Death March kara Hajimaru Isekai Kyusoukyoku (LN) - Volume 5 - Chapter 2

The Home of the Dwarves 

Satou here. Sometime in junior high, I learned that there were different kinds of dwarves than the ones I saw in picture books as a kid. I remember being surprised to read that female dwarves had beards. 

Five days after we left Muno City, we finally reached the fork in the road that branched off toward Bolehart City. 

Not only was our party large, but the mountainous region at the border of the territory was quite difficult to traverse, so it took longer than I’d expected. 

Monsters attacked us a few times over the course of our journey, but the soldiers and knights traveling in front of us took care of them each time, so we never had to battle for ourselves. 

“Well, here we are. I hope we meet again in the old capital.” 

“Indeed. If you go to the old capital, please do visit the Tenion Temple.” 

At the crossroads, we bade farewell to Miss Sara and company—or rather, we exchanged a promise to meet again. 

“S-Sa… Sir Pendragon. Are you certain there’s no way you might accompany me to the old capital?” Lady Karina gazed at me like an abandoned kitten. 

As usual, she seemed to be too embarrassed to call me by my first name. 

“I’m sorry, Lady Karina. I am duty bound to deliver Miss Nina’s letter to Bolehart City.” 

I depended on my “Poker Face” skill to keep my expression from faltering as I apologized. 

I couldn’t tell her that I was too excited to see dwarves to go with her. 

“Hee-hee. You seem to be quite close to Sir Pendragon, Lady Karina.” 

Miss Sara might be a priestess, but she was still a girl, too. Evidently this meant she had a fondness for romance, as she was watching us with an amused smile. 

It was a misunderstanding, of course, but I didn’t have the heart to… 

“I—I have no such r-relationship with this person, I’ll have you know!” 

“Oh? Denying it so fervently is rather insulting, is it not?” 

Miss Sara’s smile only deepened at Miss Karina’s desperate denial. 

…All right, I guess I should help her out. 

“Lady Sara… Lady Karina is quite innocent at heart, so please don’t tease her any further.” 

“Hee-hee, I suppose you’re right.” Miss Sara accepted my suggestion easily enough and returned to the original subject. “We will be waiting in the riverbed city of Gururian for a few days, so if your business is brief enough, Sir Pendragon, perhaps we will meet again there.” 

“Then I shall have to put our cart horses to work and bring that to fruition.” 

I didn’t think it would actually be possible, given our itinerary, but I responded diplomatically just in case. 

To be honest, though, I didn’t really want to work our horses too hard. 

We shouldn’t keep blocking the road, so we parted ways with Sara and her party and journeyed toward Bolehart. 

We’d acquired a new four-horse carriage for the journey. 

Since this doubled our horses while lightening the weight of the carriage itself, we were able to travel an extra 30 percent or so per day with our newfound speed and endurance. 

Thanks to the shock absorber I’d made with earth and stones on the journey to Muno Barony, as well as the new cushions, the journey had become considerably more comfortable. 

In addition, I’d installed a mechanism to quickly transform the seats into beds. 

And two additional horses accompanied us at all times, usually ridden by the armored Liza and Nana. 

This was intended to fend off thieves. I had spotted more than a few bandits when I was surveying the Ougoch Duchy with a handmade hang glider before we departed, so we needed to make the proper precautions. 

It would be easy enough to defeat them, but taking care of what came next was much more involved than just beating monsters, so I wanted to avoid that if at all possible. 

I opened the door that connected the carriage to the coachman’s stand and spoke to Lulu. 

“Lulu, let me take over for you.” 

“That won’t do, master. You’re a noble now, so you must leave the coach driving to your servants.” 

True enough. I could still see the soldiers from Miss Sara’s group behind us. 

I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal if they saw me driving, but Lulu seemed to be enjoying herself. I gave up for the time being. 

“All right. But may I sit beside you, at least?” 

“Yes, of course!” 

Lulu shifted to one side, then patted the seat next to her in an exceptionally cute gesture. 

I thanked her as I sat down and looked around. 

Fresh green leaves were beginning to bud all around, bringing the first signs of spring to the Ougoch Duchy. 

In this world, Ritual Magic could affect the change of the seasons using City Cores, so I wasn’t sure how much the conventional wisdom of Japan applied here. 

Still, though, any weather that let you steer a carriage without freezing half to death was welcome in my book. 

“There you are, you big flirt.” 

Arisa popped out to join us, latching onto me and making a deadpan joke. Naturally, she chose to squeeze herself between Lulu and me. 

“Arisa, you’re such a green-eyed monster sometimes.” Lulu smiled and patted the other girl’s hair. 

Then, Tama and Pochi shoved their way in, crushing Arisa. 

“Geh!” 

“Flirtiiiing?” 

“That’s forbidden, sir.” 

The two of them seemed happy that it was just our little group again. 

“Forbidden.” 

Mia, who had started riding on Nana’s horse with her a while back, puffed out her cheeks and prodded me lightly with her staff. 

“Master, please look ahead, I suggest.” 

Nana pointed forward, drawing my attention to the path before us. 

When I followed her gaze, I saw that Liza had dismounted a short ways down the road and was crouching next to a brown lump on the shoulder. 

According to the AR display, it was a large wild boar. 

Most likely, it had tried to attack Liza and was soundly defeated for its troubles. 

“I guess we’ll have boar hot pot tonight.” 

“Yaaay, hot pooot!” 

“We’ll help break it down, sir!” 

I opened my map to see if there were any sources of water nearby. 

“Liza, there’s a village a little ways away, so perhaps you can find out if we can use some water there.” 

“Yes, master!” 

I took a long stick and a rope from the Garage Bag and handed it to Liza to transport the wild boar. 

The Garage Bag was a Magic Item that could hold much more than its appearance suggested. 

I’d recently acquired a lesser one, which was currently the saddlebag of Liza’s horse. It was primarily used to store Liza’s magic spear. 

That evening, we butchered the wild boar and shared some of the meat with the villagers, then parked the horse-drawn carriage in the village square to spend the night. 

As soon as he found out I was a noble, the village chief offered to let us stay in his home; I didn’t want to trouble him with so many guests, so I politely declined. 

Two days after our stay at the village, seven total after leaving the Muno capital, we arrived at Bolehart City. 

The self-governed area was a blank spot on the Ougoch Duchy map, so I used my “Search Entire Map” skill for the first time in a long while to gain information about it. 

A dwarf city might call to mind an underground society, but according to my newfound information, at least half of them lived aboveground normally in a fortress city. The other half, more in line with my imagination, lived in the mines connected to the city. 

At only twelve miles in diameter, including several mountains, the dwarf territory wasn’t very large. 

There was one city and several villages within the Bolehart dominion. The city’s population was about 60 percent dwarves, 20 percent ratfolk, 10 percent rabbitfolk, and the last 10 percent were mostly humans and miscellaneous demi-humans. 

Unlike the other cities I’d seen so far, there were hardly any slaves or serfs. 

The only slaves who showed up in my map search were owned by merchants visiting from outside the city. The traders were all humanfolk or weaselfolk, mostly the former. 

The only fairyfolk besides the dwarves were a handful of gnomes and spriggans; there were no elves at all. Maybe the old fantasy trope of enmity between elves and dwarves was true? 

Absentmindedly, I filtered my map search. 

When I searched by level, there were a little more than ten people who had reached at least level 40. They were all dwarves. The highest level was an elderly dwarf called Dohal, who was level 51. 

Dwarves overall averaged at level 7 or so, so these people were probably exceptions. 

I also checked to be sure that there were no demons, reincarnations, or anything of the sort. Like in the Ougoch Duchy, I found none. 

As a bonus, there were no members of the demon lord–worshipping Wings of Freedom, either. We should be able to sightsee normally here for once. 

As I was checking the map, the landscape around us changed. The number of tall trees decreased, while there were more bushes and reddish-brown thickets. 

“Mine pollution, perhaps?” Arisa murmured as she looked out the window. 

“You think so? I’ve never been close to a mine before, so I have no idea.” 

I had been sightseeing in an abandoned mine before, but I’d never visited one that was still in use. 

Instead, Mia answered Arisa’s question. 

“Mrrrr? Spirits.” She made an X over her mouth with her fingers. 

“It’s because of spirits, you mean?” 

“No. No spirits.” 

“They’re withering because there are no spirits, then?” 

“Mm.” Mia nodded, satisfied. 

Well, that’s fantasy logic if I’ve ever heard it. 

“Mana shortage,” the elf added, and Arisa nodded rapidly. 

With her sage expression still on her face, she turned toward me. “…Master, explain?” 

I gave a light chop to Arisa’s forehead before obliging. 

“As I understand, spirits convey mana to everything in the natural world. I don’t know what effect it has on plants, but I think there’s an adverse effect if they don’t get enough.” 

I’d obtained this information from Trazayuya’s journals in the Cradle incident. 

According to the documents, mana affected not only living and non-living things but also phenomena. This probably included natural phenomena like wind currents and temperature changes. 

“Huh. Have you ever seen a spirit, master?” 

Arisa’s question drew to mind the youthful image of a dryad. 

“Well, we’ve seen a dryad, remember? She was a tree sprite, so that makes her a spirit, right?” 

“No.” Mia shook her head. 

“So…not a spirit?” 

“Mm.” She nodded. 

I didn’t really understand the difference, but Mia was a kind of fairyfolk and all. She would know better than I would. 

I’d probably have to get an adult elf to explain it to me when we brought Mia to Bolenan Forest. 

Shelving that line of thought for now, I answered Arisa’s original question. “Well, if dryads aren’t spirits, then I guess I’ve never seen one. You probably need a skill like Mia’s ‘Spirit Vision’ to see them.” 

Arisa nodded, then twisted around toward Mia. 

“Mia, what do spirits look like?” 

“Pretty.” 

“Well, that’s not much to go on.” 

“Mrrrr.” Mia scrunched up her eyebrows and thought a moment. “Glowy pearls. Fluffy. Nice.” 

Her usual one- or two-word statements didn’t suffice this time, so she strung together a longer explanation for once. 

“Hmm! I’d like to see one for myself, then.” 

