Volume 8
Chapter 29
Confronted with this bizarre scene involving his childhood friend, Nozomu watched Lisa and the dwarf who appeared to be the workshop's master with a suspicious expression. The dwarf's glare at Lisa was harsh, and she, as if trying to escape, was frantically darting her eyes all over the place, avoiding his gaze. What on earth has my childhood friend done now? Nozomu desperately suppressed the sigh rising in his throat and turned his gaze to the person who had clearly caused the problem.
"Lisa, what did
you do? That dwarven owner looks absolutely furious."
"B-By the way!
Nozomu, what are you doing in a run-down smithy like this?"
"Sorry for being
'run-down'! It seems you haven't learned your lesson..."
Lisa tried to forcibly
change the subject, but the dwarf, who was clearly furious, began to glare at
Lisa even more harshly. Dwarves are short even as adults, and this one only
came up to Nozomu's chest or stomach. But the intimidation he exuded from that
short frame was enough to make even Nozomu, who wasn't the target, hold his
breath. Unable to withstand Wandor's pressure, Lisa zipped like the wind and
hid behind Nozomu.
"Lisa, what are
you doing?"
"Uhm,
ehehehe..."
Lisa tried to gloss
over it with a wry smile, but when Nozomu stared hard at her, she seemed to
resign herself to her fate and began to haltingly explain why she was there.
"This is my
favorite weapons shop."
"Oh..."
According to Lisa, the
dwarf's name was Wandor Kaul, and he was one of the most skilled smiths in the
Craftsman's District. However, his personality was that of a stubborn craftsman
to the core, and he didn't just make weapons for any client. Dwarves, in
general, are often difficult, and Wandor seemed to be no exception to that
temperament. Conversely, this meant Lisa was recognized by Wandor enough for
him to make weapons for her. So why was the dwarf in question so furious? Anri
voiced Nozomu's thoughts.
"Wandor-sa~n,
what on earth did Lisa-san do?"
"This clumsy oaf
broke the weapon I just newly forged for her!"
In response to Anri's
question, Wandor thrust out Lisa's sword, which was broken in half. The broken
sword wasn't just snapped; the blade was cracked all over and looked melted as
if exposed to high heat. It was a terrible sight. Just what kind of use did she put it to, I wonder? Another question
popped into Nozomu's mind. Still, it was a weapon. If used, it would wear down,
and breaking in the process was unavoidable. Certainly, from the craftsman's
perspective, having one's weapon broken wouldn't feel good, but weapons and
armor are, by and large, consumables. They would all break eventually.
"I understand
your anger, but since it's a weapon, isn't it inevitable that it will
break?"
"I know that! The
problem is that this idiot brings me a broken weapon once every three
days!"
It seemed Wandor
wasn't angry that the weapon itself broke, but that the frequency was abnormal.
Nozomu glanced at Lisa, who was hiding behind him. She averted her gaze and
started whistling. Seeing her reaction, Nozomu was convinced that what Wandor
said was true.
"Just what kind
of use breaks a weapon that often?"
"Uh, well. I was
practicing 'Nivea’s Demonic Hand' and
failed... But hey, it can't be helped! Like you said, Nozomu, anything with a
form will eventually break!"
Lisa grinned cheekily,
sticking her tongue out, trying to smooth it over. Wandor's fist exploded. With
a magnificent leap unfitting of his short stature, the dwarf brought his fist
down directly on Lisa's head.
"Owww!"
"You fool! Making
excuses for your own lack of skill in handling your weapon!"
Lisa cried out in sharp
pain, clutching her head, as Wandor erupted once more.
"Uuu, I knew it
was reckless, but I just felt like I had to try!"
According to Lisa,
this abnormal frequency of weapon destruction was the result of her getting too
enthusiastic about experimenting with Nivea’s
Demonic Hand. When he asked for details, it seemed Lisa was trying to see
if she could more precisely converge the magic enhanced by Nivea’s Demonic Hand. Lisa already excelled in firepower, and her
breakthrough power when using Nivea’s
Demonic Hand could momentarily reach S-Rank. This was clear from how she
had delivered the final blow when Nozomu rampaged. And so, Lisa was trying to
further refine her Nivea’s Demonic Hand.
