I never expected to get information about the Crozzo family here.
"If you don't mind, could you tell me why? I want to know as much about Mr. Welf as I
can…"
"…Very well. I would like to caution you that this is most likely not the information
you're seeking."
She jumps into her story after giving me that short disclaimer.
"I believe you have heard about their magic swords, but are you familiar with where
those blacksmiths resided?"
"No, I'm not."
"A kingdom called Rakia. Of all the countries in the world, that kingdom is relatively
close to Orario."
Rakia… I think I heard that name a few times in my hometown before coming to
Orario.
Things like "That country's starting a war again," or "They're sending expeditions all
over the place," and others.
"The country itself is governed by one god who declared himself king using his
Familia. The Crozzo family offered their services in exchange for nobility. Those
services were, of course, producing a large supply of magic swords."
Everything she said so far matches up with Lilly's telling very well. I nod and Lyu
continues.
"Perhaps due to the fact that its ruler considered himself a god of war, Rakia was an
extremely aggressive nation. That is still accurate to this day. Whenever a neighboring
country or city shows weakness, Rakia moves to invade."
So the rumors are true…
"Within that country's long history of repetitive wars, the full power of Crozzo's Magic
Swords was unleashed many times."
She's about to get to the point, I can feel it. I'm on the edge of my seat, or at least I
would be if I were sitting down.
"An army of common soldiers armed with magic swords—can you picture that, Mr.
Cranell?"
"…Don't tell me they…"
"You are correct. At that time, Rakia had a mobile inferno under its command. They
didn't bother with strategy or planning. They just annihilated everything in their wake
with overwhelming firepower."
Victory after victory, undefeated and invincible, a god of war who couldn't lose.
She says that no one knew how to stop Rakia when it was blessed with magic swords.
"Rakia was too aggressive. Their wars changed the very face of our world. Thus,
prairies and cities alike were burned to ash, leaving nothing behind… And then their
flames reached a forest inhabited by elves."
It's said that humans and demi-humans and elves didn't interact very much before the
gods descended to this world. There are some very close-minded people around now
who still don't.
The best examples are the elves. I've heard there is a group of them who are so proud
that they absolutely hate interacting with other races. They've shut themselves off
from the rest of the world in a forest somewhere.
So basically, that means…
"They were chased out of their home, those elves? The forest they lived in was
destroyed by a war?"
"They were smoked out, to be more precise. Their homeland went up in flames."
Their forest burned to the ground.
I gulp down a mouthful of air once the meaning of those words hits home.
Lyu finishes her story by saying that the surviving elves sought help from other gods.
They joined Familias in the surrounding nations, received blessings, and took revenge
on Rakia.
Unfortunately for the kingdom, they no longer had magic swords in their arsenal. Lyu
said that those elves got their retribution relatively easily.
"Rakia's soldiers spread devastation as if it was a game. For those on the receiving end
of magic swords, hating the Crozzo family might be a case of misplaced anger…
However, there are still many elves who haven't gotten over the past."
"…"
"So that is why the name Crozzo is impossible for elves to ignore."
"…What about you, Lyu?"
"No, I harbor no ill will."
Her quick denial surprises me.
I've heard that elves consider their entire race to be a family, filled with pride in
themselves and one another.
Lyu says that's an exaggeration, and that her own homeland was not directly affected…
I'm absolutely stunned.
Of course, Syr—and the others as well—cares for me, but to think Lyu hasn't known
me very long at all, yet shares something like this and worries about me so much…
She's very important to me.
"Be-ll! Sorry to keep you waiting!"
"…It's time. Mr. Cranell, please be careful in the Dungeon today."
"Ah, yes…"
Lyu gives me a slight bow as Syr comes through the door.
She goes back inside the bar without another word. I watch in silence as the door
closes behind her.
"I'm a little late…"
I'm speed-walking my way through West Main. Morning bells ring out from the east
as I make my way through an ever-growing crowd of people. Lilly and Mr. Welf are
waiting for me at the base of Babel Tower. I have to get there as soon as possible.
My feet are moving, but my thoughts are somewhere else entirely. I'm so wrapped up
in what I just heard from Lyu that I don't even notice a person walking right up to me.
"Oh, this really is your route."
"Ah," I say as everything comes into focus. It's Mr. Welf, and he's waving at me.
Isn't this strange? I told him we were meeting at the same place as yesterday… Did he
want to meet me halfway?
"Hey, Bell. Mornin'."
"Good morning. Umm… Mr. Welf, what are you doing out here?"
"Got a message for you from Li'l E. She can't join us for dungeon crawling today."
"Eh?"
He explains that he was waiting at the base of Babel when a very animated Lilly rushed
up to him. She said that on top of being busier than usual recently, the gnome she
works for collapsed. She's the only one around who can take care of him. Apparently
she bowed enough times to make Mr. Welf dizzy watching her.
