Nozomanu Fushi no Boukensha (LN) - Volume 13 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Report and a Request from a Blacksmith

“I’d like to report a completed job,” I said. “Is now a good time?”

Having returned to Maalt, I found myself across from Sheila at the Guild’s reception.

“Of course,” she said. “Let’s see, the job you took was... Ah, the one from Crask Village. Since you’re back, I assume that there weren’t any issues?”

“Well...that’s the thing...”

The job was definitely finished—that much was certain. However, a lot of things had happened that were pretty out of the ordinary. It would probably be best if I explained.

“Did something happen?” Sheila asked. Her time working for the Guild had apparently made her perceptive enough to pick up on my tone. She didn’t seem unduly worried either.

“Well, the Crask Village job was to slay five or so skeletons that had shown up in the village. That part went smoothly enough.”

“There was more to it?”

“Yeah. There were five skeletons wandering around, sure, but then I found more. After looking into it, I figured out that they weren’t random stray monsters, but there was actually a source producing skeletons near Crask.”

“Many adventurers would have asked for the job to be called off there—but I take it you didn’t, did you, Rentt?”

Sheila had said “many,” but my estimate was that it would be a little more than half—mostly the Bronze-class parties for whom anything more than five skeletons could be a real threat.

With an active spawning point, someone strong enough to have a shot at stopping it—even a group of Bronze-classers in the upper ranks would do—generally wouldn’t cancel the job. And not because they were being reckless or overestimated themselves, but because monster spawners were dangerous phenomena that needed to be cleaned up as quickly as possible. If left for several months, in a worst-case scenario we’d suddenly have several hundred skeletons on our hands. That rarely happened, of course, but it wasn’t impossible.

That meant about half of all adventurers would continue with the job—though renegotiating the pay and conditions was possible, naturally.

“Yeah, I kept going with it,” I explained. “And just as I figured, I found a skeleton spawner. I purified it with holy water, though, so it shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

“I see. And in regard to the increased commission fee...?”

“I spoke about it with the headman. Since the village was torn up pretty badly, I turned the offer down. I did get my food and board for free, though, as well as a number of rare ingredients and plants from the villagers, so...not a bad deal, all in all.”

“Is that so? Well, given what happened, the Guild might have had to take measures if you had received no additional pay or compensation at all—but if you’re satisfied, Rentt, then I’m sure there’ll be no issues. Incidentally, what rare plants did you receive?”

I’d been surprised when Rivul had brought it up while we were eating, but apparently lutedd herbs grew in the vicinity of the village. Lutedd herbs were extremely rare and could be sold for a lot in the royal capital because they were vital to the powering mechanisms of small machinery.

Honestly, if I went through the proper channels to sell them, I’d make much more than the commission fee for the Crask Village job. Since they had supplied me with a decent amount of the herbs, I was comfortably in the black—and that’s also why I was being vague with Sheila about them.

Her eyes sent a clear message, though: I know that by “rare,” you actually mean “extremely rare,” so fess up. We’d known each other for a long time, and Sheila was familiar with the type of person I was...

Well, it wasn’t like it was a huge secret or anything. I had told Rivul and the others about the prices lutedd herbs could fetch. If they managed it well, those herbs would become a profitable venture for their village. I had tried to be vague about it in my report, figuring that it would be better to keep it hidden until the villagers had a better handle on their production...but now that we were at this point, it was probably better to ask for cooperation rather than trying to hide it.

“There are several areas near the village where lutedd herbs grow,” I explained. “They gave me a few bundles, so there’s no issue with compensation.”

“Lutedd herbs?! It’s never anything minor with you, is it, Rentt? Lutedd herbs are terribly difficult to cultivate and generally can’t be cultivated in mass quantities outside of their natural habitats. It was you who taught me that, actually.”

“I was surprised too. That’s why being out here on the frontier is so much fun—making discoveries like that at the drop of a hat. I explained how much they were worth to the villagers, as well as the ways I knew how to cultivate them, so they’ll probably circulate into Maalt before long. I know a traveling merchant stops by Crask regularly, so...”

According to Rivul, they regularly got a traveling merchant who stocked up on Crask’s specialties to sell in Maalt, so the lutedd herbs would probably take the same route. I had given the headman a thorough explanation of their worth so they wouldn’t get shorted. Their village had a profitable future in store for them.

Sheila cocked her head. “A traveling merchant who goes to Crask? That’s strange. There are records of one who regularly made the trip, but that was over a decade ago. As far as I’m aware, Crask only gets merchants who happen to be passing through the area, not any regulars. I’ll check with the Merchant’s Guild, but...”

“Hmm? But they said that they did... They also said that the merchant was generally fair with prices, though they never seemed to want anything specific.”

“Is that so? Then maybe it’s just an oversight in the records. Still, I’ll look into it. Now, about the skeleton spawner...”

◆◇◆◇◆

“Right, about that,” I said. “It spawned a skeleton knight.”

“What?! Were you okay?!” Sheila’s eyes flew open in surprise, but as she thought about it, she gradually appeared to calm down, muttering to herself. “Well, of course you were, since you’re here to speak about it, but...” She looked at me, practically begging for more of an explanation.

