Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka - Volume 4 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

THE SMITH’S SITUATION 

“Finally, the eleventh floor!” 

Mr. Welf pats his lower back a few times, his weapon over his shoulder as he announces our arrival to no one in particular. 

Just like he so vigorously said a moment ago, we’re on the eleventh floor of the Dungeon. 

We’ve just stepped off of a very wide stairwell and into the room that serves as the starting point for this floor. Just like the tenth above it, a thick fog fills every room on this floor except for this one. 

With nothing to block my vision, I can see that the floor in here is covered in ankle-high grass just tall enough to hide my boots. There are also several dead trees scattered throughout the room. Monsters can use these landforms as weapons. 

“Didn’t you say this is the lowest you’ve ever been, Mr. Welf?” 

“Yep, that’s right. Sorry about this, Bell. I’ve thrown a lot of information at you since we met.” 

At first I was really surprised when he asked to join my battle party yesterday, but after hearing why, I invited him right away. 

We’d already agreed on a direct contract so there was no reason to refuse him. I was looking for another battle party member, too, so I’d call it a win-win. 

“Don’t worry about it. And this is all to get Forge, so I’m already involved as it is…” 

“Glad to hear you put it like that.” 

Mr. Welf’s request was to help him level up so he could acquire the Advanced Ability called Forge. 

That ability is a complete game-changer for the smiths who acquire it. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say it can make or break the future for a smith. Mr. Welf explained with a very sad look in his eyes exactly how much more his fellow smiths in Hephaistos Familia could do as soon as they leveled up. 

Normally, whenever a member of any Familia goes into the Dungeon, they form a party with other members of the same group… 

“It’s a little embarrassing to say this myself…but what’s their deal?! Whenever a battle party goes into the Dungeon, I’m always left out! Can you believe that?” 

…So, that’s what’s going on. 

Mr. Welf needs high-quality excelia in order to level up, but since his allies always kick him out, he’s had to work solo. Therefore, going deeper than the top few levels is impossible—no one can make it out in one piece. So he started looking to join battle parties with members of other Familias as a last resort. 

It sounds like the members—smiths of Hephaistos Familia—have to overcome many obstacles on their own, as well as engage in friendly competition with other smiths in order to improve. But the Forge ability—in other words, leveling up—is the equivalent of life and death for a smith. Since they’re all in the same boat, most form deep friendships as they fight their way through the Dungeon… 

I asked Mr. Welf why he was always left behind, but all he said was, “They’re just jealous of my hidden talents,” in a really sullen voice. I wonder what’s really going on… 

Mr. Welf must have noticed me looking at him as he scratches his head. He drops his shoulders and flashes a warm smile. 

“In any case, I’m grateful, Bell. Familias tend to be picky about who they work with, but I’m glad you could throw that way of thinking out the window.” 

“W-well, um…I couldn’t exactly refuse, not after receiving all of this…” 

Mr. Welf smiles at me again. I take another look at my new equipment before smiling back at him. It can’t be helped. 

The armor on my chest sparkles like new, even in the dim light. 

“…Lilly heard that we had a new friend, but what’s this? Mr. Bell’s trust was bought by such simple things?” 

A very annoyed voice cuts into a pause in our conversation. 

A bead of sweat rolls down my cheek. Lilly’s disapproval of the arrangement came across loud and clear. I look over my shoulder to see her a few paces behind, hands clamped firmly on the straps of her backpack and a very irritated look in her eyes. 

I tell her there’s a misunderstanding, but from her point of view, it really might look like I was bribed. 

At this moment, I’m wearing the new light armor set that Mr. Welf made for me. 

The set isn’t all that different from my old equipment. It’s a plate of armor over each knee and a breastplate, along with two ruby-encrusted wrist guards that cover my forearms all the way up to my elbows. A little fancier than before. 

It’s just as light as the last one. Mr. Welf said that the material is a little thicker, but I can’t feel that much of a difference. It takes time to adjust to a new set of armor, but it feels like I’ve been wearing this for years. 

It’s not that I didn’t want an armor that my body was used to…but, yeah, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor. 

The pressure from Lilly’s half-eyed gaze is so strong that I can’t even crack a grin. 

“Oh, Lilly’s sad. Very, very sad. It was supposed to be a nice, easy shopping trip, but Lilly’s hopes were completely dashed and now we’re stuck with a problem…Mr. Bell’s kindness is making Lilly cry.” 

The sheer sarcasm in her voice is like a body blow. But Mr. Welf’s armor can’t block that…! 

But what does she mean by “problem”…? 

“Isn’t that going a little too far, Lilly?! Mr. Welf’s not trying to do anything bad…There’s no problem, just a misunderstanding!” 

“—What is Lilly misunderstanding?! ‘Until an ability is acquired’? He’s just taking advantage of us! And isn’t this too-perfect timing to find a party member?! As soon as this no-name smith meets his goal, he’ll leave and we’ll be back to where we were before! One step forward, one step back! This is a complete waste! There’s no light at the end of this tunnel!!” 

Her eyebrows sink lower with every word, her eyes sharpening like daggers. 

Her relentless barrage attacks me from every angle, a swarm of verbal bees coming out to protect the hive. At this rate, she’ll break me in half! 

The way Mr. Welf is looking at me…It’s too pathetic…! 

“Why didn’t Mr. Bell talk with Lilly before adding someone to our party?! Why, Mr. Bell?!” 

“Was…Was that bad…?” 

“Not bad, no, not bad, but if Mr. Bell doesn’t talk with Lilly first, Lilly might get in trouble! Lady Hestia entrusted Lilly with making sure Mr. Bell is safe!” 

R-really? The goddess asked her to do that…I guess that’s how little she trusts me. 

I can feel my head drooping as I look back over at a still very hostile Lilly. I get the feeling that the real reason she’s angry has nothing to do with Mr. Welf. 

Maybe she’s trying to take care of me…No, that can’t be right. 

She must think it’s dangerous for me to be doing things on my own and wants to keep me under her thumb. Probably. 

“Oh, am I getting in the way, Small Fry?” 

Mr. Welf had been watching us talk in silence but chooses this moment to jump in. 

Lilly isn’t too fond of Mr. Welf already, but her chestnut-colored eyes went ablaze after being called “Small Fry.” 

“Lilly is not Small Fry! Lilly’s name is Lilliluka Erde!” 

“Okay, pleasure to meet’cha, Li’l E.” 

“…Lilly doesn’t care anymore. It’s pointless!” 

Mr. Welf bends over and sticks his toothy grin in Lilly’s face like he’s making fun of her, which I’m pretty sure he is. Lilly lets out a small “Humph” and looks the other way. 

He doesn’t seem to mind Lilly’s reaction; on the contrary, he looks like he’s enjoying it…I don’t have a good feeling about these two from here on out. 

“…Well, um, Lilly. I know it’s a little late, but I’ll introduce him. This is Mr. Welf Crozzo. He’s a smith belonging to Hephaistos Familia.” 

Lilly should at least know Mr. Welf’s full name, so I tell her. I wanted to tell her earlier this morning when we were on our way to meet up with him, but her mood was so bad it just didn’t seem like the right time. 

And Mr. Welf already knows Lilly’s full name, so there shouldn’t be a problem. 

I wasn’t expecting any kind of response, and Lilly is looking the other way anyway— 

“Crozzo?” 

Lilly’s body shakes as if she’d been slapped in the face the moment she hears Mr. Welf’s family name. 

“Huh?” The sound escapes my mouth before I knew it. What’s with that reaction? 

“The cursed house of magic swordsmiths? The noble family of smiths that fell into ruin?” 

Magic swordsmiths…? 

Even more than that, what does she mean by “noble family of smiths”? 

I turn to Mr. Welf in confusion and look for answers. 

His playful grin is gone; a sour face has taken over. 

“Ah, um…Crozzo?” 

My eyes jump back and forth between them, Lilly in shock and Mr. Welf with an irritated twitch in his eye. I have to break this uncomfortable silence, so I ask him about his family name. Lilly’s eyes go wide as her face snaps right to me in surprise. 

“Do you not know about them, Mr. Bell…?” 

“Eh, well…No, I don’t.” 

What reason is there to say anything else? I shake my head no. 

“Long ago, the Crozzo family was granted noble status by a king for the magic swords they forged. It’s said that the only thing they made was magic swords…tens, hundreds of thousands of them.” 

“So that means…?!” 

“They were the masters of the magic sword, the symbol of their time. Some claim that their magic swords were so powerful that they could ‘set fire to the ocean’…” 

Lilly pauses for a moment and looks up at Mr. Welf. 

Her fingers curl; she looks like she’s building up courage to say something difficult. 

“…But one day they fell out of favor with the king. They lost their noble status and their house fell into ruin…” 

Lilly speaks as quickly as she can. What kind of face am I supposed to make now? I try to keep my expression as neutral as possible as I look over to Mr. Welf. 

He scratches the back of his head for a few seconds, his hair wavering back and forth. Then he lowers his hand and waves, a forced smile on his face. 

“…Well, that’s not important right now, is it? We’re here to crawl the Dungeon, aren’t we? Right?” 

“Ah…y-yes.” 

Mr. Welf’s slightly higher gaze falls on me as he tries his best to change the subject. 

He takes the weapon resting on his shoulder, a surprisingly wide-bladed longsword with incredible reach, and thrusts it into the ground. 

I give him a quick nod as Lilly takes a step back, like she’s waiting for something to happen. She looks up at him, her penetrating gaze looking for anything unusual. 

“—?” 

“Hm?” 

Crack! All of us hear it at the same time. 

We freeze for a moment. The three of us have spent enough time in the Dungeon to know exactly what that sound means. 

A monster is being born from the dungeon wall. 

“W-woah…!” 

“…Big one.” 

“An orc, for sure.” 

All of us respond as our eyes seek out the source of the noise. It doesn’t take me long to find a massive crack in the wall. 

Another series of cracks echoes through the room as a thick brown arm forces its way out. 

Pieces of the dungeon wall fall to the ground like bits of a broken eggshell. A huge chunk crashes to the ground as the monster’s right arm blasts through, followed closely by the beast’s head and torso. 

“BUGGIII…ooOOOHHHH…!” 

Announcing its birth to the world, the orc fully emerges. 

I’ve never seen an orc birth before… 

I clear my throat to steady myself. Large-category monster births are quite a sight. 

The only word I have for seeing the dungeon wall crumble like that is “overwhelming.” 

The monster falls onto all fours as it lands with a loud crash. Slowly but steadily, it climbs to its feet. 

“…It ain’t over. This is why the Dungeon is so scary from the tenth on down.” 

Crack, crack, crack! Sounds keep coming from the dungeon walls. Now the sounds are echoing from every direction in the room, and monsters are right behind them. 

Many adventurers have reported that monsters will suddenly emerge in large numbers in the same room, starting around the tenth floor of the Dungeon. 

The walls basically fall apart as the room is inundated with monsters. A “monster party,” that’s what this is called. 

They are, of course, very dangerous. Especially if you happen to be in the middle of the room when it happens, since you’ll be surrounded in no time flat. I take a step back, a dumbfounded smile on my face. 

“There is no reason to panic. There is no fog in this room and it is very wide. There’s little chance of being surrounded and we can retreat to the tenth if necessary.” 

Lilly speaks calmly as she adjusts her backpack with a small sigh. 

She has traveled with many battle parties, and this isn’t her first trip to the eleventh floor. Her Status might be far below ours, but she knows what she’s doing. 

I take a quick look behind me and see the stairwell right there, just as Lilly had said. A little of the tension gone, I take a deep breath and survey the room. 

“All right, I got dibs on the orc.” 

“Eh, are you sure?” My eyes pop open at Mr. Welf’s declaration. 

Orcs are extremely strong. If a Level 1 adventurer, or even a Level 2, takes a direct hit from one of these monsters, that person won’t be getting up for a long time. 

Mr. Welf’s eyebrows sink, a grin back on his lips as he looks at the surprise on my face. 

“Should be great news, yeah? The things are slow and stupid. Even I’m more than a match for them.” 

Oh, so people can think like that… 

Whether I’m still a novice or Mr. Welf is a daredevil, I’m not sure. But in any case, he seems to believe that an orc will be no problem. He takes a step forward, jerking his jaw in the direction of the beast. 

Hephaistos Familia might be a group of smiths, but they’re also very powerful. Warrior smiths, if you will. And Mr. Welf is no exception—although he claims it’s all just to get the Advanced Ability Forge. From what I’ve seen of his fighting style so far and what he did on the lower tenth floor, he won’t hold us back. He may be a Level 1 adventurer, but there’s no doubt he’s one of the most powerful. 

“Mr. Bell, please fight as you like. Lilly will support the smith from behind. To be honest, Lilly would appreciate Mr. Bell checking on us from time to time.” 

“Oh? What’s this? I thought you hated my guts, Lilly?” 