Hearing that I always arrive from West Main, he decided to come out and meet me.
"So, what do we do? Hit the Dungeon as a two-man cell?"
"W-well, ummm…"
We won't be able to collect as many magic stones and drop items without Lilly with
us. But if we don't go into the Dungeon, I won't have anything to do all day… I'd like to
avoid that.
Should I go grab my old backpack and gather stones and drop items, like I did back in
my solo days?
"…Bell. If you've got nothing else going on, can I have some of your time today?"
"What?"
I tilt my head to the side at his suggestion.
The corner of his mouth rises in a grin; his hands wave from side to side.
"I made you a promise, didn't I? A full set of new equipment."
"Y-you know, Mr. Welf, I'm fine with just the light armor…"
"No need for modesty. A smith never goes back on his word."
Mr. Welf is heading somewhere at a brisk pace and I'm doing my best to keep up.
I know I already agreed to it, but the thought of receiving brand-new equipment for
free makes me feel like I'm taking advantage of him… I feel kind of guilty.
I try a few more times to decline the offer, but he just waves me off, saying, "Leave it
to me." I watch his black coat swish back and forth as we make our way up the street.
"Bell, I don't pretend to know everything, but you should go after the best stuff you
can get. Adventurers never know if there's a tomorrow. Because you don't know
what's coming, you should always have the best weapons and armor on you at all
times—right?"
"Yeah…"
He makes a very good point. I can't help but agree.
Everything is pointless if you die. I don't know how many times Eina has said that.
And I promised the goddess that I wouldn't leave her alone. All things in moderation,
but… the most important thing is not to make the big mistake, I guess.
I think about it for a while, but in the end I decide to take Mr. Welf's offer.
The moment I say, "I'm looking forward to your work," Mr. Welf grins from ear to ear
and says, "Coming right up."
"Mr. Welf. Can I ask you where we're going?"
"My workshop."
Workshop? He must've looked over his shoulder and seen the confusion on my face,
because Mr. Welf starts to explain.
A workshop is where a smith creates armor and weapons.He says everything he needs
to create my new equipment is already there: a forge, various metals and tools, etc.
Apparently his Familia assigned him his own workshop… and that's something special
about being a member of Hephaistos Familia.
"You mean everyone having their own workshop isn't normal?"
"Doubt it. It'd be much cheaper to have everyone use the same space; be more
efficient, too."
"Then, why?"
"So that other smiths don't see your techniques. My way is only my way, yeah?"
Must be an artisan thing… Or maybe it's his pride as a smith?
Members of his Familia are also his competition. That's got to be one stressful working
environment.
"Don't be thinking I'm doing something shady, now. Lady Hephaistos wanted it this
way."
Laughing at his own joke, Mr. Welf starts to pick up speed.
We're moving along Northeast Main Street right now.
Large and small shops on both sides of the street have awnings over their entrances.
Shops selling tools and other items are all over the place, with not a bar to be seen.
The people around here are wearing all kinds of different worker's gear as they get
ready to start the day. Only a few of them have Familia symbols on their clothes, so I
guess most of them are free workers. I can see large, boxy buildings all over the place…
I bet they're factories.
If I remember right, all of the magic-stone products that Orario is known for are made
along Northeast Main.
The Industrial District, that's what it's called.
"We're turning up there."
I'm distracted for a moment by a dwarf lumbering along the side of the street while
carrying a massive tree trunk over his shoulder, but I follow Mr. Welf.
Our path suddenly narrows as we turn off the main street. It's still morning, but the
sun's rays have yet to reach this stone-paved side street. It's quite cool back here. The
brilliant blue stripe of sky above us is absolutely magnificent.
All the buildings around here are made of stone as well. Just when I think we're going
to go all the way to the city wall, Mr. Welf comes to a stop.
"Whoa…"
After winding our way through so many back streets, here it is.
A compact, one-story building stands in front of us.
Burn marks and soot cover the stone walls, but this is the real thing! The aura of an
actual forge oozes out of every inch of this place. A smokestack juts out of one corner
of the roof. The whole building is rather charming.
"You might already know, but this is the area most workers call home. Can't walk two
steps without seeing another workshop or factory. My Familia's home is just around
the corner."
Of course, this is all news to me. "Oh, I see," I say, my head on a swivel as I take in all
the sights.
Mr. Welf's workshop is quite a ways away from Main Street. This area reminds me a
lot of my home, being a bit dark and out-of-the-way.
Echoes of metal on metal ring out from every direction… I can feel the presence of
other smiths already hard at work, as well as hear them.
Above all, it sounds like Hephaistos Familia prepares a workshop for each of its
members in this area.
Each member is in charge of taking care of their own area… but still, it's really
generous.
"What're you standin' around for? Come on in."
"Ah, sure."
I say a quiet thank-you as I follow Mr. Welf into his workshop.
