"The Kingdom of Rakia, Lord Ares himself, has recognized the power of your magic
swords. The ones that you forged for that pointless match between deities using our
family's gift."
The match between deities—the War Game.
Just as his skill had attracted attention from the adventurers inside Orario, word of the
incredible strength of Welf's magic swords had spread to the Kingdom of Rakia. And
now Ares had launched an attack in an effort to secure Welf's powerful Crozzo Magic
Swords for himself.
"The only reason this war drags on is because of you."
That harsh truth hit Welf like a punch to the gut, the shock traveling through his entire
body and leaving him speechless.
Those magic swords had once elevated Rakia's army to invincibility, allowing them to
obtain unimaginable levels of glory in the days of yore. Now they wanted to regain that
legendary status by invading Orario to reclaim him.
Welf was floored by the level of Rakia's obsession with Crozzo Magic Swords.
"Of course, we'd been preparing to attack Orario for some time. However, once news
of the War Game reached us, Lord Ares and our king decided to change our plans."
"…!"
"Then it became my role to retrieve you… Come with me, Welf. With you and Crozzo
Magic Swords by our side once again, Rakia shall regain her former glory."
Their deity had a thirst for battle. Welf figured that he most likely wasn't Rakia's only
objective.
However, the fact that the Kingdom of Rakia had raised an army of 30,000 and started
an all-out war just for magic swords, and then sent this man to collect him, only added
fuel to the fire burning in his heart. "Are you brain-dead?!" Welf practically spat the
words from his mouth.
The Guild was very strict when it came to monitoring the flow of capable warriors, so
luring an upper-class adventurer out of the city was next to impossible—and climbing
over the large city wall was no easy feat. Even if Wil managed to make contact with
Welf, the full, outrageous strength of Orario's adventurers would be there to bar his
retreat.
The solution was to bring the 30,000 troops and draw out as many of the adventurers
as possible. Most likely, the reason they were still fighting now was to buy enough time
to get Welf out of Orario.
The Kingdom of Rakia was willing to go to such lengths to reclaim the lost power of
Crozzo Magic Swords.
"Go to hell! Me, join you?! Dream on! I said good-bye to the family and Rakia a long
time ago! There's no reason for me to play along with your batshit insane scheme!"
"Foolish boy, I was giving you a chance to come peacefully out of paternal mercy…"
Father and son, locked in an intense stare down.
The air was electric, but Welf wasn't intimidated by Wil's threatening words. Reaching
for the swords strapped to his back, he curled his lips into a grin.
"So then you're going to kidnap me? Drag me away by force?"
Welf was now aware of the other figures trying to conceal themselves in the darkness.
He looked down to the alleyways, grinning as if itching for a fight.
"We might be out of the way here, but not so far that people won't hear a brawl. This
is Orario—there'll be no escape once they know you're here."
Welf was Level 2. He was stronger than most of the people who lived outside the city,
including the average member of Rakia's army. His opponents would have to employ
other strategies. Although the young man was genuinely surprised that they had made
it this far without being discovered by the Guild, that also meant there couldn't be
many of them. It would take more than a few soldiers to overpower him.
Welf held the advantage, as well as the hilt of his greatsword. However, Wil's
expression remained unchanged as he said to his son:
"If you refuse to come quietly, my comrades within the city will set it ablaze with magic
swords. Authentic Crozzos, at that."
" "
The glint of the blade was a few celch out of its sheath when Welf's hand came to an
abrupt halt.
His eyes trembled in shock as he yelled.
"Don't give me that shit! There can't be any more Crozzo Magic Swords left in Rakia!"
"Actually, yes, there are. Fifty of them were spared at the time of the fairy's curse."
He continued by adding that Welf hadn't been old enough to learn that family secret
before Welf had left.
A smile appeared on Wil's face for the first time.
Back in the days of yore, when Crozzo Magic Swords paved the Kingdom of Rakia's
advance with utter destruction, anything close to the battlefield—be it lakes or
mountains or an elvish forest—became nothing more than piles of charred ash. That
drew the anger of the elves and other fairies, who broke all the magic swords into
useless fragments. Their last act was to place a curse on the family of blacksmiths who
created them. Now, Welf was the only member of the family able to forge magic
swords.
However, there was no uncertainty in Wil's voice when he claimed that several of the
magic swords had survived the fairies' purge and the curse.
"The commanders were afraid of losing them, so they sat collecting dust all these
years…"
The smile still plastered on his wrinkled face, Wil reached inside his cloak and
withdrew a blade.
"This should be proof enough."
" !"
The weapon firmly in his father's grasp was, without a doubt, a magic sword.
Welf knew in an instant what the red swirling energy inside its blade meant, and it left
him speechless. The Crozzo blood in his veins knew how to recognize one of its own.
This was no bluff.
"My compatriots each have one as well. If I give the signal or fail to return in due time,
they'll unleash hellfire on Orario."
Should the Crozzo Magic Swords be used inside Orario's walls, the results would be
cataclysmic.
Just like the elvish forest and the fairies' homes, this peaceful city would turn into a
sea of flames, its buildings reduced to rubble. Countless civilian lives would be lost
should that come to pass.
Wil could see that his son understood the situation and narrowed his eyes.
"You come with us and none of that happens. Nothing at all."
The elder Crozzo watched the fire disappear from his son's face, and his smirk turned
into an ominous grin.
He then started speaking with unbridled joy, gradually breaking free from years of
suppression with each word.
"Welf, the Kingdom of Rakia will rise once again upon your return! And we, the Crozzo
family, can once again bask in the glory of the old days! Money, status, fame—all of it
ours!"
"…!"
"Lord Ares has given his word that he'll restore our family to its rightful place if you
agree to forge magic swords once again! Our family name will be heralded as it once
was! The Crozzo family's utmost desires will become reality, and I will see it through!"
Wil let his emotions take over, a new light shining in his once-dead eyes as his long
hair waved beneath the tie behind his head.