“Yeah, I am, as you can see. If I had fought it in the past without any help, I’d have been dead in a snap, but it looks like I’ve come a long way. I beat it.”

“Really?” Sheila’s incredulity was only natural; she was well aware of how strong the old me had been.

I retrieved my spoils of war from my magic bag. “Look, here’s the skeleton knight’s magic crystal. Though, I think it’s a little bigger than an ordinary one...”

I set the magic crystal on the receptionist’s counter. It was large, red, and clearly of a higher quality than the magic crystals of bottom-feeder monsters.

“You’re right—it’s slightly on the larger side. I know magic crystals can vary depending on the individual monster, but I haven’t seen one this large before. Perhaps that’s just a testament to my lack of experience, though.”

“You think so too? I knew it. I’ve seen a lot of average ones, and this seemed a bit different. In that case, I guess it really was a stronger specimen.”

At the very least, I could discard the possibility that it had been a weak example of a skeleton knight. If it had been weak and I’d had all that trouble against it, then that was a sign that the Silver-class Ascension Exam would be dangerous for me, and I should probably skip it this time around.

“Mmm. It’s definitely larger than average, so the skeleton knight must have been a match for a lower ranked Silver-classer, at the very least,” Sheila said. “Of course, appraisal isn’t my area of expertise, so I can’t say for sure.”

“No, just knowing that is enough. I was on the verge of losing confidence in myself.”

“Again? Why?”

“The skeleton knight was pretty strong. I won’t say I went at it with everything I’ve got, but I definitely couldn’t have won without taking it seriously. I had a villager with me as a guide, so I was able to stay on my toes and come out of the fight unscathed, but things might’ve gotten bad if I’d gone in with my usual easygoing attitude.”

“Was it really that strong? Undead in Yaaran tend to be weaker than in other countries—though I don’t know why—so specimens like that are rare here. I wonder if there was some anomaly or other reason for it... I’ll have to look into this thoroughly. There’s the matter of the lutedd herbs too, so perhaps it would be good to gather a team of experts and dispatch a survey team. Thank you for the information, Rentt.”

“No problem. It’d be great if you could do that—it’d mean less to worry about for me down the line.”

Even though I’d purified the source of the skeletons, there had been aspects of the job that had felt off, though I couldn’t clearly say what they were. I’d finished and returned to Maalt, but I wasn’t confident that something else wouldn’t happen, so it would be nice if someone looked into it.

Sheila must have followed my line of thought, because she shot me a knowing look. “Is that why you were so willing to tell me about the lutedd herbs? A girl really can’t let her guard down around you, Rentt.”

“It’s not that big a deal, is it? Nobody’s losing out.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. But I do feel like you played me like a fiddle.”

“Come on. I’m not capable of something like that.”

“I’m not sure I believe you...but like you said, nobody’s losing out, so I suppose it’s fine. Is that the end of your report?”

“Yeah. I’ve already got the pay and everything too, so I’ll be heading out. See you, Sheila.”

“You too, Rentt. Until next—Oh, I almost forgot. Rentt!”

Just before I could leave, Sheila hurriedly called after me. I turned around. “Was there something else?”

“Not from the Guild. Clope left me a message to pass on to you, though.”

“Clope? The blacksmith?”

“Yes, he came right after you left on the Crask Village job, so you must’ve just missed him.”

“I guess that’s my bad. What did he want?”

“He wanted you to drop by his shop when you got back. Apparently, he’s got a job for you that he’s going to put through the Guild.”

“Oh, so that’s why he left the message with you. I wonder what he wants, though. He could’ve just let me know directly.”

Although most adventurers took commissions through the Guild’s system, there was no law against hiring them directly.

There wasn’t anything wrong with it from an ethical standpoint either. It happened all the time, and whenever Clope wanted materials, it was common for him to just hire me directly.

The advantage of a direct commission was that it was both cheaper for the client and more profitable for the adventurer. Clope had frequently made requests of me out of sympathy, since back then I hadn’t made much in the way of earnings. These days, though, it wasn’t really necessary.

Another point worth considering, however, was that commissions that didn’t go through the Guild didn’t count toward earning the points necessary for rising in rank. However, back then, Clope’s commissions were better for me because stacking tiny commissions at the Guild never made for many points anyway, and I probably wouldn’t have been able to earn enough to reach Silver-class in the first place.

Now, though, I had earned the right to take the Silver-class Ascension Exam—and in terms of earnings, I was making enough to get by even with the Guild’s middleman fee. It was better for me to take Guild commissions these days, to earn points that would count even after I became Silver-class. That was probably why Clope wanted to hire me through the Guild.

Still, I felt like something was unusual here. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t take my own instincts lightly. I guess I’d find out.

“Got it,” I said. “I’ll drop by his place later, then. If there’s nothing else, then see you, Sheila.”

“See you, Rentt.”

Thus, I departed the Guild.

◆◇◆◇◆

“I’m ba— Oh.”

“Hmm? Oh, there you are, Rentt.”

I hadn’t actually expected anyone to answer as I stepped through the doorway of Lorraine’s house, but evidently she just happened to be passing by.

“Perfect timing,” I said. “Here, I brought you a souvenir.”

