novelnext Chapter 90 Hattori's Custom-Made Weapons
Chapter 90 Hattori's Custom-Made Weapons
Chapter 90 Hattori's Custom-Made Weapons
Ron and Geralt looked at each other, their eyes clearly filled with questions.
"Uh... Henry, are you proselytizing?"
Henry turned around. "Sir, no," he said, his face still bearing that simple expression of not knowing what he had just done.
"He is a believer in the eternal fire, and we just briefly exchanged our beliefs," he said, scratching his head somewhat embarrassed.
"Speaking of which, the religious doctrines here are quite crude; he couldn't answer many of the questions."
Ron smiled bitterly to himself. This was a world with magic and monsters, so spreading faith was effortless. Even if you didn't preach, the common people would subconsciously look for something to protect themselves.
In this situation, few religions would focus on refining their doctrines and debating doctrines with the followers of a sect with billions of believers from a previous life. Wouldn't that be courting death?
"Never mind," Ron patted Henry on the shoulder. "It's good that you're alright. Let's go, the Kingfisher's opening ceremony is about to begin."
Ron's worry lessened slightly when he saw Henry's bewildered expression. "Speaking of which, Henry, have you ever played Gwent?"
'
Henry shook his head. "I've seen my friends play it, but I haven't learned how yet."
Ron turned to Geralt, a smile in his eyes. "It's alright. There happens to be a Gwent master here. You can learn from him; you'll enjoy it."
Geralt shrugged helplessly, and the three of them walked out of the alley side by side toward the Kingfisher Tavern.
The opening ceremony of the Kingfisher Tavern has begun, and the copper lamps illuminate the tavern with a warm and bright light.
Dandelion, wearing a deep red velvet coat, stood on the stage, cleared his throat, and spread his arms, his voice echoing through the tavern.
"Distinguished gentlemen and beautiful ladies, welcome to the Kingfisher Tavern, Novigrad's newest and most elegant art sanctuary."
Please raise your glasses! Calade Winery's meticulously crafted blackberry mead, made from black gem berries sourced from the Willenwood forests, will delight your palate. Cheers!
The guests raised their glasses, and several young noblemen whispered among themselves, probably thinking the wine was indeed excellent. Two merchants sitting in the corner were already discussing whether to order a batch to be sent to their private banquet.
A noblewoman wearing a velvet shawl took a sip, turned to her companion and said something, and her companion chuckled softly.
Priscilla walked onto the stage and sat down on a high stool. Her blonde hair shimmered under the lights, and her dark green dress matched the kingfisher pattern on the stage backdrop perfectly.
Her hands glided across the strings, and the hall slowly quieted down. A clear and gentle voice rose from the strings, singing the new lyrics that Dandelion had just written that evening.
"Under the kingfisher's wings, I heard the sound of the Ponta River flowing."
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As Priscilla's song ended, the hall fell silent for a moment, followed by thunderous applause that lasted for a long time.
Dandelion straightened his collar, strode confidently onto the stage, unfurled a parchment covered in scrawled writing, and began to recite his sonnets.
The last syllable of each of his lines rose in pitch, as if he were scoring his own verses. Priscilla sat on a high stool, holding her lute, watching him dance on stage with a smile on her lips.
Zoltan, holding a glass at the bar, raised it towards Bobby. "Bobby, what score would you give that guy's poem?"
The kingfisher lights shone in the night, and the clinking of glasses, the laughter of the guests, and the singing on the stage filled this newly opened tavern.
The next day, sunlight streamed through the rooftops of Novigrad, turning the streets golden. Geralt and Ron walked side by side along the cobblestone path northward, and as they approached Hatori's workshop, they could hear the shouts of dwarves coming from within.
"Geralt, are you changing your weapon too?" Ron glanced at the Witcher's badly worn silver sword.
"No, I'm just a penniless witcher, not as wealthy as you. I'll go fix my silver sword; maybe they'll give me a discount because of you."
"Tsk tsk!" Ron shook his head with a smile. "Why do I hear a sour tone in your words?"
'
"Hmm, you must have misheard."
"Come on," Ron patted Geralt on the shoulder. "That's my workshop, I won't let you spend any money there. How about this, from now on, when our respected Witcher Master goes to any of my properties, just put it on my account."
Geralt glanced at him sideways. "Don't expect me to be too embarrassed to refuse."
"Haha, it's alright," Ron said with a smirk. "Besides supporting the army, I don't spend much money on anything else. If you ever come work for me, I promise you'll never have to worry about money."
Geralt sighed and said nothing more.
The original location of the Herb Inn has changed drastically. The old inn sign has been removed and replaced with a brand new blacksmith shop sign with Hattori's name engraved on it.
The workshop entrance was piled high with forging tools, and dwarven builders were busy moving materials. The interior was still undergoing final finishing touches.
Hatori stood at the door, holding a blueprint in his hand, discussing something with the dwarf foreman. When he saw Ron approaching, he immediately put down the blueprint and went to greet him.
"My lord, you've arrived. I owe you a favor this time; otherwise, I'm afraid I'd never have had the chance to pick up a forging hammer in my life."
Ron waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. I invested in you because it's a real shame that your skills have been wasted."
""
"I understand, but thank you for the opportunity," Hattori wiped his hands. "I mentioned to Mr. Erwin that I'd like to have a weapon forged for you. Do you have any special requirements for the weapon?"
"Hattori, can you forge bows and arrows?" Ron asked. "My sword was forged by a dwarf master, and I have no intention of replacing it at the moment."
"A bow?" Hattori was somewhat surprised. "Sure, what kind of bow do you need?"
"First, it must be sturdy. A regular bow will break after I draw it with all my might a few times. Second, the bow's strength should be over 500 pounds."
Hatori froze, subconsciously wiping the sweat from his forehead, staring at Ron for several seconds, as if quickly going through the bow's data in his mind.
"This... Elven bows are usually between sixty and one hundred pounds. I've never made such an overweight bow before."
"Can you do it?"
Hatori took a deep breath. "Yes, but there are a few problems. First is the material. Ordinary wood probably won't work. We need a composite material with a metal bow. Weight shouldn't be a problem for you, but I don't have a suitable material for the bowstring."
"Would the petrified lizard material work?"
Hatori's eyes lit up. "Of course, or rather, only materials from this kind of monster can withstand this tension. I will use special potions to further enhance the toughness of the materials, but the overall completion time will be a bit long, about a month."
"No problem, I can wait. I'll arrange for Erwin to deliver the materials. You can focus on setting up the workshop."
Ron tilted his head at Geralt. "Oh, by the way, from now on, Geralt, all expenses will be on my tab. Geralt, you can tell Hatori if you have any requests."
Geralt unfastened his silver sword from his back and placed it on the workbench. "My sword needs repair. There are several creases in the blade, and the guard is loose."
Hattori picked up the silver sword, carefully examined the blade, and nodded. "Leave it to me. The craftsmanship is excellent; it's just been neglected for too long."
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