“Of course Lilly does. But Lilly doesn’t want you to get in Mr. Bell’s way.” 

Lilly grins at him, her eyes sparkling. I can only grimace at the look on her face. 

She’s probably made this suggestion to give me a chance to try out my new Level 2 abilities. She’s determined that I’ll be okay on my own in this situation. 

I’m not going to argue with her. 

…And also, it might be a little reckless, but… 

I want to test myself. 

“Let’s get cracking! Before the imps swarm in, yeah?” 

“You don’t have to tell Lilly twice. Mr. Bell. Lilly thinks Mr. Bell knows, but…” 

“Yes, don’t worry. I won’t let my guard down.” 

A chorus of sliding metal and snapping sounds surrounds us as we each arm ourselves for battle. 

I do a few quick stretches, take a deep breath to focus, and charge into the fray. 

“Hyyeeh!” “Hyyeegii!” 

I race across the open plain, a swarm of imps heading right for me. 

Mr. Welf has taken care of the monsters that we encountered on the way down to the lower eleventh floor. This will be my first actual combat today. 

A small group peels off from the swarm and swoops down at me, all of them shrieking at the top of their lungs. It’s five on one for now. 

I have no clue how many monsters are emerging from the dungeon walls. Loud cracks are still echoing through the room, and the imp swarm is growing larger by the second. 

—For the first time ever, I dash toward them at full speed. 

I lean forward while on the move. 

The distance between us rapidly disappearing, I slam my foot into the ground and push off. 

Dirt goes flying in my wake. 

“—Hye?” 

The imp flies up to my face. 

No. 

I closed the distance. 

This speed is no joke. The wind is whistling in my ears. 

Even though I’m flying through the air faster than ever before, my senses are keeping up. 

I take a swing at the imp in front of my face with the Divine Knife. 

SHING! 

“?!” 

The imp’s head leaves its body and flies toward the ceiling. 

About half of the accompanying imp swarm is distracted by their comrade’s flying head and by the arc of purple light that took it off. 

Their surprise at the sudden turn of events opens the window I need to keep going forward and take on the rest. 

Downward slash. 

My body light as a feather, I weave my way from imp to imp like a lightning bolt through the sky. One of the monsters drops to the ground in pieces with every hit. I’m on to the next before they even knew what hit them. 

It only takes one hit. Armed with my dagger and the Divine Knife, my black and white fangs, I tear through the imp swarm and leave a trail of bodies in my dust. 

They’re so slow…Wait— 

I’m taking the first strike. None of them have even tried to counterattack. 

My enemies aren’t slow. 

I’ve become so fast that— 

They can’t counterattack! 

I’ve changed. I’ve completely changed. Nothing’s the same as before! 

So this is the true meaning of leveling up! 

The goddess’s blessing! 

“AAAAHHHHHHH!!” 

“GAHII?!” 

I land one of Aiz’s spin kicks square into the chest of an oncoming imp. It’s launched with the speed of an arrow off of my foot and straight into the dirt. After bouncing and tumbling a few times, it comes to a dead standstill and doesn’t move. 

An imp swarm that once contained more than ten individuals is now completely wiped out. 

“RWOOOOOO!!” 

“!” 

A new monster appears in front of me, howling. 

It’s about as tall as I am. It stands on two short, stubby legs, but its two long arms end in a very deadly looking set of claws. Its back and arms are completely covered by a series of shells, almost like it’s wearing a suit of armor. The shell on its head comes to a point in front of its eyes, like it’s wearing a battle helmet. 

Another one of the armadillo-like monsters emerges. The two of them advance on my position. 

“Hard Armoreds.” They first appear on the eleventh floor. 

I’ve never seen one before, but luckily I’ve got a monster encyclopedia in my head courtesy of Eina’s aggressive lectures. What did she have to say about these guys again? 

Much like the killer ant, Hard Armoreds have very strong defense courtesy of their thick shell-like armor. However, their unprotected underbelly is very vulnerable to attack. Compared to the killer ant’s full-body protection, it’s easy to see where to strike…However, their Defense is by far the better of the two. 

Out of all the monsters on the lower eleventh and twelfth floors, their Defense is second to none. In other words, when it comes to taking a hit, they can withstand more damage than anything else in the upper levels. 

A Hard Armored is basically a walking iron fortress that can repel a dwarf’s attack with ease. It has often been said that a Level 1 adventurer doesn’t stand a chance against one of them in hand-to-hand combat. 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that adventurers need Basic Ability levels ranging from B to S, in order to survive on the lower eleventh and twelfth because of Hard Armoreds. 

“—HEH!” 

Time stands still for a moment as we size each other up. The instant our eyes meet, we charge. 

My powerful legs burst forward. 

One of the Hard Armoreds curls his body into a ball and rolls at me with blinding speed. 

That thick shell on his back is a very sturdy defense, but it can be a powerful weapon at the same time. One of these attacks has enough power to plow through entire battle parties and send them flying. Nothing short of a powerful blow will bring them to a stop. 

The rolling beast is practically a man-size boulder careening toward me. Covering the area between us in no time flat, I barely avoid an impact that would have sent me reeling for days. 

I set my sights on the other one. 

It’s still on its feet, so if I take care of this one first, then I can focus on the roller without having to watch my back. 

“OOAAAHHH!!” 

The beast charges at me, claws drawn and ready. 

I bring my blades forward and hold my ground until the last possible moment—before jumping up and to the side. 

“?!” 

My body arcs just in front of the monster’s nose and eyes. 

Unable to follow my movement, I completely disappear from its line of sight. 

I’m in its blind spot, diagonally behind its head. 

Bringing my knees up and flipping forward with the Divine Knife upside down in my grip, I slash downward. 

“—GAAhhh?!” 

The Hard Armored’s shell splits cleanly in two under the force of my attack. 

—An opening! 

The best Defense in the upper levels is breakable. 

Rotating in midair, I catch a glimpse of the amount of damage I inflicted on the creature’s body and tighten my grip on the knife. 

“ROOOOOOAAHHH!!” 

The remaining Hard Armored has regained its balance and is rolling at me at full speed. 

I curl my head under my shoulders and roll over my back as I land. The instant my foot hits the dirt, I raise my right arm and spin around to face the oncoming monster. 

“Firebolt!” 

An electric inferno roars to life. 

Each bolt is louder, faster, and thicker than ever before. Violet light flashes over the beast just before the flames tear into it. 

KABOOM! 

The shock wave from the explosion blows past me, the Hard Armored’s burned body emerging from the smoke a moment later. Part of the shell on its back is completely gone. Other pieces fall off as its lifeless body collapses to the ground. 

The completely exposed Hard Armored’s smoldering remains lie in silence, smoke pouring out from its mouth. 

Even my Magic is stronger… 

Watching the remaining sparks fizzle out, I bring my arm in front of my chest. 

My power is on a whole other level. The scale is completely different. 

It’s not just my Firebolt; I can’t deny that I feel like I don’t have full control of this power yet, but… 

I’m getting closer, for sure! 

I can see her in the back of my mind, one female knight. 

The place I want to be off in the distance, behind that long, flowing blond hair, I’m closing in. 

My heart is racing, pounding in my ears. I use all of my might to force myself to calm down. 

“—ooOOHH!” 

The roar of an orc caught me off guard and brought me back into the present. 

Suddenly, Lilly’s words run through my head and I look in that direction. The noise leads my eyes to the spot where Mr. Welf and an orc are preparing for combat. 

“Now that’s speed…” 

Welf muttered under his breath. 

He caught flashes of Bell’s attacks out of the corner of his eye. 

Bell’s movements, reflexes, attacks, and Magic were all extremely fast to his eyes. 

While he didn’t know where it came from, Welf realized why Bell had been described as a “rabbit.” 

“Heh-heh-heh, don’t get flattened into a pancake by getting distracted. Mr. Bell will be very sad.” 

“Li’l E, I’ve figured you out.” 

Welf responded to Lilly’s words and gave a big nod to the girl directly behind him. 

He didn’t turn around to face her, the reason being there was a large orc howling an ugly howl and charging right for them. It would be on top of them in moments. 

Noticing Bell’s gaze, Welf flipped up his chin and grinned as if to say, “Quit checking on me.” 

“All righty, then. Big piggy number two.” 

His back to the body of the first orc that lay motionless next to Lilly, Welf swung his longsword up to rest on his shoulder. 

“OOoooOOOOO!!” 

Slam, slam, slam! The orc took clumsy but powerful strides as it advanced. 

The edges of Welf’s mouth curled upward as he took a few bold steps toward the monster. 

“BUGURUAAA!!” 

Seeing that its prey was in range, the empty-handed orc swung its meaty arm forward with all of its might. 

Welf ducked under the reckless sideswipe without any hesitation. 

Squatting as low as possible, left hand on the ground and right hand holding his sword against his right shoulder, Welf had the eyes of a beast not unlike the one he was about to strike. 

Seeing an opening the moment the massive arm passed by him, Welf sprang forward and swung his thick blade at his target. 

“—RAAA!” 

The sound of steel through flesh. The blade hit its mark, slicing straight through the orc’s exposed stomach. 

A dark greenish blood spraying from its wound, the sheer force of the blow threw the monster off-balance. It fell backward, slamming its head against the dirt. 

“How’d you like that!” 

Welf ran forward and jumped to the side of the orc’s head. 

Grabbing hold of his longsword with both hands, Welf’s unblinking eyes locked onto the monster’s neck before he brought the weapon down in one fell swoop. 

SHING-THUD! The sound of the impact reverberated throughout the room. 

“Li’l E! Next!” 

“Already here!” 

Leaving the headless monster behind, Welf turned in the direction that Lilly was pointing. 

What greeted his eyes was the silhouette of another orc—this one carrying a landform tree club in its right hand. The beast was already dashing toward them. Welf clicked his tongue in frustration, but with his usual smirk still on his face. 

“Well, isn’t that a pain in the ass!” 

“Lilly is aware!” 

Lilly circled around the dead bodies on the ground to get a different angle on the new orc. 

She reached inside the sleeve of her robe and withdrew a bowgun, taking aim with her slender arms. 

PING! Her golden arrow pierced the beast’s shoulder. 

“!” 

The orc stopped in its tracks to nurse its injured shoulder. The eyes of its pig head narrowed, forgetting its original target—Welf—and finding a new one: Lilly. 

There was a momentary pause. 

Seeing an opportunity to attack the distracted orc, Welf took a step forward and planted his left foot firmly into the dirt. 

His black coat rustling like smoke in the wind, Welf’s boot carved a new divot into the dungeon floor as he took another step forward. 

“EAT THIS!” 

The blade that had been resting on his shoulder carved a massive arc through the air. 

All of the strength Welf possessed was focused through his right arm and into this single strike. It slammed into the monster’s body at full force. 

The longsword hit the orc with enough force to slice it clean in half. The orc’s body flinched, but it was unable to cry out in pain due to the blood spewing from its mouth. The beast’s bloodshot eyes caught one last glimpse of its attacker before its body dissolved into ash on the spot. 

Welf’s attack had cut through and destroyed the magic stone buried deep in the monster’s chest. 

“Mr. Crozzo, we’re going to have a problem if you keep breaking magic stones! Mr. Bell and Lilly will make less money!” 

“What’s done is done. Can’t be helped. Oh, and don’t call me that.” 

He turned to face the girl who stood a good distance away with a slightly annoyed look on his face. She was always complaining about something. 

“And what about my share, huh?” Welf retorted with a verbal jab at the prum. 

Only specs of purplish ash remained on the grassy dungeon floor. 

“…Mr. Crozzo!” 

“What did I just say about that na—ahh…” 

Just when Welf opened his mouth to yell at her, he realized why Lilly had screamed in the first place. 

Two new monsters, smaller than orcs, had quietly snuck up behind Welf. 

“Silverbacks.” 

Muscular bodies covered in thick white fur, these monsters looked like massive wild gorillas. Their name came from a silver mane around their necks and the thick stripe of silver fur running all the way down their backs. The fur on their lower backs was long enough to look like a short silver tail. 

Not too long ago, Bell fought one of these beasts during Monster-philia. Along with the Hard Armoreds, they made the lower eleventh floor of the Dungeon an extremely dangerous place for Level 1 adventurers. While they didn’t have the orc’s size, they more than made up for it with power and agility. Fangs bared and muscles bulging, there was only one way to describe them: strong. 

Welf turned to face these new attackers when suddenly, THUMP. A third silverback jumped down from a particularly large dead tree and landed between him and Lilly. 

“…” 

“Geeeh……” 

“Shit,” he spat almost like a reflex. 

They were ganging up on him. This was one situation that adventurers want to avoid at all costs in the Dungeon. 

Fantastic…Like I’m solo all over again. 

Feeling the sweat dripping down his brow, Welf took a defensive stance and looked at all three beasts in turn. 