“Did you now? It’s not some strange countryside delicacy again, is it? I suppose I have been feeling more adventurous about that kind of thing recently...”

“No, check it out.” I took the cup I’d picked up at the skeleton spawner near Crask Village out of my magic bag and handed it to her.

Lorraine examined it inquisitively. “A...cup? It’s in pretty bad shape for a gift.”

My shoulders slumped. “Hey, I have eyes too. I wouldn’t have brought it to you if it was just a dirty old cup.”

“I know, I know.” Lorraine smiled. “I was just joking. Why did you bring it to me, though?”

“I’m getting to that part. Let’s sit down—this’ll take a while.”

“Yeah? Set your things down, then. I’ll brew some tea.”

◆◇◆◇◆

“Oh ho. Sounds like you had a rough time of it.” Lorraine sipped at her black tea. “And to think the original commission was only to deal with a handful of skeletons.”

I’d just given her the abridged version of how the job had gone, as well as how I’d gotten my hands on the cup.

“I wasn’t expecting it either. The possibility of a skeleton spawner, sure, but the skeleton knight blindsided me.”

“They’re certainly a rarity. You were more likely to find that the skeletons numbered several dozen or more, but from what you told me that wasn’t the case...”

Lorraine was referring to the tendency seen in groups of monsters where, as their numbers increased, so did the likelihood that stronger individual specimens would spawn. In large packs of goblins, for example, a goblin general or goblin king often appeared to lead them. To a greater or lesser extent, this tendency applied to all monsters.

The Demon Lords were said to be the apex example of this. They were considered capable of wiping out entire countries not just because of their individual strength, but because they commanded vast and mighty legions of subordinates too.

However, nobody had ever borne witness to a Demon Lord’s birth—or at least, anyone who had never made it into the history books.

Whatever the case, this tendency meant that the presence of a strong individual monster inevitably meant that there was a group of weaker ones nearby. What made the Crask Village incident unusual was that it hadn’t met those conditions. Still, that was all it was: unusual. It wasn’t outright impossible.

“The spawning location was way at the back of a cave, after all,” I said. “Malice built up easily there, so maybe that’s our explanation. I remember it feeling pretty thick in the air...”

“You’re right—it could’ve just been the right place for that sort of thing from a geographical standpoint. They say that’s one of the reasons powerful monsters manifest in the deepest levels of a dungeon.” It wasn’t the only reason, naturally. Another major contributing factor was the Existential Evolution that arose from monsters fighting each other and becoming stronger.

Monsters were beings shrouded in mystery, and the study of them was a volatile field where today’s accepted knowledge could be tomorrow’s disproven nonsense. Of course, that was why it had such a strong pull on people like Lorraine, who found such research exhilarating.

“At any rate, I dispersed the malice, so it shouldn’t be a problem for a while,” I continued. “Plus, the Guild’s putting together a survey team. They might be able to dig up more information.”

“Oh? I should request that they keep me in the loop, then. But about this cup—you said it was buried near the spawner... Wait, did you bring it to me because you think it has something to do with what happened?” Lorraine looked at me with eyes full of expectation.

I shook my head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but not really. It’s just that there were so many things that felt off about the whole situation that I felt it best to do a close inspection of whatever I could get my hands on. I didn’t sense anything suspicious about it beyond that. Given where I found it, though, it could be a treasure of some kind. It’d be nice if I could sell it for a bit of coin.”

“You just want a regular appraisal job, then? And here I was getting my hopes up. You’re right, though—there’s nothing suspicious about its appearance. Doesn’t seem to be a cursed item either.”

“So it’s just some old cup after all?”

“I can’t say for sure yet...but I can tell you it’s more than just a simple cup. Bare minimum, you can at least channel mana through it. Its structure doesn’t seem too unorthodox...but there are a few strange parts that I want to examine more closely. I don’t think I’ve seen anything of similar make before.”

“Why did you say it wasn’t suspicious, then?”

“I’m sure you’re aware that people find magical items with unique compositions in dungeons all the time. Most of it turns out to be meaningless junk, and there’s a good chance that’s exactly what this cup is too. Still, it’s worth examining. Understanding how pointless junk is made can come in handy when crafting other magical items.”

In short, the cup was promising enough that it would satisfy Lorraine’s hobby interest.

“So, it’s a good enough souvenir?”

“Plenty. I’ll be able to kill a decent amount of time looking over it.”

“That’s good. Sounds like it was worth carrying all this way.”

“I’d be happy to take these kinds of souvenirs any time you find one.” Lorraine placed the cup on the table. “By the way, have you wrapped up your work for today?”

“No, I need to stop by Clope’s place.”

“Hmm? Didn’t you just go the other day to pick up that sword? You didn’t break it, did you?”

“If I’d broken it already, Clope would probably bawl his eyes out. No, he called for me. I don’t know the details, but apparently he’s got a job lined up.”

“Oh? You just got back from one job and you’re already getting personal requests for more. Business is thriving, I see.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that. What if he just wants me to gather some goblin loincloths?”

“I really doubt that’s the case...”

Lorraine was frowning, but I knew it wasn’t impossible. Despite appearances, Clope could be just as prone to eccentricity as she was.

