king’s ransom in both hours and gold. Due to the sheer grueling nature of its processing, the yearly output remained stagnant and minuscule, regardless of the richness of the veins within a mine.

To suggest that a peerage-level metal could be mass-produced with the simplicity of reaping a summer harvest?

“The man has lost his mind. Has Dominic finally succumbed to senility in his advanced years?”

“There are bounds to hyperbole. A fabrication method for a material equal to Adamantium?”

“Yet, if there is truth to it, would such a revelation not upend the foundations of the entire continent?”

“A merchant of Dominic’s reputation would hardly conjure such claims from the ether.”

In an heartbeat, the collective gaze of the North was pinned firmly upon Asagrim.

If there existed even the most microscopic probability that Dominic’s assertions were valid, it was a development that could not be ignored.

Lucian had already marched a staggering host of giants from the frozen wastes beyond the snowfields. Even with subpar gear, they represented a terrifying military power—but to envision them encased in panoply matching the strength of Adamantium?

It was no hyperbole to suggest he would hold the keys to the conquest of the North.

By the same token, it implied that any provincial ruler who managed to enlist Dominic could claim that world-altering power as their own.

‘He might have incurred the Duke’s wrath for now, but he will surely be granted his freedom once he provides the promised supply.’

‘I must be the first to reach him and secure his loyalty the moment he is released.’

‘If I can just grasp the secret to forging a metal that stands equal to Adamantium…!’

While the various lords of the North surveyed Asagrim with their private machinations, Lucian remained perfectly still. He focused solely on the welfare of the clansmen establishing themselves in Asagrim, waiting with quiet patience for the specific date he had set for Dominic.

Naturally, he maintained a vigilant watch over the maneuvers of the neighboring nobility, allowing him to read their intentions as clearly as an open book.

“I can practically hear their greed from across the walls. Everyone is in a frantic rush, despite the fact that his claims haven’t even been validated.”

“That is certainly true, but… what is your plan if Dominic actually delivers a metal that compares to Adamantium?”

“Why do you ask? Are you concerned that he might receive a pardon?”

“To the contrary, I am concerned that Your Grace might dismiss his practical value and proceed with his execution regardless.”

Hans spoke while observing Lucian with a solemn air.

“Your Grace, should he truly fulfill his pledge, you need not spare a thought for me. Though my lineage is common, I understand that for the sake of a grander objective, personal grievances must be cast aside.”

“So, you are suggesting I should extend clemency to Dominic if he produces a metal of such high caliber?”

“Your Grace has gripped his vulnerability. You have secured the chance to bind him to your service before anyone else can interfere. I beg you not to let such a tactical advantage vanish simply out of concern for my feelings.”

Lucian offered a thin, pained smile at the earnest counsel provided by Hans.

He was heartened by the transparent devotion of his subordinate, but simultaneously, it saddened him that Hans viewed his own worth so cheaply. To think he would rank a mere opportunist like Dominic above the value of his own life and dignity.

“I acknowledge your sentiment. However, such a scenario will not come to pass. He will find himself unable to honor his word.”

“From the reports I have received, the Dominic Merchant Group is currently moving crates of dark, shimmering metal bars in this direction…”

“Just because a man presents a result with conviction does not mean that result is a legitimate product.”

“How can you be so certain of that?”

Hans found it difficult to grasp the source of Lucian’s absolute confidence.

This was the Dominic Merchant Group, one of the most prestigious commercial entities on the mainland. They were not lacking in resources or expertise, yet Lucian appeared to harbor not a single shred of anticipation.

In the face of Hans’s confusion, Lucian spoke with a ghost of a smirk.

“Because I believe I know precisely what sort of material he is bringing.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Since events have unfolded in this manner, I will share a fascinating detail with you.”

Lucian leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur against Hans’s ear.

“That metal he is so boldly transporting will crumble into dust in less than ten minutes.”

“…!?”

On the day appointed for the demonstration of the metal bars, Dominic arrived before Lucian radiating an aura of self-assurance. He then gingerly showcased one of the many dark, shimmering ingots he had hauled.

“Your Grace, I present to you the ‘metal rivaling Adamantium’ that I previously swore to provide.”

“Hmm.”

Lucian took the dark, shimmering metal bar with an expression of pure apathy. Aside from its obsidian hue, it appeared virtually indistinguishable from a standard block of steel.

“It is a specialized alloy known as Tennebrium. While I am forbidden from revealing the forging process or the specific components, it undeniably possesses a durability that matches Adamantium.”

“The designation sounds convincing enough. Did you also bring armaments forged from this substance?”

“Naturally.”

At a sharp clap of Dominic’s hands, laborers stepped forward to present several pieces of equipment from the rear. Among them were a chestplate, a longsword, and a spear, all sharing the distinct obsidian tint of the Tennebrium.

After a cursory scan of the gear, Lucian shifted his gaze.

“Hugo. Conduct a test.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Hugo moved forward without a moment’s pause, unsheathing his blade. After fortifying his physique with an influx of mana, he delivered a crushing blow with all his strength against the standing chestplate.

It was a strike executed with the precision of a master—a hit that would have split a standard suit of armor in two.

Clang!

“…!”

However, the blade that impacted the chestplate was thrown back with a ringing metallic vibration. Even Hugo, the one who delivered the strike, was visibly shaken by the startling resilience of the plate.

As the spectators gaped at the armor in disbelief, Dominic spoke with a wide, satisfied grin.

“Did I not guarantee this? It possesses a strength that rivals Adamantium. Unless it is struck by a material of comparable density, a common blade will fail to even scratch the surface.”

“Hugo. This time, utilize the sword provided by the Merchant Guild Master.”