After being left out of other battle parties, he had equipped himself with as many potions as he could carry and ventured out into the lower tenth on his own…All the moments when he nearly died flashed before his eyes as he stared down the silverbacks. 

I have to run, now…Dammit, I’m pinned down! 

His body getting impatient as the monsters started closing in, Welf’s mind raced to find an escape route. 

He estimated as he sized up his opponents that he was slightly more powerful than one silverback. However, that meant the moment he engaged one in combat, he would be wide open for the others to attack from behind. Catching a glimpse of Lilly’s startled face, he knew in an instant he couldn’t count on the supporter for any help. 

I’m toast, was the only conclusion he could come up with, but Welf chose to ignore it. Swinging his longsword in a wide arc, he brought it to rest on his shoulder before taking a step toward the closest silverback. 

He decided to break through a point of their net. A strange pinging sound filled his ears. He would never get used to the tension that came from being surrounded by enemies in the Dungeon, no matter how many times it happened. He braced his body for battle. 

A perilous ambience surrounded them. 

The silverback Welf was staring down glared right back at him, its eyes glistening in anticipation. 

The monsters made their move as one. 

A heartbeat later… 

“—One, two, anddd!!” 

“GehGOOH?!” 

“?!” 

Something incredibly forceful flew in from outside the net. 

Bell had launched himself like a javelin, his fearsome kick catching the jaw of one of the silverbacks. Caught completely off guard, the beast’s head spun to a gruesome angle as it plowed into another silverback. 

Welf and the other beasts stood in stunned silence at the sudden turn of events. Bell, however, drew his dagger from its sheath while still in midair. 

“Mr. Welf!” 

Ruby-red eyes meeting his gaze, Welf realized it was about to happen. 

He leaned back as quickly as he could to get out of the way. 

Not wasting any movement or momentum, Bell threw the dagger in his right hand with all of his might. 

“GEH?!” 

“—!!” 

The dagger whizzed past Welf’s face and straight into the eye of the silverback behind him. 

The beast reared back, screaming in pain. Taking that as his cue, Welf spun in place as he brought his own blade to bear. 

The longsword cut a deep gash into the monster’s body. 

“…” 

The limp monster fell to its knees. Welf had come to a stop, blade still at the top of its cutting arc. Keeping the same pose, he looked back over his shoulder toward Bell. 

Bell had just slain the second silverback and stood over their bloody, motionless bodies. 

Welf stared at Bell’s back for a moment before grinning and returning his sword to his shoulder. 

“I could really get used to this battle-party thing.” 

The white-haired boy turned toward him, nodding in agreement with a big smile on his face. 

“You are one fast dude, you know that? I didn’t even see you fly in.” 

“I-I’m not exactly sure when I did myself…” 

Our battle against the monster party finally over, the three of us are now taking a short break. 

We’re still in the same room on the lower eleventh floor. The aftermath of our skirmish is scattered all around. Uprooted dead trees, divots in the ground, ash left behind by monsters’ bodies, even pieces of the dungeon wall are everywhere I look. It’s an absolute mess in here. 

Mr. Welf’s longsword is back in its sheath and strapped to his back. He’s standing next to me with his arms folded across his chest as we talk about what just happened. 

“This dungeon-crawling thing sure is easier when you’ve got a strong ally with you. ’Course I can’t rely on you always saving my ass.” 

“I have a feeling that I didn’t slay as many monsters as I usually do.” 

“That’s the good thing about being in a battle party. Your mind and body don’t have to work as hard, and you’re free to move however you want. Your allies cover your blind side.” 

Mr. Welf is making some good points. Since he has more experience working in the Dungeon with a party than I do, I’m listening to every word. 

“I thought we did pretty well, considering today’s our first day as a group. We’re not exactly reading each other’s minds, but our movements meshed…That’s all thanks to Li’l E.” 

“Thanks to Lilly?” 

“Yeah. Her actions seem minor, but she had a big influence. Alerting us to new monsters, keeping us from running into each other, she did a great job coordinating us.” 

While that is a strange way to say it, simply put, Lilly was guiding us. 

It might be better to say she was steering us in the right direction. She could see the whole battlefield from her vantage point, so she knew exactly when and how to assist us. That included keeping us apart. 

I hear Mr. Welf say, “She knows how adventurers move.” 

I slowly nod as his words click and say, “Ah, that makes sense.” Considering all of Lilly’s experience as a supporter and as a thief, I bet she knows the way adventurers think like the back of her hand. 

“She really is something else, Li’l E.” 

“It’s times like these when you really can’t think of anything bad to say about supporters…” 

“You can say that again,” replies Mr. Welf as he looks over his shoulder at Lilly. She’s in a deeper corner of the room, collecting magic stones and drop items with amazing speed and efficiency. 

The two of us had slain a lot of monsters, so naturally there was a lot of work to be done. We offered to help, but she turned us away immediately. “This is Lilly’s job, rest while there’s time,” she had said as she pushed us away from the monsters’ remains. 

She said she wanted to do her share. 

“Well, whadda you know, we’ve got even more company. Should we head somewhere else?” 

“Hmm, we could do that…” 

There are a few groups of adventurers in the room now who weren’t here when we arrived. 

Many adventurers pass through here, since this room connects to the floor above. Quite a few battle parties use this room as a staging area because there’s no fog. Needless to say, it’s difficult to find any monsters to slay in this spot. 

It would be miserable to have to compete with them for loot, and even worse to have something happen that causes problems between Familias. Actually, there were a few parties that edged around the room while we were in combat. It’s an unwritten rule among adventurers: We stay out of one another’s way as much as possible while in the Dungeon. 

…Now that I think about it, Lilly was the first one to realize that other adventurers were here. She immediately gathered the bodies of slain monsters in one spot to protect our loot. Kind of like, “These are ours, don’t get any ideas.” 

I don’t know if she’s just got an eye for details, but that’s something that only an experienced supporter can do for their party. 

“…Since we’re already here, why don’t we eat lunch? There are a lot of people in here, so we shouldn’t need to worry about monsters sneaking up on us.” 

“Good point. Plus, it’d be a real pain to give up this spot. Let’s take advantage of the situation. Lunch sounds good.” 

His reasoning sounds a bit pushy, but at least he agrees with me. 

We’ll start eating as soon as Lilly gets back. 

All these people…I know it’s the lower eleventh, but each party looks insanely powerful… 

Even the air around each group exudes strength and experience. 

The same goes for their armor and weapons. Sharp, sturdy…The list of words that comes to my mind just looking at them goes on and on. 

An animal person with a robust bow strapped to his back, an Amazon leaning on a particularly large battle ax, a majestic elf wearing a silver white cloak and carrying a staff…They’re a mix of races of humans and demi-humans, with a few interesting quirks. 

How many of them have leveled up…? 

By and large, the parties that crawl the eleventh and twelfth floors are preparing to venture forth into the middle levels. So there have to be quite a few Level 2 adventurers in here right now. 

…Am I really on par with any of these people? 

I’m Level 2, so we’re equal at least on paper…but looking at the huge muscles on that dwarf makes me want to make myself as small as possible. My goal is much, much higher, so it’s not a good sign that I’m getting intimidated so easily. 

I’m sure all of them have some impressive Magic and Skills… 

Wait a minute, I have a Skill, too… 

Can’t believe it took me this long to remember that I learned one, too. 

“Heroic Desire, Argonaut.” I completely forgot about it up until now, so I wasn’t exactly trying to test it out… 

I fought like normal, nothing strange happened…did it? 

I’m faster and stronger than before, but that’s because I leveled up. I don’t think a Skill will have any effect on that. 

“Active Action. Choose to move. Attack, not counterattack.” 

I tilt my head to the side as I remember the goddess’s words. “Hmmm…” 

I have no idea what she was talking about. Choosing to move, attacking and all that…That’s normal to me. And yet nothing unusual has happened. Maybe it takes more than movement to trigger it? 

Magic needs spells to activate, so maybe this Skill does, too? 

How did I… 

…Learn a skill called Argonaut in the first place? 

Because I leveled up? 

Because I slew that monster, the Minotaur? 

Because I wished from the bottom of my heart that Aiz wouldn’t see me in another embarrassing situation? 

…At that moment, I… 

I want to be— 

“—a hero!” 

That’s what I wished for. 

“…” 

Just like the heroes in fairy tales. 

Just like the men who could face down powerful enemies without fear. 

Just like the women who risk everything to save lives. 

To become that, to be one step closer, that was my desire. 

Heroic desire. 

“…Hey, Bell. What’s that?” 

“!” 

A voice drags me out of the depths of my memories and back into the present in the blink of an eye. 

Welf is standing in front of me, eyebrows cocked in confusion. 

I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, but I follow his gaze to my right arm first. 

Small specs of light are shimmering around my arm. 

“…Eh?” 

My eyes go wide as a dumbfounded sound rolls off my tongue. 

The small lights are spinning around my forearm, their white light softly pulsing. 

The lights are smaller than a snowflake, about the size of a grain of sand. They disappear as they rotate toward my arm, only for new ones to appear in their place in an endless cycle. 

Sparkle, converge, dim, and repeat. 

It’s as if my arm is stuck in a whirlpool of sparkling white light. 

Ping, ping. The lights are making sounds as they glisten. 

All like little chimes. 

“…” 

“…” 

Mr. Welf and I look at each other. 

He looks just as surprised and confused as I am. I don’t think I could give him any answers even if he asked me. 

What…what is this…? 

My eyes are focused so hard on my right hand, and I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen off yet. 

I can see Mr. Welf’s gaze going from my face to my arm over and over again. Just as he’s opening his mouth to speak—it happens. 

“—oooOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” 

A ferocious roar stampedes through the room, making my ears scream in pain. 

“?!” 

Mr. Welf and I flip around to look in that direction. No, not just us. Every other person in the room is looking that way, their eyes wide with terror. 

It’s in the room’s entrance. Amber-colored scales emerge from the fog flowing in from the next room. 

Not only scales, there is a long tail, sharp claws, and a ton of fangs as well. 

It’s only about 150 celch at its tallest, but it looks like it’s more than 4 meders long—a small dragon. 

“An infant dragon…?!” 

The voice of an adventurer I’ve never met rings out. 

This four-legged beast is a species of dragon, said to be the most powerful type of all the monsters in the Dungeon. While it doesn’t have wings, its muscular body is covered in thick amber scales. I can tell just by looking at this thing that it has the potential to overpower an orc. Its head twists from side to side as it scans the room with red eyes the size of dinner plates. 

Infant dragon. 

It’s a rare monster that only appears on the lower eleventh and twelfth floors of the Dungeon. 

Considering that only four or five of these things roam the Dungeon at a time, it takes a considerable amount of luck to encounter one of them. Then again, infant dragons have annihilated entire parties of Level 1 adventurers. So they weren’t all that lucky… 

There is no “Monster Rex” on these floors, so it’s safe to say that infant dragons are the bosses of the upper levels. 

“—!!” 

The dragon springs into action the instant the man screams, as though the cry is an opening bell. Flinging its long tail around like a whip, it hits an elf who happened to be close by and sends him flying. He slams into a wall in a heartbeat, eyes wide. He falls to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut, head limp. A chorus of new screams erupts throughout the room a second later. 

It may not be as strong as that Minotaur, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this beast is also categorized as Level 2. Now is the time to ignore the adventurers’ unwritten law, and everyone else realizes it. All battle parties act as one. Numerous spell incantations start as Amazons and dwarves charge forward with swords and axes drawn. 

“Li’l E! GET OUT OF THERE!!” 

Mr. Welf’s scream cuts through the chaos. 

Even in my state of stunned silence, I can see everything unfold in front of me. 

The dragon is charging toward Lilly, who is still in the corner of the room collecting magic stones. 

I see her stand and turn to face the monster. Suddenly, my body starts moving on its own. 

My still-sparkling right arm thrusts forward as the muscles in my throat tighten to yell: 

“FIREBOLT!!” 

Half a moment later. 

Everything goes silent. 

“—” 

A beam of pure white light. 

The entire room is bathed in a flash as a sound rivaling the dragon’s roar rings in my ears. 

Flaming bolts of lightning explode from within the white light surrounding my right arm. Firebolt. 

But it’s completely different. The usual scarlet bolts of my Magic are surrounded by white shards of light and are so thick that they could swallow a person whole. The flames are headed toward the infant dragon. 

Engulfing the beast in plasma, the Firebolt continues past the dragon and smashes into the wall beyond. 

A massive explosion. 

“…GAH, ahh…” 

Those amber scales that looked so sturdy a moment ago flake off like ash in the wind. 

The infant dragon leaves behind a soft moan of pain before collapsing to the ground, a victim of the electric inferno. I’ve heard that dragons have a natural resistance to flame, but its exposed skin is burning away amid the smoldering remains of everything around it. 