“He’s asked me for similar things before, so I wouldn’t say it’s not in the cards. Whatever the case, I’ll be stopping by to find out.”

“All right. I should be able to finish my examination of the cup while you’re out.”

“That fast?”

Lorraine paused for a moment. “Well...if I’m not done by then, I’m counting on you to make dinner, Rentt.”

“So that’s what you’re after. Sure—I’ll do some grocery shopping on my way back.”

◆◇◆◇◆

True to form, the Three-Pronged Harpoon smithy and store was sweltering inside. After being welcomed by Luka, I called out in the direction of the forge in the back.

“Clope. Clope! You there?!”

“Yeah! Hold on a sec!”

Clope’s reply was so loud that it would’ve sounded angry to anyone unfamiliar with him. It wasn’t that he was in a bad mood or anything; it was just necessary to be heard over the sound of hammering.

Still, it was pretty rare for him to respond. Usually, once he started working, it was impossible to get his attention.

I discovered the reason for this after Clope reached a stopping point and came out.

“Oh, Rentt,” he said. “That was fast. Sorry for calling you out as soon as you got back from a job.”

“It’s fine—I don’t mind. Is that the sword you were working on just now?”

There was a sword in Clope’s hand. Not just a freshly hammered blade either, but one that had been cooled and sharpened. No wonder he’d kept me waiting for a while. That alone told me that his passion for blacksmithing hadn’t wavered a bit, but still, his expression was clouded.

“Yeah,” Clope said. “It’s... Well, take a look.”

I took the sword from him and examined it. “A mass-produced blade? And no offense, but this work isn’t quite up to your usual standards, Clope.”

It was plain to see that he’d purposefully made the sword from average materials, aiming for an everyday level of strength and durability—but even so, the make was poor. It was still much better than what other blacksmiths could accomplish, but even Clope’s mass-produced blades were usually two grades above this. Strange.

“Can’t get anything past your eyes, can I?” Clope said. “You’re right, that blade’s a write-off. Can’t sell something like that.”

The sword was good enough that it’d still attract some buyers, but Clope’s pride probably wouldn’t let him put it up for sale in the shop. That aside, it seemed there was a reason his work wasn’t up to scratch.

“You heard me when I called out to you in the middle of smithing. I’m guessing you weren’t really into it.”

“Yeah. Just can’t get in the right mindset. After you’ve lived enough years, all sorts of bothersome thoughts start getting into your head while smithing. It’s distracting.”

“I take it something happened?”

“Mmm. Come into the back and I’ll tell you about the job I have for you. It’s a bit of a long story.”

◆◇◆◇◆

After following Clope into the back, we sat at a table. His wife Luka brought us tea, but hurried out to the store instead of joining us.

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” I asked. I could tell from how Luka had given us space.

Clope smiled wryly. “I feel bad, making her feel like she needs to treat me like I’m so fragile... Objectively speaking, this isn’t a big deal. Bit of a tricky issue for me personally, though. Hear me out?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll start with the job. I’ve gotta go to Welfia, the mining city, so I’d like to hire you on as a bodyguard. You’re taking the Silver-class Ascension Exam there, right? I figured it’d line up well.”

“Really? You’re going to Welfia? Actually, I guess you are a blacksmith, so it’s not that unusual. Regarding the job, if the schedule works out so that I can still make it in time for the exam, I’d be happy to accept. Otherwise, I’m afraid I can’t.”

As you’d expect from a place known as “the mining city,” Welfia had ties to blacksmiths that went way back. Since it was a production center for many varieties of ore used to make weapons and armor, it had a high population of blacksmiths. Row after row of smithies lined the streets, and it was said that if you wanted the best quality arms and armor in all of Yaaran, Welfia was the place to go.

That being the case, there was actually nothing unusual about Clope making the trip. Any number of reasons quickly sprang to mind, like procuring materials or meeting a professional acquaintance. It was also possible that he was heading there to acquire some kind of new skill.

“Schedule-wise, arriving in Welfia anytime before the Silver-class Ascension Exam is fine,” Clope said. “That’s the same for you, right? Should be no problem.”

“In that case, sure...but why are you going?”

“There’s going to be a blacksmithing contest in Welfia, and I have to compete.”

“Ah. Come to think of it, it’s the right time of year for that. Wouldn’t have expected it of you, though. You’d definitely make a good showing with your skills, but you’ve always said that if you had the time for such things, you’d rather be honing your craft instead.”

I doubted that Clope had never participated in a contest, but at the very least, he’d never done so in the time I’d known him—not to my knowledge, anyway. Clope’s skill would all but guarantee a high placing, which would drum up more business as commissions for arms and armor rolled in. Placing well in a blacksmithing contest basically functioned as one big advertisement.

You’d think that would be a good enough reason to participate, but Clope was an old-fashioned craftsman: he wanted to attract customers with the quality of his creations rather than publicity.

Given that, I was surprised he was even talking about competing.

“I never thought I’d be participating in one either—not after all this time. The truth is...I’ve competed once before, a long time ago.”

“In Welfia’s blacksmithing contest?”