“Me too.” 

Arisa murmured enviously, and I nodded in agreement. 

I’d certainly like to meet a graceful undine or a free-spirited sylph sometime. Preferably of the sexy mature-woman variety. 

“Mrrrr.” 

“You’re drooling, master!” 

Without thinking, I automatically pressed a hand to my face at Arisa’s words, causing her to exclaim, “I knew it!” and cling to me to prevent me from “cheating.” Mia began doing the same. 

“Cheeeater?” 

“Cheetah, sir!” 

Tama and Pochi had been dozing off until the fuss woke them up, and they started imitating Arisa and Mia, first hugging and then climbing all over me. 

I patted the young girls’ heads in a vague attempt at reassurance. All the noise made Lulu poke her head in through the door to the coachman’s box. “Looks like you’re all getting along swimmingly,” she remarked with a giggle. 

“Master, there’s a great deal of smoke up ahead.” 

Just then, Liza, who’d brought her horse close to the carriage, reported to me with some anxiety. 

The map didn’t show me anything out of the ordinary going on in Bolehart City. 

“Don’t worry. It’s just fumes from smelting iron.” 

“I-is that so? I apologize for disturbing you.” 

I assured Liza not to worry about it, put the children back in their seats, and headed up to the coachman’s stand. 

After a while, the trees thinned out, and we entered into a wasteland of stones and bare soil. 

Beyond this wasteland, I could see a fortress city that appeared to be carved into a gray mountain, belching white smoke from an array of chimneys. 

Similar hazy streams billowed out from several openings in the side of the mountain. 

Though we arrived in the afternoon, there was a long line waiting for entry at the gates of Bolehart City. 

We stopped our carriage at the back and waited for our turn. 

“Looks like there are maybe twenty carts in front of us? We might be waiting quite a while.” 

“Seems that way.” 

Arisa clambered over me in the coachman’s stand to size up the line. 

Looking closely, I noticed that many of the carts had the same canopy design. We must have arrived right after some merchant party. 

Sensing someone behind me, I turned to see Pochi and Tama enviously staring at Arisa. With little else to do, I let them ride piggyback on my shoulders, one at a time. 

Before long, I felt a tug on my sleeve. Mia was waiting for her turn, too. 

“Next.” 

Unlike Tama and Pochi, Mia was wearing a skirt, so I lifted her by the waist instead. 

“Not fair.” 

She must have wanted to ride on my shoulders, too. 

“It’s only because of your skirt. If you were wearing shorts, I’d put you on my shoulders, too.” 

“Mrrrr.” 

Mia puffed out her cheeks and went inside the carriage just to change clothes, so I held true to my word and gave her a piggyback ride. 

“Tama, Pochi, stand at the back of the carriage and keep watch for thieves.” 

Bringing her horse up alongside the carriage, Liza gave instructions to Tama and Pochi, who were staring around wide-eyed from the coachman’s seat. 

“Aye-aye, siiir!” 

“Roger, sir!” 

With a sharp salute, Tama and Pochi hopped down from the coachman’s stand and rushed to the back of the carriage. 

Once her instructions were fulfilled, Liza turned toward me. 

“Master, it appears that weasels visit this town. They are a cunning tribe, so please be careful.” 

“All right, got it. Thanks, Liza.” 

If I remember correctly, the weaselfolk are the race that destroyed Liza’s village. 

“Nana.” 

After climbing down from my shoulders, Mia beckoned to Nana. 

“Ride.” 

“Master, I will transfer horse operation duties to Mia, I report. Permission to do so?” 

“Sure. Don’t go too far, though, all right?” 

“Mm.” 

Mia hopped in front of Nana and took the reins, turning the horse toward the front gate. She probably wanted to check the situation at the front of the line. 

As Mia and Nana left, they passed a group of approaching peddlers. 

“Mister, won’t ya buy some potatoes? They’re right tasty.” 

A woman with an unusual dialect selling boiled potatoes was the first to arrive. One potato cost one copper. This was three times the price that my “Estimation” skill suggested. 

“Mister, ferget them potatoes. I got chicken skewers here. They use lots o’ rock salt from Bole’art! Only three coppers apiece.” 

“Master, don’tcha want some real meat? These whole-roasted toads’ll fill ya right up. Nice an’ chewy.” 

Maybe I was just being prejudiced, but the weaselfolk sounded shady to me. 

The smell wasn’t bad, but the appearance of the toad put off my appetite, so I declined. 

Seeing this from the back of the carriage, Tama and Pochi looked a little disappointed, but we’d just eaten lunch a little while earlier. Eating too much is bad for your health, you know. 

As we waited our turn, more peddlers, including more weaselfolk, ratfolk, and rabbitfolk children, accosted us, selling things like sandals and rope. However, we didn’t need any of it, so I just checked their prices with “Estimation” and didn’t buy anything. 

After a while, Nana and Mia came back with a purchase they’d made near the front. 

Both of them were wearing flower crowns atop their heads. As a bonus, Mia had something sticking out of her mouth. 

“Satou.” 

Mia took out the long, stemlike object from her mouth and offered the end to me, so I gave it a taste. 

…It was sweet. Sweet and somehow nostalgic. 

It brought back childhood memories of picking azaleas from the side of the road and sucking up the nectar. 

Unlike the sugarcane-y taste of the thorn licorice pulp that I often gave the kids as a snack, this stem had a gentle sweetness like the nectar of a flower. 

“Ah!” 

“That was an indirect kiss, wasn’t it?! That’s it, I’m going next!” 

Lulu gave a small exclamation of reproach from my side and Arisa a much louder one from behind me. 

Indirect kisses? Come on, we’re not in junior high— Wait, I guess Lulu is around that age. 

Arisa extended her arm, but Mia snatched the stem before the lilac-haired girl could reach it. Sticking it back in her mouth, Mia held up two fingers in a victory sign. 

Arisa muttered darkly behind me. I wished Mia would stop provoking her. Even Lulu was looking a little teary-eyed. 

Luckily, a weaselfolk child came by just then to sell stems like the one Mia was chewing on, so I bought enough for everyone and distributed them. 

They wanted me to put the stems in my mouth first for whatever reason, but I decided to just go along with the strange request. 

“Ach, coachman! Does this carriage belong to a noble or what?” 

“Or is it a merchant? Hey, coachman!” 

I heard gruff voices shouting, but I didn’t see anyone. 

“Right here, coachman.” 

“That’s right. Down here, y’see.” 

I lowered my gaze and found two short and stout dwarves, only a little more than four feet tall. 

They were wearing gleaming black iron helmets and chain mail, carrying not axes but short spears. 

Underneath their triangular helmets, I saw beady eyes, hooked noses, and long beards down to their stomachs. This was indeed the kind of dwarf I often saw in games. 

I used “Poker Face” to mask my welling excitement and got down from the carriage to answer their questions. 

“Nice to meet you, Sir Dwarves. I am Satou Pendragon, a hereditary knight of Muno Barony.” 

When I used my “Etiquette” skill to politely introduce myself, the dwarves hurriedly struck their fists against their chests and straightened up. 

“S-so terribly sorry. We di’n’ realize ye were a noble, ach…” 

“Mighty strange noble at that, to be sittin’ on the coachman’s stand, y’see.” 

I found their manner of speaking to be rather strange, but I remained polite as I asked, “So, what business did you have with me?” 

“We came to say that if ye be a noble, ye needn’t wait in line, ach.” 

“Yes, nobles don’t need to wait in line, y’see.” 

With that, the dwarves led us past the line and into the city. 

As it happened, nobles could get preferential treatment in any city, not just Bolehart. This even included the lowest title of hereditary knight, like me. 

Even inside, they only checked my identity, making no effort to examine my companions. They took a quick glance inside the carriage—no searches or entrance tax. 

Seemed to me that a sneaky noble would have no trouble smuggling. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Pendragon. I’ve received the letter from Viscount Lottel. Is the brave lady doing well?” 

“Yes, she’s ruling with great enthusiasm. And please feel free to call me Satou, if you’d like.” 

I was visiting the city hall to chat with the mayor, Mr. Dorial. 

The other children were relaxing in a separate room, except for Arisa, who was beside me. Miss Nina had asked her to take care of something. 

She almost sounded like a different person as she addressed Mr. Dorial. 

“If it pleases you, Master Dorial, we would like to formally request your gracious acceptance of exchange students from the Muno territory to study abroad here, as is written in that letter.” 

“Hmm. Viscount Lottel did look out for me when I was studying abroad in the old capital, so I’m sure we can accept a few exchange students each year.” 

Mr. Dorial opened the letter as he answered. I’d learned the lord of this dominion was his father, Mr. Dohal, not Mr. Dorial himself, so I had to wonder if he could really make promises like that. 

Perhaps sensing my trepidation, Mr. Dorial went on. 

“Worry not. My father entrusts me with all but the most important matters.” 

Oh, good. There was nothing to worry about, then. Personally, the possibility of leaked information seemed pretty important to me, but maybe their stance was along the lines of “If you want to steal our technology, go ahead and try”? 

“The letter states that you might be interested in blacksmithing and such, Mr. Satou. Would you like to visit the public workshops and refining facilities?” 

“Yes, please!” 

Wow, what a godsend. 

Deep in my heart, I showered Miss Nina with gratitude. I would have to write her a thank-you letter later. 

“This is the biggest blast furnace in the city.” 

Before me was a building with a ceiling height of about sixty feet. 

The only people here were Mr. Dorial, a female dwarf who was acting as his secretary, and me. The female dwarf, named Jojorie, was Mr. Dorial’s daughter. 

Instead of the cutesy little girls who often represent female dwarves in recent games, she was basically just a beardless version of a male dwarf. 

Meanwhile, Arisa had gone off to the commercial district of the city. She declared that she was going to look for a merchant to deliver the response to Muno City. 

Jojorie opened the heavy-looking door, releasing a blast of hot air. 

The inside of the building was a single large room, like a mill or a factory, with a great number of men hard at work. They seemed to be shoveling black lumps into the hole at the center. 

“That there is the top of the furnace.” 

…The top? 

I was doubtful at first, but checking the map resolved my confusion. 