The first thing I notice is the strong smell of iron. Mr. Welf opens the shutters, bathing
the dark room in the crisp morning light.
A wide array of tools hanging on the wall starts glistening. Hammers, tongs, random
utensils… A lot of them. I've never seen anything like any of these before.
A large fireplace is nestled in the corner, behind a medium-height bench. Isn't that
thing called an anvil?
There are no dividing walls in here, just one big space devoted to forging armor and
weapons.
Now this is a smith's workshop.
"Sorry, bit of a pigsty in here. Can you put up with it for a bit?"
"Don't worry about me, I'm fine!"
Actually, I want to see him in action… Starting to get excited, I take another look
around the room.
Mr. Welf pulls up a chair for me and motions for me to sit down.
"For starters, I'm going to need your measurements. I can handle everything else on
my own after that."
"You need my measurements?"
"Yeah, I'll be customizing the armor for you. Would be a shame if it didn't fit just right,
now wouldn't it?"
The armor sold in shops has to accommodate a wide range of body shapes and sizes,
so there are always spots that aren't snug or that stick out a little bit. Adventurers can
make little adjustments themselves, but the ideal is to have armor and weapons made
to fit perfectly.
"I'm thinking 'bout making some greave-style shin guards. Any requests, Bell?"
"Hmm, ummm…?"
"If there's a piece of equipment you'd like me to make, just say the word. Like maybe
you feel naked without a shield, things like that… So yeah, if there's an item you want,
speak up. I'll make anything for you."
Mr. Welf has his back to me, collecting various tools from the wall.
Clink, clank. I hear him set tools on his workbench while I'm sitting in my chair, racking
my brain.
I suppose my preferences would be short blades and light armor? I don't want to be
pushy, but I can't think of anything else I'd want, no matter how hard I try.
Well… it wasn't a shield, but having a protector was nice. Maybe I should ask for
another one?
Wow, that's a huge blade…
I catch a glint of light out of the corner of my eye. I look over there and see a series of
shelves in the opposite corner of the room.
Several weapons are lined up on them. Probably some of Mr. Welf's past work.
In the middle of all of them, I spot a broadsword that reminds me of the cleaver I used
in my fight against the Minotaur.
"…Mr. Welf, would it be asking too much to try this out?"
He suddenly appears next to me as if he'd been yanked over by a rope. His eyes follow
mine to the massive sword on the shelf.
It's not here as decoration, but its silver blade and proportionate balance as a weapon
are absolutely stunning nevertheless.
I could say this about the armor I wear into the Dungeon, but it was very clearly made
by Mr. Welf.
"It's not 'too much,' no… The shop sent that one back to me 'cause it wouldn't sell."
"But I-I'd like to use it."
I ask him if I can take a few practice swings. The confusion in his eyes is as plain as
day, but he gives me permission to try.
Shung. I grab the hilt and lift it off the shelf. I swing the blade from the floor up to the
ceiling, carving a silver arc in the air. I can't help but smile.
I try a few side swings next. It's so much heavier than my knife, and it won't move the
way I want it to.
"…"
"…? Is something wrong?"
After swinging the blade a few times, I notice that Mr. Welf is frozen in place.
When he finally responds, Mr. Welf's lips hardly move as he speaks.
"You really… weren't after a magic sword."
Wha? I tilt my head again, wondering if I heard that right. "Huh?"
"How was I supposed to know you'd be more interested in a shop reject than a magic
sword after coming all the way here?"
He looks happier and happier with each passing second. "Ummm," is all I can say.
That's right! Crozzo's magic swords… I was so excited about seeing the workshop and
all these weapons that I completely forgot. Everything comes flooding back in.
I don't know how to respond to that, but Mr. Welf suddenly has a mean smile on his
face.
"So, what did she tell you? Your goddess… What did Lady Hestia tell you about me?"
"?!"
"One of the guys working in Babel told me. A young-looking goddess was asking
around about me."
The blood drains from my head as Mr. Welf calmly explains the situation.
He knows that I've been talking about him behind his back?!
"I-I'm so sorry! My goddess didn't mean anything bad by it, she's just… well, worried
about me… It's all my fault!"
"I couldn't care less. Someone from another Familia has started working with one of
her own. She's gotta stay on top of things."
"That's a good thing, isn't it?"
Mr. Welf responds with a lighthearted smile. It looks like he really doesn't care.
I breathe a deep sigh of relief.
"I was worried you'd look at me differently… once you found out. Sorry to test you like
that, but I had to know."
He genuinely looks sorry with that grimace on his face.
…So that means he was trying to see if I would ask for a magic sword, if given a chance.
If I would use a descendant of the magic swordsmiths to get one for myself.
Having a famous family name like Crozzo must've made him really sensitive to those
words.
Huh. So that's what he was getting at earlier.
"Got a bit sidetracked, but I'll ask you again. Other than a big sword, is there anything
you want?"