“Ah, yes!”

Lucian brushed past Dominic’s commentary and issued a second command to Hugo. Despite his confusion, Hugo carried out the instruction with unwavering loyalty.

With the identical force he had used before, the obsidian blade crashed into the chestplate.

Crrack!

“Gasp!”

The onlookers let out a collective breath as they witnessed the blade sink deep into the center of the chestplate. This was an outcome that could only be achieved if the structural integrity of both the weapon and the target were on the same level.

Having demonstrated the power of Tennebrium, Dominic gave a shallow bow, his posture relaxed.

“You are welcome to test it as extensively as you wish, Your Grace.”

“No, I believe further testing is unnecessary. Its strength is indeed quite striking. Whether it truly stands as an equal to Adamantium remains to be seen, but it is certainly a premier material.”

“Since Your Grace acknowledges as much…”

“However.”

Lucian cut through Dominic’s words and sharply tapped the Tennebrium bar.

“It strikes me that there is a fundamental defect here. Merchant Guild Master Dominic, is there a detail you are neglecting to mention?”

Dominic felt a sudden twitch of anxiety under Lucian’s piercing stare. Was it possible the boy understood the nature of Tennebrium?

‘No, that is out of the question.’

Dominic quelled the thought instantly. He was the sole living soul who possessed the recipe for Tennebrium. Technically, three others had been in the know, but those three had already been sent to their graves.

‘He is merely probing me. He is feigning insight into a secret to see if I will falter.’

It was a commendable effort for a noble who was essentially still a youth—hardly more than a child—but it was nowhere near enough to unnerve Dominic. He had navigated this brand of psychological maneuvering countless times over the span of his career.

Certain of Lucian’s bluff, Dominic shook his head with a mask of pure innocence.

“How could I ever dream of concealing a flaw in a product meant for Your Grace? Furthermore, Tennebrium is the very instrument intended to secure my redemption for my past errors. To engage in deception with such a thing would be tantamount to betraying my own soul.”

“Is that so?”

In response to Dominic’s brazen claim, Lucian gave a dry chuckle and signaled to a nearby servant.

“Fetch a large tub filled with brine. It must be of sufficient size to fully immerse this chestplate.”

“…!?”

At the mention of salt water, a cold shiver raced down Dominic’s spine as if a blade of ice had been pressed against it. Of all the possible things, why salt water?

Realizing far too late that the situation had turned perilous, Dominic began to stammer.

“Yo-Your Grace.”

“Silence.”

Lucian’s retort was sharp and final, indicating he had zero interest in hearing any justifications.

While Dominic stood paralyzed with his jaw hanging open, unable to find his voice, a basin overflowing with brine was brought forward.

“It is ready, Your Grace.”

“Drown that chestplate in the salt water.”

“Pardon? Ah, of course!”

Though baffled by the odd request, the servants lowered the chestplate into the brine. The observers watching the display all tilted their heads in bewilderment.

It was common knowledge that salt was the enemy of metal, but that was an effect measured in years of exposure. Simply dunking it in brine should yield no result, so what was the point of this?

Fortunately, the confusion of those watching Lucian’s strange behavior was soon resolved.

Crackle, crumble.

“Wh-What is happening?”

“The armor is falling apart!”

Just as the cry went up, the chestplate began to erode and disintegrate within the salt water. It was a transformation that defied logic for the same object that had just repelled a knight’s full-power strike.

In a span of less than ten minutes, the chestplate had utterly dissolved, leaving nothing but sediment in the brine.

“Submerge the remaining equipment as well.”

“Yes, sir!”

The servants began to cast the armaments Dominic had provided into the salt water one after another. Just like the initial piece, every single item crumbled into nothingness with pathetic ease the moment it made contact with the liquid.

Finally, after watching the entirety of the gear vanish, a voice dripping with mockery spilled from Lucian’s lips.

“It dissolves quite efficiently. Is this truly the metal that stands as an equal to Adamantium?”

“Your Grace…!”

His face drained of all color, Dominic began to shake uncontrollably and slammed his forehead against the floor. When it became obvious that no explanation would be coming from the merchant, the crowd’s attention shifted back to Lucian.

“Your Grace, what does this signify?”

“It is the work of Black Magic.”

“Black Magic?”

“Within the forbidden arts of Black Magic, there exists a ritual that harvests vitality and funnels it into inanimate objects or living things to grant them a temporary surge of power. He utilized that specific sorcery.”

“That is a lie!”

A desperate howl tore from Dominic’s throat.

He had indeed employed magic. It was a technique from the Metal School designed to siphon telluric energy from the earth and bind it to other ores. Materials saturated with this energy gained hardness relative to the power infused, but they would revert to their natural state after a set duration.

It was a spell of that mundane level, yet he was being accused of the life-stealing atrocities of Black Magic!

“I-It is magic, certainly, but it is not the dark arts! Why… why would I ever involve myself with Black Magic…!”

“I am the one wondering about the motive. Why did you choose to sink into Black Magic? Knowing full well the kind of repulsive monsters Black Mages truly are.”

“Your Grace!”

Dominic, preparing to scream his innocence once more, suddenly went rigid when he caught the subtle grin on Lucian’s face.

Why was Lucian insisting on the narrative of Black Magic? Even if it wasn’t the dark arts, there were numerous spells that could mimic a similar fleeting effect.

‘Hold on.’

What if the accusation of Black Magic wasn’t a lapse in judgment? What if he was fully aware it was standard magic but was deliberately framing him as a practitioner of the dark arts?

As that realization settled in, a cold dread washed over Dominic, causing his skin to crawl.

‘I have been trapped.’