Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka - Volume MM&L-1 - Chapter 6.2

TO A SWORD ABOUT TO BE BORN

The hammer struck again and again.

Each time, it returned the cries of the metal beneath. Each note a different story. As he listened to them, Welf wondered how long it had been since he first picked up the hammer. He stared at the lump of metal in his hands, which his diligent efforts were slowly working into the shape of a longsword.

He was working at one of the forges owned by his familia, a small solo workshop nestled amid the backstreets of Orario. This was his silent battle—a one-man war waged against the metal in his hands all through the long night.

Here, the War Game had already begun. To keep Bell safe and lead his team to victory, Welf needed to work faster and harder than he’d ever worked in his life. Off to one side were the items he’d already completed for Bell—the knife Ushiwakamaru-Nishiki and a new and improved set of Rabbit Armor, created at astonishing speed thanks to Welf’s talent. What he was working on now was something Lady Hestia had asked him for and something Welf himself was determined to create—a magic sword.

Despite his bandana, the lethal heat of the forge drew dribbles of sweat from Welf’s brow, and the sparks that flew with each hammer swing either scorched his clothes or seared his flesh. The scowl on his face was something no monster or living opponent had ever seen.

I know it’s too late for you to forgive me. All I ask is that you save my friend.

Crozzo magic swords were world-famous for being mighty weapons. As Welf used his family’s techniques to create one, he battled the inner turmoil in his mind.

The light of the forge was not the only illumination in the workshop. The lump of metal sitting atop the anvil was shrouded in a maelstrom of faint lights, all of which seemed to sink into the blade like it was a whirlpool. This always happened whenever Welf activated his skill. The weapon itself was calling to him, thirsty for his blood, conjuring spirits out of thin air that swirled around Welf’s hammer to be hammered into his work. Welf’s hands were also cloaked in a crimson glow now due to the Blacksmith ability he had recently acquired.

Eventually, the hammer’s song came to an end, and Welf looked down at his creation, which was glowing with light.

“Your name…is Shirahime,” he said.

Welf put very little effort into the names of his magic swords. He didn’t want to grow too attached to something fated to be shattered in battle, and so he considered it nothing more than a parting gift.

He placed the finished sword next to the other one he had made that night. It hadn’t been his intent, but due to the fast pace, the two swords had turned out to be sisters.

Hokage, the fiery shadow, and Shirahime, the princess of lightning. Their blades glowed crimson and purple, respectively, in the predawn gloom.