Chapter 35
Jampemon is known as a stone boat floating in a sea of wheat, and true to that saying, wheat production thrives there.
Of course, Jampemon and the Duchy of Travoia aren't the only places with fertile soil; many countries in the Minor Nations are blessed that way. Still, each country has its own specialties, with some known for producing apples or grapes.
Of course, since wheat is a staple food, it's produced everywhere.
But setting that aside, they apparently do a great deal of research into ways to eat wheat in the Duchy of Travoia, where wheat production is especially prosperous.
The dinner served in the dining hall downstairs, where I went with an empty stomach, was a large serving of pasta tossed in white sauce.
Bacon shavings were scattered over it, making it quite substantial.
There was also a small piece of bread for mopping up the sauce on the plate, along with some wine.
The sheer amount of wheat made me laugh, but the taste was far from bad—in fact, it was honestly delicious.
It went down easily while I ate, but afterward it sat heavily in my stomach, asserting its presence and leaving me feeling satisfied.
As I enjoyed the wine and savored the aftertaste of the meal,
"I'll clear these empty plates. Eiser-san, did you enjoy the meal?"
The girl from the inn asked with a smile as she looked at my completely empty plate.
I nodded, then paid for the hot water along with the meal and asked her to bring it up for me.
The water was heavy, and I felt bad making the girl carry it, so I wanted to take it upstairs myself while I was already on the first floor.
I was quite satisfied with the meal, so this inn would do for the rest of my stay in town.
The next day, when I visited the Duchy of Travoia's blacksmiths' guild in Jampemon, I was treated courteously, though they were a little bewildered.
It was only natural that they would be bewildered when an elven blacksmith appeared in a city-state where elves were probably rare to begin with.
The guild agreed to let me use its forge, and I took on a job at once.
Even though I possessed a master blacksmith's license, important work wasn't going to be entrusted to a wandering blacksmith who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
What was needed to entrust someone with that sort of work was a reputation built in the town itself.
Thus, the job I accepted was to make at least ten spearheads for the town guard, matching the sample's shape by the deadline one week later.
The material was iron.
Apparently, the blacksmiths' guild would also take responsibility for paying me for any extra spearheads I made.
The blacksmiths' guild would cover the equipment rental, fuel, and material costs, and the payment was one silver coin per spearhead.
The pay was a little low, but I supposed that was about what one could expect for work entrusted to a wandering blacksmith.
That was different from blacksmithing in the Kingdom of Rudoria, where my title as a master blacksmith trained by a master dwarf had spoken for itself.
The quota was just under two a day, but if there was no limit on how many they would buy, I had no reason to hold back.
Following the quota would make this a job worth ten silver coins a week, and after deducting my living expenses, I wouldn't have much left. But if I made twice or three times the quota, things would be entirely different.
The sample spearhead I'd been given wasn't very well made, so I decided to produce as many somewhat better ones as I could.
Since I hadn't done any smithing in quite some time, I threw myself into the work with enthusiasm and made sure to enjoy it.
The heat from the furnace and the sweat running down me felt good, and my concentration grew with every swing of the hammer.
My own skills hadn't dulled as much as I'd expected, either, and the fire spirit living in the furnace cheered me on by crackling and scattering sparks.
Still, sparks were awfully hot when they hit me, so I could have done without that part...
By evening, I had completed five spearheads, with only the polishing and finishing left to do.
I would finish them tomorrow and deliver them after that.
Since tomorrow would also involve polishing and finishing today's spearheads, I could probably make only about four new ones at most.
Once I got a little more accustomed to the work, I should be able to increase the number I made.
Starting partway through the day, the blacksmiths' guild staff took turns coming to watch me work.
Perhaps they were curious because it was something unusual, but the words that came from their mouths were pure praise for my technique.
Goodness, being praised by other people was embarrassing, but it also felt nice.
But when I became absorbed in smithing like this, I suddenly found myself missing Azvald's curses—those of my damn dwarf master.
From a high elf's perspective on time, it really hadn't been that long since we parted.
Lost in sentiment, I walked back to the inn as the blacksmiths' guild staff saw me off.
I hadn't been able to talk with them much because I was so absorbed in my work today, but once I got used to it and my work speed increased, I thought I'd try spending a little more time getting to know them.
I was satisfied with the food at my current inn, but I also wanted to eat at some of the recommended places known only to locals.
It would make me happy if they came along to eat with me when I did.
But setting that aside, I wondered what the inn would serve for dinner tonight.
I would be very happy if it turned out to be white stew.
The breeze felt pleasant against my body, which still held the furnace's heat. I was tired, but my steps felt light.
Yes, this was what a satisfying day felt like.
I was sure I'd sleep well tonight.