The grease was causing a lot of smoke, and considering the size of this living mass of fat, Malin’s backing off saved his respiratory system. Some who were legends in their own right tried to observe up close, only to be eventually supported away from the scene by soldiers in full trade gear and protective biochemical masks.
"Quite daring." Faye and Nova standing beside Malin commented on how bold these legends were.
"Did you see? Those are legends from noble families, oblivious to the ways of the world. Look at those who backed off further; they are legends who came from commoner backgrounds and rose through the Church." Malin was well aware of this dichotomy, and his explanation elicited knowing smiles from the two ladies.
Regardless, the death of the mother rat signified the total defeat of this invading Rat-man force. Malin didn’t know what losses the Great Horned Rat would suffer because of these Rat-men, but judging from the reward given by the Church of Justice via Nameless, they must be quite pleased—Malin received a gold leaf ribbon, symbolizing his victory over an enemy of the God of Justice.
Indeed, that was to be expected. Faye mentioned that her Rat-man maids had been acting oddly those days, which in hindsight proved that the Rat-men seemed to have been tampered with. Naturally, as the Skaven were vanquished, the God of Justice must have inflicted considerable damage on the Great Horned Rat, and the Rat-man maids had reverted to their normal state over the past few days.
The Church of the War God acquired the Rat-man heads as war trophies. Malin thought the War God might not be too pleased—after all, his garden would hardly appreciate diseased heads as fertilizer. Yet, in the end, the deity bestowed divine grace and gifted several Holy Artifacts—judging from the bloodstains, these must have been plundered from some neutral deity.
Well, it made sense. If the War God had to dig deep into his own pockets for rewards, probably half the hall of old and young nobles would be undergoing some sort of aberration while receiving their Holy Artifacts.
And the other half? They probably couldn’t escape either. I fear they’d already turned into Chaos units.
After the battle, orders from the elves gave Malin a headache—the elves had always adhered to the principle that making their own was better than buying, mainly because most of Malin’s workshop craftsmen were Dwarves, and elves didn’t appreciate Dwarven craftsmanship, deeming it too brutish and disrespectful to aesthetics.
But there’s no denying that this product was the remedy for all sorts of noncompliance.
Thus, the Elvish ambassador stated they could provide at least two thousand craftsmen, simply asking Malin to open the fifth workshop. Like with the Dwarves, Malin could use the blueprints for collaboration.
The Great Craftsman of the Dwarves nearly had a PTSD episode on the spot—as a close partner of Malin, who the Dwarves regard as the God of Craftsmen, they had enjoyed Malin’s favor exclusively. Even the Half-human rascals had never been graced with their own workshop term (most Half-humans served as support craftsmen, lacking the strength to wield big hammers and typically responsible for making parts).
And here the elves come with two thousand craftsmen—do they even have that many craftsmen?!
The Great Craftsman and the Elvish ambassador started bickering on the spot, not resorting to blows even in Malin’s presence, but their rapid Dwarven and Elvish languages resulted in an argument that gave Malin a massive headache.
Of course, what was more exasperating was that both individuals clearly understood each other’s language, yet still chose to argue in their own tongues.
Speaking a foreign language is quite impressive, isn’t it?
Malin truly didn’t understand—if they’d slow down, he might have grasped what they were saying, but their rapid-fire exchange was too much for him, ultimately leading him to decide not to intervene.
After about half an hour of their verbal thunderstorm, they finally had their fill of arguing. They turned to Malin and in unison asked, "Mr. Malin, don’t you think I’m right?"
It was at this moment that Nova stepped forward, "Malin and I didn’t really understand what you two were saying."
Her emotive explanation prompted both gentlemen to slap their own faces simultaneously.
"Please believe us, Mr. Malin, the elves have sufficient craftsmen, and the young children can also join in. If you don’t mind, with just a few years’ time, we can train even more craftsmen," the elven ambassador said with a serious expression on his face.
"Apprentices, elves? If that’s the case, our dwarven kids who aren’t yet grown can also swing a great hammer. Tens of thousands of apprentices can serve in Mr. Malin’s grand endeavor!" the dwarven Great Craftsman said with disdain.
"We excel at making the fine works your craftsmen cannot make," the elven ambassador retorted, raising his chin to the dwarven Great Craftsman.
"Yeah, I hope you have the strength to hollow out a gun barrel," the dwarven Great Craftsman replied with a dwarven-style retort.
"What are you trying to do, dwarf? "
"That’s what I should be asking you, pointy-ear," the latter shot back.
Malin clicked his tongue and then coughed, drawing the attention of the two gentlemen away from each other.
"I understand your feelings, Great Craftsman. The dwarves have always been my most important allies, but you must also understand that a new Tide of the Dead is gathering. This time, the rat-men from foreign lands are the best example. We must arm all who are willing to fight for this world, and it’s clear that the elven ambassador and his people are among them," Malin said, and with a nod from the Great Craftsman, he turned his gaze to the elven ambassador: "And you, Mr. Ambassador, your honesty and generosity please me. I accept your offer, and your kin will be in charge of the fifth workshop. I also have some special items for you to handle. I know the dwarves can do it too, but as you said, I need a pair of hands that can reduce the margin of error to several zeroes after the decimal. You can gather the craftsmen, and I will give you the blueprints. In the coming time, you will need to complete thousands of the items I wish to make."
"Thousands, Your Excellency? That seems a bit few," the ambassador expressed his doubt, hand on chest.
"It is a bit few, but I am asking you to make them to meet the needs of both your people and the dwarves. The item I want made is called a lathe," Malin said, looking at the dwarven Great Craftsman and the elven ambassador before him.
"Mr. Malin, what is its use?" the dwarf asked, naturally very concerned upon hearing that this thing was also related to them.
"It is a marvelous thing that will make every gun barrel you manufacture interchangeable with all rifles of the same type, Great Craftsman. Have you ever thought, a gun barrel made by a dwarf, a gunstock crafted by an elf, and gun parts made by a half-human, all assembled into the same rifle, and it could even use magazines made by humans, with everything fitting together perfectly, without any errors? Using a lathe can free your hands, so you no longer have to swing your crafting hammers in great amounts or manually drill a gun barrel for an entire day. As long as the process is right, not a single barrel would be so flawed as to be discarded," he explained.
"This indeed surpasses my imagination. In my memory, a gun has always been the work of a skilled craftsman from start to finish, and what you say about no barrel being discarded... sounds like an incredibly beautiful dream," the Great Craftsman said, hands on his hips, showing a measure of astonishment.
"If the lathe has such effects as you describe, Your Excellency, I believe our craftsmen would devote themselves wholeheartedly to making them for you. You can count on us," the elven ambassador was clearly moved.
"Very well, please gather your craftsmen with all haste, Mr. Ambassador. And Great Craftsman, you can start some preliminary work as well. You can make a lathe as a proof of concept."
With Malin’s assurance, the two legendary gentlemen ceased their argument and chose to prepare for the tasks that Malin had laid out for them.
Nova looked at Malin: "My dear, what else is there that I don’t know about?"
"This? I think there’s quite a bit," Malin smiled.
At least before you ruled over my stomach, there indeed was quite a bit.