The main body of the blast furnace was in the basement of this building, and the black lumps the men were tossing in appeared to be fuel and iron ore. 

“Does it use coal?” 

“The fuel is transmuted from monster cores and coal to create something called ‘refined monster coal.’ It’s got more heating power than ordinary coal, and using monster cores for the fuel is more cost-efficient than running a magic furnace.” 

As I listened to Jojorie’s explanation, I searched through Trazayuya’s documents and found the recipe for this special fuel. It might be more prevalent than I expected. 

“It’s too hot in here. Let’s do our explanations elsewhere.” 

Mr. Dorial urged us over to an observation area, where the heat was a little milder. According to Mr. Dorial, an insulation spell protected it. 

From here, I could fully visualize the blast furnace. 

The room was cut in half down the middle, and the far side served as a sort of well that went about two hundred feet underground. 

On the lower floor, a large group of shirtless dwarves and beastfolk was hard at work. 

Occasionally, red-hot metal would flow out of the furnace, illuminating the dark underground section. 

“This is quite a facility you have here.” 

“Yes, thirty percent of the iron used in the duchy is refined here.” 

I wasn’t just acting impressed to be polite. The technology was different, of course, but this facility was on the same level as the ironworks I’d seen in my old world. 

“The smoke is purified when it passes through that pipe there. The inside of the pipe is lined with a catalyst transmuted from water stones and wind stones, which cleans away the soot from the smoke without needing any additional magic power supply.” 

I see. It probably keeps the overhead lower than using Magic Items or magic to purify it. 

Moving on, I also got to tour a rotary kiln and a roller. The latter used a huge magical furnace that was some kind of magic tool, as far as I could tell. This furnace required magic to run, as evidenced by the men stumbling around in robes like sorcerers on the verge of exhausting their magic. 

“That seems to be quite a difficult endeavor.” 

“Indeed. We would normally have more hands on the job, but gnomes are currently visiting home, so we’re short on people.” 

As I nodded along to Jojorie’s explanation, my heart went out to the men working overtime due to the staff shortage. 

Hearing heavy footsteps, I turned to find a group of little giants around ten feet tall carrying finished bars of iron and steel. According to the information from the AR display, they were a different clan from the little giants we’d met in the Mountain-Tree Village. 

I was able to get a fairly thorough tour, but they hadn’t yet shown me the mithril-related facilities in the underground caverns. It was probably a highly classified part of Bolehart City. 

Unable to resist my curiosity, I decided to ask Mr. Dorial about it, just for kicks. 

“Are the mithril facilities underground, then?” 

“I-I’m surprised you knew about that. Did Viscount Lottel tell you, perhaps?” 

“No, it was just a hunch. Besides, I heard that this city’s mithril goods are the finest in the world, so I very much wanted to visit for myself if at all possible.” 

“Is that so…? I should like to allow it, then, but I would need my father’s permission for that.” 

Mr. Dorial crossed his short arms and furrowed his brow. Unable to watch her father fret any longer, Jojorie spoke up. 

“Father, why not simply talk to Grandfather? Surely even he would never command a total stranger to forge a sword or anything like that.” 

Jojorie, please don’t set up flags like that. 

“Hmph. Let’s see ye forge a sword. Then we’ll talk.” 

…Jojorie… 

I glanced over at her, but she quickly avoided my eyes. 

After squeezing through a narrow underground tunnel only a few feet high, we reached Elder Dohal’s workplace. In the back of the room, high-level dwarves were forging swords. 

They were all highly skilled. Each sword was higher in attack power, sharpness, durability, and other parameters than any you’d find on the street by more than half. 

And after I was introduced to him, he made the very request Jojorie had joked about. 

I sensed his eyes on the Silent Bell of Bolenan attached to my belt, but he said nothing about it. I presumed this Elvish treasure had no effect on him. 

“Father, Sir Satou is an acquaintance of Viscount Lottel…” 

“Hmm. Certainly we owe Nina a debt of gratitude, but that has nothing to do with this. Seeing someone forge a sword speaks volumes of their character. Zajuul, bring out a heated mithril ingot.” 

“Of course, master.” 

Mr. Dorial tried to intervene on my behalf, but Elder Dohal was hearing none of it. 

The brawny gray-bearded dwarf Zajuul prepared an ingot and the necessary tools for me. 

Well, I’d gotten to see someone working on a sword at a blacksmith in Muno City, so maybe I understood the process well enough to give it a shot. My “Smithing” skill was maxed out anyway, so it would probably be fine. 

I grasped the red-hot ingot with smithing tongs and placed it on the anvil. Then, steadying myself, I struck it with the mallet. 

A small spark flew through the air, and a shrill metallic clank echoed through the room. 

…Huh? Something felt wrong just now. 

Possibly sensing my hesitation, Elder Dohal took the tool from me and struck the ingot in the same way. 

After a single blow, he called Zajuul over and rapped him on the head with his knuckles. 

“How many decades have ye been working with mithril now, ye fool? I’ve said time and again that melting metal into an ingot is the foundation of smithing!” 

“Of course, master.” 

I didn’t quite understand what happened, but there must have been some problem with the ingot Zajuul prepared for me. 

Was that why I’d felt like something was a little off before? 

“All right, we’re going to the mithril furnace. Come with me, youngster.” 

“Certainly.” 

Guess Elder Dohal was going to take me there himself. I didn’t actually end up forging a sword, but I must have passed. 

Mr. Dorial and Jojorie followed behind me. Zajuul had already gone ahead, presumably to make some kind of preparations. 

I didn’t know what to expect from the furnace, but I was looking forward to it. 

Compared to the iron blast furnace I’d seen outside, the one for mithril was much smaller. It was probably only about a third of the size. 

Unlike the first one, it seemed to operate solely on magical power, so all that went into the hole in the top was mithril ore. 

The furnace, which wasn’t currently in use, was made of a red metal—according to the AR, the exceptionally heat-resistant scarlet ore. 

If I remembered correctly, the Japanese name for it was “hihiirokane,” a fantasy metal that appeared in Japanese mythology. 

This reminded me of the time I saw Shinto shrine–style archways in Seiryuu County or certain stories about heroes of the past. Why was there so much Japanese aesthetic mixed in with this fantasy world? Maybe it was just the effects of my translation skills, but it made me a little nervous. 

In front of the control panel for the furnace, Zajuul was shouting at several other dwarves. 

“Brother Zajuul… We only have poor-quality monster cores left, so we can’t produce enough heat.” 

“We need better quality cores or the magic furnace just won’t work, no matter how much we plug away at it, y’see.” 

“Och, if the gnomes were here, they could refill it from the emergency magic supply terminal there…” 

Exhausted, the dwarves were slumping to the ground as they explained the situation to Zajuul. It seemed to be a fuel quality issue. 

They looked miserable now, but everyone present was a fierce warrior of more than level 30. They all had the “Smithing” skill and some kind of magic skill. 

“You morons! The youth of Bolehart shouldn’t whine like this!” 

Zajuul was obviously a stick person, not a carrot person. 

“Lemme see your guts! We’re gonna work together to power up the supply terminal!” 

“Brother Zajuul?! A-all right, let’s do it, then!” 

“Och, will it really work with just us?” 

“We’ll round up all the bastards who are on break, too, o’ course!” 

They were going to make it work with sheer manpower. 

One of the engineers threw a pink core into the magic furnace and started it up. 

Then, with Zajuul leading the way, the group of ten men grabbed the “magic supply terminal” thing and started pushing magic into it. 

The crimson ore furnace took on a faint golden glow. 

However, they didn’t seem to be able to produce the magic fast enough, and the glow began flickering on and off. 

“Looks like you’re a bit short. Let me help out.” 

“If you’re helping, Father, then I will, too.” 

Even Elder Dohal and Mr. Dorial came to pitch in. 

Mr. Dorial was grinning and rolling up his sleeves, excited to get a piece of the action. 

I have enough MP to spare anyway, so I ought to help, too. 

“Sir Dohal, would you mind if I help as well?” 

“Just use a free terminal!” 

“M-master!” 

Elder Dohal easily granted me permission to help. 

Judging by the way Zajuul and the other dwarves gaped at him in disbelief, it was probably unusual for an outsider to be permitted to touch the equipment. 

I bowed to Elder Dohal and touched the crystal ball on the metal terminal. 

“All right, you lot! Breathe in time!” 

“““RIGHT!””” 

Elder Dohal and Zajuul alternately shouted “HEIGH!” and “HO!” to get a rhythm going. 

I almost lost it when I heard that signature phrase being shouted over and over, but I managed to keep a straight face. 

Trying to focus, I poured more magic power into the terminal. When I felt slight changes, I adjusted accordingly. 

At first, I put in only one point at a time out of fear of breaking the furnace, but it seemed to be able to handle a bit more. 

After a while, I felt a very slight sense that the flow of magic was being blocked. It was probably an effect of my “Magic-Tool Tuning” skill. Changing my title to Tuner while I was at it, I focused on cleaning the magical path for them. 

“HEIGH!” 

I added five points of magic to give an extra push to the current from the dwarves. 

That seemed to be enough to clear out the blockage in the magic flow. 

The flashing glow of the scarlet ore began to stabilize. 

“HO!” 

This time, I pushed in ten points of magic power. 

Along with it, I corrected a slight distortion in the route of the magic. 

Yeah, that’s better. 

The golden glow of the furnace grew. 

“It’s stabilizing! You can do it!” 

Jojorie’s cheer put the spark back in the dwarves’ eyes. 

Looks like men are weak to the cheers of beautiful women in any world. 

The furnace began to let off a shrill sound as the repeated shots of magic started to cross the threshold. 

“Now! Throw in the mithril ore!” 

“Right!” 

At Elder Dohal’s command, the dwarf who was waiting on standby near the furnace tossed in the ore. 

“Mithril blast furnace preparations complete!” 

“All hands, equip light protection gear!” 

Zajuul followed up Elder Dohal’s words with instructions to everyone else. 

Immediately, the dwarves all pulled out dark goggles from who-knows-where and put them on. 

Um, what? I don’t have anything like that, though?! 

“Here, Mr. Satou.” 

