Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka - Volume 8 - Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

LOVE SONG TO A GODDESS OF THE FORGE 

“Finally, everything is in order.” 

Light from a magic-stone lamp flickered in the darkness. 

Two cloaked shadows stood facing each other in a small room and whispered quietly. 

“Our soldiers have made it safely inside. Once we’re done, they can deploy anytime.” 

“Is that right…” 

One voice was that of a man filled to the brim with enthusiasm; the other, a stern, solemn voice of someone many years his elder. Their private conversation continued. 

“We already know where he is. I’ll make contact myself in a day or two.” 

“…” 

The youth took a step closer to his silent companion. 

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.” 

“…” 

“It’s too late to start wavering now. We have received an important task that leads directly to a promotion by our lord. This may be our last chance.” 

“I’m aware.” 

The elder nodded as the younger leaned toward him. 

The man was most pleased by that response. Without missing a beat, he channeled into words the numerous emotions coursing through his veins. 

“We must bring him back. That power belongs to us, and this place isn’t worthy of it.” 

“…” 

“Lost glory is once again within our grasp.” 

The elder figure stayed silent throughout his younger companion’s impassioned speech. 

Light from the lamp cast two long, flickering shadows high onto the wall. 

Bright flames filled the inside of the forge. 

Hephaistos intently watched the dark-red fire, the same color as her hair, rise and fall. 

She was standing in a workshop where the large forge, an anvil, and other big tools sat ready for use in the corner. 

Hephaistos, dressed in work clothes, came to a stop with a hammer in her hand. The shaft of a silver sword had already taken shape on top of the anvil beneath her, the metal still glowing with heat. 

Flames from the forge illuminated half her face, including the prominent, bandage-like black eye patch. 

The heavy blows of hammer on metal ceased, leaving behind only the crackle of the fire. 

“Where’d your spine go?” 

The front door of the forge creaked open and was closely followed by a new voice. 

A rush of cold air came in from outside, making the flames flicker and ruining the perfect conditions inside the workshop. Hephaistos turned to face her visitor. 

“Tsubaki.” 

“Now, I’d heard rumors you shut yourself up in this workshop. I came all this way to check on you, and you’re not even swinging that hammer. So, what are you up to?” 

The woman who entered the forge workshop had long black hair tied back behind her shoulders and wheat-colored skin. 

Just as Hephaistos had an eye patch over her right eye, this woman had an eye patch over her left. Wearing a crimson pair of Far Eastern–style, skirtlike pants called hakama, Tsubaki rebuked Hephaistos for the lack of hammer work. 

They were in Hephaistos Familia’s store, located on Northwest Main Street. Not far from Guild Headquarters on the road known as Adventurers Way, the store was equipped with a workshop on the first floor. 

“Nothing much,” Hephaistos responded to her follower. 

“You’ve spent a lot more time in your head since Welfy boy left, now haven’t you, My Ladyship? A bit lonely, are we?” 

“…I’m always sad whenever a child leaves the nest. That goes for anyone, not just Welf.” 

Tsubaki, obviously put off by her goddess’s condition, showed no restraint or fear in conveying her dissatisfaction. Hephaistos knew there was no point in trying to fool her and confirmed her suspicions without beating around the bush. 

The woman watched as the goddess put the finishing touches on the weapon in a flash before starting to clean up the workspace. 

“Well, then, any news?” 

Releasing her crimson hair from its restraints and working her way out of her tight-fitting work clothes, Hephaistos addressed her follower. The woman nodded, her long black hair swishing behind her head. 

“A message from the Guild and Loki Familia. Rakia has a plot afoot this time, by the sound of it.” 

The goddess narrowed her left eye while listening to Tsubaki explain the finer details. 

“So, Hestia’s children are to be the bait…” The goddess sounded deep in thought as the name of a friend rolled off her tongue. “All right then,” she said with a nod. “Do exactly as the Guild says. Tsubaki, take command for me.” 

“Was planning on holing up in the shop for a bit, but this could be fun. You got it, I’ll be takin’ the helm.” 

With that, the woman left the workshop with a smirk on her face. 

Hephaistos watched her leave, then returned her gaze to the corner of the workshop. 

Flames still burned brightly inside the large forge. 

Heat from another forge bit at the side of Welf’s face. 