The vigor in his eyes was very close to the brink of insanity. They twinkled abnormally
bright in the dim light.
Welf was overwhelmed by the devotion of a man trapped by his family's obsession.
The many wrinkles in Wil's face bent and curved as he smiled in his son's direction.
"Make your preparations to leave Orario tonight. Bring all the magic swords you have
in your possession to the storage facilities located on the southwest edge of the city at
midnight… I shouldn't have to remind you what will happen if you tell anyone, right?"
Wil finished giving orders to his son before slipping back into the shadows.
The other figures in the alleyways also retreated, but some stayed close enough that
Welf could still feel their presence. He was being watched.
Welf stood there, staring after his father until he disappeared. His hands clenched into
trembling fists.
After returning home, Welf made up an excuse to spend the night in his workshop to
avoid talking with anyone.
He wasn't confident in his ability to keep a calm expression.
The last thing he wanted was for Hestia to figure out something was wrong.
Alone in the stone building in the rear garden of their home, the light of red flames
illuminating his face, Welf stared into the heart of the fire in the forge. He sat on his
bench, not moving a muscle.
His mind began to churn along with the subtle dance of the flames.
Each shift in the fire brought forth a slew of forgotten memories that had been
awakened by the sudden reunion with his father.
"Listen to the metal's words, lend your ears to its echoes, put your heart into your
hammer."
Before he knew it, there was a hammer in his hand and hot metal over the anvil.
Wham! Wham!
A shower of sparks fell to the floor with each impact, echoes filling the workshop. His
heart listened to the song of the metal, synchronizing with it to create a calm in the
storm. Welf was finding his center.
Crackle, crackle. The sounds of the roaring forge rose into the deepening night.
He had completed the sword by the time he had to depart.
It wasn't a magic sword, but the light-silver weapon emanated a clear glow. A type of
blade he'd never made before was in his grasp.
He spent several moments looking at his reflection on the mirrorlike surface of the
off-white sword. Then he placed it gently on the anvil. Wrapping several other
weapons in a piece of thick white cloth, he left his workshop.
Time had passed much faster than he'd anticipated.
The night sky was clear and filled with stars. No lights came from the windows of
Hearthstone Manor.
Welf gazed at his home for some time before leaving through the back gate.
The appointed time drew near. Welf silently made his way through the streets toward
the outskirts of the city.
When suddenly…
"What the… Bell?!"
He felt the presence of someone following him and moved to confront whoever it was,
only to find the white-haired boy.
Bell stepped directly into the light of a magic-stone lamp and spent several seconds
trying to figure out what to say. A few heavy heartbeats later, he said in a quiet voice:
"You looked upset… And I was worried."
Bell was the only one who had noticed something was off with the smith during their
brief interaction back at home.
Welf was taken aback by the boy who had snuck out at night to follow him… But then
he smiled.
It had happened again, just like on the eighteenth floor when Bell came hopping after
him like some lonely rabbit. It made him feel warm inside.
He reached out with his right hand and ruffled the boy's hair.
Seeing the blank look on the boy's face broke down his last defenses, and Welf smiled
in earnest.
Seeing that softer expression made Bell follow suit.
Welf had been dead set on solving this problem on his own, but now he felt as though
he could share the load. He told the boy about everything that happened earlier that
evening.
"R-Rakia?! Not only that, but your father…!"
"Yeah. That country really has a thing for Crozzo Magic Swords."
Bell was dumbfounded by the news as the two of them continued through the streets.
Welf could still feel the presence of his observers keeping their distance, but what
could they do at this point? With Bell around, they wouldn't be able to sneak up on
him and would be forced to let this transgression slide.
"…So, what are you going to do?"
Bell anxiously looked up, visibly shaken.
He was legitimately worried that the red-haired smith would give in to their demands.
Welf laughed dryly, cracking a grin.
"I'm not gonna leave you—any of you—behind. So don't worry."
He told the boy to leave everything to him.
At the same time, Bell's concern helped Welf relax. The two continued to walk under
the night sky toward their date with destiny.
There was a way station among the storage facilities located on the southwestern edge
of the city.
It served as an entrance for shipments coming into Orario by land and sea. Products
from other regions and countries were brought here and stored until merchants
distributed them across Orario. It also served as a marketplace, as many people came
here to buy unusual items from foreign lands.
Bell and Welf made their way into a part of the facility that housed many large and
small storage warehouses. Magic-stone lamps were few and far between and couldn't
illuminate all the paths that spread out through the facility like a spiderweb. There
were too many dark alleys and blind spots to count. The intimidating presence of the
towering city wall was also nearby.
The two kept a close eye on their surroundings until finally one cloaked man appeared
in an alleyway. He swished his cloak as an indication to follow him. Gulp. Welf heard
Bell swallow hard as he followed the man, the white-haired boy at his side.
The alleyway was completely deserted except for the sound of three sets of footsteps.
The cloaked man led them to an old rectangular warehouse that had seen better days.
"—I told you to come alone, Welf."
"I meant to, but he followed me here on his own. What was I supposed to do?"
Wil Crozzo stood in the middle of the old storage unit, illuminated by the moonlight
coming through the glass windows at the top of its high walls.
The man's eyebrows sank in displeasure. Welf, however, reached out and ruffled Bell's
hair with his right hand.
Wil watched the white-haired boy blush as his son teased him. "It doesn't matter," he
said with a forced smile.
"Was nice meeting him, but this is where the two of you say good-bye."
Wil reached into his cloak and withdrew his magic sword. Almost on cue, other
hooded figures emerged from the shadows of the old warehouse.
There were at least fifty of them, far more than Welf had expected.
Bell at his side, the young man braced himself in the face of overwhelming numbers.
"How the hell did all you get into Orario? Were the gatekeepers sleeping?"
"The Guild might be powerful, but Orario is no fortress. Merchants, familias… There
are several ways of getting in and out."