What she referenced was Nozomu's Phantom
and Irisdina's magic sword. Both Phantom
and Lunar Eclipse Night require
extremely precise control. Watching Nozomu and Irisdina, it was easy to
understand that improving control was directly linked to improving power. At
the same time, that level of precision was beyond Lisa's current reach, and she
said her spirit of adventure tingled at the challenge. However, Lisa's magical
aptitude leans more toward power than control. Therefore, creating a refined
magic sword like Irisdina's is difficult for her. So, what to do? After
agonizing over it, Lisa decided to draw a magic formula on her own sword with
ink, to compensate for her lack of control. She tried to emulate the magic
power control via magic circles that Tom had been doing. However, when she
tried, it didn't work like Tom's high-quality versions, and the magic power she
poured in just leaked out like water from a broken bucket. Unavoidably, Lisa
begged Tom for help. He engraved a part of the control formula Tima used onto
her sword, but then she ran into a new problem: she couldn't activate it. The
new formula Tom had created, including the hybrid formula, was currently based
on the premise that the user had Tima-level magic power. Thus, she lacked the
magic power needed to activate it.
"Why didn't you
just engrave a normal control formula?"
"Well, you know
how my magic is biased toward fire, right? And I thought Tima-san's formula
would be strong enough to handle Nivea’s
Demonic Hand..."
There are all sorts of
magic control formulas, from all times and places. Some act as circuits for
activating magic circles, while others are suited for various attributes.
Improving attribute conversion efficiency, increasing output through magic
interaction, even reinforcing the formula itself—their types are as numerous as
the stars. Among them, the formula Tom made for Tima was custom-made for her,
who has an aptitude for all four elements. Its foundation is a circular
arrangement of magic control formulas suited for each attribute, completed by
engraving a special formula. Furthermore, to handle Tima's enormous attribute
magic, its strength is guaranteed. The formula Lisa had Tom engrave was the one
responsible for the fire attribute within that four-element control system.
"And... I just
kinda wanted to try using it..."
(Ah, there's the real reason...) Watching Lisa scratch her cheek and
avert her gaze, Nozomu was reminded of their childhood. His curious childhood
friend, even after settling into the village, often got into trouble, calling
it an "adventure." If he had to name the number one troublemaker in
his hometown, it was, without a doubt, Lisa. In short, Lisa had meddled with
Tima's exclusive formula because she was egged on by her curiosity, and she
couldn't back down because her "adventurous spirit" had run wild. In
fact, Lisa didn't give up due to a lack of magic power. Instead, reasoning that
if she didn't have enough, she'd just supplement it, she brought out magic
stone powder. Furthermore, she used Nivea’s
Demonic Hand repeatedly. As a result, her sword couldn't withstand the
amplified magic power and the continuously doubling force, and apparently... it
just exploded spectacularly.
"...You're an
idiot."
"Hey, not you
too, Nozomu! That's mean!"
Lisa protested at the
words that slipped out of his mouth, but Nozomu had no intention of defending
her in this matter. In the first place, Tom's hybrid formula requires not only
Tima-level magic power but also the outstanding control of a beastified Feo to
even function. Even then, the backlash from activating the formula is
tremendous, damaging the medium beyond repair. Naturally, it was not a formula
Lisa could control by herself. What's worse is that Lisa's current temperament
wasn't one to give up after a single failure; she had continued this reckless
experiment, viewing it as a good trial to push her limits.
"Don't tell me
you used it during the Opening Festival..."
"O-Of course I
wouldn't use a sword with a formula like that! Besides, I was only using my
spare sword for these experiments..."
Listening to Lisa's
hesitant excuse, Nozomu looked down at the shattered sword again. It was
completely dead as a sword, a pitiful sight, but as he wiped away the soot, a
brilliant luster peeked out from the edge of the cracked and melted blade. It
must have been a spare, but its quality was no less than her favorite sword.
(That guy Tom... he
probably just slapped this formula on her sword because he thought he'd get
good data...)
To sum it all up, this
tragedy was the result of Lisa's passion for adventure and Tom's passion for
research spinning out of control.
"Sigh, good grief..."
Nozomu let out an
exasperated voice at his friend, who, following Feo, had recently become a
source of trouble.