All that’s left in the corner of the room now is the burned remains of the dragon dissolving into the air. The wall that took the blast is heavily damaged. Covered in cracks, more and more pieces fall to the ground every moment. 

CRICK CRASH! A large segment collapses to the floor like an afterthought. 

“…” 

An uneasy stillness descends on the room. 

All of the other adventurers have stopped moving and are looking at me. Lilly and Mr. Welf, too. 

Shock, shudders, and…hostility. I don’t react to any of the emotions being slung at me. Coming back to myself, I pull my right arm down and toward my chest. The glimmering specks of light are gone, and my arm looks like nothing ever happened. 

“……oww.” 

I push my head through the opening in my shirt. Every part of my body aches, and every movement is painful. 

Now fully dressed, I open the door and leave the shower room. 

The goddess, already changed, is sitting on the purple sofa. 

“Bell, if you’re tired, go ahead and get some rest. I can make dinner on my own.” 

“No, I’m fine. I’ll help!” 

“Heh-heh, is that so? All right, we’ll make it together.” 

It’s been a long day at work and a very long day of dungeon crawling. Both of us were late getting home that night, so I don’t want her to do everything by herself. It’s already late evening. 

We do most things around our home together as much as possible; I know that’s what the goddess wants. I shouldn’t let her do so much, but every time I try to do something on my own, she always says something like, “Aren’t we in this together, Bell?” 

But in the end, it really does feel strange… 

“…Um, Bell? Can I ask you something?” 

“What is it?” 

I’ve just started washing vegetables in our small excuse for a kitchen when the goddess, who was cutting meat, suddenly asks me a question. 

I turn to face her, our eyes level because she’s standing on a small stool. 

“Have you ever met Freya…Ah, a silver-haired goddess?” 

“A goddess with silver hair? No, I don’t think I have…” 

I think hard as I answer. 

I can count the number of times I’ve seen goddesses other than Lady Hestia since I came to Orario on one hand. I should be able to remember if any of them had silver hair. 

“Hmm, yes, I suppose that’s right…” 

The goddess mumbles as she looks toward the ceiling. Did something happen? 

I feel like the goddess has had her head on a swivel ever since the Denatus ended. I’ve asked her about it a few times, but all she does is shake her head and say, “Nope, it’s nothing at all.” 

I’m a little worried about it, but I’ve got food to make. In what feels like no time at all, everything is ready and I’m sitting at the table with the goddess. 

“Ohh? So then, that smith is a good one?” 

“Yes. He’s very open about what he’s thinking and I feel like I can depend on him. I’m a little bit concerned about him and Lilly, though. I don’t think they like each other too much…” 

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” 

I laugh with the goddess in the late evening hours while we eat dinner. 

Recently, our dinners have gotten a lot fancier. There’s a lot less of the most basic food, anyway. 

It’s normal for us to each have a slice of bread, and typical to have pieces of meat mixed in with our salad, and it’s become our tradition to have a small mountain of crispy potato puffs in the evening. 

It didn’t take much time to get to this point, but it feels like it did. Dirt-poor, that’s what we were a little more than a month ago. I’m pretty sure we’ve escaped that label by now. 

“Well, if he’s that kind of person, I don’t see a problem. I’m all for it and I’ll raise a glass to him. You better not let him get away, Bell.” 

“I think so, too. Mr. Welf is a smith and with him around, we can make a three-man cell. I’ve heard it’s much safer to crawl the Dungeon with three! I’d like him to stick around for a long time, but…” 

“You should make sure he stays. It’s much too dangerous for you and the supporter to be alone in the Dungeon. Much, much too dangerous.” 

A refreshing smile grows on the goddess’s lips when I eagerly nod in agreement. 

Even the goddess’s twin black ponytails look like they’re in a good mood, swinging back and forth like that. She must’ve been really worried about us. 

It’s also become a routine by this point, but I’ve been telling the goddess about everything that happened that day. 

First, I told her about Mr. Welf. I told her about the direct contract and all that yesterday, so today I tell her about my impressions of him as a party member. 

“I still can’t believe that you would form a battle party with one of Hephaistos’s group members…hee-hee, maybe it was fate, since you entered my Familia.” 

The goddess grins from ear to ear. 

Lady Hestia and Lady Hephaistos have spent a lot of time together, dating back to their days in Tenkai, so it makes sense that they would be friends down here on Earth. However, I’ve heard that a lot happened in the time between coming to Orario and before the goddess started this Familia. Now it’s difficult for them to casually meet up anymore. 

The goddess seems to find this unbreakable bond rather amusing. She’s giggling hard enough to make her shoulders shake. 

“…Um, Goddess? Mr. Welf’s last name is Crozzo. Have you heard anything about them?” 

Seeing an opening, I decide to ask her what has been on my mind since earlier today. 

Lilly’s story about the Crozzo family and magic swords. 

I feel a little bad about looking into his family history behind his back, but I’m unable to control my curiosity. 

“Crozzo’s Magic Swords, right…? I’ve heard a little about them, too, but…I don’t think I know any more about them than you do, Bell.” 

“I see…” 

I’ve heard that the goddess hasn’t been on Earth very long. It can’t be helped that she knows about as much as I do concerning what happened on Gekai—Earth—long ago. 

Looks like Mr. Welf is going to remain a mystery for a while…… 

“…While I don’t know much about the Crozzo family, I might have heard a few things about the smith, Welf Crozzo.” 

“Huh?” 

“Hee-hee-hee. Bell, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten where I work?” 

OH! So that’s what she’s talking about. 

The goddess works for a shop owned by Hephaistos Familia, the same Familia that Mr. Welf belongs to. I’m sure just by working there, she’s heard a few things about him. 

“So how about it, Bell!” she says, puffing out her generous chest a little too much. I respond with a quick “Please” as my face turns red. It takes everything I have to force a smile so that the goddess will start talking. 

Apparently, when she heard Mr. Welf’s name yesterday, she started collecting information on her own. 

“He’s actually a pretty good smith. The boy’s still got a lot of growing to do, but Hephaistos talks about him all the time. I’m sure of that.” 

“L-Lady Hephaistos talks about Mr. Welf?” 

“Yep. I heard this when she was drunk, but that boy has a lot of hidden talent, and he could be so much more.” 

To think that in a Familia known for highly skilled smiths, Lady Hephaistos would take note of Mr. Welf. Is he some kind of prodigy within the Familia? 

“Oh, Hephaistos has an eye on him, all right. She’s given him a once-over and found that he has a special glow about him…But, she did say that he’s quite a disappointment, in terms of sensibility.” 

“…” 

“Pyonkichi,” the name of my armor, quickly comes to mind. 

By the way, my current armor was given the same name as its predecessor. The current model is the MK-III. 

“And now the juicy part. Hephaistos is extremely harsh on him inside the Familia, completely the opposite of how she talked about him when drunk.” 

“Huh? What do you mean?” 

That was completely out of the blue. I ask her for more information and she nods with a soft “Sure. 

“To get straight to the point, he can already make magic swords.” 

“…!” 

“Not some cheap imitation, but the real thing. He can produce magic swords that are strong enough to outdo the work of the High Smiths inside Hephaistos Familia. Magic swords worthy of the name Crozzo.” 

—Magic swordsmiths. 

I’ve heard those words before. I take a moment to chew things over in my head. 

“But, wait a minute…That can’t be right. Smiths can’t make magic swords without the Advanced Ability Forge…right?” 

That’s it. Eina told me as much on the day that we first visited that Hephaistos Familia shop in Babel Tower. I’m sure of it. 

Only high-level smiths who have mastered the Forge ability to a certain degree can make them. 

“Even I don’t know the reason why, but he can. Hephaistos herself confirmed it.” 

“That means…” 

“Yeah, the Crozzo family is the real deal. And he has their blood running through his veins.” 

I feel like my brain just hit a wall. 

Mr. Welf really is a member of a noble family of smiths that fell into ruin. 

And he really can make magic swords without the ability Forge. 

…A Skill? 

That’s the only thing that comes to mind. Maybe he has some special Skill that allows him to make that kind of weapon without Forge. 

Then again, Lilly said that the Crozzo family could all make magic swords…Did they all have the same Skill? 

Hmmm, that seems a bit…I rub the sides of my head. 

It’s no use. Random guesses aren’t going to solve anything. 

Doing my best to cool off the burning questions within me, I focus on the goddess’s story. 

“However, he doesn’t make them.” 

“…eh?” 

“For some reason, he doesn’t even try. If he did, his name would be famous and clients would be knocking at his door, but he doesn’t. He’s so stubborn that he’s turned down a chair at the High Smiths’ table.” 

He can make magic swords, but he refuses? 

A blade with the ability to unleash magic—or something very similar—with just one swing is extremely strong. While they do have a limit, magic swords make it possible for anyone to wield the blessing of Magic. It’s as easy as swinging your arm. 

That kind of weapon can save hundreds of lives. 

Not to mention the money he would earn, all the customers he would have, if he would just make them. 

Despite all that, Mr. Welf doesn’t want to…? 

“He’s referred to as the ‘Rotten Treasure’ at the shop I’m working at. Members of his own Familia call him ‘Crozzo the Defective’ and other kinds of cruel names.” 

The goddess goes on to say that no one ever says these things publicly. 

…People understand these kinds of things without hearing them directly. 

“Rotten Treasure”…A shop would say that, thinking about all the money they could be making. As for the members of his Familia—they’re smiths just like Mr. Welf, and they’re very jealous. 

He has the potential to easily join the High Smiths and make all the money he wants just because he’s a descendant of the Crozzo family. 

I can see why he’s always left out of their battle parties. 

“He has the ability, but for some reason…That’s the smith you signed a direct contract with, Bell.” 

“…” 

He has a reason… 

It’s probably the reason why Mr. Welf never told me he could make magic swords. 

No one tells their secrets to a person they just met two days earlier, so I’m sure that Mr. Welf wasn’t trying to hide anything. 

Thinking back to how he reacted when Lilly was talking earlier today, it makes a lot more sense now. 

“Bell, you have to be able to accept a secret or two with a smile. Even the gods have things they don’t want others to know. Please welcome him with open arms.” 

“Goddess…” 

She speaks with a very soothing tone in her voice, like she’s watching over me, guiding me. 

Both of her elbows are on the table, her head in her hands as her eyes meet mine. My shoulders relax and a smile grows on my face before I know it. 

The goddess giggles at my weird expression. 

“We’ve been talking quite a while. We should dig in to dinner. Or is there something else you’d like to talk to me about?” 

The goddess asks me with her eyes on our already cold dinner. I think about it for a moment, and I decide to ask one last thing. 

About that Skill. 

“So, you activated it? That Skill of yours.” 

“Yes…” 

I tell her that it came to life when I thought about the people I admire, heroes. 

It starts with tiny specks of white light swirling around a part of my body. Then, incredible power is unleashed from that spot…That’s the effect of Active Action: My strength flies off the charts. 

More than likely, it needs to charge before releasing energy. 

I tell the goddess everything I can think of about my Skill, based on what happened today. 

“…Bell, would you stand up for a moment and show me your Status?” 

“Ah, yes, sure.” 

Her serious gaze catches me off guard. 

Plunk. The goddess hops off her chair and walks over to me as I take off my undershirt. 

I turn my back to her and feel her eyes skimming the hieroglyphs on my skin. 

“…Hmmm.” 

Her warm fingertips graze over my back. 

Then her fingers come to a sudden stop. The hieroglyphs under her soft hand start to heat up. 

I shouldn’t be able to see them, but for some reason it feels like the symbols are written inside my head. 

Not just symbols…The story of “Argonaut” written on one massive stone tablet. 

“That’s enough.” 

I slowly turn around. 

The goddess picks up my undershirt that was draped over the chair and hands it to me. 

“I’m going to go ahead and give you my personal assessment. That Skill is the power to turn the tables.” 

That’s what she tells me. 

Her arm is still outstretched, her voice so quiet I have to focus to hear her. 

“It gives you the power to defeat enemies stronger than you are…The ability to come back from the most hopeless of situations. At the very least, it gives you the capacity to do so.” 

I can see my reflection in the goddess’s large, mystical eyes. 

“This Skill is a key that only children obsessed with being a hero can receive—a key that unlocks the hero within you.” 

—Argonaut. 

A story about a boy who aspired to be a hero. 

And the path he took, his head in the clouds. 

The path to heroism. 

“When you bet everything on one strike, this Skill drastically increases your strength. Even in the face of overwhelming odds, it gives you a chance to punch through and turn the tide.” 

Just as heroes have done many times before. 

The goddess adds one last thing. 

“You’ve acquired a ‘heroic strike.’” 

With those words, the entire room falls silent. 

It takes me a few moments to realize that our eyes are locked on each other. I only notice that we’re looking deep into each other’s eyes when the goddess hits my shoulder a few times with my shirt. 

I grab it and ram my head through, my ears turning bright red. I can still feel her watching me as I wiggle and squirm my way back into my clothes. 