Jojorie came up behind me and affixed something like sunglasses to my face. 

“It’s a light shield. The glow of the furnace can hurt your eyes even when you’re wearing these, though, so please avoid looking directly at it.” 

“Thank you very much.” 

I nodded gratefully to Jojorie just as Elder Dohal made another declaration. 

“Mithril blast furnace, commence operation!” 

“Right!” 

One dwarf moved away from the magic supply terminal and gave the control panel a hearty smack. 

The reddish-gold glow around the furnace gathered at the bottom, creating dazzling rings of light that floated upward rhythmically. 

It was a beautiful sight. 

The next moment, my eyes were overwhelmed. 

I must have been unconsciously using the “Night Vision” skill, rendering the protection of the light shield fairly useless, and the excessive brightness fried my retinas. 

Manipulating the menu that floated over my completely dark field of vision, I discovered that my status now read Blind. 

Luckily, my eyesight returned before I could start panicking about what to do. 

My “Self-Healing” must have automatically repaired my retinas. That’s a relief. 

> Skill Acquired: “Light Intensity Adjustment” 

> Skill Acquired: “Light Resistance” 

I got some weird robot-sounding skills in the process, so I maxed them out with skill points and activated them before my eyes could get burned out again. 

Then, as I gazed at the now moderate light of the mithril blast furnace, I heard Elder Dohal yelling at his crew. 

“Come on, you lot! The work’s not over yet! Keep the magical pressure going!” 

“““RIGHT!””” 

Apparently, I chose a poor time for the glow to distract me. 

I joined the dwarves in supplying more magic power. 

By the end, I’d poured in about three hundred points, but my MP recovery was fast enough that I could’ve kept going indefinitely. 

The dwarves, on the other hand, seemed to be pushing themselves too hard and dropped one after another from overwork. 

Eventually, the only two left standing aside from me were Elder Dohal and Zajuul. 

“Look at you, human! Seems I misjudged ya!” 

Zajuul chuckled heartily and smacked my shoulder with a thick palm. 

With my high VIT stat, I was fine, but it probably would’ve knocked a normal human flat on the ground. 

“Thanks for your help, Mr. Satou. Are you thirsty? You too, Mr. Zajuul.” 

I took a gulp of the liquid Jojorie offered me. 

Immediately, I felt alcohol burning my throat and caught the refreshing scent of rice wine in my nostrils. 

I nearly choked with surprise, but somehow I kept it together. 

“…Is this alcohol?” 

“Distilled rice wine from the city, yes. It won’t get you drunk like strong spirits would, but it’s good for you to drink after working up a sweat.” 

Using highly alcoholic distilled liquor as a substitute for a sports drink…? I guess that’s typical for dwarves. 

“Zajuul!” 

“Yes! Master!” 

Zajuul pressed a button on the lower part of the furnace, and the door at the bottom opened, producing the freshly tempered mithril. 

Instead of a melted metal like iron, it produced about twenty solid ingots that looked like they weighed around ten pounds each. 

They were even in the proper shape already. There must have been a mold inside. 

Once they cooled, the completed ingots gleamed silver with a faint green finish. 

Hearing thudding sounds, I turned to see that a door on the side of the furnace had opened to discharge some blackish lumps. According to my AR display, it was mithril slag. 

…Clank. 

A metallic sound made me turn back around. There, I saw Elder Dohal hitting one of the ingots with a small hammer to check the sound. 

Then he pointed out a few that had met his standards, instructing Zajuul to bring them to the smithing area. 

“Come along, youngster. I’ll have ye hammer in turn with me.” 

“Master! A human child can’t keep up with your hammering!” 

“Silence, you! Don’t contradict my decisions!” 

I was going to be smithing with Elder Dohal. 

“Youngster! Ye’d best assume that ye won’t be sleeping till morning. Jojorie, we’ll need meat. We still have that smoked basilisk, do we not? Bring the whole thing here. We must fill our stomachs first.” 

So you can eat basilisk…? I had stowed away the corpse of the one I defeated before because its meat was poisonous, but maybe I should try to figure out how to remove the poison and cook it. 

Once we’d moved to the blacksmiths’ messroom and Jojorie had served us, I asked her to deliver a message and some food to Arisa and the others. 

We had already arranged to spend the night in the mayor’s guesthouse, so it shouldn’t be a problem. 

The whole process had taken such a long time that Mr. Dorial had already returned to his mayoral duties, leaving Jojorie behind. 

A huge lump of metal shook the floor with a thud. 

“What’s the matter, youngster? Is the giant smithing hammer giving you second thoughts?” 

Zajuul smirked and patted the handle of the enormous tool on the floor. 

It was basically just a huge unrefined lump of metal with a handle, and it looked like it could easily weigh a ton. 

According to the AR display, it was made with an alloy of iron and mithril. 

“A dwarf would be able to lift this with one hand, y’know. Put yer back into it!” 

The absurd size of it did intimidate me, despite Zajuul’s attempt at encouragement. 

Dwarves can lift this with one hand? They must be crazy strong. 

As if he could hear my admiration, Zajuul did indeed lift it up with one hand to demonstrate. 

I pretended not to notice that he was trying to impress Jojorie. I didn’t want to make a comment that might earn him another smack from Elder Dohal. 

Preparing myself, I put both hands on the handle of the giant hammer. 

Thanks to my absurdly high STR stat, I was able to lift it easily. If anything, keeping my balance was the hardest part, because my body was so light. 

I did my best to brace my legs and lower my center of gravity until it felt almost unnaturally steady. 

It was possible that my “Transport” skill made finding my balance easier despite the heavy load. 

While I practiced swinging the giant hammer, Elder Dohal peered into the pot his apprentices had brought. 

“It’s a little weak. Bring something stronger.” 

“Och, master, this is all we’ve got right now.” 

“Have Ganza formulate some more, then.” 

“Och, Ganza went back home to take care of some incident in Boleheim.” 

Guess the chemicals we were supposed to use for smithing didn’t meet Elder Dohal’s standards. 

As the person in charge of formulating them was away right now, it was a bit of a problem. 

If I’d known the recipe, I could formulate it instead, but I couldn’t imagine they would teach it to outsiders. 

“Jojorie! Go up to the surface and get me an alchemist. Anyone will do.” 

Those instructions were pretty vague…but if anyone would suffice, then maybe I could at least offer. 

“Lord Dohal, if you really do mean anyone, perhaps I could formulate it?” 

“Hmm? You do alchemy, too, do ye? It’s in your hands, then.” 

Elder Dohal’s swift decision seemed to agitate Zajuul and the other apprentices. 

However, none of them was able to say that to his face. 

One of the apprentices guided me to the alchemy area in the corner of the room. 

“I’ve only helped with formulation before, but…” 

According to the dwarf’s explanation, the pots were lined up in order of when they should be mixed in, and the assortment of tableware strewn around in front of the pots was used in place of scales to measure the material. It was pretty approximate. 

The contents of the jars were supposed to be a secret, but because of my “Analyze” skill and AR display, I could figure it out easily. 

The Transmutation Tablet used to finish up the job already had the proper settings in place, so I was able to master the Dwarf Elixir without much trouble. 

Checking over my creation, Elder Dohal nodded sagely. 

“Well made. Perhaps ye can take over for Ganza.” 

Elder Dohal didn’t sound like he was joking. 

He carried the pot containing the elixir into a room next to the smithing workshop. 

I figured this was a smithing room for his exclusive use. 

The room contained a small furnace made of scarlet ore and an anvil made of mithril alloy. 

“ ? Magic Pulse Connection Mamyaku Setsuzoku.” 

Elder Dohal’s words caused a golden-red flame to spring up in the melting furnace. 

As he spoke the incantation, the gold diadem around his forehead glowed, so he was probably using the power of a City Core granted exclusively to the lord of a territory. 

One of his apprentices arranged his smithing tools next to him. In the bucket for cooling was a liquid called Dwarf Water. 

Curious, I asked Zajuul about it, since he was standing nearby. 

“Is that water in there?” 

“It’s Dwarf Water, for cooling. Three parts oil and one part spirits. Even the mithril here likes liquor, y’see.” 

I think that last part was a joke, but other than that, he taught me the recipe easily enough. 

I was tempted to comment that it should be called Dwarf Oil not Water, but we were starting soon. I kept my mouth shut. 

“Master! Preparations are complete.” 

“Great. Then let’s begin.” 

The jealous gazes of the dwarves around us bore into me painfully. I supposed smithing along with Elder Dohal was a great honor. 

If you’ve got something to say, say it to Elder Dohal. 

I did my best to ignore the envy of those around me and focus on the task at hand. Getting to work with a master sword smith might well be a once in a lifetime chance, so I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. 

By the next morning, the sword was complete. 

I’d struck it so many times that I felt like I was in a trance. When I closed my eyes, I could still see the sparks flying on the backs of my eyelids. 

The Dwarf Elixir was used to heat the mithril in the melting furnace. With monster core powder as an ingredient, this was probably part of the key to the dwarves’ unique weapon-making methods. It seemed to be a different technique from the liquid used for making Magic Swords. 

For the final stage, I observed Elder Dohal’s precise work on only the finishing touches, but I still learned a lot from it. After this, I felt like I could make a famous sword myself. 

“I’m impressed ye finished it without needing someone to take yer place. If ye wish to study in earnest, yer always welcome here. Ye could even surpass me with a little time.” 

Elder Dohal clapped me on the back mightily. 

Oof. 

It hurt just as much as that tail attack from the greater hell demon in the Seiryuu City labyrinth. 

If he wasn’t careful, he might just kill someone with that someday. 

“I still have much left to do. Go on and eat without me.” 

With that, Elder Dohal went off somewhere with the completed sword. Once he had stepped out with Zajuul, the other dwarves promptly gathered around me. 

“Yer pretty good for a human!” 

“Darn right! Ye sure ye ain’t a dwarf wi’out a beard?” 

“I didn’t think anyone but Master Dohal could swing that giant hammer all night long, och!” 

“Yer welcome here anytime, y’hear!” 

All I really did was strike with the giant hammer until morning as Elder Dohal instructed, but by all appearances, I’d thoroughly impressed the dwarven blacksmiths. 