"Ah, yes… umm."
I never did figure that out, so let's see. Maybe I should ask for a shortsword? Wait a
minute, maybe something on Mr. Welf's shelf will give me an idea.
I turn my back to him and take another look.
"…Hey, Bell. I've been wondering this for a while, but is that a drop item strapped to
your back?"
"Eh? Oh."
I look over my shoulder and see that Mr. Welf is pointing at my lower back, where the
Divine Knife, my dagger, and the Minotaur Horn are.
"This is… Yes. It's a Minotaur drop item… but for some reason I just can't let it go."
A scorched horn with bits and pieces of red showing through. I don't really consider it
to be a good-luck charm, but I can't shake the feeling that selling it off is wrong
somehow.
…I can't turn my back on everything that I went through with that Minotaur.
At the very least, I should leave it as it is.
Although it is kind of useless, carrying it around like this…
"…How about making something out of that?"
"Eh?"
"Using that horn to make a piece of equipment. I could make one hell of a weapon from
the Minotaur Horn."
My eyes go wide.
Of course! The direct contract—I bring him drop items from the Dungeon, and he'll
make weapons for me!
Mr. Welf's suggestion is like an angel's song to my ears. This way I can always keep it
with me, and the drop item won't go to waste. I nod my head as fast as I can.
"Yes, please!"
"That settles it, then."
I hand the Minotaur Horn to Mr. Welf.
He holds it in his hands for a moment, looking over every inch of the item.
"…Were Minotaur Horns always red?"
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind, not important… It's in pretty good shape, and quite a bit denser than
usual. Little bit of shaping, some elbow grease, and it should become one fine blade…"
Mr. Welf is getting more and more excited as he looks at the Minotaur Horn.
Talking under his breath and scrunching up his brow, he takes his eyes off the horn for
a moment and looks up at me.
"Bell. Can you let me do my own thing? I want to take my time making this."
"S-sure. I'm not a smith, so I wouldn't be able to tell you what to do, anyway…"
"Thanks, that helps. Since we're only using this horn, your options for a new weapon
are kind of limited…"
One shortsword or two daggers.
That's the Minotaur Horn "menu" that Mr. Welf presents for me.
He says that trying to stretch it out into a shortsword would make the blade very thin,
so he recommends the latter option.
The Divine Knife is one thing, but my dagger was provided by the Guild… It might be
time for an upgrade. I don't think that a weapon of the lowest rank would be much use
against the monsters I'll face in the middle levels.
This might be a good opportunity for an upgrade. I've used my dagger for about two
months already, so I decide to hang it up for good.
I ask Mr. Welf to make the daggers.
"All right, that's what I'm talking about. I'll just make one for now and use the leftovers
to make another once I learn Forge. Wait and see what I come up with then!"
"Ah-ha-ha-ha…"
Mr. Welf has a very excited glint in his eyes, and I can't help but chuckle at his
enthusiasm.
He doesn't waste any time in getting my measurements after that. Grabbing measuring
tapes and different tools from a metal bucket, Mr. Welf works his way around me,
measuring as he goes.
He asks me to take off my boots and spends a great deal of time recording the shape
of my feet.
"You can head home once I'm finished here."
"Um, Mr. Welf, about that…"
"Yeah?"
"Would it be okay with you if I watched…?" I manage to ask as he looks over the palm
of my hand, specifically where the hilt of the blade would sit.
I really want to see what a smith does and how weapons are forged. Coming all the
way out here has piqued my curiosity. Mr. Welf works his way up my shoulder as I'm
trying to picture what's about to happen in this place.
Mr. Welf doesn't know how to respond to my honesty. "You're a strange one," he says
while tilting his head to the side. But he agrees to let me stay.
I promise over and over not to get in his way. I don't know if it's because I'm getting
excited, but my cheeks are suddenly very hot.
"It gets pretty damn hot in here; it'd be a good idea to take off your armor."
"Eh, ah, yes."
Not really understanding what he meant, I follow his directions.
Down to my undershirt, I set all of my armor in the corner and turn to face Mr. Welf.
He's in the opposite corner, next to the forge… lighting a fire.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"Heating up the drop item."
"You're going to burn the monster's horn?!"
I yell out in surprise despite promising I wouldn't interfere just a moment ago.
Animal horns are just like bone, aren't they? Well, I'm not sure, but… they'll turn to ash
in a fire…?
"There's something like metal inside a monster's horns and claws."
"Metal…?"
"Yeah. Ever heard of adamantite?"
Adamantite… I feel like I've heard of it before, but I can't place it.
All I can think of is that it's an extremely rare metal…
"Adamantite can only be found in the Dungeon. When it comes to making weapons, it's
the best stuff out there. Very sturdy."
"People find it in the Dungeon?"