Then she smiles. 

But I’ve never seen her smile like this before. It’s like she’s looking down from a place far away, a place that I can’t reach. 

A smile that a loving angel sends down to the child she’s protecting from high above the clouds. 

This is the first time. 

The first time the goddess has taken away my senses and robbed me of my thoughts. 

I stand in awe of her, in complete silence, as I hear her say, “Remember this well.” 

“GWAAARRRRRAAAAAHHHHH!!” 

A ferocious roar echoed. 

A shockingly swift kick hit a silent monster square in the face, shattering its skull. 

Long, golden boots were splattered with fresh blood. Despite delivering the finishing blow to hundreds of monsters up to this point and being covered in molten lava, their golden sheen has not diminished in the slightest. 

These metal boots were not designed to protect the feet of the wearer. They were weapons, plain and simple. Tearing through the air with extreme velocity, they mow down everything in their path. 

“Out of the way, Bete! It’s not my fault if you get smashed to a pulp!” 

“Who the hell would get hit by a crappy weapon like that?!” 

“Tione! Wolf soup for dinner tonight! Eww! Nasty!” 

“I’ll frickin’ kill you!” 

“…Idiots.” 

The forty-fourth floor. 

A stage of the Dungeon’s lower levels filled with sweltering heat. 

The crimson floor looked like it was always burning, with oddly shaped rocks jutting out all over the place. There were many cracks in the scorched walls, white-gray ash peeling off the Dungeon itself. A deep red light glowed from within the cracks, as if something inside was ready to burst forth. 

Loki Familia’s expedition was in full swing, with several adventurers having engaged a group of monsters called Flaming Rocks in combat within what looked like the belly of a volcano. 

“What’s got their britches in a bunch?” 

“Gareth.” 

A surprised but low, growling voice reached the ears of Loki Familia’s field general, Finn. 

A dwarf walked up to him from behind. 

A long beard flowed over his thick chest plate; muscles like steel bulged out from between the gaps in his imposing armor. A cape around his back, spinning an enormous ax lightly in his hand, the dwarf exuded a powerful warrior’s aura. 

The dwarf called Gareth watched in amazement as Bete and the other adventurers recklessly charged down monster after monster. 

“Been pipin’ hot since the middle levels, ya hear? The other youngsters can’t grow like this. See there, Raul’s in dire straits.” 

“Hmm. I don’t like it much either, but there’s no stopping them now.” 

It wasn’t just Bete’s small group that was engaging the monsters right now. Many members of Loki Familia had joined the fray. Most of them were Level 3, so they had to be careful to avoid the attacks of the higher-level adventurers as well as the monsters. 

Bete, Tiona, Tione. The three of them slew more and more of the horde of monsters, taking the valuable excelia for themselves. Finn watched them from his vantage point on top of a large boulder, an exhausted look on his face as he sighed under his breath. 

“Even Tione’s inner monster’s breakin’ loose…Finn, what in blazes happened before our rendezvous?” 

One of the Amazonian twins, who usually behaved herself in Finn’s presence, had a frighteningly calm look in her eyes but a telling grin on her lips. Grasping her set of Kukri knives, she hacked and slashed her way through the enemy ranks as her glossy black hair danced violently in her wake. 

Gareth looked up at Finn—who was still standing on top of the boulder—through the eyeholes of his helmet. 

“They seem to have been inspired by an adventurer we ran into on our way down.” 

“Inspired, ya say? Anyone that good crawling the middle levels?” 

“No, the upper levels.” 

“The hell?” 

Loki Familia had followed the Guild’s requirements for expeditions by splitting the group into two teams. Gareth had been in charge of the second group. Most of Loki Familia’s firepower had been in the first group to clear a path for the latter, leaving him as the only top-class adventurer on his team. The two groups had met up at a predetermined point in the Dungeon. Therefore, Gareth didn’t know what Finn’s team had seen or experienced on their way down. 

The dwarf’s eyes went a little wider, his jaw slack in surprise. 

“I think something was pulling the strings, but a Minotaur appeared on the ninth floor. A Level One adventurer encountered and slew it.” 

“A Minotaur done in by a Level One? No, hold up there, how do y’know the laddie was Level One?” 

“The boy’s Status was exposed and it was confirmed. Well, so long as Reveria can still read hieroglyphs, that is.” 

“What’s this? Are you doubting my vision, Finn?” 

“Ahh, Reveria.” 

An elf walked up from behind them to join their conversation. 

Her long jade hair sparkled in the crimson light. Even in this heat, there wasn’t a bead of sweat anywhere on her silky white skin. 

She wore an elegant blue dress that flowed like water as she came to a stop next to Finn’s boulder. 

“Finn, I would prefer to wear a robe next time. This Undine-made dress takes far too long to put on.” 

“Hmm. After all that Loki went through to get it for you, you should be able to put up with a little hassle.” 

“Aye. Y’wear it well.” 

“Just thinking about those eyes undressing me makes me want to set this wretched thing ablaze right here and now…” 

The head of her Familia, Loki, had suddenly appeared a few days before the expedition and thrust this sheer blue dress at her and said, “Reveria, darlin’, wear this, won’cha, please?” Reveria had accepted the dress with a cold, hard stare. 

Finn and Gareth had similar blue garments under their armor as well. Just like Reveria, neither of them felt the heat on this floor. 

The material was enhanced with fairy magic and protected them from extreme temperatures. 

“Back to the matter at hand, one other person can confirm the adventurer’s level. Aiz also read Bell Cranell’s Status.” 

Hearing the name of the adventurer for the first time, Gareth raised his shoulders as he looked at Reveria, before turning his body to cast his gaze at the ever-silent Aiz. 

“…If what these ears have picked up be true, Aiz made for that monster like a moth to a flame. Or am I losing my wits?” 

“Hmmm. That’s very true. She’s been so quiet I nearly forgot.” 

“Oh, give her some space. She always returns to her usual self.” 

Finn looked down at Reveria with a very puzzled look, while the elf grimaced as she used her eyes to point something out to him. 

Aiz stood in her line of vision. The girl was staring at the ground as if deep in thought. 

She wore no particular expression, but every so often the group could hear a soft “Hmmmmm” coming from her direction. 

“I still think you’re puttin’ me on…The laddie that impressive? What’d ya think, seein’ ’im in action?” 

“He was rather brash and very inexperienced…But, then again, I can understand why Bete and the others can’t stand still. That boy reminded them that they are adventurers, just like him.” 

Finn’s golden hair swished from side to side as he looked at Gareth, an innocent smile on his childish face. Reveria nodded in agreement and opened her mouth to speak. 

“As leaders of this Familia, we have endured many battles but have become too accustomed to combat. The chance that one of us will fall is extremely slim. However, witnessing a life-or-death battle firsthand was…breathtaking.” 

“…Sounds like ya found somethin’ more precious than loot.” 

There was a twinge of remorse in his voice as Gareth stroked his mighty beard. 

The three highest-ranking members of Loki Familia, always so careful to avoid careless actions, looked on as their younger allies fought tooth and nail against the horde of monsters. 

“…Reveria.” 

“What is it, Aiz?” 

Reveria responded to the hushed voice as if she’d known it was coming. 

Aiz paused for a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. 

“How do you think someone…goes beyond the limits of Basic Abilities?” 

Gareth’s and Finn’s ears perked up, the question catching them off guard. 

However, Finn’s eyes narrowed a moment later as he realized what she was asking, and he cast his gaze on the young girl. 

“We are entering the realm of impossibility. While we can always try to hone our abilities, there’s no way to go beyond them.” 

Reveria answered Aiz’s question. 

Using herself as an example, she explained that as an elf and magic user, a Magic ability ranking of S was obtainable. On the other hand, the physical limits of her body made it futile to try to improve her Strength and Defense abilities beyond a certain point. Just as every person had their individual strengths and weaknesses, be they mental or physical, the abilities of adventurers worked in the same way. There was a ceiling. 

She finished her speech by saying that it was extremely difficult to maintain peak condition, but no one was able to go beyond the limits of a Status set by the gods. 

“Do not concern yourself with such ridiculous ideas, Aiz. The absolute strongest we can become is determined by our Level.” 

“…Okay.” 

The girl once again fell silent under Reveria’s harsh gaze. 

Aiz took a step back, as if her mind had left her body for a moment—before she drew her saber. 

The blade that emerged from her sheath whizzed around her, slicing through the heat with a crisp swish. 

The others watched as she turned on her heel and stepped toward the battlefield. 

“…Hey, Reveria.” 

“It’s useless. Her spirit has been ignited.” 

Reveria sighed like a mother who had been putting up with her children too long, as she answered the dwarf standing beside her. 

Aiz stepped forward with more and more resolve as she set a course for Bete’s battle party. Her blond hair danced in the heat, but her golden eyes didn’t waver from her target. Her expression was cold as ice, but her soul was on fire. 

This was the other face of Aiz Wallenstein. 

This was the Senki, the Princess of the Battlefield, as she had been called. 

Summoning up all the power within her, she charged into combat. 

…Stronger, I can get stronger. 

The Dungeon’s heat the least of her worries, Aiz’s new target wasn’t a monster but an impossibility. 

She had seen with her own eyes the boy who broke the limits. His image was still burning in her soul. 

Early morning. 

The sun is just now peeking over the upper rim of the wall that surrounds the city. 

Syr catches my attention in front of The Benevolent Mistress as I’m on my way to the Dungeon. 

“I’m so sorry, can you wait just a little longer? Something went wrong when I was cooking this morning…” 

“Um, Syr, you don’t have to worry about it…You always give me a lunch, so one day isn’t a big deal…” 

“No, I will finish it! So please, take it with you!” 

Shoop. I can almost hear her muscles tighten as her face becomes more and more frightening. “S-sure…” I say with a quick nod. I’m too scared to do anything else. Suddenly, her cheeks blush like she’s shy and she runs back into the bar. 

She makes a lunch for me every day. Sounds like something didn’t go according to plan this morning. Normally she’s very hard to read, but today she seems to be in a great mood…Oh no, what’s going to show up in today’s lunch? I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about it. 

“Good morning to you, Mr. Cranell.” 

“Ah, Lyu. Good morning.” 

“I am deeply sorry for the lost time. Syr is working very hard…so please accept her lunch.” 

Just when I thought I’d be standing alone for a while, the front door opens with a creak. 

Lyu steps out from behind it and greets me. She’s trying to cover for Syr, so I tell her it’s not a problem at all and smile at her. 

She even put her duties as a Benevolent Mistress staff member on hold to talk with me for a little while. 

“So, you have successfully found another battle party member.” 

“At least temporarily, yes…” 

She asked me about finding another party member at our get-together the other night, so I start by telling her about what’s happened since. She’s wearing a white cardigan over her waitress uniform. After waiting for me to finish, Lyu asks me another question. 

“Mr. Cranell, is this person worthy of your trust?” 

“Eh? Well, um…” 

“My apologies, it was not my intention to accuse you of anything. Circumstances change when adventurers from different Familias form a battle party.” 

Lyu looks at me with her sky-blue eyes and explains that we will have to be conscious of more than just personal issues, but inter-Familial affairs as well. 

I know she’s just looking out for me. After all that she did to protect me from those other adventurers the other night, I’m sure that she wants to make sure the person I found is the right man for the job. 

I gather my thoughts to respond, Lyu’s sincerity making me feel all warm and fuzzy. 

“Since he’s a member of Hephaistos Familia, I don’t think there’s going to be a problem. Our goddesses are on good terms, too.” 

Hephaistos Familia is filled with smiths who make many personal contracts with many different adventurers, so they have a good reputation. I’ve heard horror stories about fighting between Familias that all started with a mixed battle party, but I don’t think that will be a problem with them. 

And I don’t have any complaints about Mr. Welf…But there is something. 

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking after talking with the goddess last night. I might as well see what Lyu has to say on the subject, so I tell her Mr. Welf’s full name and that he is a very talented smith. 

Wow, I really am talking behind his back a lot… 

“Crozzo…” 

She freezes in place after hearing Mr. Welf’s family name. The name practically fell from her lips. 

She normally doesn’t react to anything like this. It’s making me a little nervous. 

“D-do you know anything about him…?” 

“No, nothing about him personally…However, Crozzo is a name that is impossible for elves to ignore.” 

E-elves can’t ignore it? 

I never expected to get information about the Crozzo family here. 

“If you don’t mind, could you tell me why? I want to know as much about Mr. Welf as I can…” 

“…Very well. I would like to caution you that this is most likely not the information you’re seeking.” 

She jumps into her story after giving me that short disclaimer. 

“I believe you have heard about their magic swords, but are you familiar with where those blacksmiths resided?” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“A kingdom called Rakia. Of all the countries in the world, that kingdom is relatively close to Orario.” 

Rakia…I think I heard that name a few times in my hometown before coming to Orario. 