I was happy about that, although I could’ve done without the comment on my lack of a beard. 

If this body were the same as it was before, it’d be only another five or six years before I started growing one… Probably. 

Shaking off the beginnings of an inferiority complex, I headed to the messroom with the dwarves to have breakfast. 

As we left, I noticed Jojorie asleep in the corner of the room, so I woke her up and brought her along. 

Once I’d replenished my energy with a breakfast of meat and liquor, I was called into the hall in the basement. 

This was the atrium of the second level, and the ceiling was about fifteen feet high. 

“Give it a swing.” 

I accepted the mithril sword we’d made together through the night. 

Elder Dohal appeared to have added some hilt ornamentation that doubled as a grip. 

Now that it was completed, the weapon took the form of a double-edged bastard sword. It felt a little light in my hand; I judged that it weighed only about 70 percent of what a standard iron sword might weigh. 

The lightness made it easy to handle, but the power of a sword is directly correlated to its weight. I couldn’t imagine that being beneficial… 

But there’s probably a good reason for it, I thought as I tried taking a stance with it. 

Its balance was exquisite. It felt just as comfortable as if it were an extension of my hand. 

I gave it a light swing. That felt good. 

Next, I tried a little faster. 

A cheaper sword would feel some kind of air resistance, but this one was on par with a Holy Sword in that department. There was no resistance at all. 

Yeah. This was a good sword. 

“Now try putting some magic into it and swinging it,” Elder Dohal said in a deep voice, watching me test out our creation. 

Instead of using the rare skill “Spellblade,” I tried just pouring a bit of magic into it in the usual way. 

To start with, I put in about ten points. 

…Ohh. 

It passed through as easily as Liza’s spear. So this was the work of a dwarven master sword smith. 

Or perhaps it was the power of the mithril itself? 

Emerald-green streaks floated on the surface of the sword like ripples. This was a characteristic of high-quality mithril weapons. When I added more power, the ripples started to produce a red glow. 

Strangely, the more magic I put into the sword, the heavier it felt. After the first ten points, I thought I was imagining it, but now I could definitely tell a difference. Because it didn’t seem to have any kind of magic circuit when we were forging it, this must be a property of the mithril itself. 

I didn’t want to push it too far and break it, so I stopped adding magic after about fifty points. 

In this state, it felt almost twice as heavy as a normal sword of the same size. 

If that’s how mithril works, couldn’t they have made that giant hammer a little smaller? 

I asked about this later, but it turned out that making the hammer out of pure mithril and loading it up with magic could have an adverse effect on the mithril being worked on, which was why they used an alloy instead. 

“Indeed, fine handling. Let us have a bit of a bout.” 

With that, Elder Dohal took up a battle-ax and came forward. As soon as the battle-ax entered my line of sight, my “Sense Danger” skill reacted. 

According to the AR display, the weapon’s status read Cursed. 

So the elder’s favorite weapon was a cursed one for whatever reason. 

“Let’s begin!” 

I avoided Elder Dohal’s powerful first swing with a light backstep. 

After all, I didn’t want to block and end up damaging the sword we’d only just made, but… 

“What are ye scurryin’ around for, boy? Do ye think so poorly of my smithing that ye expect a few blows to damage that sword?!” 

…the act seemed to have injured Elder Dohal’s pride. 

“My apologies. Here I come, then.” 

After a shot of magic to my blade, I blocked the next heavy swing from Elder Dohal. 

“Yes, that’s it! Magic makes the mithril stronger.” 

Elder Dohal’s eyes glittered with enthusiasm. 

“Don’t stop supplying it, even in the midst of battle!” 

Elder Dohal’s fighting style was so outrageous that I could barely keep up. 

If I focused too much on attacks from the ax’s blade, he started aiming for my jaw with the butt of the handle. 

And once I started watching both ends of the battle-ax carefully, he came at me with wild attacks like head butts and front kicks, making it difficult to block everything with a single sword. 

I did my best to dodge and defend, but there were a few times when his attacks managed to graze me. 

I was quick to evade, but not only was he pulling attacks from an endless bag of tricks, he was steadily cutting off my escape options like a chess master. All his firsthand experience in real combat made him an incredible opponent. 

Eventually, the match ended in my defeat when he completely backed me into a corner. 

Handing off his battle-ax to Zajuul, Elder Dohal walked over to me. In spite of all that zipping around, he wasn’t even out of breath. 

What an incredibly tough old man. He’d stayed up all night forging a sword, then sparred with me for a good half hour. 

“Let me see the sword.” 

Once I handed it to him, he examined the blade, then swung it a few times to check something. 

“There’s not a single nick or distortion on the blade. You’ve a good arm.” 

At first, I thought he was singing his own praises, but he was complimenting my skill with the sword. 

“I do not wish to pry, but ye must be older than ye appear. Ye must have wielded a sword for at least ten or twenty years to have earned that skill.” 

Well, he was right that I didn’t look my age, at least. 

I had been doing my best to avoid revealing my high level via my actions, but he had seen through me. 

Elder Dohal gazed silently at the sword in his hands for a few moments. Then, coming to some kind of decision, he began chanting. 

“Hmm. ? Name Order Meimei! ‘Fairy Sword Trazayuya.’” 

…Trazayuya? 

I was so surprised that it nearly showed on my face. I was lucky that I had the “Poker Face” skill. 

“You know of Mr. Trazayuya, Lord Dohal?” 

“Indeed. Ye’ve heard of him as well, have ye? Long, long ago, I used to serve that wise man. This is the best sword I’ve made in all me life, so I thought to name it for the late sage.” 

So he used to work for Trazayuya? 

Though he didn’t shed a tear, Elder Dohal did close his eyes in a moment of deep silence. 

Then, opening them again, he wordlessly held out the fairy sword to me. Caught up in the moment as I was, I instinctively accepted it. 

“This sword could not have been made without you. I am certain it will accept ye as its owner, too. Use it well.” 

“…It would be my great honor to do so.” 

I responded reverently, and Elder Dohal broke into a huge smile. 

“Today is a good day! Let us drink to it! Bring a barrel of spirits!” 

Slinging an arm over my shoulders, Elder Dohal chuckled heartily and led me to sit on the waiting cushions. 

Zajuul carried a large barrel and set it down before us with a thud, and the merrymaking began. 

A transparent reddish liquid flowed from the barrel into silver bowl-like cups. 

“Drink up!” 

“…Thank you.” 

Holding it in my mouth for a moment, I could tell its alcohol content was high. Despite that, it had a good flavor and was easy to drink. If anything, it reminded me of the aged sake I drank in Okinawa long ago. 

Unlike the distilled spirits Jojorie had served us yesterday, this drink left a fiery heat in the bottom of my belly. 

“Gah-ha-ha-ha, you drink well, youngster!” 

“Ye show much promise, to drink raw spirits like that at such an age.” 

“The last human who drank it was that self-proclaimed master swordsman, and ’e choked half to death on it!” 

The other dwarves seated themselves around us and took swigs as well. 

Following suit, I drank one cup after another. The drink itself was delicious, but I found myself craving a snack to go with it. 

Due to my body having such high stats, I didn’t get drunk easily, and it didn’t last long. So if you asked me, delicious alcohol should always be paired with a delicious dish. 

I was sure they couldn’t have heard my inner thoughts, but before long, a group of dwarf women entered the room with plates full of sliced cheese and smoked meat. 

Soon there were other snacks, too, like nuts and salted dried fish, all perfect accompaniments for drinking. 

Not to be outdone, the other dwarf men aside from the elder left and returned with a great deal of barrels. It seemed that half of them were ale, while the other half were more spirits. 

“Oh-ho! Looks good!” 

“Don’t stuff yourself too much, now! Soon, we’ll be back with something from the grill, too!” 

The female dwarves scolded the men who jumped at the plates of food. 

“Master! There he is, everyone!” 

Hearing Arisa’s energetic voice, I turned to see my kids entering the banquet hall. 

“Masterrr?” 

“We missed you, sir!” 

“Satou.” 

It had been a full day now since they’d seen me, and the younger kids immediately pounced. They must have been a little lonely without me. 

“Master, the mayor invited us to the banquet, I report.” 

“Really? I’ll have to thank Mayor Dorial later, then.” 

“Master, it sounds as though you’ve been through a great deal. Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine, thanks. Sorry for worrying you.” 

“Master, we brought you a change of clothes.” 

“Thank you. I’ll change as soon as the banquet’s over.” 

Nana, Liza, and Lulu each spoke up in turn. So the older group was worried about me, too. 

At my request, the dwarf women prepared nonalcoholic fruit beverages for the children. 

A cry of joy rose from the hallway leading to the kitchen. 

“Everyone! They’re making some kind of special dish, they said!” 

“Meeeat?” 

“I don’t know this smell, sir!” 

Always burning with curiosity, Arisa dashed down the hall with Tama and Pochi. 

Liza stayed seated beside me, but she looked rather restless. 

She probably wanted to see the meat, too. 

“Sorry, Liza, but would you mind keeping an eye on the kids for me?” 

“O-of course! I shall return!” 

After flashing me a rare smile, Liza hurriedly recovered her stoic expression and just about sprinted away to look after the meat—that is, the children. 

“The rest of you can go, too, if you’d like?” 

“Perhaps I’ll help bring out the food, then.” 

“Master, for Lulu’s protection, I depart.” 

Both Lulu and Nana took me up on my offer, heading over to check out the unusual cuisine. 

“You don’t want to go, Mia?” 

“Mn.” 

Mia was leaning against my side, crunching away on a bowlful of nuts like an adorable little woodland creature. I figured nuts alone might be a bit lacking, so I added some dried fruits from Storage. This was a new creation of mine using wild cherries from the Mountain-Tree. 

“Oh-ho, aren’t ye the child of Bolenan Forest?” 

Noticing Mia, Elder Dohal called out to her with surprise. 

That said, he didn’t take the same tone of sacred reverence toward elves as the fairyfolk and little giants from the Mountain-Tree Village did. 

“I’d heard that ye went missing. Ran off with a human, did ye?” 

“Mm. Lovers.” 

