Chapter 104 The Duke Family’s Heir and the Royal Ban
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Oh, my! I never imagined that the renowned Grimlock-sama would personally visit someone like me! What an honor. I’ve been hoping for the chance to have a proper conversation with you!”
Bartholomeus Crowley’s round face lit up with an approachable smile as he welcomed me with genuine warmth.
…He’s making a surprisingly good impression.
I’d expected to be met with hostility from the Student Council members and the Peace Faction, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
I decided to settle in for a proper chat with him in the Student Council room. By the window, at the central council president’s desk, Elenor and Elliot were clearly eavesdropping—but since I had no intention of discussing anything incriminating, I didn’t particularly care.
Bartholomeus and I took seats at the table in the center of the room, and I raised the cup of fine tea he’d personally prepared to my lips. The rich aroma that teased my nostrils was likely high-grade tea leaves from the Royal Capital. In the quiet room, the soft clink of a cup returning to its saucer echoed gently.
”So then, Grimlock-sama,” Bartholomeus said, his tone warm and inquisitive. “What brings you here?”
”I’ll get straight to the point,” I replied, setting down my cup. “I’d like to commission a custom weapon from the dwarf smiths living on your estate.”
I wasted no time in stating my business.
”I see,” Bartholomeus said, nodding thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of your illustrious exploits, Grimlock-sama. Naturally, you’d be seeking something special worthy of your reputation.”
”Yes,” I agreed. “I have a beloved sword I’ve used since childhood, but lately I’ve wanted a unique blade that truly suits me.”
More than anything, the words “custom weapon” just sounded cool.
”I understand,” Bartholomeus said, his expression turning contemplative. “So you wish to commission a master dwarf smith to craft it… however…”
Bartholomeus trailed off, and his gentle smile took on a note of embarrassment.
”…I’m terribly sorry, Grimlock-sama,” he continued, his voice laced with genuine regret, “but at present, weapon production by the dwarves is subject to strict restrictions imposed by the Royal Family. It pains me greatly, but I cannot accept your commission.”
Bartholomeus Crowley kept glancing toward Elenor, who stood right beside us, as he delivered this news. Following his gaze, I saw Elenor shoot me a blank, expressionless look.
—Restrictions? When did those get put in place?
”Fool,” Elliot piped up from the corner of the room, his voice dripping with smug condescension. “With you Pro-War Faction types making suspicious moves these days, did you really think the Royal Family wouldn’t respond? They’ve been implementing various countermeasures given the current situation.”
From behind Elenor, Elliot’s tone oozed with the superiority of someone who believed he’d outmaneuvered me.
”No doubt you were plotting to mass-order weapons from the dwarves through the Crowley Duchy for your little Rebellion scheme,” he declared, his voice swelling with self-satisfaction. “How unfortunate. Your petty schemes have been thwarted by my brilliant proposal. I’ve already taken the lead—my victory!”
…Ah, I see.
So that’s how it is.
I’d just wanted a single custom weapon for myself, but they’d apparently misunderstood, thinking I’d come to place a mass order for Rebellion preparations. Well, I suppose it’s only natural they wouldn’t want to hand over useful weapons to someone who might become an enemy in the future.
”Hey, Elliot,” Elenor said, her voice a sharp whisper. “Don’t bring that up here. You idiot.”
At her cutting tone, Elliot flinched momentarily—like a puppy being scolded by its owner, shrinking back dejectedly.
This restriction on weapon production probably wasn’t an absolute secret. But it must have been circulated as an informal, unofficial directive designed to avoid provoking us Pro-War Faction nobles. Elliot, driven by his personal rivalry with me, had let it slip.
”Thank you for the valuable information,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “you shitty glasses-wearing bastard.”
I offered Elliot my heartfelt (and deeply sarcastic) gratitude before turning back to Bartholomeus.
”If that’s the case,” I continued, “I can’t exactly force the issue. I’ll give up on this request.”
”…Eh?” Bartholomeus’s round eyes widened with astonishment. “You’re giving up that easily? You’re not angry?”
He must have expected me to put up a fight.
”No,” I replied calmly. “There’s nothing to be angry about.”
In fact, I thought the Royal Family’s measures were perfectly reasonable.
I could probably make a scene, claim unfair treatment, and push through to get at least one sword made. But if I did that, I might end up with a shoddy piece of work in retaliation. Forcing the issue wouldn’t lead to anything good.