"Yep. Sometimes pieces of it just fall out of the dungeon walls, like the monsters. But
that's once in a blue moon. Every so often I hear of someone finding it in the upper
levels, but most adventurers bring it up from much deeper in the lower levels."
It can only be collected in the Dungeon… That means that it can only be found in
Orario.
Apparently, adamantite weapons are a specialty of Orario's. Since it's a very difficult
material to acquire, its value puts magic stones to shame.
"…So then, it's possible that monsters born in the Dungeon have adamantite inside
them…?"
"Hit the nail right on the head. Exactly. On the other hand, it's not as pure as the stuff
that comes out of the dungeon walls. It's a bit weaker."
In that case, it might not be strange that monsters born in the Dungeon are affected
by this material.
Mr. Welf tells me that only a few of them have adamantite in their fangs and claws, but
they're perfect for making weapons.
…This horn. This horn broke that thick cleaver during our battle.
"Minotaur Horns also have a metallic element to them. Heat them up just right, and
you can shape them at will."
Okay, now I get it. He's going to make the Minotaur Horn hot enough to forge, just like
a piece of metal… This is just the first step.
An image of the red-hot horn pops into my mind. It kind of looks like a piece of candy.
From there, Mr. Welf is going to take all kinds of tools to it, just as if he were working
with metal.
"Sorry to bug you, Bell. Could you open the door and the shutters up all the way?"
"N-no problem."
Mr. Welf wraps a hand towel around his head at the same time he speaks to me.
I go around the room, opening every window and door.
I turn back around to find Mr. Welf poking and prodding at the fire he just started.
There is a rock at the base of the forge, a drop item from a monster known as an
Inferno Stone… The flames it can produce are so intense that average people can't buy
one.
"Just like adamantite, this horn ain't gonna bend unless I heat it just right."
Mr. Welf keeps his eyes glued to the forge while talking.
In no time at all, a roaring flame erupts from the stone and intense heat swells within
the forge. The heat wave reaches me a moment later. I'm a good distance away from it,
but I've already broken a sweat. I can't imagine what it would be like if I still had my
armor on.
Mr. Welf is completely focused on adjusting the temperature within the forge. I sit back
down in my chair and watch from behind.
It's still only midmorning. I don't even think an hour has passed since I got my lunch
from Syr. I bet Babel Tower is swamped with adventurers making their way into the
Dungeon by now.
Yet here I am in a dim room, surrounded by gloomy back streets with only this forge
for light.
Looking at the massive furnace, its red mouth wide open, everything feels mysterious.
I can only see part of Mr. Welf's face, but his intensity matches the flames that dance
in front of him.
"You look like you've got something on your mind."
"Huh?!"
"Come on, ask away. We have a direct contract. I don't want to have any secrets."
A few moments pass in silence. His preparations complete, Mr. Welf withdraws his
face from the forge and looks at me.
I freeze on the spot, stunned by his sudden request… How did he know?
It's not that I have a specific question to ask him, but there's something that's been on
my mind for a while. Every time I hear about Mr. Welf, my curiosity grows and grows
to the point that if I'm not careful, the words will spill right out of my mouth. I guess
he must've caught on.
He has a gentle aura about him. A light smile on his lips. I can see a look of trust in his
eyes… At least I think so.
I swallow all the spit in my mouth and take that first step to finding the answers from
Mr. Welf himself.
"Why don't you… Why don't you make magic swords, Mr. Welf?"
I can still remember how happy he was when I became his client.
If he would just make magic swords, he would have more clients and money than he
would know what to do with.
He already has a famous name that would draw in people from all over. That's the
power of the Crozzo family.
I have to know the reason why he doesn't even try.
"Well, there are a few reasons, but…"
His mouth curling into a grimace, he casts his gaze back into the flames.
"I hate magic swords."
Then he starts to explain the reason why he despises them so much.
"Truth is, I told you my work doesn't sell, but I've had a ton of clients… Nah, still do."
"Eh...?"
"It's so simple that it makes me sick. All these people see my armor and weapons in
the shop, but once they see my signature, 'Crozzo'…they come knockin' at my door,
beggin' me to make a magic sword for them."
Mr. Welf pumps more air into the forge, using a tool at his feet.
"They completely ignore my work, it's all just magic sword, magic sword, magic
sword… That's all everyone other than you ever said. I know and realize I don't have
much experience, but… You know? It hurts."
The slightest of wrinkles appears below his mouth, the only dark shadow on a face
blanketed in an orange and red glow.
A magic sword that is said to be strong enough to burn away the sea, probably the
strongest ever. Everyone was after the magic swords of the Crozzo name, not Mr.
Welf's armor or weapons.
None of the customers who came to him looked him in the eye… Could they only see
the value of the Crozzo bloodline?
All they saw were the magic swords.