That’s a bald-faced lie and you know it. Are you trying to ruin my reputation? 

“An evil sorcerer kidnapped her, so I rescued her. We’re taking her back to the forest now.” 

“Mrrrr.” 

Mia puffed out her cheeks sulkily. Guess she was hoping I’d play along. 

Of course, the culprit who kidnapped Mia during the Cradle incident was the Undead King Zen, not just some ordinary sorcerer, but I left that part out to avoid a lengthy explanation. 

“The Bolenan Senate did issue a notice requesting information on her whereabouts. Would ye mind if we send them a letter?” 

“That would be excellent, if it’s not too much trouble.” 

Evidently I was being small-minded when I assumed that elves and dwarves would be on bad terms. They seemed to get along just fine. 

At Elder Dohal’s request, Mayor Dorial arranged for the letter to be sent. 

They should have received a message from the Elvish shop manager of the general store in Seiryuu City, too, but the postal system in this world wasn’t as reliable as modern Japan’s, so it couldn’t hurt to send a backup. 

I petted Mia’s hair lightly as I chatted with the dwarf blacksmiths and other artisans. 

We had some very interesting conversations. However, since the topics mostly revolved around smithing and mining and such, I spent most of the time just listening. 

According to them, gnomish magic users were the primary method of combating gas and cave-ins and such, but if no such mage was available to accompany them, the miners used scrolls. Scrolls were expensive, one miner explained, but well worth the price to save lives. 

I was also informed that these scrolls were sold in a magic shop in the dwarven mining district, not the one aboveground. Hopefully they would let me buy some! 

I did my best to make sure that the children didn’t drink, but in the end, I couldn’t stop the dwarves from giving the kids alcohol for their own amusement. 

“Hee-hee-hee, Satou. Heh-heh… Sa. Tou. Ah-ha-ha, Satou. ?” 

Lulu was at least a happy drunk; she was giggling away as she fawned over me. 

The only accurate way to punctuate the singsong way she kept repeating my name was with a little heart or music note. 

Though I lifted the cup out of her hands, I dutifully allowed her to keep clinging to me. 

“Hic… At least I’ll get to stay a pure maiden forever. I’m gonna end up all alone in this world, just like last time…” 

Meanwhile, Arisa was more of a downer. I made a mental note to be extra careful about keeping alcohol away from her from now on. 

“Hee-hee…this is fun, sooo fun. C’mon, Satou, let’s drink more. Hoo-hoo, there’re three of you… How nice, sooo nice.” 

The usually reticent Mia wound up blathering on in Elvish. 

She was having a ball spinning around like a top, which was fine and all, except that her pigtails were whipping from side to side rather dangerously. 

Her skirt looked like it might roll up at this rate, too, so I caught her by the waist and plopped her down at my side opposite Lulu. 

“Whee-hee-hee… Ishh mashhter, shirr.” Pochi’s tongue wasn’t cooperating. 

“Nyooom.” 

Tama slid into my lap like liquid, curled up in a ball, and promptly fell asleep. Seeing this, Pochi crawled onto my knee as well. 

Argh, please just go to bed already! 

“Master, my logic circuits are malfunctioning, I report. This water may contain poison…son…son?” 

Shoot, even Nana had gotten some liquor. She was stammering like a broken record, so I gave her a magic potion to treat hangovers and laid her down to rest. 

Liza, who’d been drinking serenely by my side, was now sitting upright and fast asleep. 

Unlike modern-day Japan, this kingdom didn’t have any limitations on underage drinking, but I resolved right then not to let my kids drink again as long as they were minors. 

Indifferent to my silent resolution, the merrymaking at the banquet went on late into the night. 

> Title Acquired: Fairy Sword Smith 

> Title Acquired: Heavy Drinker 

> Title Acquired: Lush 

> Title Acquired: Drunkard 

> Title Acquired: Friend of the Dwarves 

The next morning, four of the younger girls discovered the suffering that is a hangover. 

“Ugh… My head… Id hurds so bad…” 

“Nyoo…” 

“It hurts…sir…” 

“Satou. Medicine.” 

Nana was fine thanks to the potion I’d given her the day before, and Liza and Lulu seemed to be faring well enough. 

Lulu busied herself bringing everyone water. When our eyes met, she turned bright red and quickly looked away. 

She was probably embarrassed about her behavior at the drinking party. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but she was being kind of cute, so I didn’t say anything. 

The children’s hangovers would probably be cured if I gave them more of the medicine I’d given Nana, but I decided to leave them be for a little while. 

“I’m going out for a bit. I’ll pick up the ingredients for a cure, so be good and sit tight, all right?” 

“F…fine. Don’t be long…” 

“We’ll be gooood.” 

“Pochi will be good, too, sir.” 

“Alcohol…terrible.” 

I waved a hand at the teary-eyed children and left the room. 

Jojorie was taking me to the magic shop that I’d learned about the night before. 

At her suggestion, I wore the fairy sword at my waist that I’d just received yesterday. The belt and sheath were new; I’d hastily constructed them myself after the party. They were made from ironshell fruit, the same material as Liza’s and Nana’s armor, so while they looked plain, they were actually hard enough to block a metal sword. 

I figured I would decorate the sheath and reinforce it with metal and such some other time. 

Anyway, putting that aside, the magic shop I was looking for was called “Don & Khan,” and it was located a little ways past a giant hall with a mithril furnace. 

“Hullo, Jojorie, did ye fall for a human? Ye’ll break Zajuul’s heart, y’know.” 

“Hey, Jojorie, yer old man’ll have yer hide fer bringing a human here, y’know.” 

Inside the magic shop, a pair of tiny twin elderly men greeted us. 

Their accent was similar to the dwarf guards’ we’d met at the city gate, but these two were actually gnomes. 

I’d heard at the forge that there was a big incident in the gnomes’ homeland of Boleheim, though. Why hadn’t these two gone back with them? 

Out of curiosity, I pulled up the detailed information in the AR display, where I learned that these brothers were from a clan called Braiheim. It was only the gnomes of the Boleheim clan who were having problems. 

“Good day, Mr. Don, Mr. Khan. This human has Father’s permission to be here, I assure you.” 

As she spoke, Jojorie pointed to the hilt of my fairy sword. The gnomes demanded to see it up close, so I took it off the sword belt and held it out to them. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t the old man’s seal.” 

“Well, I’ll be darned. How drunk did ye have to get him for this?” 

As it turned out, the design was Elder Dohal’s seal of approval, and it wasn’t attached to any ordinary work. 

If I showed it to any gnomes or dwarves living in the Bolehart dominion, they explained, I would be treated as warmly as an old friend. 

So basically, this was the dwarf version of my Silent Bell of Bolenan. 

Elder Dohal…was it really wise to give this to me when we only just met two days ago? 

At any rate, thanks to the seal, I could buy whatever I wanted in the store, so I had them show me their magic books and scrolls. 

The store turned out to serve as an alchemy shop as well, but they sold only finished products, not tools and ingredients. 

“Let me see. We have lesser spell books for all the basic elements—earth, water, fire, wind, ice, flame—and intermediate books for earth, fire, and flame. As for rarer items, we also have books on magic for smithing and workin’ in the mountains, y’see.” 

Mr. Don brought out a stack of spell books. 

The tome on smithing was a collection of spells that would be useful for a blacksmith, primarily using the “Fire Magic” skill. 

Similarly, mountain magic was for things like excavation and finding ore in the mines, making use of Earth Magic. 

I was also warned that a handful of the spells required other elemental magic skills. 

With Mr. Don’s permission, I skimmed through the lesser spell books. 

They were similar to the ones I’d bought in a human town, but certain aspects of the chants were different from the human versions. I ended up buying them all. Both paying for and stowing away the books was a breeze thanks to my Garage Bag. 

Next was what I was really here for: buying magic scrolls. Mr. Khan was in charge of scrolls and magic tools. 

“Oh-ho? Scrolls, is it? They’re just weak spells at a high price, y’know?” 

Mr. Khan cautioned me as he took the scrolls down from the shelf. 

They had only six kinds. 

“Mining engineers bring these with ’em when they’re doing a survey unaccompanied just to be safe, y’see. We’ve got Rock Smasher, which crushes rocks into dust… Freeze Water and Hard Clay, which they use if’n there’s a water leak…and the Earth Magic spell Wall, which can reinforce brittle rock. Aside from that, there’s just Air Cleaner and Air Curtain, which they use in case of any strange gases.” 

Of course, I requested one of each, but Mr. Khan had an objection. 

“Sorry, boy. Unless ye absolutely must have it, could I ask ye to hold off on Air Cleaner? It’s me last one, y’see. I don’t want to run out before we restock next month.” 

“In that case, just one each of the other five is fine.” 

I was disappointed, but I didn’t want it badly enough to inconvenience the dwarves. 

So the scrolls I got were as follows: 

> Scroll, Earth Magic: Wall 

> Scroll, Earth Magic: Rock Smasher 

> Scroll, Earth Magic: Hard Clay 

> Scroll, Wind Magic: Air Curtain 

> Scroll, Ice Magic: Freeze Water 

Testing them out would have to wait until I could do it in a remote place. 

I finished my errands within about a half hour and returned to the rest of my group. 

“Welcome hooome…” 

Arisa greeted me weakly from the floor, where she was sprawled out looking on the verge of death. 

Tama, Pochi, and Mia didn’t say a word. I must’ve left them hanging a little too long. 

I reached into the Garage Bag, pulled out some hangover medicine, and handed it to the four of them. 

“I liiiiive!” 

“All betterrr?” 

“Master, thank you, sir.” 

“Thanks.” 

The magic potion went straight to work, and in a flash they were right as rain. You’d never guess they’d been lying around groaning just moments before. 

When they immediately started complaining of hunger, Lulu headed to the kitchen to get some light soup. 

Arisa, in particular, seemed even more energetic than usual. She was probably trying to forget the things she’d said in her inebriation the night before, so I decided to steer clear of the subject as much as possible. 

I hadn’t had the chance yesterday, so I decided to spend the day touring Bolehart City with everyone. 

Jojorie even volunteered to show us the sights. We were getting the VIP treatment. 