”Ah, and let me make one thing clear to avoid any misunderstanding,” I added, raising a hand. “What I came here to commission—truly—was just a single sword. For myself. That’s all. I wanted a magic sword—one that could draw out various special effects by channeling my own mana into it. Just one.”
”Hmph!” Elliot scoffed, refusing to back down. “Save your transparent lies! What use would a Zero Mana waste like you have for such a masterpiece? It’d be pearls before swine! Your true aim was mass weapon purchases! That sinister plot of yours has been completely thwarted in advance by my brilliant proposal!”
Elliot remained smug to the very end. I completely ignored the shitty glasses-wearing bastard who’d won his little victory on a foundation of misunderstanding and assumptions, and made to rise from my chair after offering my farewells to Elenor and Bartholomeus.
”—Please wait, Grimlock-sama.”
Bartholomeus stopped me. His voice had shifted from its previous gentle tone, now carrying something more serious.
”Yes?” I asked, turning back.
”If you truly desire a blade meant for you alone,” Bartholomeus said, his expression earnest, “I don’t think you need to limit yourself to the dwarf smiths on my estate. Dwarves live in small numbers across various regions, not just here. Many are skilled craftsmen, and if you can prepare quality magical materials, they should be able to create something quite exceptional.”
I see.
That’s another angle.
Dwarves don’t only live in the Crowley Duchy’s autonomous territory. And according to Bartholomeus, magical weapon performance depends not only on the smith’s skill but also heavily on the quality of the magical materials used.
Dwarves have many talented craftsmen. Even without traveling to their homeland, there should be decent smiths here in the Royal Capital.
The real key, then, is the magical materials used to impart special properties.
This was good information.
I began formulating my next plan in my mind. This time, I offered Bartholomeus my genuine thanks before taking my leave from the Student Council room.
—
Summary:
Grimlock visits Bartholomeus Crowley seeking a custom weapon from dwarf smiths, only to discover the Royal Family has imposed strict restrictions on dwarf weapon production. Elliot smugly reveals he proposed the countermeasure, believing Grimlock plans mass weapon orders for rebellion. After Bartholomeus suggests finding dwarf smiths outside the Crowley Duchy and focusing on quality magical materials instead, Grimlock leaves with a new plan forming—but the unresolved question remains whether he can secure both a skilled smith and rare materials to craft his ideal blade.
—
Trivia:
Grimlock’s true request was a single custom weapon, not a mass order—he clarifies this twice.
The weapon production restriction is an informal, unofficial directive, not an absolute public law.
Bartholomeus Crowley is genuinely hospitable and helpful, despite being a Duke family heir.
Elliot’s smug outburst reveals classified information that was meant to remain discreet.
The Royal Family implemented restrictions specifically in response to Pro-War Faction activities.
Dwarf smiths exist outside the Crowley Duchy’s autonomous territory across various regions.
Magic weapon quality depends equally on the smith’s skill and the quality of magical materials used.
Grimlock is pragmatic—he accepts the restriction without protest to avoid receiving a substandard weapon.
Elenor scolds Elliot for his loose tongue, showing she’s more politically cautious than him.
The Crowley Duchy has a significant dwarf population specializing in smithing.
Notes:
• Grimlock – Xenos’s family name.
• Bartholomeus – First son of the Crowley family and student council member, which governs the Eisen mountain range where dwarves reside. Described as a plump, round-faced, harmless-looking noble with refined features befitting his high-ranking lineage. Wears a perpetually polished, gentle smile that softens the atmosphere around him. Member of the Crowley family who provided Xenos with information about dwarf blacksmiths in the Royal Capital.
• Crowley – Bartholomeus’ family name.
• Elenor – Princess Elenor, the haughty, analytical “Saint of Light” and sister to Liliana, is a silver-blonde swordswoman and healer with gray-blue eyes. Though a noble princess and Grimlock’s fiancée, she is the protagonist’s submissive, magic-sealed slave. A tsundere torn between royal dignity and affection for Xenos, she balances sharp retorts with intense devotion, often appearing in revealing cosplay.
• Elliot – Elliot Valias, a tall, slender, blue-haired noble and intellectual aide to Prince Liam, masks his deep, unrequited love for Elenor with crude, condescending arrogance. A pseudo-intellectual prone to quick accusations, he harbors murderous, freezing hostility toward Xenos Grimlock, driven by intense jealousy over Xenos’s intimacy with Elenor.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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