Ch.20Warm Winter

When people think of winter, they typically imagine snow-covered paths, women bundled in thick layers, and bone-chilling cold.

Yet here in early December, despite the heavy snowfall, there were people wiping sweat from their bare upper bodies—the workers of the Steelyard.

“Argh! It’s too hot!”

“If you’re that hot, go outside and jump into the snow! That’ll cool you down a bit!”

“Aaaaargh!”

Hearing this, one of the ironworkers screamed and leaped into a pile of snow outside. The snow immediately began to melt from his overheated body, cooling his temperature.

“Haaah… I think I’ll live…”

“If you’re going to live, hurry back! We need to process all this molten iron by the end of the day!”

“Ugh! Now I feel like I’m dying!”

“If you don’t come back, you really will die!!”

No matter how cold winter might be, working right next to molten iron exceeding 1538°C meant these workers suffered from the risk of heat stroke year-round.

Naturally, they lost significant amounts of water and salt, which is why oak barrels of properly diluted saltwater stood ready nearby.

The ironworker who had jumped into the snow returned to the worksite after gulping down the refreshingly cool saltwater.

“Shouldn’t winter be cold? Why is it so hot in here?”

“Did you think a place that melts iron would be like a cool spa? Stop complaining and keep an eye on the slag outlet! If any slag gets mixed in, we’ll all be torn limb from limb!”

“Urgh…”

For reference, this was actually true.

*

Bustling noise!

A tavern in Amurtat.

Despite the rich food aromas permeating this newly constructed building, the faint smell of fresh wood still lingered. Over a hundred people had taken seats, and the tables were laden with food.

“Miss! Three beers over here!”

“Coming right up!”

The recent establishment of more than thirty taverns in Amurtat was a new development. Though the city’s population had grown, not everyone was a daily drinker, so ten taverns would have been sufficient for the city’s residents.

However, those walking through Amurtat now weren’t just citizens.

The increase in taverns was to accommodate the daily influx of merchants and adventurers. This particular tavern, despite being less than three weeks old, was already thriving—a testament to Amurtat’s prosperity.

“So, you’ve also come to Amurtat for iron?”

“That’s right. Though I didn’t expect the five-ton limit regulation. Still, for a wandering merchant like me with just a one-horse cart, a few hundred kilograms is plenty.”

“Sigh… Amurtat is so cold, though. Nothing like Fahrenheit. It wasn’t nearly this cold there…”

“It’s because of the wind blowing from the east. There’s a sea to the east. The seasonal winds make it even colder in winter.”

“Ah… came at a bad time, I guess.”

Most of the people chatting were merchants. Every single one had come to purchase Amurtat’s iron. They had received waiting tickets from the Amurtat government and were now simply waiting for their allotted iron to be produced.

“One oatmeal with meat on top. And mulled wine, please.”

“That’ll be three copper coins!”

“Damn. Expensive.”

The remaining seats were occupied by adventurers either escorting merchants or seeking work opportunities.

Those looking for work had signed contracts to labor in quarries and iron mines throughout winter and were now working diligently. The adventurers hired as merchant escorts were passing time in the tavern, having late meals with their employers.

Bang!

Just then, a uniformed official entered the tavern holding a parchment, and at the sound of the door opening, all the merchants turned to look at him.

“Numbers 109! 110! 111! Follow me!”

“Oh! That’s me!”

“Finally!”

The merchants holding the called numbers stood up, and the adventurers escorting them rose as well.

It was time to collect their iron.

*

“Heh heh heh… according to plan.”

I was trembling with excitement as I sensed the gold, silver, and copper coins piling up in the treasury in real-time.

To be clear, I was merely trembling with excitement. Definitely not experiencing any sort of orgasm.

At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before we could bring in the equipment and technicians capable of producing steel beyond just iron.

Once that happened, Amurtat iron, already superior to regular iron, would soon be surpassed by Amurtat steel, creating a hierarchy: iron – Amurtat iron – steel – Amurtat steel.

Of course, in this world where demons actually exist, supreme metals like orichalcum and adamantium are real, as are enchanted alloys, holy metals infused with sacred energy, and magical iron imbued with arcane power. So even if Amurtat produced high-quality iron and steel, direct comparisons with such materials would be impossible.

But precisely because of this, Amurtat metals could secure a unique position in the market.

By exploiting the psychology of people willing to go into debt for luxury items—commonly called “all-in” purchases.

To explain: metals like orichalcum and adamantium are virtually impossible for ordinary people to obtain, being both rare and difficult to refine.

Even among dwarves, most have never seen these metals in person, let alone refined them.

As for enchanted alloys, holy metals, and magical iron—these are exclusively produced by the Alchemist Guild, the Church, and the Magic Tower respectively. Their production is so tightly controlled that even monarchs can’t access them without good relations with these organizations.

However, Amurtat metals are essentially just “exceptionally well-made iron or steel,” making them attainable for ordinary people willing to break into their savings.

In other words, we’re creating “mass-market luxury goods.”

Rather than making people think, “How could anyone afford that?” we want them thinking, “How much would I need to save to buy that?”

And if they save up that money and reinvest it in my kingdom, it’s not impossible for Amurtat to become a nation of ten million.

“Heh heh… But eventually, rumors always fade.”

Yet I couldn’t be entirely optimistic.

As always, rumors eventually die down, and the day will come when Amurtat iron no longer appears as attractive to merchants.

So what should I do to prevent this?

Simple. Create a “legend.”

Just look at the heroes in myths—what kind of weapons do they all possess? Weapons made of orichalcum or adamantium.

The reason merchants can sell so effectively is that they often claim, “This had such-and-such effect when so-and-so used it, so it’ll be perfect for you!” Rare materials like orichalcum and adamantium prove their power through stories.

So why not create similar stories for our products?

I’m not suggesting writing actual fiction. Rather, just as modern luxury companies sponsor celebrities, we’ll provide our products to important figures.

“Advisor!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“How are the preparations I ordered coming along?”

“Almost complete. Gathering the information took quite some time, but…”

“Well, we have plenty of time, so prepare at your leisure. As they say, ‘more haste, less speed.'”

My current plan is to collect the achievements of all the heroes and rulers we can find, craft swords from Amurtat iron, and present them as gifts to these individuals.

Of course, since we’re collecting rumors, none of the information has been fact-checked, but since our goal is promotion, a little exaggeration doesn’t matter.

If they use the gifted swords, the promotional effect will be tremendous. Even if they don’t, they’ll still cherish and show off a gift from a sovereign ruler.

For heroic adventurers, we’ll send relatively modest designs, while for rulers, we’ll create elaborately decorated pieces.

Adventurers might need stealth or infiltration where flashiness would be problematic, but rulers have no such concerns.