“Yeah, when I was young. By the time I met Luka—though technically it was our second meeting—I’d already left Welfia to become a traveling blacksmith. But it was in one of the city’s workshops that I learned the basics of the trade, so I’m familiar with the contest. I watched it every year as an apprentice, when I still wasn’t good enough to take part myself.”

I hadn’t known that Clope had lived in Welfia—he didn’t talk much about his past. It made a lot of sense, though. In Yaaran, many blacksmiths hailed from Welfia. It was the capital of their trade, so perhaps it was only obvious.

Still, Clope had a different air about him than your usual Welfia blacksmith, so I was a little surprised. Maybe that was just a result of the time he’d spent wandering after he left the city.

“But you’re practicing your trade in Maalt now,” I noted. “You didn’t want to stay in Welfia?”

If a blacksmith wanted the best possible environment for honing their craft, there was nowhere better in Yaaran than Welfia—hence my question.

Clope shook his head. “I couldn’t stay. I ran. That’s how I became a wandering blacksmith in the first place.”

◆◇◆◇◆

“You ran...?” I asked, puzzled.

“When I was a little brat in Welfia, I told myself I’d become a blacksmith,” Clope said. “Do you know why?”

That wasn’t an easy question to answer. Everyone had different reasons for the dreams they’d decided to chase. I was no exception. If I told people I was aiming to be a Mithril-class adventurer, most would ask why.

It was natural for adventurers to want to improve, so everyone was capable of understanding the sentiment. Mithril-class, though, was usually considered an impossible objective. The majority of adventurers who talked about aiming for it weren’t being serious. That was why it stood out to people when they discovered I’d set that as a firm goal—normally, nobody would seriously be chasing after something like that.

If not for what I’d gone through as a kid, I might’ve walked a different path in life. Maybe Clope had something like that in his past too.

I didn’t know, though, so I shook my head. “No. I’ve never asked you, have I? From the first day we met, it always felt natural to assume you just loved blacksmithing and wanted to dedicate yourself wholly to it—like it was a given thing, and you needed no other reason. I guess that’s why I never asked.”

Clope’s mouth twisted into a slight smile. “Me being a blacksmith is just natural, huh? You sure know how to cheer a guy up. You’re not wrong—now, at any rate. It was a different story in the past.”

“Did you not like smithing back then?”

“That’s not it, although... Well, I began my training seeing the whole thing as just a job. Once a person’s old enough to work, they’ve gotta pick a trade and earn their keep, don’t they? It just so happened that for me, it was blacksmithing.”

“That’s a surprise. I kind of always thought you’d come out of the womb with a hammer and anvil.” I was joking, of course.

Clope laughed. “I don’t think that’s possible, even for someone like me. This isn’t some storybook tale.”

He’d said that, but the world was a big enough place that it wouldn’t have been truly impossible. There were babies out there that genuinely were born holding something, like a ring or an orb. Nobody really knew why such things happened, but those babies always grew up to achieve great things. Clope had mentioned storybook tales, but the reason those tales existed in the first place was because of individuals like that.

“I suppose not... Still, even if that was why you began, blacksmithing’s your passion now, right? To the point you take it too far sometimes. Even Maalt has its share of blacksmiths who only treat it as a job, but you’re not like them.”

I didn’t think ordinary blacksmiths like that were a bad thing. If anything, they were the normal ones. Not everybody could pour all their passion into every piece of work they made. Imagine if a housewife purchased a pot from them to make hodgepodge stews, and it turned out to be a masterpiece with no equal in the world. Maybe a royal chef would need something like that, but most people wouldn’t even be able to bring themselves to use it. The world needed craftsmen who cut just the right corners and churned out mass-produced goods.

Clope wasn’t capable of that, though. Each of his creations was like his very own child—that was how he could pour everything he had into making them the best they could be. It was why there wasn’t a single piece he’d cut corners on, even among the smallest knives on display in his store. Their prices still varied, though, depending on the materials used, time spent, and the differences in quality that naturally arose from being handcrafted.

“While I might have started blacksmithing just to put food on the table, I soon found out how fascinating it was. Before long, I had completely fallen in love. It was probably as perfect a fit for me as you could find.”

“You can say that again.”

“Yeah? You think so too, huh? Still...”

“Still?”

“There was a time when I thought I wasn’t cut out for this job.”

I supposed no matter what job you worked, there were times when those kinds of thoughts popped into your head. They had for me, with adventuring—not just once or twice. But each time, I managed to cheer myself up and shake those thoughts off. Had Clope been able to as well? Curious, I asked him.

“How’d you overcome it, Clope?”

My question had been lighthearted, but the answer I received was heavy.

“I didn’t. That’s why I left Welfia.”

A few moments of silence passed. “But you’re still a blacksmith to this day, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. In the end, it was a good thing that I left.”

I cocked my head. “What do you...?”

“In this world of ours, every field has its geniuses, right?” Clope said.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure why he had suddenly changed the topic, but then a vague idea of why occurred to me. I nodded along. “Yeah. Every field, adventurers included. Actually, adventuring work’s filled with them. I can’t count the number of times someone has picked up their Iron-class license, and then I blink and they’ve already caught up and surpassed me.”