Things like “That country’s starting a war again,” or “They’re sending expeditions all over the place,” and others. 

“The country itself is governed by one god who declared himself king using his Familia. The Crozzo family offered their services in exchange for nobility. Those services were, of course, producing a large supply of magic swords.” 

Everything she said so far matches up with Lilly’s telling very well. I nod and Lyu continues. 

“Perhaps due to the fact that its ruler considered himself a god of war, Rakia was an extremely aggressive nation. That is still accurate to this day. Whenever a neighboring country or city shows weakness, Rakia moves to invade.” 

So the rumors are true… 

“Within that country’s long history of repetitive wars, the full power of Crozzo’s Magic Swords was unleashed many times.” 

She’s about to get to the point, I can feel it. I’m on the edge of my seat, or at least I would be if I were sitting down. 

“An army of common soldiers armed with magic swords—can you picture that, Mr. Cranell?” 

“…Don’t tell me they…” 

“You are correct. At that time, Rakia had a mobile inferno under its command. They didn’t bother with strategy or planning. They just annihilated everything in their wake with overwhelming firepower.” 

Victory after victory, undefeated and invincible, a god of war who couldn’t lose. 

She says that no one knew how to stop Rakia when it was blessed with magic swords. 

“Rakia was too aggressive. Their wars changed the very face of our world. Thus, prairies and cities alike were burned to ash, leaving nothing behind…And then their flames reached a forest inhabited by elves.” 

It’s said that humans and demi-humans and elves didn’t interact very much before the gods descended to this world. There are some very close-minded people around now who still don’t. 

The best examples are the elves. I’ve heard there is a group of them who are so proud that they absolutely hate interacting with other races. They’ve shut themselves off from the rest of the world in a forest somewhere. 

So basically, that means… 

“They were chased out of their home, those elves? The forest they lived in was destroyed by a war?” 

“They were smoked out, to be more precise. Their homeland went up in flames.” 

Their forest burned to the ground. 

I gulp down a mouthful of air once the meaning of those words hits home. 

Lyu finishes her story by saying that the surviving elves sought help from other gods. They joined Familias in the surrounding nations, received blessings, and took revenge on Rakia. 

Unfortunately for the kingdom, they no longer had magic swords in their arsenal. Lyu said that those elves got their retribution relatively easily. 

“Rakia’s soldiers spread devastation as if it was a game. For those on the receiving end of magic swords, hating the Crozzo family might be a case of misplaced anger…However, there are still many elves who haven’t gotten over the past.” 

“…” 

“So that is why the name Crozzo is impossible for elves to ignore.” 

“…What about you, Lyu?” 

“No, I harbor no ill will.” 

Her quick denial surprises me. 

I’ve heard that elves consider their entire race to be a family, filled with pride in themselves and one another. 

Lyu says that’s an exaggeration, and that her own homeland was not directly affected…I’m absolutely stunned. 

Of course, Syr—and the others as well—cares for me, but to think Lyu hasn’t known me very long at all, yet shares something like this and worries about me so much…She’s very important to me. 

“Be-ll! Sorry to keep you waiting!” 

“…It’s time. Mr. Cranell, please be careful in the Dungeon today.” 

“Ah, yes…” 

Lyu gives me a slight bow as Syr comes through the door. 

She goes back inside the bar without another word. I watch in silence as the door closes behind her. 

“I’m a little late…” 

I’m speed-walking my way through West Main. Morning bells ring out from the east as I make my way through an ever-growing crowd of people. Lilly and Mr. Welf are waiting for me at the base of Babel Tower. I have to get there as soon as possible. 

My feet are moving, but my thoughts are somewhere else entirely. I’m so wrapped up in what I just heard from Lyu that I don’t even notice a person walking right up to me. 

“Oh, this really is your route.” 

“Ah,” I say as everything comes into focus. It’s Mr. Welf, and he’s waving at me. 

Isn’t this strange? I told him we were meeting at the same place as yesterday…Did he want to meet me halfway? 

“Hey, Bell. Mornin’.” 

“Good morning. Umm…Mr. Welf, what are you doing out here?” 

“Got a message for you from Li’l E. She can’t join us for dungeon crawling today.” 

“Eh?” 

He explains that he was waiting at the base of Babel when a very animated Lilly rushed up to him. She said that on top of being busier than usual recently, the gnome she works for collapsed. She’s the only one around who can take care of him. Apparently she bowed enough times to make Mr. Welf dizzy watching her. 

Hearing that I always arrive from West Main, he decided to come out and meet me. 

“So, what do we do? Hit the Dungeon as a two-man cell?” 

“W-well, ummm…” 

We won’t be able to collect as many magic stones and drop items without Lilly with us. But if we don’t go into the Dungeon, I won’t have anything to do all day…I’d like to avoid that. 

Should I go grab my old backpack and gather stones and drop items, like I did back in my solo days? 

“…Bell. If you’ve got nothing else going on, can I have some of your time today?” 

“What?” 

I tilt my head to the side at his suggestion. 

The corner of his mouth rises in a grin; his hands wave from side to side. 

“I made you a promise, didn’t I? A full set of new equipment.” 

“Y-you know, Mr. Welf, I’m fine with just the light armor…” 

“No need for modesty. A smith never goes back on his word.” 

Mr. Welf is heading somewhere at a brisk pace and I’m doing my best to keep up. 

I know I already agreed to it, but the thought of receiving brand-new equipment for free makes me feel like I’m taking advantage of him…I feel kind of guilty. 

I try a few more times to decline the offer, but he just waves me off, saying, “Leave it to me.” I watch his black coat swish back and forth as we make our way up the street. 

“Bell, I don’t pretend to know everything, but you should go after the best stuff you can get. Adventurers never know if there’s a tomorrow. Because you don’t know what’s coming, you should always have the best weapons and armor on you at all times—right?” 

“Yeah…” 

He makes a very good point. I can’t help but agree. 

Everything is pointless if you die. I don’t know how many times Eina has said that. 

And I promised the goddess that I wouldn’t leave her alone. All things in moderation, but…the most important thing is not to make the big mistake, I guess. 

I think about it for a while, but in the end I decide to take Mr. Welf’s offer. 

The moment I say, “I’m looking forward to your work,” Mr. Welf grins from ear to ear and says, “Coming right up.” 

“Mr. Welf. Can I ask you where we’re going?” 

“My workshop.” 

Workshop? He must’ve looked over his shoulder and seen the confusion on my face, because Mr. Welf starts to explain. 

A workshop is where a smith creates armor and weapons. He says everything he needs to create my new equipment is already there: a forge, various metals and tools, etc. 

Apparently his Familia assigned him his own workshop…and that’s something special about being a member of Hephaistos Familia. 

“You mean everyone having their own workshop isn’t normal?” 

“Doubt it. It’d be much cheaper to have everyone use the same space; be more efficient, too.” 

“Then, why?” 

“So that other smiths don’t see your techniques. My way is only my way, yeah?” 

Must be an artisan thing…Or maybe it’s his pride as a smith? 

Members of his Familia are also his competition. That’s got to be one stressful working environment. 

“Don’t be thinking I’m doing something shady, now. Lady Hephaistos wanted it this way.” 

Laughing at his own joke, Mr. Welf starts to pick up speed. 

We’re moving along Northeast Main Street right now. 

Large and small shops on both sides of the street have awnings over their entrances. Shops selling tools and other items are all over the place, with not a bar to be seen. The people around here are wearing all kinds of different worker’s gear as they get ready to start the day. Only a few of them have Familia symbols on their clothes, so I guess most of them are free workers. I can see large, boxy buildings all over the place…I bet they’re factories. 

If I remember right, all of the magic-stone products that Orario is known for are made along Northeast Main. 

The Industrial District, that’s what it’s called. 

“We’re turning up there.” 

I’m distracted for a moment by a dwarf lumbering along the side of the street while carrying a massive tree trunk over his shoulder, but I follow Mr. Welf. 

Our path suddenly narrows as we turn off the main street. It’s still morning, but the sun’s rays have yet to reach this stone-paved side street. It’s quite cool back here. The brilliant blue stripe of sky above us is absolutely magnificent. 

All the buildings around here are made of stone as well. Just when I think we’re going to go all the way to the city wall, Mr. Welf comes to a stop. 

“Whoa…” 

After winding our way through so many back streets, here it is. 

A compact, one-story building stands in front of us. 

Burn marks and soot cover the stone walls, but this is the real thing! The aura of an actual forge oozes out of every inch of this place. A smokestack juts out of one corner of the roof. The whole building is rather charming. 

“You might already know, but this is the area most workers call home. Can’t walk two steps without seeing another workshop or factory. My Familia’s home is just around the corner.” 

Of course, this is all news to me. “Oh, I see,” I say, my head on a swivel as I take in all the sights. 

Mr. Welf’s workshop is quite a ways away from Main Street. This area reminds me a lot of my home, being a bit dark and out-of-the-way. 

Echoes of metal on metal ring out from every direction…I can feel the presence of other smiths already hard at work, as well as hear them. 

Above all, it sounds like Hephaistos Familia prepares a workshop for each of its members in this area. 

Each member is in charge of taking care of their own area…but still, it’s really generous. 

“What’re you standin’ around for? Come on in.” 

“Ah, sure.” 

I say a quiet thank-you as I follow Mr. Welf into his workshop. 

The first thing I notice is the strong smell of iron. Mr. Welf opens the shutters, bathing the dark room in the crisp morning light. 

A wide array of tools hanging on the wall starts glistening. Hammers, tongs, random utensils…A lot of them. I’ve never seen anything like any of these before. 

A large fireplace is nestled in the corner, behind a medium-height bench. Isn’t that thing called an anvil? 

There are no dividing walls in here, just one big space devoted to forging armor and weapons. 

Now this is a smith’s workshop. 

“Sorry, bit of a pigsty in here. Can you put up with it for a bit?” 

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine!” 

Actually, I want to see him in action…Starting to get excited, I take another look around the room. 

Mr. Welf pulls up a chair for me and motions for me to sit down. 

“For starters, I’m going to need your measurements. I can handle everything else on my own after that.” 

“You need my measurements?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be customizing the armor for you. Would be a shame if it didn’t fit just right, now wouldn’t it?” 

The armor sold in shops has to accommodate a wide range of body shapes and sizes, so there are always spots that aren’t snug or that stick out a little bit. Adventurers can make little adjustments themselves, but the ideal is to have armor and weapons made to fit perfectly. 

“I’m thinking ’bout making some greave-style shin guards. Any requests, Bell?” 

“Hmm, ummm…?” 

“If there’s a piece of equipment you’d like me to make, just say the word. Like maybe you feel naked without a shield, things like that…So yeah, if there’s an item you want, speak up. I’ll make anything for you.” 

Mr. Welf has his back to me, collecting various tools from the wall. 

Clink, clank. I hear him set tools on his workbench while I’m sitting in my chair, racking my brain. 

I suppose my preferences would be short blades and light armor? I don’t want to be pushy, but I can’t think of anything else I’d want, no matter how hard I try. 

Well…it wasn’t a shield, but having a protector was nice. Maybe I should ask for another one? 

Wow, that’s a huge blade… 

I catch a glint of light out of the corner of my eye. I look over there and see a series of shelves in the opposite corner of the room. 

Several weapons are lined up on them. Probably some of Mr. Welf’s past work. 

In the middle of all of them, I spot a broadsword that reminds me of the cleaver I used in my fight against the Minotaur. 

“…Mr. Welf, would it be asking too much to try this out?” 

He suddenly appears next to me as if he’d been yanked over by a rope. His eyes follow mine to the massive sword on the shelf. 

It’s not here as decoration, but its silver blade and proportionate balance as a weapon are absolutely stunning nevertheless. 

I could say this about the armor I wear into the Dungeon, but it was very clearly made by Mr. Welf. 

“It’s not ‘too much,’ no…The shop sent that one back to me ’cause it wouldn’t sell.” 

“But I-I’d like to use it.” 

I ask him if I can take a few practice swings. The confusion in his eyes is as plain as day, but he gives me permission to try. 

Shung. I grab the hilt and lift it off the shelf. I swing the blade from the floor up to the ceiling, carving a silver arc in the air. I can’t help but smile. 

I try a few side swings next. It’s so much heavier than my knife, and it won’t move the way I want it to. 

“…” 

“…? Is something wrong?” 

After swinging the blade a few times, I notice that Mr. Welf is frozen in place. 

When he finally responds, Mr. Welf’s lips hardly move as he speaks. 

“You really…weren’t after a magic sword.” 

Wha? I tilt my head again, wondering if I heard that right. “Huh?” 

“How was I supposed to know you’d be more interested in a shop reject than a magic sword after coming all the way here?” 

He looks happier and happier with each passing second. “Ummm,” is all I can say. 