Wil left his words open to interpretation, conjuring ideas of a mole inside Orario or
that the Guild's surveillance was far from perfect. It served only to worsen Welf's state
of mind.
Wil's allies started stepping into the moonlight—the soldiers of Ares Familia had
concealed their identities with an assortment of hooded robes and capes, disguising
themselves as travelers. Drawing knives and daggers from sheaths hidden at their
waists, the warriors moved to surround Bell and Welf.
"Now, foolish boy. You're coming with us!"
Bell and Welf stood ready. Wil's voice crackled with a joyous laugh. But then…
Countless magic-stone lamps flickered to life, flooding the warehouse with bright
light.
"?!"
Wil, his soldiers, Bell, and Welf were stunned.
A ring of demi-humans that outnumbered Rakia's soldiers had the entire group
surrounded. The warehouse was under their control.
Welf squinted to protect his eyes from the sudden rush of light coming from their
lamps. The first thing he saw when his eyes adjusted was the emblem engraved into
the newcomers' armor.
Hammers overlapping in front of a volcano.
"He-Hephaistos Familia?!"
Bell's voice echoed through the warehouse at the same time the ring of demi-humans
parted to allow a woman through.
"Well, looks like Finn hit the nail right on the head."
"Tsubaki?!"
Welf's jaw dropped at the sight of the female smith, her long black ponytail swishing
back and forth and one eye hidden by an eye patch.
Leading a familia known the world over, Tsubaki appeared alongside the many High
Smiths who composed one of Orario's most powerful groups of adventurers and
artisans. Wil's voice shook as he yelled as loud as he could:
"Wh-why, how did you find us?!"
"Oh, we've known about this little ploy for a while now. So we've been keeping a close
eye on your target."
Wil's face tensed in a mix of shock and disbelief. At the same time, Tsubaki's lips pulled
back into a smug grin as she spoke.
Loki Familia, realizing that Rakia's army had been avoiding a decisive battle, had
figured out their true objective. Working together with the Guild, they had ordered
that Hestia Familia—especially Welf—be put under surveillance.
"So I was bait, was I…?"
Welf's anger was palpable as he yelled at Tsubaki when she finished explaining to his
father and the Rakian soldiers. That was the reason why she had kept showing up—
even at the Dungeon—over the past few days.
Tsubaki shrugged off Welf's fiery glare as a deity appeared next to her.
"My children have captured the reinforcements you had stationed outside the
warehouse. Be grateful."
"G-Goddess Hephaistos…?!"
Wil recoiled at the appearance of the goddess who wore an eye patch similar to but
on the opposite side of Tsubaki's.
Hephaistos's eye patch, beauty, crimson eye, and hair were instantly recognizable all
over the world. Her sudden appearance stunned even Rakia's soldiers. Wil fired back
with a tone that bordered on insanity.
"This isn't over! We still have our magic swords—the power of Crozzo is on our side!"
He lifted the sparkling red blade in his grasp—the Crozzo Magic Sword—high into the
air. An anxious chill ran through Bell and the members of Hephaistos Familia.
It was one of the last legendary magic swords said to be able to "burn away the sea."
Tsubaki's expression became far more severe in the face of a weapon perfectly suited
to take on superior numbers.
Hephaistos remained calm and composed. She cast her gaze onto the still silent Welf.
Rakia's soldiers were invigorated by Wil's call; each drew their own magic swords one
by one.
"Welf, come with us if you don't want to see the city become an ocean of flames!"
Wil called out to his son, with eyes that had long ago lost their vigor now burning from
ghastly desperation.
"Well, didn't plan for that. So, what to do… eh, Welfy boy?"
"All of you stay out of this."
"Welf!"
"You, too. Trust me."
Tsubaki called out to the red-haired man walking toward his father. But Welf didn't
look up when he responded. When Bell also took a few steps toward him, Welf flashed
a grin over his shoulder.
A look of relief washed across Wil's face as his son came closer.
"That's right, Welf! Now come, hand over all the magic swords you brought!"
Welf continued to walk toward his overjoyed father but came to a stop ten paces in
front of him.
Everyone in the warehouse watched with bated breath as Welf reached into the roll of
white cloth he carried over his shoulder.
The young man withdrew a single dark-crimson longsword from within the mass of
blades contained inside the cloth. Then he raised it.
"This is all I got."
"What…?"
"Yeah. This is the only one I made."
He declared that at his home and workshop, this was the only Crozzo Magic Sword
there was.
It was then that Wil realized that Welf had brought all the other weapons wrapped in
the cloth to help him break away from their clutches. His face instantly changed from
surprise to burning red with rage.
Welf simply said there was no way to forge a magic sword in less than half a day and
shrugged.
"Already forgotten what I told you, foolish boy…? Orario will become a hellscape…!"
Welf interrupted his father's trailing protests.
"That sword in your hand is the only real Crozzo, isn't it?"
" "
Bell, Tsubaki, and all of Hephaistos Familia reflexively leaned closer to the two men in
the center of the warehouse after hearing those words.
Only Hephaistos herself was unaffected as she watched the tense scene play out.
"Spending some time cooped up in my shop was just what I needed to cool off. Even if
that many magic swords survived the purge, there's no way Rakia would let them all
out at the same time."
Just like his family, Welf knew the Kingdom of Rakia pined for its glory days when
Crozzo Magic Swords reigned supreme, and was therefore very attached to them. They
wouldn't risk the few magic swords that remained on a plan that might or might not
succeed. It was highly unlikely that this expeditionary force would be granted access
to the remaining Crozzos in the first place.
He had reasoned that their original plan must have been to reunite with their allies
outside the city wall, armed with all the new Crozzo Magic Swords he had supposedly
forged, and then trap Alliance forces in a deadly pincer.
Welf had figured out that his return to Rakia was the bargaining chip, how his father
had negotiated his way to acquiring one of their precious remaining magic swords.