The flames burned with an intensity on par with his own passion. The young man’s face was covered in rolling sweat despite the towel wrapped around his forehead. With only the roar of the furnace at his side in the dim workshop, Welf repeatedly slammed his hammer into the red-hot metal on top of his anvil. 

High-pitched, metallic echoes reverberated through the air. Showers of sparks scattered across the floor. It was a battle between him and his craft. 

His gaze didn’t move from what was directly beneath him. Completely focused on shaping the metal, nothing could distract him from the task at hand. Crimson hammer in hand, he simply guided it to the target with his gaze. 

Every swing of his hammer left a thin, dark-red trail of light through the air, generated by his Advanced Ability, Forge. It allowed him to breathe a sublime power into each of his weapons and armor, making them stronger and sharper as they ascended to levels of awe-inspiring quality. 

Slam! Slam! His ears had grown to love the sound of metal on metal. Each impact had a slightly different ring to it, and he could hear every detail. 

It was as if the metal were talking to him, guiding the next hammer fall. A smile grew on his lips before he knew it. 

—Listen to the metal’s words, lend your ears to its echoes, pour your heart into your hammer. 

Back in a long-forgotten corner of his memory, the voice of an old man from many years ago made its way past all the rust and into his thoughts again. He had heard the mantra in a workshop just as dim as this one. The smell of metal in his nostrils, Welf had been a young boy and nothing more than an assistant. 

Brief images of those days flashed through his mind as Welf brought the melody of the forge to life. The hot metal bent to the will of his hammer, taking the shape of a sharp sword as his passion burned as hot as the flames burning at his side. 

“Sorry for the wait. I finished your order, a katana.” 

Soft red light emerged from the open iron shutters of the workshop. 

A small stone structure built behind their home, the workshop was quiet under the evening sky. 

The sun had almost set by the time Welf finished what he set out to complete. He’d gone to greet his allies, home from the Dungeon, in the main building while still wearing his sweat-soaked jacket. 

Welf had stayed out of the Dungeon today in order to complete a few tasks. “Ooo!” came the collective voices of Lilly, Haruhime, and Mikoto, mouths open in surprise and excitement. 

“I made sure the measurements match your old one as close as possible. It’s a metal synthesized from a liger fang’s tooth and noh steel mined from floor twenty-seven. Should be able to take a lot of punishment.” 

“Thank you so much, Sir Welf! It’s gorgeous…!” 

The curved, ninety-celch blade was both black and silver. 

Mikoto took from him the blade forged from an adamantite drop item and an ore mined from the Deep Zone of the Dungeon, arms shaking with a mixture of elation and gratitude. It wasn’t just the weapon’s beauty that made her adventurer’s heart fall in love with it at first sight. She could tell that a High Smith had forged the third-tier weapon by hand due to the blade’s characteristics. 

She had put off asking him to make this weapon in favor of the equipment she’d need—a spear and light armor—to fill her role in the middle of their formation. Feeling complete once again, Mikoto’s cheeks glowed. 

“It’s so convenient to have a smith in the familia.” 

“Don’t talk about people like they’re some kind of magic-stone product, Li’l E.” 

Lilly looked at him out of the corner of her eye, commenting as if every household should have at least one person who could restore worn weapons back into shape and even create new ones when needed. Welf, however, wasn’t going to take it lying down. 

Making his rebuttal with half-lidded eyes, the young man then turned back to Mikoto. She was still holding her new katana, her mind somewhere around cloud nine. He was slightly intimidated by Chizan—the dagger securely fastened at her waist, a parting gift from Takemikazuchi that was one of a pair of extremely high-quality daggers forged by Goibniu Familia—because it was difficult to compete with. However, he was rather proud of how the katana had turned out. 

Extremely satisfied with the blade and sheath, the latter decorated in a black and silver striped pattern, Welf took a step closer to Mikoto and tried to keep his pride under wraps while making a suggestion. 

“Okay, now it needs a name…Iron Tiger, Kotetsu…No, Stripey, Shimajirou.” 

“Sir Welf, please waaaaaaaaait!” 

Welf put his right hand to his chin, a grin on his lips. Mikoto vigorously voiced her objections. Breaking out in a nervous sweat, blood boiling in her veins, she made every effort to prevent that name from sticking. 

“I-isn’t it a wonderful name: Master Stripey. It’s quite cute…” 

“Do you mind?!” 

“Its future hangs in the balance, Miss Haruhime, so please stay silent!” 