"Um, Mr. Welf… How did, um, you know…"
"Yeah, things went downhill fast. Lots of yelling. 'Get lost, you bastards!' and 'Who
would listen to the likes of you?!' I chased them all away."
"Ha-ha-ha-ha…"
I'm lost for words; all I can give him is an empty laugh. However, I get it. I understand.
He's angry at the people who wouldn't give his armor and weapons any attention.
Well, part of it could be that he's angry at the Crozzo blood flowing within him.
I hear what he's saying and I get it… But.
"Um… Is that the only reason?"
I feel like there's something more.
He said he hates magic swords, but there has to be a deeper meaning.
"…"
An answer doesn't come right away.
Taking his eyes off the forge, Mr. Welf walks over to his workbench and looks down at
the Minotaur Horn. Picking up a chisel and hammer, he sets to work on breaking the
horn in two.
After about fifty shrill impacts, the Minotaur Horn finally splits right down the middle.
Setting the relatively larger half off to the side, he carries the smaller half back to the
forge and sits down.
"Do you know why the Crozzo family can make magic swords in the first place, Bell?"
He pinches a piece of the horn with a special tool and thrusts it deep into the heart of
the flames.
"I don't…" I respond as I watch him move onto the next step in the weapon-making
process.
"There was once an ordinary man named Crozzo. It was his descendants who made
his name what it is now. We call him The Ancestor. All this happened before the gods
came down here."
We call the time before the gods came to this world "the Old Age." That era ended about
a thousand years ago.
The Crozzo family history can be traced back that far?! Wow…
"The story goes that The Ancestor was a smith down on his luck. Nothing would sell.
And of course, he couldn't make magic swords. However, it's beyond a shadow of a
doubt that he's the one who started it all."
A breath.
"The Ancestor risked his life to save a member of a certain species from a monster."
"A certain species…?"
"A fairy."
—"Whaa?!" My voice hits the floor in shock.
Mr. Welf smirks at the surprise on my face and continues his story with even more
enthusiasm.
"The fairy did everything it could to save the life of the man who was bleeding out on
the ground. It cut part of its body and gave him some of its own blood."
"S-so that means the Crozzo family has…?"
"Yeah. We've got fairy blood in us."
—Fairies.
Nymphs, spirits, elementals, jinn… Their mysterious race has many names here on
Earth. Their population is extremely small compared to the other races.
"The most loved of all the children." "Children of the gods."
Humans and demi-humans have many stories aboutthem, butthe one common thread
is that fairies are the ones closest to the gods themselves.
"The Ancestor made a full recovery, like nothing ever happened. A full-blown miracle.
However, after that day it was said that he could use magic despite being human… and
he could make magic swords."
Fairies are capable of so much that other races pale in comparison.
They're magic users, like the elves. They can call forth flames, summon wind, create
their own ponds deep in the forests, and even produce precious metals out of thin air.
It might be accurate to say that their power rivals the gods'.
Basically, they can perform miracles.
"So did, did the Crozzo family become heroes…?"
"Nah, nothing like that. Good or bad, The Ancestor was just regular townsfolk."
Fairies appear in many stories, especially stories about heroes—and many of those
stories are based on truth. Gramps told me that.
The fairies in those stories use their power to guide the young hero, sometimes
lending him strength, and using their power of miracles to help him fulfill his destiny
when the time comes.
Usually, they impart magic on the hero or give him a powerful blade, not unlike what
Mr. Welf just said. I even heard about a fairy who turned its own body into a weapon.
Fairies play a big part in heroic deeds of the main characters in each story, and are
sometimes directly involved.
In the time before the gods, having a fairy on your side would have been the equivalent
of a Falna today.
"The Ancestor died at a ripe old age, but his blood was passed on. It's probably due to
more fairy magic, but it's still around today more than a thousand years later. The gods
and goddesses who witnessed everything from above can tell that I'm a member of
that line."
It's said that once the gods came down to this world, more fairies began to interact
with other races. Be that as it may, most of them avoid us. I don't know if they're
whimsical or too proud.
Gnomes are a race of fairy that lives alongside us very well. They may look like little
old men and women, but their knowledge about jewels and valuable materials has
made them a valuable part of our society.
Blessings from the gods and goddesses have made fairies less appreciated compared
to the Old Age. However, their mysterious nature still captivates human and demihuman alike.
"Even though they had the fairy blood of The Ancestor within them, the first few
generations couldn't do much with it… That is, until a Crozzo received a god's blessing.
That changed everything."
"…Skill?"
"Yep. One that let them make magic swords. Every member of the family acquired it
the moment they received their blessing. Nothing to it."
A hidden potential awakened within them as soon as a Crozzo family member received
a Status.
Even after all this time, that fairy's power is still at work.
"Li'l E already told you what happened next. Magic swords were much more powerful
than anything else available, and the Crozzo family sold their work to their king."
Mr. Welf explains that by this time they had become subjects of a kingdom.