"Lisa, that's
just too reckless."
"Well, I realize
now I might have overdone it... But I really don't want to hear about 'reckless
training' from you, Nozomu!"
"Quiet!"
"Gyah!"
Wandor's fist attacked
Lisa again. Sporting a second lump on her head, Lisa was forced to collapse
onto the workshop floor. While sighing at the sight, Nozomu also felt a strange
nostalgia. In their childhood, after Lisa dragged Nozomu and the others around
on her "adventures," she was often scolded by her mother. Perhaps
because her mother was also a former adventurer, she often used her hands when
scolding. At the same time, the sight of Lisa, overlapping with those past scenes,
showed that the girl he had been drawn to had truly gotten back on her feet.
Seeing the adventurous spirit of the girl he once fell for, Nozomu let out a
sigh of relief in his heart.
"Good grief...
So, boy. What are you here for?"
"I was wondering if
I could borrow your forge..."
Wandor let out an
exasperated voice at Lisa's antics and prompted Nozomu to state his business. After
hearing Nozomu's business, Wandor clapped his hands as if he had just
remembered something, and then slowly turned his gaze to the katana Nozomu was
wearing.
"Ah, I heard
about it from Anri-lass. I heard... but I have a condition."
"A
condition?"
"Yeah. Show me
the katana at your waist. 'Mumei'.
That's the condition."
At the unexpected
condition, Nozomu instinctively put a hand on the katana at his hip. Mumei. His
master Shino's cherished katana, a former demonic blade renowned in the East.
He had been surprised to hear about his beloved katana's unexpected origin, but
since Shino had already tamed it, for Nozomu, it was just an extremely
excellent and cherished blade. That said, the fact that it didn't break even
when he poured Tiamat's power into it left no doubt that it was an
extraordinary katana. It was no wonder that a dwarf, a member of the race said
to be loved by metal, would be interested.
"I don't
mind..."
Nozomu unfastened the katana
from his belt and handed it to Wandor. Wandor pulled the blade from its
scabbard, examined the blade from every angle, and snorted.
"I don't like
this blade. I'm a stubborn bastard, but the guy who made this is even more
twisted than me. He didn't give a single thought to the user. He just made it
and then said, 'I'm done, do what you
want.' He completely abandoned both the user and the sword itself."
"..."
Nozomu fell silent at
the scathing review of his beloved katana. He had heard it had a storied past,
but this was just being ripped to shreds in a different way. Then again, the
one being insulted was the creator, not the katana itself or its wielder, so
Nozomu didn't know what to say. As Nozomu stood there with a conflicted
expression, Wandor snapped the blade back into its sheath.
"...Ah, well. A
promise is a promise. So, why'd you say you wanted to borrow a forge?"
"I want to make a
gift for a benefactor... The person who saved my life said she wanted a bell
that I made. So, I was hoping to borrow a forge to make one..."
Nozomu took back his
katana as it was thrust at him, returned it to his belt, and showed Wandor the
materials he'd prepared. It was a fist-sized piece of brass. As a poor student,
Nozomu couldn't afford precious metals; this was all he could manage. Wandor
glanced at the brass and snorted.
"How many bells
are you making?"
"Um, including
spares, if I could make about a dozen..."
Hearing only that,
Wandor walked over to a shelf fixed to the workshop wall. He opened one of the
shelves that occupied an entire wall, pulled out a lump of silver-shining
metal, and tossed it to Nozomu. Nozomu, who caught the tossed metal, looked at
the lump that fit in his palm, his face twitching.
"I'll lend it to
you as long as I'm watching. And that scrap-stone isn't very good material.
I'll give you this too, so hurry up and make it."
"W-Wait,
Wandor-san, this is Mithril Silver..."
Lisa, peeking from
beside Nozomu, also had a strained look on her face as she pointed at the metal
in Nozomu's palm. Mithril Silver. An extremely expensive magic metal, an
excellent material for weapons and armor, and at the same time, a material that
appears in legends across the continent as a metal that repels evil / demons
due to its lustrous silver color. Wearing armor made of this material is a
status symbol, favored by skilled knights, nobles, and Mages. It's also
characterized by the very clear sound it makes when struck, and in extremely
rare cases, it has been used for percussion instruments. But its mining
quantity is originally scarce; at any rate, it's not a metal one uses to make a
simple bell.
