Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Stepping off the carriage, the cold breeze from the lake hit [Ernest Fuller]'s face, making him instinctively tighten his neck.

Awaiting the meeting at the hotel where Baron [Granashi] was staying, Fuller was filled with hope.

However, when Fuller saw the neat rows of carriages parked in the hotel's open area and the coachmen waiting at the leeward corner, his enthusiasm cooled bit by bit.

The guard, with a cavalry saber at his side, checked the invitation and silently opened the door for Fuller with a gesture that said "please."

"No need to search me?" Fuller forced a light-hearted jest.

The guard sized Fuller up and down, offering a slight smirk tinged with disdain, and replied curtly: "Within five steps, no one is a match for your lordship."

Fuller nodded in formality, not taking it too seriously.

Entering the drawing room, Fuller's mood grew heavier.

Everyone was there.

From old [Schmid], the staunch supporter of Mayor [Wooper], to the faithful ally of Mayor [Selvit], "Iron Hand" [Gaisberg];

From the owners of huge workshops with eleven forges, to small businessmen like Fuller who only inherited a specialized workshop;

All the sellers involved in forming the pricing alliance were now present in Baron [Granashi]'s drawing room.

Fuller hid his inner anxiety, first greeting the elders and the large workshop owners, then moving towards a few small workshop owners he was familiar with on regular days.

"What's going on?" Fuller asked in a lowered voice.

"I don't know what's happening!" A small workshop owner who was usually familiar with Fuller frowned: "I'm also completely in the dark."

"Could it be that the young baron wants to lay all his cards on the table?"

"Lay the cards out? What cards? As long as we stick to our guns, what cards does he have to play? If he doesn't buy at Steel Castle, where else can he find a seller?"

"Right, right..."

The wood in the fireplace crackled and popped, the fire was burning vigorously, making the drawing room as hot as an iron forging shop, but Fuller's heart was as cold as his own forge.

"Sigh, the [Empire] folks are really stingy." A small workshop owner unbuttoned his collar, muttering in complaint: "They invite us over and don't even offer something to quench our thirst."

The door was pushed open and the baron's personal priest and [Translator], Father [Kaman], walked into the drawing room.

"Iron Hand" [Gaisberg], who was already very impatient, provocatively stood in front of Father [Kaman], asking loudly: "Where's the baron?"

Father [Kaman] replied courteously: "The baron has fallen ill and cannot receive his guests."

A wave of dissatisfaction immediately rose in the drawing room.

"Then why did he invite us?" "Iron Hand" [Gaisberg]'s face turned from dark to purple, as if about to bleed, "Is he toying with us?"

"The reason you were invited, of course, is to discuss business," Father [Kaman] replied, his expression calm like still water, showing no fear or retreat.

"Iron Hand" roared like thunder: "How can there be anything to talk about when the man himself is not present!"

"The baron has suffered a sudden serious illness, and all matters, big and small, are now decided by the lady," Father [Kaman] raised his voice slightly, yet his tone remained as genteel: "The baron's business dealings with all of you, henceforth, will also be decided by the lady with a single word."

The [Forge Masters] were still trying to understand the meaning of the priest's words when the door to the inner room opened again.

A dazzling and dignified lady that made one involuntarily hold their breath walked gracefully into the drawing room.

...

[The night before]

"Do you really want me... to be the one in charge?" [Anna] leaned against [Winters]'s chest, her face showing no joy but rather a hint of panic.

[Winters] savored the scent of [Anna]'s hair, puzzledly retorting: "Haven't you always been the one in charge?"

"But it's different!" [Anna] became unusually anxious, sitting up from the bed and looking at [Winters] with a touch of annoyance: "I shouldn't just show up in public like this, let alone have dealings with strange men. People will gossip about you, and they will gossip about me. They'll say nasty things..."

Winters was completely oblivious to what Anna was saying, his eyes unblinking, fixated on Anna's fantastic body curves.

Lady Navarre was so shy that she never dared to face Winters in well-lit conditions, hence Winters never had the chance to enjoy the view. Now, with a rare opportunity before him, how could he let a few words blind him?

Anna, sensing something was off, immediately pulled up her robe and then swiftly grabbed a pillow to smash at Winters, but he caught it perfectly.

And then Winters was kicked out of bed.

The intimate contact between his buttocks and the floor, followed by the friendly collision of his forehead and the chest of drawers, caused two loud bangs in succession.

Subsequently, like dominoes falling, a series of heavy footsteps rapidly approached Winters' bedroom, following the route of the living room, corridor, and stairs.

Finally, Koch's voice, who was on night duty, rang out from outside the door.

Koch, unable to hide his panic: "Are you alright? What happened, Your Excellency?"

"I'm fine!" Winters replied through the pain.

"Really fine?" Koch asked skeptically.

Winters struggled back onto the bed: "Really, it's nothing."

Koch muttered a few words and left, still somewhat worried.

After managing with difficulty to send away his overly diligent subordinate, Winters turned to look at Anna, only to see her sitting at the head of the bed, hugging the quilt, her eyes brimming with tears.

The quilt was like a barrier erected between them.

Winters carefully lifted the quilt: "I know you're scared. But I'm not worried about you at all, do you know why?"

Anna humphed softly, wiped away her tears, and ignored Winters.

"Because I fully understand your feelings right now," Winters moved closer bit by bit: "You feel nervous, afraid, and at a loss, just like my first time on the battlefield. But once you truly step into battle, all unease and anxiety will disappear in an instant. Because what you're about to do is something you're fully capable of."

Anna let Winters pull her into his embrace.

"Rather than have you strategize behind the scenes, I'd prefer you step onto the stage. I trust you, just like I trust my eyes and hands. It's not just that I believe in your abilities, but even my father has said before, 'Miss Navarre will achieve more than her mother ever did.'"

Winters slightly altered his foster father's original words and benevolently trimmed away the latter half of the content.

"Did General Serviati really say that?" Anna asked, skeptical.

"Of course," Winters' face turned a little red, fortunately, it was not too noticeable due to the dim light: "He also said you could hold up half of Vineta!"

Anna burst into laughter: "You're lying."

"That's okay, as long as you're laughing," Winters sighed in relief, hugging Anna: "Seeing you cry really tugs at my heart. Don't worry about the gossip, in the end, everyone will be astounded by your wisdom even more than your beauty."

Anna sighed softly.

"Actually, my wish for you to confront those workshop owners also contains a little bit of selfishness," Winters changed the topic, guiding Anna from another angle: "I really detest having to put on a pretense when dealing with those workshop owners."

Anna playfully bit Winters' arm, chiding: "Are you saying I like to put on a pretense?"

"I mean you're better at it," Winters was making things worse.

"Forget it, I'll let you off this time," Anna snuggled against Winters, exhaling softly like an orchid: "You never told me about your first time on the battlefield."

The warmth of Anna's breath brushed against Winters' chest, making his heart itch. But he diligently corrected his previous mistake: "To be precise, that fight can only be called a skirmish, not grand enough to be called a battlefield. It was just a small-scale raid against a band of pirates."

"Tell me about it."

"It's a bit late..."

"The night is still young."

"Alright then." Winters found a more comfortable position, asking with a smile: "Do you still remember Good Fortune Gold?"