That’s right! Crozzo’s magic swords…I was so excited about seeing the workshop and all these weapons that I completely forgot. Everything comes flooding back in. 

I don’t know how to respond to that, but Mr. Welf suddenly has a mean smile on his face. 

“So, what did she tell you? Your goddess…What did Lady Hestia tell you about me?” 

“?!” 

“One of the guys working in Babel told me. A young-looking goddess was asking around about me.” 

The blood drains from my head as Mr. Welf calmly explains the situation. 

He knows that I’ve been talking about him behind his back?! 

“I-I’m so sorry! My goddess didn’t mean anything bad by it, she’s just…well, worried about me…It’s all my fault!” 

“I couldn’t care less. Someone from another Familia has started working with one of her own. She’s gotta stay on top of things.” 

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” 

Mr. Welf responds with a lighthearted smile. It looks like he really doesn’t care. 

I breathe a deep sigh of relief. 

“I was worried you’d look at me differently…once you found out. Sorry to test you like that, but I had to know.” 

He genuinely looks sorry with that grimace on his face. 

…So that means he was trying to see if I would ask for a magic sword, if given a chance. If I would use a descendant of the magic swordsmiths to get one for myself. 

Having a famous family name like Crozzo must’ve made him really sensitive to those words. 

Huh. So that’s what he was getting at earlier. 

“Got a bit sidetracked, but I’ll ask you again. Other than a big sword, is there anything you want?” 

“Ah, yes…umm.” 

I never did figure that out, so let’s see. Maybe I should ask for a shortsword? Wait a minute, maybe something on Mr. Welf’s shelf will give me an idea. 

I turn my back to him and take another look. 

“…Hey, Bell. I’ve been wondering this for a while, but is that a drop item strapped to your back?” 

“Eh? Oh.” 

I look over my shoulder and see that Mr. Welf is pointing at my lower back, where the Divine Knife, my dagger, and the Minotaur Horn are. 

“This is…Yes. It’s a Minotaur drop item…but for some reason I just can’t let it go.” 

A scorched horn with bits and pieces of red showing through. I don’t really consider it to be a good-luck charm, but I can’t shake the feeling that selling it off is wrong somehow. 

…I can’t turn my back on everything that I went through with that Minotaur. 

At the very least, I should leave it as it is. 

Although it is kind of useless, carrying it around like this… 

“…How about making something out of that?” 

“Eh?” 

“Using that horn to make a piece of equipment. I could make one hell of a weapon from the Minotaur Horn.” 

My eyes go wide. 

Of course! The direct contract—I bring him drop items from the Dungeon, and he’ll make weapons for me! 

Mr. Welf’s suggestion is like an angel’s song to my ears. This way I can always keep it with me, and the drop item won’t go to waste. I nod my head as fast as I can. 

“Yes, please!” 

“That settles it, then.” 

I hand the Minotaur Horn to Mr. Welf. 

He holds it in his hands for a moment, looking over every inch of the item. 

“…Were Minotaur Horns always red?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Never mind, not important…It’s in pretty good shape, and quite a bit denser than usual. Little bit of shaping, some elbow grease, and it should become one fine blade…” 

Mr. Welf is getting more and more excited as he looks at the Minotaur Horn. 

Talking under his breath and scrunching up his brow, he takes his eyes off the horn for a moment and looks up at me. 

“Bell. Can you let me do my own thing? I want to take my time making this.” 

“S-sure. I’m not a smith, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you what to do, anyway…” 

“Thanks, that helps. Since we’re only using this horn, your options for a new weapon are kind of limited…” 

One shortsword or two daggers. 

That’s the Minotaur Horn “menu” that Mr. Welf presents for me. 

He says that trying to stretch it out into a shortsword would make the blade very thin, so he recommends the latter option. 

The Divine Knife is one thing, but my dagger was provided by the Guild…It might be time for an upgrade. I don’t think that a weapon of the lowest rank would be much use against the monsters I’ll face in the middle levels. 

This might be a good opportunity for an upgrade. I’ve used my dagger for about two months already, so I decide to hang it up for good. 

I ask Mr. Welf to make the daggers. 

“All right, that’s what I’m talking about. I’ll just make one for now and use the leftovers to make another once I learn Forge. Wait and see what I come up with then!” 

“Ah-ha-ha-ha…” 

Mr. Welf has a very excited glint in his eyes, and I can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. 

He doesn’t waste any time in getting my measurements after that. Grabbing measuring tapes and different tools from a metal bucket, Mr. Welf works his way around me, measuring as he goes. 

He asks me to take off my boots and spends a great deal of time recording the shape of my feet. 

“You can head home once I’m finished here.” 

“Um, Mr. Welf, about that…” 

“Yeah?” 

“Would it be okay with you if I watched…?” I manage to ask as he looks over the palm of my hand, specifically where the hilt of the blade would sit. 

I really want to see what a smith does and how weapons are forged. Coming all the way out here has piqued my curiosity. Mr. Welf works his way up my shoulder as I’m trying to picture what’s about to happen in this place. 

Mr. Welf doesn’t know how to respond to my honesty. “You’re a strange one,” he says while tilting his head to the side. But he agrees to let me stay. 

I promise over and over not to get in his way. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting excited, but my cheeks are suddenly very hot. 

“It gets pretty damn hot in here; it’d be a good idea to take off your armor.” 

“Eh, ah, yes.” 

Not really understanding what he meant, I follow his directions. 

Down to my undershirt, I set all of my armor in the corner and turn to face Mr. Welf. He’s in the opposite corner, next to the forge…lighting a fire. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“Heating up the drop item.” 

“You’re going to burn the monster’s horn?!” 

I yell out in surprise despite promising I wouldn’t interfere just a moment ago. 

Animal horns are just like bone, aren’t they? Well, I’m not sure, but…they’ll turn to ash in a fire…? 

“There’s something like metal inside a monster’s horns and claws.” 

“Metal…?” 

“Yeah. Ever heard of adamantite?” 

Adamantite…I feel like I’ve heard of it before, but I can’t place it. 

All I can think of is that it’s an extremely rare metal… 

“Adamantite can only be found in the Dungeon. When it comes to making weapons, it’s the best stuff out there. Very sturdy.” 

“People find it in the Dungeon?” 

“Yep. Sometimes pieces of it just fall out of the dungeon walls, like the monsters. But that’s once in a blue moon. Every so often I hear of someone finding it in the upper levels, but most adventurers bring it up from much deeper in the lower levels.” 

It can only be collected in the Dungeon…That means that it can only be found in Orario. 

Apparently, adamantite weapons are a specialty of Orario’s. Since it’s a very difficult material to acquire, its value puts magic stones to shame. 

“…So then, it’s possible that monsters born in the Dungeon have adamantite inside them…?” 

“Hit the nail right on the head. Exactly. On the other hand, it’s not as pure as the stuff that comes out of the dungeon walls. It’s a bit weaker.” 

In that case, it might not be strange that monsters born in the Dungeon are affected by this material. 

Mr. Welf tells me that only a few of them have adamantite in their fangs and claws, but they’re perfect for making weapons. 

…This horn. This horn broke that thick cleaver during our battle. 

“Minotaur Horns also have a metallic element to them. Heat them up just right, and you can shape them at will.” 

Okay, now I get it. He’s going to make the Minotaur Horn hot enough to forge, just like a piece of metal…This is just the first step. 

An image of the red-hot horn pops into my mind. It kind of looks like a piece of candy. 

From there, Mr. Welf is going to take all kinds of tools to it, just as if he were working with metal. 

“Sorry to bug you, Bell. Could you open the door and the shutters up all the way?” 

“N-no problem.” 

Mr. Welf wraps a hand towel around his head at the same time he speaks to me. 

I go around the room, opening every window and door. 

I turn back around to find Mr. Welf poking and prodding at the fire he just started. There is a rock at the base of the forge, a drop item from a monster known as an Inferno Stone…The flames it can produce are so intense that average people can’t buy one. 

“Just like adamantite, this horn ain’t gonna bend unless I heat it just right.” 

Mr. Welf keeps his eyes glued to the forge while talking. 

In no time at all, a roaring flame erupts from the stone and intense heat swells within the forge. The heat wave reaches me a moment later. I’m a good distance away from it, but I’ve already broken a sweat. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I still had my armor on. 

Mr. Welf is completely focused on adjusting the temperature within the forge. I sit back down in my chair and watch from behind. 

It’s still only midmorning. I don’t even think an hour has passed since I got my lunch from Syr. I bet Babel Tower is swamped with adventurers making their way into the Dungeon by now. 

Yet here I am in a dim room, surrounded by gloomy back streets with only this forge for light. 

Looking at the massive furnace, its red mouth wide open, everything feels mysterious. 

I can only see part of Mr. Welf’s face, but his intensity matches the flames that dance in front of him. 

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” 

“Huh?!” 

“Come on, ask away. We have a direct contract. I don’t want to have any secrets.” 

A few moments pass in silence. His preparations complete, Mr. Welf withdraws his face from the forge and looks at me. 

I freeze on the spot, stunned by his sudden request…How did he know? 

It’s not that I have a specific question to ask him, but there’s something that’s been on my mind for a while. Every time I hear about Mr. Welf, my curiosity grows and grows to the point that if I’m not careful, the words will spill right out of my mouth. I guess he must’ve caught on. 

He has a gentle aura about him. A light smile on his lips. I can see a look of trust in his eyes…At least I think so. 

I swallow all the spit in my mouth and take that first step to finding the answers from Mr. Welf himself. 

“Why don’t you…Why don’t you make magic swords, Mr. Welf?” 

I can still remember how happy he was when I became his client. 

If he would just make magic swords, he would have more clients and money than he would know what to do with. 

He already has a famous name that would draw in people from all over. That’s the power of the Crozzo family. 

I have to know the reason why he doesn’t even try. 

“Well, there are a few reasons, but…” 

His mouth curling into a grimace, he casts his gaze back into the flames. 

“I hate magic swords.” 

Then he starts to explain the reason why he despises them so much. 

“Truth is, I told you my work doesn’t sell, but I’ve had a ton of clients…Nah, still do.” 

“Eh……?” 

“It’s so simple that it makes me sick. All these people see my armor and weapons in the shop, but once they see my signature, ‘Crozzo’…they come knockin’ at my door, beggin’ me to make a magic sword for them.” 

Mr. Welf pumps more air into the forge, using a tool at his feet. 

“They completely ignore my work, it’s all just magic sword, magic sword, magic sword…That’s all everyone other than you ever said. I know and realize I don’t have much experience, but…You know? It hurts.” 

The slightest of wrinkles appears below his mouth, the only dark shadow on a face blanketed in an orange and red glow. 

A magic sword that is said to be strong enough to burn away the sea, probably the strongest ever. Everyone was after the magic swords of the Crozzo name, not Mr. Welf’s armor or weapons. 

None of the customers who came to him looked him in the eye…Could they only see the value of the Crozzo bloodline? 

All they saw were the magic swords. 

“Um, Mr. Welf…How did, um, you know…” 

“Yeah, things went downhill fast. Lots of yelling. ‘Get lost, you bastards!’ and ‘Who would listen to the likes of you?!’ I chased them all away.” 

“Ha-ha-ha-ha…” 

I’m lost for words; all I can give him is an empty laugh. However, I get it. I understand. 

He’s angry at the people who wouldn’t give his armor and weapons any attention. Well, part of it could be that he’s angry at the Crozzo blood flowing within him. 

I hear what he’s saying and I get it…But. 

“Um…Is that the only reason?” 

I feel like there’s something more. 

He said he hates magic swords, but there has to be a deeper meaning. 

“…” 

An answer doesn’t come right away. 

Taking his eyes off the forge, Mr. Welf walks over to his workbench and looks down at the Minotaur Horn. Picking up a chisel and hammer, he sets to work on breaking the horn in two. 

After about fifty shrill impacts, the Minotaur Horn finally splits right down the middle. Setting the relatively larger half off to the side, he carries the smaller half back to the forge and sits down. 

“Do you know why the Crozzo family can make magic swords in the first place, Bell?” 

He pinches a piece of the horn with a special tool and thrusts it deep into the heart of the flames. 

“I don’t…” I respond as I watch him move onto the next step in the weapon-making process. 

“There was once an ordinary man named Crozzo. It was his descendants who made his name what it is now. We call him The Ancestor. All this happened before the gods came down here.” 

We call the time before the gods came to this world “the Old Age.” That era ended about a thousand years ago. 

The Crozzo family history can be traced back that far?! Wow… 

“The story goes that The Ancestor was a smith down on his luck. Nothing would sell. And of course, he couldn’t make magic swords. However, it’s beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s the one who started it all.” 

A breath. 

“The Ancestor risked his life to save a member of a certain species from a monster.” 

“A certain species…?” 

“A fairy.” 

—“Whaa?!” My voice hits the floor in shock. 

Mr. Welf smirks at the surprise on my face and continues his story with even more enthusiasm. 