Wil stood there in shocked silence, all but confirming Welf's suspicions. His allies did
indeed all carry magic swords, but they were not Crozzo Magic Swords. Each of them
exchanged nervous glances.
Welf stood tall, confident. Wil took a step back in the face of his son's sharp gaze.
"Gah GRHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Wil's eyes suddenly flashed as he howled with rage.
"Stay back! Just one is enough to burn all of you into oblivion!"
Another wave of nervous energy shot through the warehouse as the man holding the
sparkling red blade teetered on the verge of losing his mind.
Their fate would be determined by the flick of the wrist. Bell thrust out his right arm
to unleash his own Magic at any moment. Tsubaki licked her lips, her hand nervously
resting on the hilt of her thick katana, her right foot shifting closer to get the best jump
possible.
Amid all this tension, Welf said:
"Do it."
His father froze. Welf's red hair flicked to the side as he jeered coldly at the man.
"Go ahead and try."
He grinned, flashing his teeth.
His father must have gone past the breaking point because he ignored his allies' calls
to stop and took a step forward with the Crozzo Magic Sword held high above his head.
"Y-you FOOLISH BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY!!"
Then, before the red sword could fall—
Before Bell, the High Smiths, and even Tsubaki could react—
Welf's eyes flew open as he slashed the dark-crimson longsword in his grasp with all
his might.
"—Raging Inferno!!"
An explosion of flames rushed forward.
At the same time, a wave of fire surged from Wil's red magic sword to meet it.
In front of all of Welf's current and former allies, in front of Hephaistos's intense oneeyed gaze, the young smith's crimson flames absorbed and overpowered the red—and
wiped them out. A roaring fire and a small mountain of sparks filled the warehouse,
the heat blasting in all directions.
Those who were caught in it were thrown off their feet; others dropped to all fours in
a desperate effort to withstand the shock wave. Red hakama violently shifting around
her legs, Tsubaki stood tall in front of her goddess to protect her.
Then, when everyone's eyes had recovered from the red glare enough to comprehend
their surroundings…
Bell and the other observers slowly looked up… and saw Welf, standing tall on both
feet, and Wil, firmly planted on his rear atop the charred floor of the warehouse.
Wil's face froze in disbelief, when suddenly—CRACK! The red magic sword in his grasp
fell to pieces. Welf's dark-crimson longsword was not only still in one piece but
sparkling with even more magic energy.
The difference between the power of the two blades, as well as their limits, was plain
for all to see. There was no comparison.
The magic sword forged by the boy, who had coughed up blood working as hard as he
could to improve his Status, was superior to the one forged by his forefathers, who
relied on only their inborn talent. That was all it was.
"…Why?!"
Wil, absolutely dumbstruck as he stared at the remains of the magic sword, howled at
his son.
Trembling from head to foot, the last of his self-control disappeared and every pentup emotion came raging out of him at once.
"Why do you not forge magic swords when you have all that power?!"
"…"
"Why do you not use that power for your family—for your country?!"
Welf didn't respond to his father's howls.
With Bell, Hephaistos, and Tsubaki looking on, he tightened his grip on the magic
sword in his hand.
"Why is it you who can forge magic swords?! If it were me, if I had been born with the
gift, by now…! Damn you, you worthless boy!"
Wil climbed to his feet as he unloaded years of frustration onto Welf.
The man's eyes were bloodshot, not much different from a ferocious beast's, as his
cloak rippled around his body. "Are you still spouting that bullshit, that you can't stand
to see a weapon that'll break? Weapons are disposable! You can just make another
one!"
That got Welf's attention. He glared daggers at his father. But Wil didn't notice and
continued his rant. "'Make more blades, bask in never-ending honor'—have you
forgotten the teachings of the blacksmith nobility who obtained glory with magic
swords?"
With those words, Welf exploded. "What blacksmith nobility?! What honor?!"
The young man's voice cut through the air inside the blackened warehouse. Wil fell
silent as Welf took several impassioned steps forward.
A moment later, Welf's clenched fist buried itself deep in his father's cheek.
"GEH!"
The Rakian soldiers watched their leader fall to the ground in disbelief. Several
stepped forward, drawing their weapons, but…
"Stay right there!"
Welf's rage-filled warning made them freeze on the spot.
While the howl of the High Smith instilled fear in the soldiers, it was intended for Bell
and Tsubaki as well.
"Stand up! On your feet!"
"…!"
Discarding his magic sword and white cloth full of weapons, Welf grabbed his father's
collar with both hands.
Once Wil was back on his feet, lip split and bleeding, the red-haired young man
delivered another blow.
"UGAH!"
"The 'pride of nobility'? Have all of you forgotten the need that drives all smiths?!"
The flurry of punches and verbal strikes drove Wil backward, but he raised his head,
cheeks burning red with rage.
Wil channeled that anger into his fists and threw a punch the moment that Welf's face
was exposed. It connected with the young man's jaw.
"Compared to honor, our futile desires are nothing more than trash!" Wil unleashed
his mind and fist at the same time, making Welf recoil. However, the young man was
quick to strike back. The dull impacts of their punches sounded throughout the
warehouse. Knuckles dug into cheeks.
Both men staggered, struggling to maintain balance as they exchanged powerful
blows. Wil was clearly surprised by the strength of his son's punches. Welf launched
another verbal tirade.
"The hell you callin' trash?! Can't hear you, you done-for old man!"
"You… you… YOU FOOLISH BOOOOOOOOOOOOY!!"
Overcome with rage, Wil knocked his son's arms out of the way and jumped in close
with his right fist held high.
However, every time his father's fist connected with his face, Welf was quick to counter
with an elbow or a punch of his own.
The onlookers, including Bell, watched in stunned silence,their eyes intently following
every move.
The current situation and their physical pain long forgotten, father and son continued
to intensify their fighting. Nothing else mattered to them anymore.
"A weapon only needs to be strong! Pretty words don't change a thing!"
Brown hair and red hair whipped back and forth with each blow.