"Hey! Get to it
already!"
"Y-Yes!"
Ignoring the stunned
pair, Wandor's roar urged Nozomu on, forcing him to shove the Mithril Silver
material into the forge. As he raised the forge's temperature, the molten
Mithril Silver, glowing like powdered snow, began to flow from the tap-hole. He
spread the flowed-out Mithril Silver to make a thin steel plate, then punched
out circular shapes to make a pair of discs. Next, he heated the discs to
create hemispheres, attached a ring to one using molten Mithril, and cut a slit
in the other to produce sound. Once the hemisphere molds were complete, he put
in a Mithril Silver ball, then welded the hemispheres together to form the
rough shape of the bell. Finally, he filed off the excess parts to complete it.
In this way, Nozomu made a total of twelve bells from the Mithril Silver.
Wandor picked one of the finished bells and rang it. Chime, chime... a clear, cool tone echoed.
"Hmph. It's taken
shape, but there's a slight dissonance. As a product, even if I grade
generously, it's lower-middle at best."
"Ahahaha..."
Nozomu's face twitched
at the harsh comment. For Nozomu, this was the best work he'd ever done, but
for the dwarf, it was apparently laugh-off-level work. Then again, this was a
master smith who had dedicated his life to this path. It was only natural that
he would give a low evaluation to a bell made by a novice craftsman like
Nozomu. If anything, managing to get the word "middle" out of him was
more than enough for Nozomu. As Nozomu was about to wrap the finished bells in
cloth, Lisa peeked over his shoulder at the Mithril bells.
"Hey, Nozomu. Is
that bell for Irisdina-san?"
"Uh,
yeah..."
"...Why?"
"She... asked for
it?"
"Hmph..."
Hearing the low,
un-inflected tone in her voice right by his ear, Nozomu had a bad feeling. She
was grumpy. Pouting. Sulking. At the same time, a shiver ran down his spine,
and his heart began to pound. In Lisa's glaring eyes, Nozomu remembered the
face of his dead master.
"Hey Nozomu, are
you free after this?"
"Huh? Uh, no, I
have an errand..."
Okay, run. Nozomu
decided to retreat in 0.1 seconds. He wrapped the freshly made bells in cloth
and hastily tried to leave. But just as he tried to turn, Lisa's hand clamped
down on his shoulder from behind. Simultaneously, force was put into Lisa's
hand, and a creak- creak sound began to echo
from Nozomu's shoulder. A dull pain shot through his shoulder, and Nozomu
froze.
"Great! So you
are free! Perfect. Then, you're coming with me. Wandor-san, I'll be back! Have
a new sword ready for me by then!"
"Wait, Lisa. I
told you, I have an errand... Hey, wait, waaaaaait!"
"Hey, you brat!
Pay your bill first!"
Wandor roared, raising
his arm, but Lisa didn't hear him at all. She started running out of the
workshop like the wind, dragging the frozen Nozomu with her. Left with his
raised arm hanging, Wandor stared at the spot where the problem child had
vanished, then slumped into a nearby chair.
"Gosh, that
little brat..."
He picked up a nearby
pipe and began to smoke it. As Wandor puffed on the pipe, a sweet scent filled
the workshop, and the white smoke swirled, rising to the ceiling in rings
before vanishing. Watching him, Anri, who had remained, smiled, looking
pleased.
"Fufu,
Wandor-san, you seem to have taken quite a liking to Lisa-san~"
"It's not like
that. As far as I knew, that girl was pretty gloomy, but she's changed a lot
recently, so I'm just a little surprised. Besides, you're the one who seems
pretty invested in that boy, aren't you?"
The Lisa that Wandor
knew was the one from when she was cornered by her conflict with Nozomu. Her sword
skill was certainly outstanding among the youngsters, so Wandor had no
objections to swinging his hammer for her, but she wasn't a customer he
particularly wanted to get involved with. But recently, she was full of
adventurous spirit, found joy in challenging things, and was changing into a
personality type that Wandor quite liked. He was exasperated by the sharp
increase in her weapon-breaking frequency, but this change in her personality
was preferable to him. Wandor also sensed that this bright,
adventurous-spirited form was the real Lisa, and that she had been able to find
herself again thanks to the one boy who had stayed by her side.