First, at her recommendation, we visited a place called the central square. 

“Hold haaands?” 

“I wanna hold hands, too, sir.” 

“Sure.” 

I held hands with Tama and Pochi as we walked. 

“Mrrrr.” 

“Trade spots with us later!” 

“Aaaye!” 

“Yes, sir.” 

So now we were going to be holding hands in shifts. 

…Oh? 

Shortly after we started walking, I noticed that we were being followed. 

According to the map, I discovered that the people trailing us were dwarves, specifically security staff of Bolehart City. When I checked with Jojorie, she confirmed that Mayor Dorial had arranged an escort for us. 

Man, we really were getting the VIP treatment, then. 

All sorts of people had collected around the fountain in the central square: sword dancers, blade sharpeners, people selling weapons and armor, and many more. 

Instead of carts like I’d seen in Seiryuu City, the vendors had their wares spread out on sheets on the ground. Much of it ironware, probably one of the key products of the city. 

As I was looking around, I heard an argument between a dwarf and a young man. 

“Seriously?! How can a dwarven city not have any mithril swords for sale?!” 

“Please be reasonable, Mister Noble. The only smiths who can work with a precious material like mithril are Elder Dohal and his apprentices.” 

“So I can get one if I talk to this Dohal fellow, then?” 

Unlike the indifferent-sounding dwarf, the young man’s voice was rapidly rising in desperation. 

“Perhaps. But unlike the swords here, a mithril sword would cost you at least a hundred gold coins, eh?” 

“Excuse me? This iron sword here was only a single gold coin! How can it be so much more expensive?!” 

“A sword that’s only worth a single gold coin must be a cheap piece o’ work…” 

The dwarf responded to the agitated man in an exasperated voice. 

It smelled like trouble to me, so I adjusted our sightseeing course toward an area where a lively crowd seemed to be enjoying something. 

As it happened, exhibition matches were going on in a corner of the square. 

“Do we have any brave challengers?! If anyone can beat me, I’ll give you this Mantis Sword, made from one of the bladed arms of a soldier mantis! Isn’t there anyone bold enough to bet their own weapon and challenge me in a one-on-one match?!” 

A large tigerfolk man was waving around a sword made from a monster part and challenging the people near him. 

“The old capital’s martial arts tournament is coming up, so there are a lot of warriors gathered here at present.” 

“A martial arts tournament?” 

“That’s right. It’s held publicly once every three years. Aristocrats often take on participants who do well as vassals, so people travel from far and wide in the hopes of finding success.” 

Jojorie told me about the competition as we walked around the plaza until I felt a tug on my sleeve. 

“Sausaaage?” 

I looked where Tama was pointing to see a food cart selling links. They seemed to be served with a sauce made by boiling vegetables and tallow. 

“Master, the sauce turns it brown, sir. It’s very spicy when it’s brown, so you mustn’t use the sauce, sir. Pochi knows all about it, sir!” 

Pochi’s face was very serious as she spoke, and Tama nodded rapidly in assent. 

…No way. Trying to keep my rising hopes under control, I walked over to the stall. 

“I knew it—it’s mustard!” 

“The seed spice, you mean? If you prefer yours with an extra kick, the chili pepper–stuffed sausages are three coppers apiece, the regular ones bein’ two.” 

“One regular sausage with the seed spice, please.” 

“Certainly.” 

I wasted no time in tasting the mustard-coated sausage. 

Right away, vivid heat lit up my taste buds with that familiar sting. Delicious. 

Savoring the contrast between the piquant mustard and the hearty sausage, I quickly took another bite. 

Yum. It was so good I couldn’t stop myself. Before I knew it, I’d wolfed the whole thing down. 

“I’ve never seen you buy and eat something so quickly before, master.” 

Lulu’s eyes were wide as she passed me a handkerchief. 

There must have been mustard on my face. 

I thanked her and wiped my mouth clean, eliciting a shriek from Arisa, who was jumping up and down next to me. 

“Argh! There goes my dream! I wanted to wipe a little boy’s cheek with my finger and go, ‘Hee-hee, you little glutton…’” 

Was it really so upsetting that she needed to pound the ground with her fists? 

Ignoring Arisa’s eccentric behavior as usual, I recommended the sausages to everyone else. 

According to Lulu, though, they’d already bought a bunch of the mustard sausages the day before. When I patted her head and praised their good taste, she turned adorably red. 

Pochi, on the other hand, seemed a little forlorn that I hadn’t followed her advice. 

Next time, I vowed silently, I would eat whatever she recommended. 

After exiting the square, we took a street carriage to go through the artisan district. 

The clanking of hammers on anvils and the raucous voices of dwarves colored the streets. 

“This is quite the hustle and bustle around here.” 

“Oh yes. There’s plenty of demand for forged weapons, of course. But the Bolehart dominion also boasts the finest casting technology in the Shigan Kingdom, so we receive lots of orders every month.” 

That made sense. Even a relatively violent world like this one had to produce something besides weapons. 

“If you’re interested, would you like to have a look around?” 

“Yes, please!” 

I wasted no time in accepting Jojorie’s offer, so she took us to a casting workshop run by one of her acquaintances. 

“…More or less. To put it simply, we pour heated metal into a mold, remove the hardened cast, shave off any excess with a rasp, and that’s that.” 

The dwarf who owned the workshop was kind enough to explain the casting process. This was another benefit of Elder Dohal’s seal. 

The area on the other side of the large room was where they poured the liquid metal into the molds. The red glow lit up the shadowy room, and crimson sparks flew as the metal flowed into the molds to create an unexpectedly beautiful sight. 

The metallic odor was a bit strong, so I covered my mouth with a handkerchief. Looking to my side, I saw Lulu and Mia do the same. 

The workshop owner chortled at our outward daintiness. 

“The sparks are prettyyyy?” 

“It goes glub glub, sir!” 

Tama and Pochi seemed excited about watching the metal river pour into the casts. 

The fascinated pair tried to get closer, but as soon as they took a single step forward, Liza swept them up and carried them under her arms like sacks of flour. 

The sparks seemed to enchant Nana, too, and she started reeling toward the workers. 

“No.” 

Mia caught the end of Nana’s long ponytail and yanked her back mercilessly. 

It was so forceful that I half expected to hear Nana’s neck crack. 

“Mia, that hurts, I protest.” 

“Mm, sorry.” 

Nana tearily rubbed the back of her neck, looking toward the sparks. “It is beautiful; thus, it would be best to see it up close, I propose.” 

“Dangerous,” Mia scolded, and Nana looked to me for rescue. 

“Master, permission?” 

“Sorry, but you’ll have to watch it from here. It’s too dangerous.” 

Nana’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. 

“You’d best stay back, missy. If you venture too close, you could get a burn on that pretty face.” 

With that, the workshop owner led us to the next room. 

As we walked, I asked him a question that had been on my mind. “How are the molds made?” 

“First, we make a model out of clay or carved wood. Then we bring it to a magic user, who turns the model to stone. We dunk the stone model in molten metal, then cut the block in half once it hardens. We have the magic user turn the stone to mud to drain it out, and presto! You have a mold.” 

…I wasn’t expecting dwarves to use magic in the casting process. 

“Some casters use sand or plaster, but not here. If memory serves, elves make the molds entirely with magic, don’t they?” 

“Mm.” 

Mia nodded when the workshop owner looked to her for confirmation. 

I imagine it’d be easy enough to make a mold with magic if you had a strong enough spell, maybe something like Shield or Shelter. 

After our tour of the workshop, we were served chilled tea in an office decorated with casting samples. We’d just come through some extremely hot rooms, so the cold drink was very refreshing. 

Glancing around, I spotted something interesting in the corner of the room. 

“Is that a meat grinder for sausages?” 

“Yes, that’s right. We make all kinds, from small ones for food carts to the big ones used at meat-processing plants.” 

Aha, so I was right. 

“If someone were to place an order, how long would it take to complete?” 

“Are you interested in purchasing one?” 

“Yes, I am. We had some delicious sausage in the central square, so now I’m rather interested in a machine that would let me make it myself.” 

It was possible to mince meat with a carving knife, but not only was it a pain, the others probably wouldn’t be able to do it without scattering meat everywhere or ruining the texture. 

“As far as small cart-size machines go, I believe we do have a completed one. Would you like it delivered to the mayor’s estate?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Now I would be able to make a certain something for everyone. 

I pictured the kids’ happy faces as I paid the workshop owner and filled out the paperwork. 

After the caster’s, we visited a few other general workshops. Then, at Jojorie’s suggestion, we took a little break at a windmill. 

In the park in front of the giant blades, I got to taste the city’s famous shrimp crackers and watch the younger girls play with some dwarf children. 

Once our sightseeing tour was done, I had Jojorie show me the way to one more shop. 

“Here we are: Garohal’s Magic Shop.” 

There were no customers to be seen inside, just a single dwarf falling asleep at the counter. 

“Honestly, Garohal…” Jojorie marched up to the counter and rapped him on the forehead with her knuckles. 

It was easy to tell that she was Elder Dohal’s grandchild. 

“Ouch…” Mr. Garohal rubbed his head as he looked up. 

He was surprisingly thin for a dwarf, and his beard was carefully set with wax. Maybe he was an attractive guy by dwarf standards. 

“Are you awake now?” 

“Hiya, Jojorie. It’s rare to see ye come out to the shop! Did ye finally get fed up with that meathead Zajuul? Wonderful! I couldn’t be happier.” 

“Good morning, Garohal. You mustn’t speak so poorly of Mr. Zajuul.” 

As soon as he saw Jojorie, Garohal started chattering like a machine gun. Jojorie didn’t seem overly impressed. 

“Oh-ho, are those customers behind ye?” 

“That’s right. These are Grandfather’s honored guests, so be sure to take good care of them.” 

“Ho-ho, Elder Dohal accepting a human? Is he the son of some important noble?” 

“Not quite. Mr. Satou is a blacksmith skilled enough to earn Grandfather’s seal.” 

“Och, really?” 

I presented the surprised dwarf the pattern on my fairy sword. Once he was convinced, he finally showed me his wares. 

