Roy walk casually on the open streets, behind him followed a long line of women wearing flowing wight gowns, and on their back bear the title of a lowly servant, yet in truth, their authority far surpasses even the seven ministries themselves.
The altar servers of the Holy ministry, the servants who served directly under Roy, now wildly known as the great, powerful Lord Zudra, are nothing less than the angels of God, messengers, entertainers, and even secretaries.
Bearing such a title, mortal authority would never stand a chance.
With the establishment of Zudrath City, the once secluded village has suddenly changed the course of the map, all because of a modern, city boy who had intervene in other people's businesses, and even deliberately claiming himself as a God.
Roy stood in front of a large workshop, even from outside, he could hear the constant clanging of metals, even the altar servers could feel the rising heat of furnaces as burning, red-hot rods were hammered almost endlessly until it formed a sharp blade, then dipped into a basin of water which created a violent hissing sound that releases steam upward.
"Sum Garp, how is progress going?"
Roy said casually, wearing a gentle, sweet smile as if greeting a friend that does not care about busyness.
When Sum Garp heard Roy's voice, he immediately spun around and dropped his almost finished sword, just to sprint rapidly before bowing in front of Roy with one knee.
"Reporting, Lord Zudra." Sum Garp said, his words overlapped each other as he speak rapidly, barely containing his excitement, "Progress has been very well, in the past few days, we have managed to forge two hundred and fifty swords, and six hundred complete set of armor."
Roy was momentarily shocked, disbelief flickered in his eyes as he tried to process the words.
"Wow, you gusy really work hard."
Sum Garp's face flashed red, being praised by Lord Zudra was a reward no mortal could openly receive, such words carried divine authority and presence, like a divine maiden singing and dancing on a river for only once in a million years.
Such motivation could misfire a man's senses, it could lead them to push their selves to the limit so they could receive those heavenly praise once more, on the surface, it sounds like an excellent motivator, yet underneath, it could kill a man out of overwhelming fatigue or lack of rest, and Roy could not let his little people die, whom he had protected and fed, and merely because of his words.
"Sum Garp, there is no need to rush on this order, the soldiers still need some time before they complete their training. After Rak Mhan reshapes them into a proper military unit, they would not be able to get a hold of this weapons, take your time, rest properly and recruit more workers."
Roy said, tapping Sum Garp's shoulder slightly as he carried the tone of worried father.
Sum Garp nodded slowly, both accepting the God's words with absolute obedience while also silently rejecting the advice.
The workshop was still bursting with flames as Roy walk casually, slowly opening a small door that led to the storage room, the storage room is where all finished products were stacked and properly arranged, inside, countless armor stands stood firmly in an orderly row, draped in full set of iron armor like a soldier that had walked the medieval battlefields, and among them, numerous wooden barrels also stood in a neat column, filled with iron sharp swords.
Roy picked up a sword with practiced ease, swinging and slashing on empty air as he tested it's durability and effectiveness.
He tried swingingit on a large, wooden pillar, attempting to cut the log.
With a voilent thud, the sword shattered into pieces as metal scraps were sent flying and plunged into planks and walls.
Sum Garp and the workers instinctively duck down, knowing if those metal shards were to hit their heads, it would instantly unalive them.
Roy flipped the blade in multiple angles, he let out a deep sigh, disappointment visible in his breath.
"These swords aren't suitable for me."
Roy said, tossing the broken sword back into the wooden barrels as he turned his head toward Sum Garp.
"This will be your new assignment, you will forge two swords that are suitable for me to use. They should be perfectly identical and have the safe durability and sharpness."
Sum Garp immediately nodded, accepting the divine task with absolute obedience as the workers tossed large metal rods until it burned red-hot, hammering them constantly with excessive force as sharp edges began to take shape.
"We will dedicate ourselves entirely onto forging Lord Zudra's twin divine blades."
The workers shouted enthusiastically, as if a surge of energy seem to flood back inside their veins.
And soon, the workshop bustled again as workers and blacksmith prepared the divine assignment.
---
Outside the workshop, the streets of Zudrath City radiated a different atmosphere, something that is totally different from chaos, one which can only be explained as...odd
Yet Roy did not show even a flicker of concern, for this land is the only oasis in this war-ravaged lands, normally, he would do everything he can to preserve peace.
A figure suddenly pushed it's way through the crowd, wearing a set of armor, clearly thinned out due to the years of constant battle.
Rak Mhan, the Vice-minister of the Military Ministry, along with minister Sor Sogon, walked toward Roy with an unhurried pace.
Sor Sogon's lips curved into a deep smile, barely containing his excitement as he quickened his pace slightly before bowing in on knee.
"Lord Zudra, the soldier's have finnaly completed their training."
Sor Sogon said, his voice loud yet steady as he relayed the report with enthusiastic urgency.
"They have now become stronger, refined and disciplined. They are ready to experience their first battle."
Hearing those words overwhelmed Roy with both disbelief and relief.
Stunned by the soldiers progress, yet reassured that the city has finally gained a proper military unit, capable of both defense and offense.