Both father's and son's faces were already a swollen mishmash of black and blue, with
streaks of blood leaking from broken skin. Red droplets scattered every time another
punch connected.
His father's fists continuously pummeled his face, but Welf held his ground. The young
man refused to show any pain as he powered through the impacts and retaliated.
"GHA…!"
Wil lost his balance and staggered backward. Welf roughly wiped the blood off his face
with his forearm.
"Right now, I'm no different from any other guy who swings a magic sword!"
"…!"
"Is that real power? Is it our fate to keep making these things?"
On one side, a Level 2 High Smith. On the other, a Level 1 descendant of fallen
blacksmith nobility.
Despite the absurdity of it all, Welf put all his being into every punch, his spirit behind
every blow.
"Of course it isn't! It can't be!"
His father's eyes went wide as Welf drove his fist directly into the man's jaw.
"A weapon is part of its wielder! A valued partner that stays by their side through thick
and thin, carving a way forward! A piece of their soul!"
"That's… that's nonsense…!"
"As smiths, we have to take pride in providing that kind of weapon!"
Catching a glimpse of the white-haired boy out of the corner of his eye, Welf delivered
three more blows.
He poured all his soul into his blood-splattered fists.
"…We'll have nowhere to go if we get run out of the kingdom! The name of Crozzo
cannot survive without the glory of nobility! We will not survive…! Why can't you
understand that?"
The bloodline had lost its noble status, its pride. The moment the family was exiled, it
would lose the only way that Wil knew how to live and would die out before long.
The only way to save their family was with magic swords.
Wil insisted that the power lurking in their blood, the magic swords it could produce,
was the only path to their salvation. His powerless punches barely connected, but his
voice was still as passionate as ever.
"You're alive, aren't you? Your hands can still swing a hammer, grasp metal!"
"…!"
Welf grabbed his father's collar and pulled him in close.
He glared directly into the older man's eyes, his throat trembling as he shouted:
"A hammer, metal, and a burning desire! With those, you can forge a weapon
anywhere! Nobility, kingdom—they don't mean shit!"
Wil bore the brunt of his son's rage as Welf tried desperately to make his father see
the truth that was in plain sight.
Hephaistos watched as Welf repeated the words that were on the verge of being
forgotten.
"—'Listen to the metal's words, lend your ears to its echoes, put your heart into your
hammer'! You and Granddad taught me that, didn't you?"
A smelly workshop covered in soot.
His youth, when he worked alongside his father and grandfather, putting hammer to
metal.
A time before the latent abilities in his blood awakened, when the disgraced family
was determined to make a new name for itself without magic swords. A time when
three generations of smiths came together to make that a reality.
Days that had once existed in their past.
Welf awakened those memories in his father. Wil's eyes quivered.
Flexing the powerful muscles in his arms and tightening his grip on his father's collar,
Welf was nearing tears as his voice exploded once again.
"Where did that pride go?"
Those words hung in the air, echoing throughout the warehouse.
They lingered in the ears of Rakia's soldiers, the High Smiths, and Bell. No one moved.
His breathing ragged, Welf kept his grip on his father's cloak and broke off eye contact
by looking at the floor.
Wil's face was an absolute mess. The older man's eyes widened, and he let his arms
drop.
All focused on the two smiths. A thick stillness descended on the warehouse.
"Enough."
An old man's voice broke the heavy silence.
One figure stepped forward from the group of Rakian soldiers and pulled back his
hood.
Welf's shoulders trembled the moment he saw the man's eagle-like eyes between his
white hair and white beard.
"Granddad…?!"
"Father…!"
Welf continued to stare at his grandfather as Wil turned to face him.
Garon Crozzo.
Quite muscular despite his advanced age, the man stepped into the moonlight with his
spine straight and head held high. He was even taller than Welf, over 170 celch. The
former head of the Crozzo family, he and his son Wil were the ones who had given Welf
his foundation as a smith.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Welf had learned what a smith should be by
watching this man shape metal to his will.
The red-haired young man did his best to hide the shock of learning his grandfather
had come to Orario as well.
"…Granddad, you came here for the same reason as…"
"I did. I, too, was called upon to ensure your return."
Welf stepped away from Wil, gaining some distance before turning to face his
grandfather with his fists ready.
The eldest Crozzo, however, cast his gaze on Wil, who'd fallen to his knees.
"But, enough."
"…!"
"Your will is too strong, much like tempered steel."
The corners of Garon's lips curved upward, sending a jolt along Welf's spine.
Never once in all his life had Welf seen his grandfather smile.
"Back when you were still a youngster, I was never sure if forcing you to make magic
swords was the right decision… Looking at you now, it's my greatest regret."
There was a great deal of remorse in his low voice.
When his talent was discovered seven years ago, and Wil was dead set on forcing him
to forge one Crozzo Magic Sword after another, Welf had looked to him for help.
Instead, the elder Crozzo had stared down at his grandson with an emotionless face
and said, "Do it," in no uncertain terms.
For Welf at the time, Garon himself was the very essence of a smith. Receiving that
direct order was an incredible shock and pushed him to the brink of despair. That
event had become the main reason Welf ran away from home, from the Kingdom of
Rakia, to start a new life.
Hearing his grandfather's true feelings caught Welf by surprise. But there was an edge
to Garon's expression.
"However, the blood in your veins will never disappear. The curse of Crozzo will hound
you for the rest of your days, endlessly drawing you back to the path of magic swords,"
Garon continued, eyes burning with a passion that time hadn't taken away. "Despite
this fate, are you certain your will won't bend?"
His words had a great deal in common with Tsubaki's; their content was almost
identical.
They both pointed to the makings of the blacksmith and whether or not he would
access the power hidden in his blood.
He hadn't been able to say anything to Tsubaki. At that time, a feeling of powerlessness
had shaken his will.
That was then—this was now.
Standing before his father and grandfather—his link to the Crozzo family—reminded
him of a conviction he couldn't afford to bend.