That happened in every field to people like me who weren’t blessed with talent. One day you’re teaching somebody, then the next they’re leaving you behind, running far ahead. That repeating cycle had filled up the last ten years of my life.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. I... Well, I was a little cocky, once. Thought I was one of those talented people. I learned and got better faster than those who’d started at the same time as me. I pulled ahead, going further and further. There was a time I thought I’d be able to go somewhere nobody else would be able to follow.”

◆◇◆◇◆

“You outdid the others, but still ended up thinking you weren’t cut out to be a blacksmith?” I asked.

Clope nodded. “Strictly speaking, though, there was another who outdid everyone else right along with me: Hazara Feyvro, an apprentice who joined the workshop at the same time as me. We honed our skills against each other’s.”

“Yeah? So you and this Hazara person were rivals?”

You needed people like that, no matter what you pursued—having them close by would hasten your improvement by leaps and bounds. The drive to beat them served as the fuel for continued effort.

“We were. Rivals...and best friends. We competed over who’d learn new techniques faster, point out each other’s shortcomings, test out interesting new creations... I had so much fun back then. Every day, I was making progress.”

No matter what pursuit it was, the period where you saw all the possibilities spreading out before you was exhilarating. It had been the same for me when I’d started learning swordsmanship and magic—a feeling close to omnipotence. Of course, it hadn’t lasted long in my case, since my talent had plateaued rather quickly. Clope must have held on to that feeling for a long time, though. But if he had, then why had he...?

“With someone like that close by, what reason could you have had to leave Welfia?”

“I didn’t have one—at least, not at the time. But then, one day, the head smith summoned Hazara and me. We were almost skilled enough to strike out on our own then, so we were excited. We thought he was finally recognizing us as fully-fledged blacksmiths.”

There was a spark in Clope’s eyes, like he was recalling the exact moment and it was making his heart race in excitement. However, the spark quickly faded, replaced by something murky. I could guess why.

“But he wasn’t, was he?” I said.

“Not quite, no. Instead, he told Hazara and me that the Welfia blacksmithing contest would be held soon, and that we were to compete. He said that the winner would inherit the workshop one day.”

“That’s...”

“I was blindsided. The head smith wasn’t old enough to be retiring yet, you see. He knew that, of course, which was why he talked about it like it was a long way off—but even so, he wanted to see which one of us was better, which of us was more suited to take his place. We turned him down because we thought we were unworthy—he had so many other apprentices around. But he told us they’d all already given him the okay. That we were head and shoulders above the rest—even above himself. After hearing that, how could we say no? Besides...”

“Yeah?”

“More than the prospect of becoming the head smith, Hazara and I were thrilled at the chance to compete in the blacksmithing contest.”

“I couldn’t recite the rules to you, but it’s not that hard to gain entry, is it?”

Blacksmithing contests were outside my field of expertise, so I didn’t know for sure, but how they generally worked was common knowledge. Broadly speaking, blacksmiths with less than ten years of experience competed separately from those who had more, and then they were split into more categories depending on what they were asked to make.

“No, you’re right—it’s not that hard,” Clope explained. “It’s divided up by experience, but as long as you’re a blacksmith, basically all you need to do is apply. However, apprentices at a workshop like Hazara and I needed the permission of the head smith, and he’d never given it—not once. A handful of our peers had gotten it, but...”

“Hmm... Maybe he didn’t want to spoil his talented apprentices by letting them compete? He probably knew you’d place pretty well, so he didn’t want you developing a big ego that would get in the way of your growth.”

“That’s my guess too. Most of the others he gave permission to were diligent, serious types. Skill aside, they were the kind of people who’d be able to accept the result—win or lose—with a firm nod and keep on putting in the steady effort they always had. Me, though... Well, the head smith’s judgment was on the mark.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t anything complicated. We competed in the contest. Hazara won, I lost. That’s all.”

“That must have been...”

It must have been frustrating, to say the least. Your rival, who was exactly as talented and hardworking as you were, had taken a step beyond your reach. I’d never had a rival like that, but I could imagine how it felt. Clope’s reply, however, took me by surprise.

“I wasn’t frustrated. In fact, Hazara’s victory was so decisive that it only made me realize I’d never be as good a blacksmith.”

“Why...? You weren’t that far apart in skill, were you?”

“That’s what I thought too, but that moment made me realize we were fundamentally different. Before the contest, we both worked hard in our own ways. We avoided each other’s work areas and didn’t tell each other about what we would make or how, because we were rivals. We wanted to settle it on the day of the contest.”

I could understand how Clope had felt. It must have been a terrifying time, but also a fun one.

“And...?”

“Like I said, it was settled. I lost, clear as day, with no room for doubt. Hazara made a magic sword. A brat not even a decade into blacksmithing made a magic sword. That was the victory, then and there. I got second place, sure, but all I’d made was an ordinary blade. I poured every scrap of knowledge and skill I had at the time into it, of course, but a magic sword? That’s when I realized Hazara was a genius. For the longest time, I thought we’d been growing together, but I began to wonder if I was just holding my rival back. Slowing down Hazara’s growth. I thought maybe that was why, as soon as we started training on our own, such a huge gap opened between us.”

◆◇◆◇◆

“Sometimes, people’s talents awaken out of nowhere,” I said. “Maybe that was the case for Hazara. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have caught up, Clope.”