The magic books were mostly the same as the ones in the shop underground, but there was a two-volume set on Everyday Magic by a different author, so I purchased that. 

This shop also had various smithing-related materials for alchemy. 

Some ore-based materials, like mercury and sulfur, were normally in short supply in other cities, but here they had a large supply at a very low price, so I bought as much as I could without cleaning him out. 

I was even able to buy mercury by the barrel, so it would be easy to transmute plating and such in the future. 

“Ga-ha-ha, this is the biggest sale I’ve made since we opened! Jojorie, ye really are my goddess, aren’t ye?” 

“Enough of that, Garohal! Stop celebrating and take care of your customer, please,” Jojorie chided the excited Garohal. 

Once his attention was back to me, I requested to see his scrolls. 

Now this was what I really came here for. 

Their selection of scrolls was different here than the shop underground. According to Mr. Garohal, these were aimed toward nobles and merchants. 

“How do ye like that? I went all the way to Yorschka to buy these. Bet ye’ve never laid eyes on these before, eh?” 

“Oh my! I thought that Yorschka was full of monster hunters and weaselfolk merchants. You didn’t buy anything too strange, did you?” 

Mr. Garohal seemed quite confident, though Jojorie less so. 

Yorschka was a town in the southeast of this territory, a major stop on the highway that led to a group of small countries beyond the eastern mountain range. 

“Yer such a worrywart, Jojorie.” Mr. Garohal set out the scrolls with mild irritation. “Look at this! These are rare Everyday Magic scrolls: Bug Wiper, Anti-Itch, and Deodorant. Perfect for folks who ain’t accustomed to long journeys. There’s even Pure Water, to prevent any stomachaches from unboiled water.” 

They were very intriguing scrolls, but the prices seemed a little high. 

Sure enough, Jojorie’s face clouded over as she scanned the collection. 

“Say, Garohal. How much is it for one of these scrolls?” 

“Well, normally I’d like to sell ’em for one gold coin apiece, but yer a special guest. I’d settle for three silvers.” 

“You haven’t sold a single one of these scrolls, have you?” 

Mr. Garohal’s proud expression froze. 

Then Arisa dealt the finishing blow. 

“For these prices, I’d imagine it’d be easier and more cost-efficient to just hire a servant who can use Everyday Magic instead of carrying around all these pricey scrolls.” 

It seemed many merchants and nobles had had the same thought as Arisa; half a year had passed since Garohal bought these, but they weren’t selling at all. 

“W-well, we also have Sonar for finding wolves and Fence to prevent thieves from escaping!” 

“Wouldn’t a beastfolk’s sharp senses be far superior?” 

Mr. Garohal tried to recover his sales pitch, but Arisa was having none of it. 

“Th-then how about Signal? You can use it to send messages to your companions in remote places!” 

“Doesn’t the other person need to have the Signal scroll, too, to receive it?” 

“Mm, yes.” 

“In that case, you might as well just use smoke signals.” 

Arisa, a magic enthusiast, was quick to point out the problem with the Signal spell, and Mia affirmed it. When Jojorie added a pragmatic assessment of her own, Mr. Garohal looked ready to cry. 

Nana’s Foundation included Signal, so it would at least be useful for receiving emergency messages from Nana. 

Getting desperate, Garohal pulled out the next scroll, a Light Magic spell called Condense. 

“This one’s amazing! It’ll dry yer laundry even on cloudy days, and ye can read books in the dark!” 

“G-Garohal…” 

“…Okay, I thought it was the Light spell when I bought it.” 

Jojorie looked anxious about Mr. Garohal’s increasingly desperate state as he soldiered on with the sales pitch. 

I felt bad for him at this point, so I decided to give him a hand. I could probably get a good price on them now anyway. 

“Mr. Garohal, I’m a collector of rare scrolls, so I’d like to purchase all the scrolls here.” 

“R-really? Och…” 

At my words, tears welled up in Garohal’s eyes. 

“You’ll give him a discount, of course, won’t you?” 

“O-of course I will, Jojorie. In fact, I’ll sell them to ye for the price I paid for them. No markup at all.” 

I had been hoping for a bit of a discount, of course, but I hadn’t expected him to go all the way down to cost price. 

“I know! If ye collect scrolls, I have other rare ones for ye, too. I’ll go and fetch them at once.” 

Judging that he might be able to sell them to me, Mr. Garohal disappeared into the back. 

Before long, he returned covered in dust with another armful of scrolls. 

“How’s this? These are very rare indeed.” 

True enough, it was nothing I’d ever seen before. 

The first was an Earth Magic spell, Polish. It looked useful at first glance, but it seemed like a regular rasp or file would be easier to use and fine-tune. 

The second was a Fire Magic scroll, Forge. This was obviously a spell for melting metal into ingots. 

It definitely sounded like something dwarves would use, but it turned out that you would have to cast the scroll version ten times or more to even melt copper. 

“I-it can be used as Attack Magic!” 

“If you used this as an attack, you’d hurt yourself, too. There are plenty of other spells that are more MP cost-efficient, like Fire Shot.” 

To make matters worse, its range was so short that it would even burn the person who used the defective scroll. 

Basically, you’d be better off just using a regular furnace. 

Besides, there would be little point in attempting blacksmithing on the go, so there was virtually no demand for a product like this. 

The third scroll was called Magic Mold. 

This spell caused a transparent cube to materialize in midair, where it could be shaped to the user’s liking and then reversed to create a mold. 

“This one actually does sound useful.” 

“Yes, couldn’t you sell it to people for making prototypes and such?” 

“Well…” 

Again, although this one seemed useful for blacksmiths, there was a major drawback. 

“Intermediate.” 

“Oh, that’s right! This is an intermediate spell, isn’t it?” 

Mia mumbled a word, and Arisa promptly agreed. 

In other words, it would consume much more MP than a lesser spell. 

“Plus, they told me clay was easier to use…” 

Still, it could be used to make molds out of clay prototypes, but there were more problems, as Mr. Garohal confessed. 

Its durability was terribly low; if molten metal was poured into it, the mold would break from the heat damage before the metal hardened. 

“Y-you can use it with wax, at least…” 

With nothing left to say to Garohal’s half-hearted defense, Jojorie simply patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

The last scroll was a Practical Magic spell, Cube. 

“Why do you have such a bizarre scroll…?” Unable to think of any uses for the spell, Arisa knit her brow. 

This was a spell in the vein of Shield and Floating Board that could produce transparent cubes in the air in a size of the user’s choice. 

It seemed to be mainly used for blocking charging enemies or making temporary desks and chairs. 

It didn’t last long, and it would disappear as soon as the user moved away from it. Instead of being fixed in the air, it would move if enough weight was applied to it. 

So I could make invisible stairs in midair and stuff. Would this spell actually be useful? 

“The lowest level of Cube is only about this big, you know.” 

Arisa drew a square approximately four inches around in the air with her finger. And it could support just a pound of weight at that, she explained. Scrolls could produce only the lowest level of a spell, so I could see why this one was another dud. 

“…I thought I was buying two Magic Mold scrolls, but one of them turned out to be this.” 

“Garohal…” 

Mr. Garohal muttered self-deprecatingly, and Jojorie watched him with sympathy. 

“Well, this sure is a weird collection of scrolls you’ve got here…” 

“Mrrrr.” 

Arisa and Mia looked unimpressed. 

Tama and Pochi were sleeping at Liza’s feet. They must’ve gotten bored. 

These were the last of the scrolls, so I decided to start the negotiations. 

“Well, they’re certainly all very interesting. So, how much would it be for the lot of them?” 

“…Huh?” 

All the criticism from Jojorie and Arisa must have had Mr. Garohal convinced that he couldn’t sell them. When I asked about the price, he looked completely flabbergasted. 

True, these were garbage by normal standards, but to me they were much more fascinating than the ones I bought underground. 

“You will sell them to me, won’t you?” 

“Oh, uh… Yes! Yes, o-of course!” Mr. Garohal stammered in disbelief, but he agreed to sell them when I pressed the question. “I’ll sell them at cost—no, that would be greedy. A silver coin for each will be fine. Och, what a great day. Jojorie, yer a goddess.” 

I handed the money to Mr. Garohal, now thoroughly cheered up, and accepted the bunch of scrolls from him. 

If I ever learned how to make magic scrolls, I swore to myself that I would sell the best ones to him wholesale. 

Anyway, these were the ones I ended up buying: 

> Scroll, Everyday Magic: Bug Wiper 

> Scroll, Everyday Magic: Anti-Itch 

> Scroll, Everyday Magic: Deodorant 

> Scroll, Everyday Magic: Pure Water 

> Scroll, Practical Magic: Sonar 

> Scroll, Practical Magic: Fence 

> Scroll, Practical Magic: Signal 

> Scroll, Practical Magic: Cube 

> Scroll, Practical Magic: Magic Mold 

> Scroll, Earth Magic: Polish 

> Scroll, Fire Magic: Forge 

> Scroll, Light Magic: Condense 

Someday, I would use them from the magic menu, and I eagerly anticipated the effects. 

The next day, we went to say our farewells to Elder Dohal before leaving Bolehart City. 

“Satou, I’ll give ye Jojorie to wife so ye may carry on my legacy.” 

“M-master! I’m the one who should marry her…!” 

“G-Grandfather?! And you too, Mr. Zajuul! What are you saying?” 

Elder Dohal’s sudden declaration sent Jojorie and Zajuul into a panic. 

Jojorie was a great girl and all, but unfortunately, she was miles out of my strike zone. 

“Lord Dohal, it is most kind of you to offer, but sadly I have a mission to attend to. Besides, I am certain there are many wonderful young men in Bolehart City who would be better than the likes of me. And you can pass on your magnificent crafting skills to your apprentices as well.” 

I politely declined, and luckily Elder Dohal didn’t push the subject further. 

I probably had “Persuasion” to thank for that. 

Elder Dohal and many of the other dwarves saw us off as we departed from Bolehart City. 

I would have to come back to visit sometime, perhaps with a gift of fine liquor from my journey. 

I put a hand on the fairy sword at my waist as I watched the smoke from Bolehart City disappear behind the mountains.