"No way in hell!"
Welf responded to Garon without missing a beat.
He let his level of devotion be known, especially to Tsubaki, who was standing not too
far away.
"I'll forge a weapon that puts magic swords to shame! Our bloodline means nothing,
and I'll prove it! I'm not just a Crozzo—I'm my own man!"
He would make a weapon his way, something that wasn't a Crozzo Magic Sword.
He put words to the ambition that drove him to create something godlike.
"…Cheeky young'un."
Garon narrowed his eyes after Welf made his case.
Almost as if he was happy to see how much his grandson had grown.
"We won't pursue you any further."
"But, Father! If we don't… our place in the kingdom, it's as good as gone…!"
Wil looked up from his crouched position, voicing his objection to Garon's decision.
Every muscle in his wizened face strained under his bloody skin as he pleaded to the
elder Crozzo. The old man responded calmly.
"We will start over. Not as blacksmith nobility but as smiths."
Wil couldn't say anything back. His gaze slowly dropped to the ground as he clenched
his trembling hands into fists.
Then Garon made eye contact with his grandson.
"'With a hammer, metal, and a burning passion, a weapon can be forged
anywhere'…was it? You couldn't be more correct."
Garon looked away from Welf and over to the goddess who had taught him this
valuable lesson.
He narrowed his eyes down to a sliver, as if trying to peer straight through her, before
going into a deep bow.
"We surrender, oh Goddess. The responsibility is mine and mine alone. Please have
mercy on my companions."
"…Fine, then. I shall."
Hephaistos slowly nodded, accepting his declaration of defeat.
No one among the Rakian soldiers voiced any objection. Their defeat had been a
foregone conclusion the momentthat Wil's Crozzo Magic Sword shattered. Completely
surrounded by High Smiths, they knew they were in no position to resist. Dropping to
their knees and discarding their weapons, they held out their hands for the members
of Hephaistos Familia to tie them up.
"Idiot."
"…"
Tsubaki busied herself with restraining the soldiers but still found time to get in a
verbal jab even without looking at him.
Welf could hear the disappointment in her voice as she led the prisoners away, but he
said nothing.
He stood in the center of the charred warehouse, battered and bruised as he watched
Rakia's soldiers be escorted out the exit and toward Guild Headquarters.
His father, Wil, and grandfather, Garon, hands tied behind their backs, were among
them.
At the last possible moment before leaving through the open doorway, Garon flashed
him one more grin. Welf burned that image into his memory.
Even once his family members were gone, Welf continued to stare at the open door
like a statue.
"Welf…"
Bell and Hephaistos had stayed behind.
They looked at the red-haired man, standing alone in the moonlight shining in from
overhead.
The light of magic-stone lamps started to fade from the streets of Orario as night came
to an end. The moon overhead became faint as the eastern sky took on a lighter hue.
Welf sat cross-legged beneath the last of the night sky as it steadily became brighter
all around him.
He was on the roof of the warehouse. High above the ground and doing his best
impression of a stone statue, he kept to himself without saying a word.
"…"
Bell stood a little ways behind him, unsure what to do.
The clash with the Crozzo family behind him, Welf wanted to be alone. So he had
climbed up to the roof, taken a seat near the edge, and hadn't moved since. Bell
understood the young man wanted some space and kept his distance.
He'd been outside in the chilly night air for several hours now and was very cold.
However, the white-haired boy couldn't just leave the young man behind.
Unable to find the right words, he settled for staring at the man's back the whole time.
"So, the two of you were up here."
"Lady Hephaistos…"
The clanging of the goddess's boots against the steel roof announced the arrival of
Hephaistos. Bell turned to face her as she walked up behind him.
She came to a stop shoulder to shoulder with the boy, squinting her left eye as she
observed the young man beneath the sky that grew brighter by the moment.
"Bell Cranell. Can you leave this to me?" The deity asked if she could be alone with the
smith.
Bell stood wide-eyed for a moment but responded with a short nod. He made a quick
bow and left the situation to the goddess before climbing down off the roof.
Hephaistos walked up to the young man as the boy's footsteps grew fainter in the
distance.
"The Rakian soldiers are now in Guild custody."
"…"
"Their path of entry has also been revealed. An informant let them inside on the
promise that they would start a war. Their main objective was to acquire you, though
whether or not there were others remains to be seen…"
Welf remained sitting with his legs crossed even as Hephaistos gave him a factual
update on the current situation.
She wasn't looking at him, though. Instead, her eye was focused on the open skyline
as she continued her report.
"The Guild will negotiate with Rakia to pay for their release. Even if talks fall through,
they'll be released outside the city once things die down."
"…I see," whispered Welf after hearing the fate of his father and grandfather.
Daybreak had arrived. The two were side by side, watching the sunrise.
"…Am I out of my mind?"
Welf finally said something as sunbeams reached out to them from the eastern sky.
His decision to leave the blood in his veins in the past and find a different route to a
higher realm occupied his thoughts.
The young man's gaze didn't leave his lap as he spoke to the goddess.
"Maybe. Who knows?"
"…"
"Tsubaki is not wrong. Children like yourself are only allotted a brief window of time.
In order to reach where we deities stand, you must commit everything you are toward
accomplishing that goal." Hephaistos laid everything out plainly. "But," continued the
goddess as Welf pushed his lips together, "you've made a commitment, have you not,
Welf?"
"…I have."
"Then never doubt yourself. There's nothing more fragile than hollow steel."
Then the Goddess of the Forge turned to Welf and smiled.
"If there's one thing that we look for in children, it's a will powerful enough to make
the impossible possible. We want to witness that moment when the children called
heroes overcome incredible odds and fight when all hope is lost."
All deities wanted to look upon "children" who defied logic and reason. The goddess
said in a soft, gentle voice that she knew of the potential those like Welf possessed.
"…I will catch up to you—my way."
Climbing to his feet, Welf reaffirmed his ambitions to the goddess.