At the very least, they seemed to have been equally capable up until the blacksmithing contest. Even if Hazara had made some kind of breakthrough and pulled ahead, that didn’t mean the same couldn’t happen to Clope.

“I know that now,” Clope said. “Even if I die before the chance comes, believing that it will and working hard is what gives birth to the possibility. Give up, and it’s all over. Deciding that blacksmithing is my life’s calling means I have to keep forging ahead, even if I experience nothing but defeat.”

“Then...”

“But that’s now. Back then, that was beyond me. The loss made me depressed and desperate. After the contest, I couldn’t focus on my smithing, which made my master, the other apprentices—even Hazara—worry. In the end, I ran away from Welfia. I didn’t think I could be a blacksmith in that city anymore.”

“So that’s how you became a wandering one instead?”

“Yeah. Though, in the beginning, I couldn’t bear to practice my trade, so I hopped between odd jobs. Turns out I’m a blacksmith down to my core, though. I began to yearn for it, and before I knew it, I was diving back in again. I borrowed open forges and helped repair pots and kitchen knives, moving to the next town once I’d saved some money. I did that for a while, but couldn’t stay anywhere. Settling down just made me sink into my thoughts again—only traveling helped me to forget.”

So even though he’d left Welfia, the wounds hadn’t been so easily healed.

“But you’ve settled into Maalt as a blacksmith, haven’t you?”

“Mmm. I owe that to Luka.”

“Your childhood friend, right?”

“Yeah, though she doesn’t remember.”

“She doesn’t remember?”

“I’ve told you before about how we got married, right? When we met while I was still a wandering blacksmith?”

“Yeah, I vaguely recall the story.”

“Well, it was true. She comes from a wealthy merchant family. I was contracted by their business’s blacksmith to help with the cookware they sold, and that was how we got acquainted. After that...a lot happened, and she practically strong-armed me into marriage. In the end, she overwhelmed me, and here we are.”

“I feel like you’re skipping over a lot there... I believe it, though. It seems like you’d need at least that much effort to convince a guy like you to get married.”

“Hey—you saying I’m stubborn?”

“That’s not it—it’s just that I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you say you had no interest in women at all, and that blacksmithing was your only love.”

“You’re not...totally wrong. There were bigger problems getting in our way at the time, though.”

“Like?”

“I was nothing but a wandering blacksmith, and her family were wealthy merchants. They couldn’t let their daughter marry a guy like me, and I didn’t have the means to take on that much responsibility and provide for her properly either.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, that was a good point. Clope didn’t seem like the type who would consider that kind of thing, but evidently even he had the common sense to think that through carefully.

“But you got married in the end, didn’t you?”

“Sure. I just...couldn’t find it in me to turn her down.”

“You really are a pushover, huh?”

“Like hell I am! It’s just, when it comes to Luka...I’ve never been able to say no. Maybe it’s because I still remember when we were small. Regardless of what I look like now, I was a pretty frail kid.”

“That’s surprising.” Clope was sturdily built and looked tough enough to do smithing work in any environment.

“It was when I was really young. Because of my constitution, I spent about half a year up in the highlands, where the air was cleaner.”

“Were you born to a rich family or something?”

“Now wouldn’t that have been nice. No, it wasn’t a mansion or anything like that. I went to a clinic that also happened to be a church—like a sanatorium that took in frail kids. It was expensive, sure, but not so much that a commoner family couldn’t afford it.”

I’d heard about those kinds of places. They were usually institutions that acted as schools, orphanages, and clinics all at once. Typically located in remote places far from cities, the clean air, stable ambient mana, and infrequent monster sightings. Monasteries or churches were often built side by side with such places, lowering the cost of staying there—though in exchange, boarders were strongly encouraged to live a religious lifestyle. In essence, it was missionary work.

“Anyway, it was while I was staying there that I met Luka,” Clope continued. “She wasn’t sick or anything, though—just staying in a holiday house to escape the summer heat back home.”

“So she really was born into a rich family...”

“Pretty much. Places like that don’t usually have kids running around outside of the sanatorium itself, though. That was probably why she came by so often. At first, she was just tagging along when her old man and other members of her household came to the church side of the building a lot to pray or make donations, but then she started coming by herself more and more. She even started sticking her nose into my business all the time, and, well...”

“That must’ve been a lot for a frail kid to handle.”

“Eh. It wasn’t like I had a serious disease or anything—I was just on the weaker side. Living in the city saw me cooped up in bed a lot, but I was full of energy at the sanatorium. I guess Luka realized it, and that was why she targeted me. She probably figured that even though it was too risky to drag the others around too much, I’d be fine.”

“I guess she had a good nose for sniffing things out...”

“She’s still got those uncanny animal instincts, you know. In any case, she quickly had me wrapped around her little finger... Good times.”

“But she doesn’t remember it?”

“Yeah. I recognized who she was when we met again, but I kept quiet—I didn’t want to stir up the hornet’s nest, you know? As you can see, though, she still caught me in the end...”

◆◇◆◇◆

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m grateful for her,” I said.

Clope cocked his head. “Why’s that?”