"Yes, Nozomu-kun
is a good boy~. If possible, I'd love to work with him in the same workplace,
as a fellow teacher~~"
"Jeez, you really
are invested. Well, having seen that katana, I don't doubt the boy's
skill..."
A smith of Wandor's
caliber could accurately gauge a wielder's skill just by looking at their
weapon. And, as a first-class smith, the skill of that boy he saw was more
outstanding than any swordsman Wandor knew. The scars left on the blade, the
traces of pressure applied. Those claw marks, invisible to the naked eye, spoke
eloquently of just how high the wielder's skill had reached.
"So,
Wandor-san... what did you 'see' regarding Nozomu-kun~"
But what surprised
Wandor most wasn't Nozomu's skill. It was the momentary vision brought about by
this dwarf's own "Ability."
"..."
Anri's gaze urged him
to speak of the vision he'd glimpsed. Wandor took another puff of his pipe,
recalling the time he "peeked into the depths of Mumei," and slowly
opened his mouth.
"You know, my
Ability isn't some grand thing that sees through everything. It just lets me
peek at a part of the past or future, like a reflection, through the connection
a mineral has with its wielder or creator. So, I can't say anything definitive.
It's all fragmented."
His Ability as a
master smith. It was a special power called "Whisper of the Rocks." It's a kind of divine ability, one that
allows him to see the past, future, and other things through minerals. In some
lands, it's one of the abilities called "Spirit-Possessed," and in
ancient times, people with such power often served as priests during important
rituals. The reason Anri brought Nozomu to this shop today was partly to
fulfill his wish to make a bell, but her main purpose was to have Wandor, with
his "Whisper of the Rocks,"
look into Nozomu's future. Anri wanted to have his future divined to get a
signpost for what she could do for him. Of course, Wandor himself was
interested in Nozomu. He had been in Arcazam for a long time. He had heard the
rumors about the student who had rampaged against the hero of the Great
Invasion in the Martial Arts Garden. As a smith, he couldn't help but be
interested when he heard that this person's weapon was a katana made by a
legendary Eastern smith.
"But, I can say
this much. He is on a different level. The creator of the weapon, the katana
itself, and its wielder. It was all so intense, I honestly don't even want to
talk about it..."
Wandor had looked at
Nozomu's katana out of curiosity, but the feeling that welled up in him was
regret. Wandor had touched all sorts of minerals and weapons, from all times
and places, but Nozomu and his Mumei
were so alien that he himself couldn't put it into words. His one-word summary
of what he felt when he saw Nozomu's katana was "being bound in chains and sinking to the bottom of the sea."
It was an overly deep and dark blackness, a painful suffocation, a terror that
felt like his heart was constantly being crushed in a vise. Honestly, Wandor
was amazed he'd been able to suppress the twitching of his own facial muscles.
But, in that darkness, which held only pain, there was one vision that faintly
floated into view.
"I saw only one
thing. A giant, blood-spattered mansion, and a woman with silver hair. And in
front of her, that boy, lying there covered in blood."
"Silver-haired
woman?"
"I couldn't see
her face clearly. But she was a young woman."
After saying only
that, Wandor returned to his forge and began to swing his hammer once more.
There was terror and regret. But to be charmed by the madness contained within
an ultimate blade was also the fate of a smith. A katana that resonated with
the wielder's aptitude and feelings, changing like a kaleidoscope. Just what
kind of technique could give birth to such a blade? Even as he felt a fear that
made him shudder, the kaleidoscopic blade shone with an iridescent light, stirring
Wandor's curiosity and his desire to forge. He wanted to strike iron. Clank, clank! As if to show the dwarf
smith's desire, the high-pitched sound began to ring out in the workshop again.
For a short while, Anri stood with her hand to her mouth, lost in thought. But
she eventually left the workshop and hurried back to the academy. Wandor
glanced at the shop entrance Anri had left through, then turned back to the
forge's fire. That day, the fire of the forge and the sound of hammering metal
did not stop, even as the night grew late, and continued to echo through a
corner of the Craftsman's District.
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