There was no uncertainty left in his voice. He squared his shoulders and looked
directly into Hephaistos's eye.
"Is only catching up enough?"
"…I'll surpass you."
The eye next to the black bandage squinted, as if the goddess was enjoying the
moment. Welf also cracked a grin.
Hephaistos's expression was something similar to a mother taking pride in her child's
growth. Then she reached out with her right hand.
She started to run her fingers through his hair, gently patting him on the head.
"—Wh-what do you think you're doing?!" Welf tensed, blushing bright pink as he
swatted the goddess's hand away.
"Oh, you don't like this?"
"I-I'm not a kid anymore! Do that to someone Bell's age!"
"Hee-hee. It's really cute how you try to act like a big brother. I like that about you,
actually."
"!!!!!!!!!!!"
Hephaistos enjoyed a lighthearted giggle as Welf's ears burned bright red.
Indeed, he put on the air of the eldest brother around his new familia, but he couldn't
maintain it in front of this deity.
"Dammit," he swore under his breath, and hid part of his blushing face with his
forearm. For a moment, seeing that smile from the fiery-colored deity nearly made
him fall for her. He scolded himself for it.
But more than that, the fact that he couldn't say anything back reaffirmed the feelings
that he had for her. It was just as Tsubaki had said: He admired Hephaistos as a
goddess, as a smith—and as a woman.
It had started as an ambition to make something equal to or greater than the Goddess
of the Forge. His goal was to show her that he could create something in her league or
even something beyond it.
But that ambition changed little by little each time he stood in her presence.
He was the same as Bell, plain and simple. An immense respect and admiration had
quickly become a longing for his idol. The weapons she created were what caught his
attention, but he soon fell for the goddess who forged them.
He wasn't naive enough to call it infatuation, nor was he formal enough to call it love.
I'd prefer to call it… an occupational hazard.
He continued to look at the side of the goddess's face, with his smile and blushing
cheek hidden by the palm of his hand.
"…Or so you say. But is it true?"
"?"
The sun had almost completely emerged on the eastern horizon. Welf, who'd been
getting teased this entire time, folded his arms across his chest and said that
something didn't add up. "I heard from that woman… from Tsubaki that you've been
lonely since I left."
A blank look took over Hephaistos's face.
"Haaa…" A long sigh soon followed. "…My word, that child cannot keep a thing to
herself."
She was neither flustered nor angry. She was just complaining about this slipup by one
of her familia's most well-known members.
With Hephaistos admitting the truth right away, Welf had lost his only way to retaliate.
But at the same time he was also a little sad… Finding out that she didn't see him that
way sent a twinge of pain through his heart.
What's more, realizing that Tsubaki's choice of words had given him hope in the first
place now made him want to curl up in a little hole and die.
"Well, yes, it's been much too quiet without you around. 'Haaa, another one of my
children has left the nest.' That kind of empty feeling."
"Okay then…"
Welf was too embarrassed to make eye contact despite her gentle tone. Instead, he
stretched out his shoulder and squeezed the muscles with his other hand.
"I would never say this to any of my followers… but you're no longer in my familia, so
yes, I'll say it. I had my eye on you and couldn't wait to see what you would become."
Hearing his goddess's true thoughts once again threw Welf's feelings into chaos.
That was most likely the highest compliment she could give him as the Goddess of the
Forge. As a smith, there was no greater honor. It made his body tremble.
Whether or not Hephaistos knew what was going through Welf's mind, she turned to
face him with a twinkle in her eye and an evil grin on her lips.
"And I was going to reward you if you ever forged something that satisfied me… Too
bad."
She glanced at him out of the corner of her left eye, obviously teasing. At the same
time, a switch flicked on inside Welf's head as he looked at the crimson-haired,
crimson-eyed goddess.
"Is that still on the table?"
"Is what still on the table?"
"If I bring you a weapon that makes your jaw drop, will you still reward me?"
Hephaistos, caught off guard for once, stuttered, "Y-yes. Yes, if you can," to the young
man whose cheeks were now as red as his hair.
His rash attempt to secure a promise from another familia's goddess a success, Welf
took it a step further by harnessing the passion once again burning within him.
"If I do… if I make a weapon that satisfies you, then I want you to be mine!"
He said it.
Welf overcame his reservations, as well as the roaring of his heart thumping in his
ears, and watched Hephaistos carefully.
After hearing his once-in-a-lifetime confession, the stunned goddess… tried to hide a
giggle behind her fingertips.
"I-I'm putting my neck out there and you…!"
"Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee…! S-sorry, but I just… can't help it…!"
With her free hand on her stomach, the goddess's body swayed as she laughed. In fact,
her lungs were in pain because she couldn't breathe.
Finally calming down enough to wipe the tears flowing out of her left eye, Hephaistos
smiled at him. "It's been so long since I've had those words said to me."
"Huh?" Welf froze on the spot. Hephaistos continued.
"Several of my followers a long time ago… Smiths confessed their love for me, just like
you did."
Welf had become nothing more than a breathing statue. The Goddess of the Forge
smiled at him with her left eye. "You're being outdone by your predecessors."
Now he really wanted to die.
This time, death sounded really, really good.
An urge to jump off the roof shot through his body.
Why are we all like this…?!
Stubborn to a fault, it seemed smiths could confess their feelings only to someone far
superior. Welf grabbed his beet-red head and cursed every smith who ever lived,
including himself.
Hephaistos continued to giggle to herself as the mortal experienced even more agony.
However, her expression quickly became subdued.
"However, not a single one succeeded."
Welf's ears perked up. He raised his head from his hands.
There was a grin on the goddess's lips, the grin of someone issuing a challenge.
"Will you be the first?"
Welf forgot to breathe. He couldn't even blink as the crimson-haired goddess looked
right through him. A confident smile appeared on his face a few heartbeats later. He
looked her square in the eye. "You bet I will."
He would make a weapon that surpassed magic swords, belonged in the higher realm,
and exceeded this goddess's expectations.