To sum everything up, The Ancestor used fairy blood that was given to him in order to
make magic swords before any family members received Falna. Then they became
known as a family of magic swordsmiths because… that blood they all shared unlocked
the ability to create powerful magic swords.
The source of the Crozzos' fame comes down to the quality of their bloodline.
"They really lived it up after that, doing whatever the hell they wanted. Their swords
granted the king's armies unbelievable power; the compliments from the king himself
and rewards for their work kept flowing in. They stuffed their faces with the finest
delicacies, nearly drowned themselves in expensive ale… Smiths behaving like
royalty—what were they thinking?"
Mr. Welf's words trail off in hesitation, his eyes not leaving the flame.
Silence falls.
For the longest time, the only sounds in the workshop are those of the crackling flames
in the forge.
"…The Crozzos got full of themselves. They forgot that they owed everything to the
fairy blood in their veins. Started thinking that their Skill was their power, that magic
swords were their right… Blinded by greed, they kept making more and more."
—"So they were cursed."
Mr. Welf speaks more clearly than he had all morning.
"The kingdom used Crozzo's Magic Swords in war after war… earning the hatred of the
elves in the process by burning down their homes…"
"I-I know."
"It wasn't just elven hatred they wrought, but that of the fairy who saved The Ancestor
as well."
"?!"
"Fairies love to be at one with nature. They surround themselves with it. The magic
swords scarred their mountains, scorched their ponds, annihilated their forests… Just
like the elves, the fairies were chased out of their own homes."
This was the source of the elves' grudge, just like Lyu said.
Did Crozzo's Magic Swords become the fairies' sworn enemy, like how the elves swore
revenge on the Kingdom of Rakia?
"The elves took out their anger on the country. But the fairies, their grudge was with
the Crozzos."
"…"
"And then, just before another battle like any other, all of the magic swords crumbled
without warning. Never-been-used magic swords, fresh out of the forge. It goes
without saying that the kingdom lost that battle without its greatest weapons."
"Did the fairies do that?"
"I'm sure of it. At the same time, the Crozzos lost the ability to make magic swords.
They were cursed by the fairies."
So that's what it means to be cursed…?
When did my shoulders get so tense?
"The kingdom lost over and over after that. The Crozzo family took the blame and was
stripped of nobility. That's the fall from grace. By the time I was born, there was
nothing left from the old days."
From heaven to hell. You reap what you sow, I guess…
That explains the Crozzo family's fall into ruin.
But, wait. Hold on a second…
"You said that the Crozzos couldn't make magic swords, right? But I've heard you can,
Mr. Welf…?"
"Yeah. I can. No clue why."
Maybe the effect of the curse wore off, or maybe the fairies were satisfied with their
revenge. There might also be something special about Mr. Welf.
Even though the reason is unclear, the one thing that he's sure of is that he's the only
Crozzo who can make magic swords right now.
But Mr. Welf ran away from home and broke free from the Crozzo family… He says that
he was nothing but a wanderer when Lady Hephaistos found him.
"I know they were trying to restore the family name, but I'm grateful to my old man
for cramming all these forging techniques into my head. Thanks to him, I learned the
joy of creating something useful."
My body feels a few degrees warmer. I've completely lost track of time, but Mr. Welf
seems to know what's going on. Sensing the right moment, he pulls the drop item out
of the forge and places it on the anvil.
Although the piece of Minotaur Horn is still in its original shape, it looks like it could
melt at any moment, glowing red like that.
"Probably because I didn't hate it. I didn't hate being a shop hand, working alongside
my old man and his tools in a workshop covered in soot.
"That feeling the first time I struck metal…" he says in a voice so quiet I have to strain
to hear him.
A wet sound reaches my ears at the same time.
"However… once they realized I was good at it, my old man forced me to make a magic
sword. He said it was to return the Crozzo family to glory."
Mr. Welf takes a deep breath as he grabs a hammer with his right hand.
His lips go flat into a straight line as his eyes open wide.
This is the first time I've seen him like this—Mr. Welf's smith face.
I hold my breath.
"…Make a tool the king would appreciate, is what he was saying. But he left that part
out."
A moment later, Mr. Welf brings the hammer down on the Minotaur Horn with
incredible force.
"It's not the same. Weapons aren't like that, not even close."
The impact of metal on metal sends a shock wave of sound through the room. The
forging has begun.
Mr. Welf hits the drop item with his hammer as if he's trying to drive his thoughts into
the material.
"Even political tools are no reason to get excited. But weapons, they become part of
their wielder."
A series of shorter, more precise strikes sends out a new chorus of high-pitched echoes
throughout the workshop.
All of the strength he's built up in the Dungeon makes each blow much stronger than
that of a normal man.
"No matter what desperate straits someone is in, they must always be able to count
on their own weapon. From the moment they grip the hilt, it becomes an extension of
their arm."
