Enough with This Slow Life! I Was Reincarnated as a High Elf and Now I’m Bored: Volume 5 [Complete] by rarutori

Author:rarutori
Language: eng
Format: epub

Long ago, when I’d first approached Oswald and asked him to teach me blacksmithing, I just walked into his shop and said “please!” Thinking back on it, that was a pretty ridiculous way of doing it. I’m quite impressed that it actually worked. I suppose it goes to show that my master had a big heart.

I guess I approached my late master in swordsmanship Kaeha much the same way. At least for magic, it had started from Kawshman approaching me, asking me to teach him blacksmithing. I had thought our meeting was some sort of fate, and ran down that path without a second thought.

But as I was now, I found acting like that was a bit beyond me. Above all, as a member of the nobility, trying to meet Count Marmaros without an appointment would just get me arrested. So instead, I sent the completed cinquedea to him through the blacksmithing guild, asking to be granted an audience. Yes, unlike the past me, I had now learned how to follow the proper procedures.

Three days after I had handed over the dagger, I was invited to Count Marmaros’s manor. It seemed the weapon had caught his interest after all. Honestly, I was a bit relieved. I was more than confident in the piece, of course, but there was still a chance he would receive it poorly.

Making my way to the Count’s estate, I found a large mansion. It had a very calm aura about it, more tasteful than luxurious. But instead of the mansion itself, I was guided to another building on the estate, which looked to be more like a workshop. This was just a guess on my part, but I supposed the Count had elected to meet me in his free time rather than in his official working hours.

While the mansion was certainly where he lived, it was also his work place. This workshop, however, was his own private space where he could pour his heart into his art. The fact he was willing to invite me here during his very limited free time was proof that my cinquedea had struck a chord with him.

When I stepped into the workshop, I saw a man in work clothes taking a chisel and hammer to a partially completed statue. He seemed to be a bit past forty years old. Seeing him absorbed in his work, even his common work clothes didn’t diminish his aura of refinement.

My guide hesitated on whether to call out to his master or not, but I waved him off and took a seat on a nearby chair. While it was certainly the guide’s job to announce that a visitor had arrived, this wasn’t an aristocrat’s manor. This was a private workshop. Though we practiced in different fields, we were both craftsmen. I didn’t want to interrupt him while he was hard at work. But above all, being able to see him at work already was fantastic, even if my lack of experience meant I didn’t understand most of what was happening.

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