Haruhime spoke like the sheltered girl she was, while Welf was overjoyed to find someone who could understand his tastes. Mikoto yelled at her childhood friend in desperation. 

Their spirited discussion went through many twists and turns with an unamused Lilly watching from the sidelines. It ended with Mikoto, begging with her hands and knees on the floor and tears pouring out her eyes, finally winning the battle to give the new katana the name Kotetsu. 

Welf scratched his red hair with a look of utter disappointment on his face while Mikoto clutched the weapon to her chest in relief after her hard-fought victory. 

“…And these are for you two. For defense.” 

“Is this…a cloak?” 

“Mr. Welf, could this be…?” 

Welf handed Haruhime and Lilly each a black hooded robe. 

He nodded at Lilly’s surprise. 

“That’s right. Made it from the drop item we got from that Goliath. Bell and Lady Hestia gave it to me.” 

He was referring to the battle against the abnormally powerful monster, an Irregular, on the eighteenth floor: the Black Goliath. 

Bell had received the drop item when all was said and done after the battle. Welf used half of it to make protective equipment for Lilly and Haruhime. The drop item, by the way, had to be recovered from the wreckage of Bell and Hestia’s old room under the church because they hadn’t had time to sell it. 

That monster’s hide was so strong that it had completely nullified the attacks of hundreds of upper-class adventurers without so much as a scratch. 

Therefore, Welf had used its incredible defensive attribute to help the two supporters who were vulnerable to attack. He’d made a few personal choices in their design, but the cloaks were, without a doubt, top-tier defensive items. 

“It’s pretty heavy, isn’t it…?” 

“Yeah, but please try to overlook that. Remember how crazy strong the Goliath’s skin was? No blade or spell is getting through these.” 

Lilly put the cloak over her shoulders right away and commented while looking down at it. 

While Lilly had her Skill, Artel Assist, to help carry the load, Haruhime was on her own. “Ah, uwaah!” She struggled to stay on her feet under the weight of her cloak. 

The Goliath’s rampage depended on its brute force, so its hide had to be strong enough to repel both physical and magical attacks. The cloaks created from its drop item were no doubt strong enough to withstand attacks from monsters in the middle levels and the lower levels of the Dungeon without much trouble at all. Now it was Lilly’s turn to feel grateful. 

“But don’t forget, this does nothing to soften the blow. One hard smack and it’s all over.” 

Welf explained to Lilly that it was exactly the same as armor. 

An iron plate could prevent the cut of a blade, but the flesh beneath would still feel the full impact. Lilly and Haruhime were both Level 1, meaning it didn’t take much to launch them off their feet. Should they take the full force of the monster’s attack, there was a real possibility they could die with the cloak in perfect condition around their bodies. 

Meek expressions grew on Lilly’s and Haruhime’s faces after hearing Welf’s warning. 

“…But if this is so good, wouldn’t it be better to give it to Mr. Bell on the front line?” 

He would be exposed to far more ferocious attacks than Lilly. 

The risk of taking damage would be greatly reduced if he was wearing this kind of defensive equipment. 

Shouldn’t Bell be wearing a Goliath robe rather than the style of armor he had been wearing from the very beginning? She made the suggestion very clear. 

Welf looked away from them, his mouth a straight line on his face. 

“…I take great pride in forging his armor with these hands. Giving him a drop item to wear into battle just won’t cut it.” 

No matter how impressive the properties of the drop item were, his pride as a smith would take a serious blow if he were to just pass it off as is. 

It was his job as Bell’s personal smith to forge all his equipment by hand, and he wasn’t about to change his mind. 

The young man folded his arms and turned away from the girls. Lilly was a bit tired of his stubbornness, but Mikoto and Haruhime shared a giggle. 

The last of the daylight coming in from outside the shutters cast Welf’s face in a red hue. 

“…That should cover it—now get out of here. I have to finish up.” 

“Mr. Welf—. Tomorrow’s the day we go into the Dungeon with Takemikazuchi Familia, so don’t forget to prepare your own equipment—” 

“I know, now scram!” 

Welf ushered the girls out of his workshop as a way to hide his embarrassment. 

The three young women made their way across the garden, smiling among themselves with his loud voice echoing behind them. 

Hestia Familia and Takemikazuchi Familia had decided two days prior to travel down to the seventeenth floor. 