“The fairy did everything it could to save the life of the man who was bleeding out on the ground. It cut part of its body and gave him some of its own blood.” 

“S-so that means the Crozzo family has…?” 

“Yeah. We’ve got fairy blood in us.” 

—Fairies. 

Nymphs, spirits, elementals, jinn…Their mysterious race has many names here on Earth. Their population is extremely small compared to the other races. 

“The most loved of all the children.” “Children of the gods.” 

Humans and demi-humans have many stories about them, but the one common thread is that fairies are the ones closest to the gods themselves. 

“The Ancestor made a full recovery, like nothing ever happened. A full-blown miracle. However, after that day it was said that he could use magic despite being human…and he could make magic swords.” 

Fairies are capable of so much that other races pale in comparison. 

They’re magic users, like the elves. They can call forth flames, summon wind, create their own ponds deep in the forests, and even produce precious metals out of thin air. 

It might be accurate to say that their power rivals the gods’. 

Basically, they can perform miracles. 

“So did, did the Crozzo family become heroes…?” 

“Nah, nothing like that. Good or bad, The Ancestor was just regular townsfolk.” 

Fairies appear in many stories, especially stories about heroes—and many of those stories are based on truth. Gramps told me that. 

The fairies in those stories use their power to guide the young hero, sometimes lending him strength, and using their power of miracles to help him fulfill his destiny when the time comes. 

Usually, they impart magic on the hero or give him a powerful blade, not unlike what Mr. Welf just said. I even heard about a fairy who turned its own body into a weapon. 

Fairies play a big part in heroic deeds of the main characters in each story, and are sometimes directly involved. 

In the time before the gods, having a fairy on your side would have been the equivalent of a Falna today. 

“The Ancestor died at a ripe old age, but his blood was passed on. It’s probably due to more fairy magic, but it’s still around today more than a thousand years later. The gods and goddesses who witnessed everything from above can tell that I’m a member of that line.” 

It’s said that once the gods came down to this world, more fairies began to interact with other races. Be that as it may, most of them avoid us. I don’t know if they’re whimsical or too proud. 

Gnomes are a race of fairy that lives alongside us very well. They may look like little old men and women, but their knowledge about jewels and valuable materials has made them a valuable part of our society. 

Blessings from the gods and goddesses have made fairies less appreciated compared to the Old Age. However, their mysterious nature still captivates human and demi-human alike. 

“Even though they had the fairy blood of The Ancestor within them, the first few generations couldn’t do much with it…That is, until a Crozzo received a god’s blessing. That changed everything.” 

“…Skill?” 

“Yep. One that let them make magic swords. Every member of the family acquired it the moment they received their blessing. Nothing to it.” 

A hidden potential awakened within them as soon as a Crozzo family member received a Status. 

Even after all this time, that fairy’s power is still at work. 

“Li’l E already told you what happened next. Magic swords were much more powerful than anything else available, and the Crozzo family sold their work to their king.” 

Mr. Welf explains that by this time they had become subjects of a kingdom. 

To sum everything up, The Ancestor used fairy blood that was given to him in order to make magic swords before any family members received Falna. Then they became known as a family of magic swordsmiths because…that blood they all shared unlocked the ability to create powerful magic swords. 

The source of the Crozzos’ fame comes down to the quality of their bloodline. 

“They really lived it up after that, doing whatever the hell they wanted. Their swords granted the king’s armies unbelievable power; the compliments from the king himself and rewards for their work kept flowing in. They stuffed their faces with the finest delicacies, nearly drowned themselves in expensive ale…Smiths behaving like royalty—what were they thinking?” 

Mr. Welf’s words trail off in hesitation, his eyes not leaving the flame. 

Silence falls. 

For the longest time, the only sounds in the workshop are those of the crackling flames in the forge. 

“…The Crozzos got full of themselves. They forgot that they owed everything to the fairy blood in their veins. Started thinking that their Skill was their power, that magic swords were their right…Blinded by greed, they kept making more and more.” 

—“So they were cursed.” 

Mr. Welf speaks more clearly than he had all morning. 

“The kingdom used Crozzo’s Magic Swords in war after war…earning the hatred of the elves in the process by burning down their homes…” 

“I-I know.” 

“It wasn’t just elven hatred they wrought, but that of the fairy who saved The Ancestor as well.” 

“?!” 

“Fairies love to be at one with nature. They surround themselves with it. The magic swords scarred their mountains, scorched their ponds, annihilated their forests…Just like the elves, the fairies were chased out of their own homes.” 

This was the source of the elves’ grudge, just like Lyu said. 

Did Crozzo’s Magic Swords become the fairies’ sworn enemy, like how the elves swore revenge on the Kingdom of Rakia? 

“The elves took out their anger on the country. But the fairies, their grudge was with the Crozzos.” 

“…” 

“And then, just before another battle like any other, all of the magic swords crumbled without warning. Never-been-used magic swords, fresh out of the forge. It goes without saying that the kingdom lost that battle without its greatest weapons.” 

“Did the fairies do that?” 

“I’m sure of it. At the same time, the Crozzos lost the ability to make magic swords. They were cursed by the fairies.” 

So that’s what it means to be cursed…? 

When did my shoulders get so tense? 

“The kingdom lost over and over after that. The Crozzo family took the blame and was stripped of nobility. That’s the fall from grace. By the time I was born, there was nothing left from the old days.” 

From heaven to hell. You reap what you sow, I guess… 

That explains the Crozzo family’s fall into ruin. 

But, wait. Hold on a second… 

“You said that the Crozzos couldn’t make magic swords, right? But I’ve heard you can, Mr. Welf…?” 

“Yeah. I can. No clue why.” 

Maybe the effect of the curse wore off, or maybe the fairies were satisfied with their revenge. There might also be something special about Mr. Welf. 

Even though the reason is unclear, the one thing that he’s sure of is that he’s the only Crozzo who can make magic swords right now. 

But Mr. Welf ran away from home and broke free from the Crozzo family…He says that he was nothing but a wanderer when Lady Hephaistos found him. 

“I know they were trying to restore the family name, but I’m grateful to my old man for cramming all these forging techniques into my head. Thanks to him, I learned the joy of creating something useful.” 

My body feels a few degrees warmer. I’ve completely lost track of time, but Mr. Welf seems to know what’s going on. Sensing the right moment, he pulls the drop item out of the forge and places it on the anvil. 

Although the piece of Minotaur Horn is still in its original shape, it looks like it could melt at any moment, glowing red like that. 

“Probably because I didn’t hate it. I didn’t hate being a shop hand, working alongside my old man and his tools in a workshop covered in soot. 

“That feeling the first time I struck metal…” he says in a voice so quiet I have to strain to hear him. 

A wet sound reaches my ears at the same time. 

“However…once they realized I was good at it, my old man forced me to make a magic sword. He said it was to return the Crozzo family to glory.” 

Mr. Welf takes a deep breath as he grabs a hammer with his right hand. 

His lips go flat into a straight line as his eyes open wide. 

This is the first time I’ve seen him like this—Mr. Welf’s smith face. 

I hold my breath. 

“…Make a tool the king would appreciate, is what he was saying. But he left that part out.” 

A moment later, Mr. Welf brings the hammer down on the Minotaur Horn with incredible force. 

“It’s not the same. Weapons aren’t like that, not even close.” 

The impact of metal on metal sends a shock wave of sound through the room. The forging has begun. 

Mr. Welf hits the drop item with his hammer as if he’s trying to drive his thoughts into the material. 

“Even political tools are no reason to get excited. But weapons, they become part of their wielder.” 

A series of shorter, more precise strikes sends out a new chorus of high-pitched echoes throughout the workshop. 

All of the strength he’s built up in the Dungeon makes each blow much stronger than that of a normal man. 

“No matter what desperate straits someone is in, they must always be able to count on their own weapon. From the moment they grip the hilt, it becomes an extension of their arm.” 

He starts mixing strong hammer blows with short strikes, the rhythm of the echoes changing every moment. 

The material lengthens with the heavy impacts; the quick hits adjust the shape. 

He doesn’t wait for me to respond to him. He just keeps talking as the hot object beneath him takes a new form. 

“It’s our job as smiths to make weapons that last.” 

His passion for reliable armor and weapons is pouring out of him. It’s almost as if Mr. Welf himself is on fire. 

It’s pure devotion to his craft. 

“We face down metal at its hottest—at our hottest. A weapon can only be made when we bring everything we have to bear. What’ll happen if we half-ass it? Fail to pour our sweat and blood into it? What if we forget our own ambition?” 

Mr. Welf is slamming his whole world into each strike. 

As if his blood is boiling, as if he’s possessed by something unseen. 

I wonder what he’s seeing in the middle of that lump of molten metal… 

“I hate magic swords. They will always break before their wielder.” 

Showers of sparks fly, red beams of light flash. 

Flakes of burned metal are launched from the horn with every blow. And yet they all just flow harmlessly off of Mr. Welf’s black coat and to the floor. I wonder if it has some of the same qualities as adventurer’s armor… 

Wait, that’s it. 

His black coat is in such rough shape because it’s his work clothes. 

Its black color and worn condition are all proof of how hard he’s worked, how many pieces he’s made. 

“I absolutely despise magic swords. That kind of power rots people’s souls. The user, the smith’s pride—anyone and everyone. At the very least, Crozzo’s Magic Swords do.” 

The all-powerful magic swords that corrupted their creators. 

“Cursed magic swordsmiths.” 

I think I finally understand what those words mean. 

“I won’t make a magic sword. And even if I did, I’d never put it up for sale.” 

Sweat dripping down to his chin, Mr. Welf raises the hammer again. 

Another round of echoes rings out. The workshop is drowned out in a fierce melody of impacts. 

I’ve been so wrapped up in the spectacle that I forgot to wipe the sweat from my face. 

The metallic smell that hit me when I first walked in. 

It was so strong that I wanted to cover my nose. But now it seems so far away. 

I continue to watch Mr. Welf strike the horn over and over again. 

I take a look outside the shutters and see an evening sky. It’s almost nighttime. 

At last, Mr. Welf is almost finished. 

“…That should do it.” 

“Whoa…!” 

Mr. Welf emerges from the corner of the workshop carrying a shallow box in his hands. He places it on his workbench. 

I lean over the bench to get a good look and see a dark red blade inside. 

The cutting edge of the blade is so thin I can almost see through it. It’s just a little bit shorter than the Divine Knife. The blade color matches the Minotaur Horn almost perfectly. 

The hilt is a reddish maroon color and is probably shaped to fit my hand. 

“T-this…this is…really, really good…!” 

“I had good material. Out of all my work so far, this has gotta be my best.” 

Mr. Welf smiles from ear to ear with the satisfaction of a job well done. 

He’s being modest, but I can tell by the look in his eye he’s very proud of this one. He wouldn’t use the word “best” if he wasn’t. 

I bow my head over and over to show my gratitude. 

“Ah—sorry. Didn’t have time to make a sheath. I’ll have a custom one ready by tomorrow, so can you put up with a generic one for tonight?” 

“S-sure, of course! Actually, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow…It’s already late.” 

“Nah, it’s better to finish everything when it’s still warm. 

“That’s how metal is,” he says while rotating his right shoulder. 

That’s just what a smith would say. Hang on, he actually is a smith. I grimace at my own train of thought. 

I wonder if all smiths are people like Mr. Welf. Images of their daily life pass through my head as I space out for a moment. 

“Now, this guy needs a name.” 

He leans over in front of me and takes a long, hard look at the dark red blade. 

His eyes narrow as he scratches his chin with his right hand. 

I’ve never seen someone focus so hard on something before…He slowly opens his mouth to speak. 

“The Young Bull, Ushiwakamaru……No, the Bull Dagger, Minotan.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT! Isn’t the first one so much better?!” 

“Huh? You like Ushiwakamaru better, Bell?” 

“I don’t even have to think about it!” 

I speak so vigorously that spit flies out of my mouth and toward Mr. Welf. 

I do my best to convince him to go with the first name. “Okay then…” he says with a very sad look in his eyes, but he accepts it. 

“All right, take it.” 

“Thank you so much, Mr. Welf!” 

I grab a sheath from his weapon shelf as he holds the dagger out to me. 

I say one more thank-you and reach out to take it from him…Woosh! Suddenly the blade is pointed right at my chest! 

“Ehhh?” My jaw slacks in surprise. 

“That’s it.” 

“Wh-what’s it?” 

“That’s the last time you call me that uptight name.” 

His words just add to my dumbfounded shock as my eyes peel back. 

“We haven’t known each other for long, and I can’t say we completely trust each other, either, but call me something like I call Li’l E. 

“Something like friends,” adds Mr. Welf—no, Welf—with a grin. 

A smile floats to my lips as I respond. 

“Gotcha, Welf.” 

He flips the hilt of the blade forward and I grab hold.