Now he had more goals to achieve.
The morning sun warming the side of his face, he exchanged glances with the goddess.
"Still… all this talk about me being yours aside, it's about time for you to find a partner
of your own."
She must have been satisfied with Welf's mental recovery because she changed the
subject as she stretched her arms in the early morning light.
At the same time…"Huh?" Welf tensed again, blindsided by her words.
"You're pretty stubborn, but I'm sure you can find yourself a great girl."
"H-hang on a sec! I'm not fooling around here…!"
"Welf, there's nothing to gain by pursuing an immortal like myself. A family will never
happen."
Hephaistos forced a smile to try and stave off Welf's latest advance.
"Not to mention I don't meet the standards of a true woman."
There was no sense of belittlement or self-scorn in her voice. The words naturally
came out of her mouth as she reached for her right eye—and ran her fingers down the
black bandage.
"There's a face under here that's so hideous it'll make you cringe."
"…!"
"Strange, isn't it? A goddess like me. I've never been able to figure it out, no matter
how much thought I put into it. I was ridiculed by the other deities in Tenkai,
constantly laughed at."
Her fingers softly ran down the bandage as she did her best to smile.
The Goddess of the Forge, Hephaistos.
The one with power over fire and metalwork possessed a "hideous" face unbecoming
of a deity.
Gods and goddesses were supposed to be the living embodiment of perfection. And
yet, even with her divine powers of Arcanum, Hephaistos had been unable to do
anything about the true face that made her the Goddess of the Forge.
She had avoided interacting with her own kind, been called "grotesque," and been
laughed at throughout her entire existence.
"To this day, there's only been one goddess who didn't laugh or jeer at me after seeing
my true face—Hestia."
Hephaistos's cheeks relaxed as she explained why there was a strong connection
between her and the young goddess. Why Hestia was her one and only friend.
"Even the ones who sought me out on Gekai became afraid. So please, don't pursue
this any further."
She flashed a meek grin before turning away from Welf.
The young man watched her take a few steps, her back getting smaller.
Welf stayed rooted to the spot for a moment before his eyes opened wide and he
caught up with her in a few long strides.
Although he knew it was on the verge of blasphemy for him to do so, Welf reached out
and grabbed Hephaistos's shoulder. Then he pulled her around to face him once again.
Face-to-face with the shocked goddess, he reached out toward the black bandage with
his left hand.
"Wh-what are you doing?!"
Ignoring her startled voice, Welf pulled the bandage off her face, his fingers gliding
against the fringe of the deity's crimson hair.
Hephaistos didn't budge. This was the first time for the young man to see both her
eyes.
The true face of the Goddess of the Forge was revealed.
Standing slightly shorter than he, Hephaistos only stared up at him, crimson pupils
trembling. As for Welf—his expression didn't change in the slightest. "Meh," he said
with a shrug.
The corners of his lips pulled back into a grin. "Come on, Lady Hephaistos, that's
nothing. Did you think I'd give up on you for something like this?"
He gently placed the bandage in the goddess's hands and gave her a resolute grin.
"This is nowhere near enough to quell the fires you stoked in my heart."
The deity looked up at him for a few moments before slowly reattaching the black
bandage that served as an eye patch.
With almost half her face now covered, she lightly shook her head, crimson hair
waving in the morning light as she looked at her former follower.
"You certainly talk the talk."
"Now we're even."
"Haaah! Smiths. Every single one of them stubborn and hating to lose."
Hephaistos returned his grin and added her own verbal jab.
Welf knew he had finally taken a point back from the goddess. One look at her clear
expression brought a shadow of pride to his face.
The two stood beneath the sunrise. Surrounded by cool morning air, the young man
and the goddess exchanged smiles.
Later that day.
Only those directly involved with the small-scale Rakian invasion knew what had
occurred. Even most Guild employees were kept in the dark.
Guild higher-ups thought that informing the public would do more harm than good,
so they dealt with everything themselves. The captured enemy soldiers were held in
chambers deep in the Pantheon, far out of sight.
Life in Orario continued as normal, the citizens unaware of what might have happened
had events turned out differently.
Amid all that…
"And then Welf—you know what Welf did?"
In an office of the workshop, the voice of an exceptionally chipper goddess echoed off
the walls.
"You've told me seven times, Ladyship…"
Hephaistos sat in a chair, cheeks in her hands and elbows on her desk. Tsubaki held a
large stack of paperwork in her arms as she gave her goddess an annoyed glare.
Ever since their conversation,Hephaistos had been going on and on aboutthe moment
that Welf captured her heart. Plain and simple, she sounded like a teenager with a
crush. Of course when she was in front of him, and in front of her followers, she
maintained the dignified air of a goddess. However, that was not the case in her private
quarters.
Softly blushing, Hephaistos began to recount her story with a giddy grin on her face.
Tsubaki let out a long sigh and braced herself for the eighth time.
"Sure took you long enough to find your feminine side…" muttered Tsubaki through
gritted teeth.
She was clearly frustrated that her high-spirited goddess hadn't done any work all day.
"Now you've done it…" she whispered out the window at the smith who had finally
found a way to get back at her.
Even later that day.
As with Tsubaki, Hephaistos was unable to keep her story secret and spread the news
even further. Other gods and goddesses knew every detail about her interaction with
the man before nightfall. The line that had stolen her heart became a punch line.
""""Lame—!"""" Everyone had the same reaction, and the entertainment-starved
deities had something to provide them with laughs for a long time to come.
The naming ceremony of Denatus was scheduled for the next day. With this story fresh
in their minds, they decided the young man's title quickly and decisively.
Henceforth, Welf Crozzo would bear the title of… Ignis, the Ever-Burning.
And so it was that the young man was forced to endure a giggling Lilly and Hestia, a
moved and inspired Mikoto and Haruhime, and Bell's forced smile whenever the
origin of his title was mentioned.
He had to hide his blushing cheeks every single time.