He starts mixing strong hammer blows with short strikes, the rhythm of the echoes
changing every moment.
The material lengthens with the heavy impacts; the quick hits adjust the shape.
He doesn't wait for me to respond to him. He just keeps talking as the hot object
beneath him takes a new form.
"It's our job as smiths to make weapons that last."
His passion for reliable armor and weapons is pouring out of him. It's almost as if Mr.
Welf himself is on fire.
It's pure devotion to his craft.
"We face down metal at its hottest—at our hottest. A weapon can only be made when
we bring everything we have to bear. What'll happen if we half-ass it? Fail to pour our
sweat and blood into it? What if we forget our own ambition?"
Mr. Welf is slamming his whole world into each strike.
As if his blood is boiling, as if he's possessed by something unseen.
I wonder what he's seeing in the middle of that lump of molten metal…
"I hate magic swords. They will always break before their wielder."
Showers of sparks fly, red beams of light flash.
Flakes of burned metal are launched from the horn with every blow. And yet they all
just flow harmlessly off of Mr. Welf's black coat and to the floor. I wonder if it has some
of the same qualities as adventurer's armor…
Wait, that's it.
His black coat is in such rough shape because it's his work clothes.
Its black color and worn condition are all proof of how hard he's worked, how many
pieces he's made.
"I absolutely despise magic swords. That kind of power rots people's souls. The user,
the smith's pride—anyone and everyone. At the very least, Crozzo's Magic Swords do."
The all-powerful magic swords that corrupted their creators.
"Cursed magic swordsmiths."
I think I finally understand what those words mean.
"I won't make a magic sword. And even if I did, I'd never put it up for sale."
Sweat dripping down to his chin, Mr. Welf raises the hammer again.
Another round of echoes rings out. The workshop is drowned out in a fierce melody
of impacts.
I've been so wrapped up in the spectacle that I forgot to wipe the sweat from my face.
The metallic smell that hit me when I first walked in.
It was so strong that I wanted to cover my nose. But now it seems so far away.
I continue to watch Mr. Welf strike the horn over and over again.
I take a look outside the shutters and see an evening sky. It's almost nighttime.
At last, Mr. Welf is almost finished.
"…That should do it."
"Whoa…!"
Mr. Welf emerges from the corner of the workshop carrying a shallow box in his hands.
He places it on his workbench.
I lean over the bench to get a good look and see a dark red blade inside.
The cutting edge of the blade is so thin I can almost see through it. It's just a little bit
shorter than the Divine Knife. The blade color matches the Minotaur Horn almost
perfectly.
The hilt is a reddish maroon color and is probably shaped to fit my hand.
"T-this… this is… really, really good…!"
"I had good material. Out of all my work so far, this has gotta be my best."
Mr. Welf smiles from ear to ear with the satisfaction of a job well done.
He's being modest, but I can tell by the look in his eye he's very proud of this one. He
wouldn't use the word "best" if he wasn't.
I bow my head over and over to show my gratitude.
"Ah—sorry. Didn't have time to make a sheath. I'll have a custom one ready by
tomorrow, so can you put up with a generic one for tonight?"
"S-sure, of course! Actually, it doesn't have to be tomorrow… It's already late."
"Nah, it's better to finish everything when it's still warm.
"That's how metal is," he says while rotating his right shoulder.
That's just what a smith would say. Hang on, he actually is a smith. I grimace at my own
train of thought.
I wonder if all smiths are people like Mr. Welf. Images of their daily life pass through my
head as I space out for a moment.
"Now, this guy needs a name."
He leans over in front of me and takes a long, hard look at the dark red blade.
His eyes narrow as he scratches his chin with his right hand.
I've never seen someone focus so hard on something before… He slowly opens his
mouth to speak.
"The Young Bull, Ushiwakamaru... No, the Bull Dagger, Minotan."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT! Isn't the first one so much better?!"
"Huh? You like Ushiwakamaru better, Bell?"
"I don't even have to think about it!"
I speak so vigorously that spit flies out of my mouth and toward Mr. Welf.
I do my best to convince him to go with the first name. "Okay then…" he says with a
very sad look in his eyes, but he accepts it.
"All right, take it."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Welf!"
I grab a sheath from his weapon shelf as he holds the dagger out to me.
I say one more thank-you and reach out to take it from him… Woosh! Suddenly the
blade is pointed right at my chest!
"Ehhh?" My jaw slacks in surprise.
"That's it."
"Wh-what's it?"
"That's the last time you call me that uptight name."
His words just add to my dumbfounded shock as my eyes peel back.
"We haven't known each other for long, and I can't say we completely trust each other,
either, but call me something like I call Li'l E.
"Something like friends," adds Mr. Welf—no, Welf—with a grin.
A smile floats to my lips as I respond.
"Gotcha, Welf."
He flips the hilt of the blade forward and I grab hold.