“If she hadn’t done what she did, you never would’ve set up in Maalt as a blacksmith, right? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Back when I’d been human, I could’ve just patronized other blacksmiths and been fine. My skills weren’t anything worth bragging about, so as far as weapons went, I just needed your standard fare.

Now, though? I needed a weapon that fit my unique circumstances, built through trial and error. And would I even have been able to find a blacksmith willing to accept me and make weapons for me in the first place, given what I was?

In that sense, I had to thank Luka. Clope too, of course.

I hadn’t said it aloud, but Clope seemed to figure it out anyway, because he nodded. “I guess so. But from that perspective, I should thank Luka too. If I hadn’t settled in Maalt, I never would’ve met a guy as interesting as you.”

“Sounds like we’re in the same boat, then.”

“I guess we are.”

We shared a laugh.

“Anyway, a lot’s happened, but that’s how I came to be a blacksmith in this town,” Clope continued. “Oh, actually—I haven’t told you the reason we picked Maalt, have I?”

“You haven’t, now that you mention it. Why did you? Surely a bigger city would’ve been the better choice.” It definitely would’ve been more convenient in a lot of ways.

“That’s true...” Clope admitted. “But when I was thinking of where we should settle down after we got married, I definitely didn’t want to be near Welfia, and I figured if I set up in any of the larger towns or cities I’d run into somebody I knew. I ended up picking Maalt because it was a frontier town, and that came with a lot of benefits. It helped that the constant stream of monsters meant a consistent demand for weapons, so I knew I’d probably do good business.”

That was a pretty practical reason—but I guess you had to think like that when putting down roots and building a home. When you were single and even your death wouldn’t inconvenience anybody, you could do whatever you pleased, but once you were married, you had to think about the future.

It was why I admired couples like Clope and Luka, but also found it difficult to believe the day would ever come when I’d have what they had. If I ever married...somebody, I’d be wracked with guilt worrying that I’d suddenly die and leave them behind one day.

That was when it occurred to me—as I was now, it was pretty hard for me to die. Even if I was hit with a blow lethal enough to instantly kill most people, I could still recover to a certain extent. Given that, maybe building a home would actually be possible...?

Nah, probably not. For starters, my body was undead. Who’d want a husband whose body wasn’t even human?

Like I thought, the first thing I had to do was regain my humanity. Existential Evolution was probably the key to that, but things hadn’t been going well in that regard recently. I was working hard to get stronger, but it was going to take a lot more than that. I needed to slay monsters and absorb their strength, and then on top of that I needed some kind of “impetus.” I hadn’t needed that much of one to go from skeleton to ghoul, but I got the feeling the requirements were going to get more demanding. Human flesh, vampire’s blood...what would I need next? I had no idea.

On the other hand, perhaps those things were only necessary for such large jumps in progress, and otherwise I could do it without them—it would just be slower.

It was uncommon for monsters to go through Existential Evolution, and even more rare for monsters of higher orders to do it—and yet I’d made several leaps in a short time frame. The obvious conclusion was that I’d fulfilled some conditions that had made it much easier for me to go through Existential Evolution than ordinary monsters, and it was possible that one of those conditions was that I’d ingested human flesh and vampire blood.

Whatever the case, all I could do was keep fumbling forward. I hadn’t plateaued yet. I’d seek out Existential Evolution, and one day...I would regain my humanity.

Now, back to my conversation with Clope...

“So after a number of twists and turns, you settled down in Maalt,” I said. “Why do you have to participate in the blacksmithing contest now, after all this time?”

“I...got a letter. Here.”

Clope handed me a letter written on coarse paper, and I began to read.

◆◇◆◇◆

It’s been a while, Clope. Do you still remember me?

What am I saying? You couldn’t possibly have forgotten the master who drilled the fundamentals of blacksmithing into you. I’m hoping you didn’t, anyway, which is why I’m writing this letter.

Now that I think back, how many years has it been since you left my workshop? I can still clearly recall the day you first showed up, a snot-nosed kid with a twinkle in your eye...as well as what you looked like as you grew into your own and became a fully-fledged blacksmith. That’s why, when you left...

Ah, but look at me, getting sentimental in my old age. I didn’t write this letter to reminisce on the old days. I’ll get straight to the point, then.

Will you come to Welfia and participate in the next blacksmithing contest? It’s the same one you competed in all those years ago.

I know you’re still a blacksmith—and a damn good one too. I want to see your skills. I mentioned earlier, but I’m getting old. Retirement’s on the horizon for me, but before I hang up my hammer, I want to see your smithing again one more time. Will you grant an old man his wish?

Ah, I should mention that Hazara will be participating too. Hazara’s the deputy head smith of the workshop these days, though I’ve been the inferior blacksmith for a long time now. This contest will also serve as my final test to see whether I can entrust the workshop to your old rival.

I’m sorry to dredge up old memories, but you’re both grown adults now. Am I wrong to think that you can come together and wash away my regrets?

Please.

But, well...if you don’t feel like it, then that’s that, I guess.

I’ve got high hopes for you.

Yours,

Barzel Staro

◆◇◆◇◆

“So...”

“The way I see it, he’s telling me to come to terms with my past. It’s his way of showing he cares. I can’t not go, right?”