—It's the prince! —one of the girls recognized Sidon's name.
Sidon, of course, did not let the opportunity pass.
—See that over there? —he said, pointing at a cart—. I helped bring it here!
Before Eric could say a word, Sidon was already climbing onto the driver's seat.
While he enjoyed himself and the children stared at him as if they were witnessing a living legend, Eric guided the Zora blacksmiths toward a discreet warehouse behind his house.
He opened the doors, and the interior gleamed.
Crates and sacks filled with carefully sorted stones:
Amber
Opal
Topaz
Ruby
Sapphire
Diamond
The blacksmiths' eyes went wide.
—By the currents… —one of them murmured—. —This is…
—Top-grade material —Eric finished—. —Enough to reforge weapons, shields… even full suits of armor.
—Does it cover the deal?
The blacksmiths exchanged a quick glance… then smiled.
—It does —the eldest replied—. —And it leaves a massive surplus.
He raised a finger.
—That would be two hundred and fifty additional metal weapons and armor pieces for you.
—Not counting what's already been delivered, of course.
Eric raised an eyebrow in satisfaction.
He had reached an agreement with the Zora blacksmiths to produce more weapons and armor using the materials he had been collecting for months.
The Zora style was beautiful, especially the finishing on each piece.
It was elegance at its peak.
They did clarify, however, that the one responsible for those finishes was Dagio.
A nearly retired blacksmith who despised Hylians.
Eric didn't mind. Next time, he planned to negotiate with the old man to request a few Ceremonial Tridents, silver greatswords, and silver bows.
Eric fully intended to work the old craftsman hard, in the best possible sense, by providing him with Zonai equipment to make his labor more comfortable.
Even after accounting for the blacksmiths' profits, Eric could hardly believe so many weapons could still be forged.
—You calculated all that just by looking?
The Zora laughed in unison.
—Occupational habit —one said—. —When you've been forging for decades… the materials speak to you.
Eric nodded, satisfied.
—Then we're square.
—More than that —the blacksmith replied—. —We're grateful.
They closed the warehouse.
Outside, Sidon was climbing down from the cart with a smile that refused to fade.
—ERIC! —he shouted—. This is amazing!
Eric shook his head, resigned.
Sidon didn't seem like a prince at all.
Mayor Reede could not believe what he was seeing.
He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't.
Then he closed it.
And finally opened it again.
In front of him, lined across Hateno's plaza, stood entire rows of weapons.
Arranged with meticulous care.
Zora spears with bluish shafts, long and perfectly balanced.
Polished metal shields, resistant to water and impact.
Reinforced steel armor, stacked in complete sets.
Reede blinked.
—…How many? —he finally asked.
Eric, standing beside him, calmly reviewed a list.
—One hundred spears —he replied—. And roughly one hundred and fifty pieces between shields and metal armor.
The mayor slowly turned his head.
—They really gave you all that?
Eric looked up.
—Efficient negotiation.
A short, incredulous laugh escaped Reede before he could stop it.
—When I asked you for supplies… —he said— I didn't imagine you'd come back with half an arsenal.
—Neither did I —Eric admitted—. But the negotiations went well… and the Zora keep their word.
Reede took a deep breath and walked between the rows of weapons, running his hand along a spear as if touching something sacred.
—They're beautiful —he murmured.
Then he noticed the other crates.
Sturdy, sealed with wax and clearly marked.
Villagers were already unloading them from the carts, placing them in covered areas.
Reede approached one and read the label.
—Dried fish.
—Salted fish.
—Smoked fish…
He glanced sideways at Eric.
—That's a lot of fish.
Eric smiled.
—I told you winter would be… maritime.
Reede shook his head, but this time there was relief in his expression.
—It's not ideal —he said—. But it's food that keeps.
Eric pointed at several smaller crates.
—These are gifts from the king —he added—.
Inside were edible seaweed, hardy roots resistant to moisture, mineral salt, and a few local spices from the Zora Domain that had survived the isolation. It wasn't abundant, but it was variety.
And in hard times, variety was nearly a luxury.
—My gods… You made friends with the Zora in no time.
Eric showed a self-satisfied smile.
….
The militias assembled at dusk.
They weren't many. Men and women who, until recently, had defended the village with worn tools and mismatched weapons. Now they stood straight, facing forward.
—Once more people join —Eric said— we'll be able to set up our own military camp.
Reede was left speechless.
—Your ambition isn't small.
—I plan to overthrow you in the future, so enjoy the years you have left.
Reede rolled his eyes.
—What are you going to do, hold elections? —he mocked.
Eric didn't flinch.
—They won't be necessary. Trust me.
The mayor rolled his eyes again.
—As long as it's for the good of the village, I don't mind eventually letting you lead us. But for now, you're still in diapers… though you're on the right path.
Eric made a face of disgust.
—Old man, that's no fun. You're supposed to say, "You'll take over over my dead body."
They both laughed afterward.
The distribution was formal.
One spear per person, and a shield assigned.
Eric later proposed creating a workshop for maintenance and cleaning.
But first, a few blacksmiths from Hateno would need to go learn from the Zora.
Meanwhile…
The Zora watched from the side, quietly proud to see their creations in use.
Many had believed Eric was lying about using the weapons for the village's benefit and would instead sell them.
But seeing this scene, their concern proved unfounded.
—Take care of them. Train. And remember, they're not for showing off —Mayor Reede said.
One of the militiamen raised his spear, surprised by how manageable it felt.
—It's… perfect.
Eric nodded.
The remaining armor was carried to the new warehouses, stored carefully.