The two groups had worked together many times before, so no one was worried about their teamwork in combat. Now they were shifting their attention to long-term goals, specifically going even farther down into the Dungeon. Therefore, the best thing for them to do was to go on their very own mini-expedition as a practice run. 

Going deeper into the Dungeon than they’d ever been, their next goal was to reach the twentieth floor, which meant there weren’t enough hours in the day for them to return to their homes on the surface at night. Trying to do so would cut their time in the Dungeon drastically short and wasn’t worth the trip. 

The solution was to camp inside the Dungeon. The plan was simple. They would spend a full day in the Dungeon, and the two groups would take turns at guard duty when they needed to rest. 

They might have dubbed it with the grandiose title of “mini-expedition,” but as spending more time in the Dungeon was fast becoming a reality, this was their important first attempt at it. 

Twenty-four hours. After packing sufficient food and blankets, they said their good-byes to a reluctant Hestia and a smiling Takemikazuchi, who told them to be careful. Miach Familia, whom they’d asked to look after their home while they were gone, saw them off along with the other deities as the large party departed Hearthstone Manor. 

The group, numbering ten in all, spent half the day journeying deeper into the Dungeon until finally reaching the seventeenth floor, and then got ready for half a day of roaming. 

—At least that was how it was supposed to happen. 

“Aaaaaaaall you slackers on the shield wall! Flex those dirty rumps and hold your ground!” 

An angry roar of a command managed to break through the pandemonium of relentless howls and clangs of battle. 

A line of massive shields held side by side with absolutely no space between managed to absorb a giant fist, but the impact of the shock wave made arms go numb. 

The dwarves and animal people who held the shields grimaced in pain as their heels were driven into the Dungeon floor. Cries for help and calls to charge swirled all around them. The voices of magic users in the middle of their incantations filled the air. 

A large group of adventurers was fighting a giant monster that towered far over their heads. 

“How did it come to this…?!” 

“S-sorry, Lilly…!” 

Yells of man and beast erupted from all over the battlefield. Lilly stood in the center of it all, shooting a stream of arrows from her bow gun as Bell finished off the hellhounds and liger fangs bearing down on them while apologizing mid-strike. 

The joint battle party had been drawn into a large-scale skirmish taking place in a large cavern at the end of the seventeenth floor. 

The mass of adventurers stood in front of the gateway to the safe point, the eighteenth floor. 

Spread over a hundred meders right to left and front to back, the chaos of battle echoed far and wide with screams and roars colliding as much as steel and fangs. Under the looming vista of the Great Wall of Sorrows, by far the most prominent monster on the battlefield was a seven-meder-tall ash-colored giant. 

“—OUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” 

The seventeenth floor’s Monster Rex swung both its arms out wide, intimidating the adventurers below with a threatening howl. The ground shattered wherever one of its boulder-like fists came down, sending shock waves through the ground. Welf, Lilly, Mikoto, Haruhime, and all of Takemikazuchi Familia struggled to keep their balance. 

It had all started when they arrived on the seventeenth floor and heard the sounds of battle echoing in the distance, followed by the unmistakable roar of the monster Goliath. The group had exchanged glances, decided to put their plan on hold, and taken the fastest route through the floor…only to find a massive battle between Goliath and a large party of adventurers waiting for them. 

Both familias had done extensive research and preparation aboveground to make sure they chose the safest time to go on their mini-expedition—but the fact that the underground town of Rivira was planning to exterminate the floor boss on this day had eluded them. It just so happened the timing for their plans had coincided. 

The Goliath was always reborn on a two-week interval, making it difficult for upper-class adventurers to pass through to the relatively peaceful eighteenth floor. That, in turn, had an effect on the profits of the business owners residing in the town built at the safe point, since there would be hardly anyone to swindle out of money. Therefore, it was in their best interests to form a temporary alliance and travel up to the seventeenth floor to exterminate the Goliath. 

That’s what Bell and his party had come across—the collective might of Rivira colliding with the ash-colored giant. 

Welf and the others didn’t have the stomach to ignore the screams of their fellow adventurers that echoed the constant vibration of the giant’s footsteps. Most important, their white-haired leader couldn’t abandon them after hearing “GEHHAAHHHHHH!!” echoing through the tunnels. 

The group of slightly shady adventurers had come to his aid in the past, so Bell led the joint party into battle against the floor boss. 

