The rarity of mithril weapons in the North, where the material was mined, only confirmed the old saying about the cobbler with no shoes. The northern kingdoms, which mined the lion's share of the precious metal, hardly used it themselves, selling the products to the South.
Dwarven pattern-welded steel was inferior to human mithril in every respect. The two men were even a bit disappointed when the much-praised material turned out to be good, but far from fantastic in its characteristics.
— Leonid will be upset. He had plans for pattern-welded steel.
— He wanted to make it himself, and now he doesn't need to waste time on that. Just buy it. It's even cheaper because it's considered "feminine metal," — Sergey chuckled.
— Don't laugh. The pattern-welded steel exists, but the technology doesn't.
— And it's not needed. Mithril is better in every way. We'll steal the ore, get our mithril, make weapons for your eagles, and we won't need any pattern-welded technology for free.
— You speak beautifully. But we're still in a tough spot, with neither pattern-welded steel nor mithril.
— Give it time!
— Until the Second Coming of Vampires in this world?
— Why are you so bitter?
— Inspecting the prisoners.
— And?
The chief constable opened his mouth to respond but couldn't formulate his thoughts, and, fiddling with the pattern-welded and mithril daggers, sat down at the table.
— You see, after the rebellion, they don't fear us... No, that's not it... They still fear us. But they also worship us. We are like a living embodiment of their ambitions and dreams.
— Is it like with Stefania?
— Almost. The girl liked our company in contrast to what she was used to; she perceived our behavior and customs as right. But these people see in us their unrealized life plans. We are strong, independent, proud beings who disregard their usual values. That's how they want to see themselves. That's how they want Demur to see them. And by the way, they have stopped praying to him.
— And what does that mean for us? I don't understand why it upsets you so much.
— Remember Sasha's speech about our purpose to kill?
— Yes.
— Well, besides destroying everything and everyone around us, we also exert a strong cultural influence on our surroundings. After spending a year in captivity with us, people want to be like us.
— Vampires?
— They don't think about that; we don't suggest it. But they want to be like us.
— I still don't understand why this bothers you so much.
— It might seem strange coming from a guard, but not everything in the world is decided by fists, Sergey, far from it.
The scout approached the window and, squinting, looked out at Mur.
— Well, yes. You can achieve much more with a kind word and a pistol than with just a pistol, — he whispered quietly.
Despite the initial successes of the besiegers, the fortress showed no signs of requesting surrender by nightfall. Although after ten hours of battle, they had lost another five shields and at least three combat artifacts on the walls had been destroyed.
But as the darkness of night enveloped the camp, the defenders' strategies came into play. Magical mines, buried in various places around the fortress in advance. The rebellious archmage had no intention of surrendering easily. The night turned into hell.
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