“UOAHHHHHHHHHHH!! Little Rookie, HELP MEEEEEEEEE!!” 

“Whoa!” 

Third-tier adventurer Mord Latro was in the fray when the Great Wall stopped another one of the giant’s attacks, when the magic users were finishing their spells, and when the attackers set out for another run at the giant’s legs. 

Mord had considered Bell to be an enemy from the moment they met, even though the boy didn’t feel the same way. Mord had joined forces with some equally shoddy rogues and put him through an adventurer’s baptism of fire, but he came to recognize Bell’s true character through the events on the eighteenth floor. His opinion of the white-haired human had improved so much that seeing him brought a smile to his scarred face. Just like the other adventurers of Rivira, Mord had come to accept Bell as a fellow adventurer after seeing his exploits in battle against the Black Goliath. 

The man had spent many years at Level 2, content to live out his life as a third-tier adventurer. But now he had started to push himself, to go on adventures once again, as his presence here in the extermination team showed. However, that adventurous resolve disappeared the moment he put his pride aside and called out for help at the top of his lungs. 

A pack of large-category monsters, Minotaurs, had appeared from the main hallway that connected to the cavern. Bell charged past the panicking adventurer and engaged the monsters with the Hestia Knife and a shortsword newly forged by Welf. 

“Since when did extermination teams run into this much trouble…?” 

“There are so many more monsters this time around! There aren’t enough people to attack the big guy!” 

“Do they not understand how to work together…?” 

Mikoto sliced through a charging monster and called out to the closest Rivira adventurer. He shouted a response back at her as Chigusa mumbled under her breath and skewered a hellhound with her spear. 

Walls had been set up at various points around the gray giant to protect the attackers between sally attempts. The small arc of adventurers holding the shield wall was planted just in front of the gateway to the eighteenth floor. 

Compared to the Black Goliath in Bell’s memory—a much more powerful offshoot of the same species—this one was rather weak. However, the average Goliath was still classified as a Level 4 monster by the Guild. The beast had shiny black hair that reached all the way down to shoulders that looked to be carved out of solid stone. The ash-colored giant slammed its fists into one wall after another. 

The brawny, masculine men behind the shields managed to keep their feet, but there were no attackers to take advantage of the window. The ones who should have been keeping the beast off balance and trying to bring it to the ground were too busy engaging the smaller monsters in combat. The same was true for the magic users. Some of them were forced to stop their incantations halfway, some lost their chance to cast their magic despite finishing because of the oncoming monsters, and others had no choice but to release the built-up magic energy without a target. The occasional fireball or rain of light arrows passed through the battlefield from time to time. 

It all came down to this: The residents of the town of Rivira were not in the same familia. It was to be expected from a group of rogues. Teamwork was not in their vocabulary. 

The newly leveled-up Level 2 Chigusa fought side by side with Mikoto, their movements blending together so well they looked like afterimages of each other. The teachings of Takemikazuchi, a god of martial arts, served them well as a pile of monster corpses built up at their feet. On the other hand, the other upper-class adventurers continued to fight as individuals in chaos. 

“Don’t know what else to expect from adventurers, but…!” 

A line of battle developed between friend and foe. No one in the extermination team lent anyone a helping hand as they continued to fight their own battles. 

Ouka had willingly joined the fray as one of the new arrivals, but one look at their ragtag parties made him sigh as he chopped a liger fang in two with the battle-ax in his hands. His efforts saved an Amazon in the group of attackers from certain death. 

“—This beast’s got a bit more pep than the usual ones!” 

An adventurer yelled from the main battlefield after trying to engage the giant head-on. 

Just as the many species of monsters that roamed the hallways of the Dungeon varied in strength among individuals, so did the Monster Rex. The Goliath spawned this time was definitely one of the stronger ones, or so claimed a blood-splattered animal person in the attacker group. 

The joint battle party was disheartened by this frightening news. Even so, they bravely joined the extermination veterans from Rivira and charged out onto the battlefield over and over. 

“Tsk! We need more…You there! Go back to town and get some help! You got ten minutes!” 

“Like hell I can pull that off, Boris!” 

The makeshift commander of this extermination force from Rivira barked the command, but the human on the other end yelled back his own complaint. He still turned to run toward the tunnel that connected the floors, but his send-off amounted to Boris shouting, “Shut up and do it!” behind him. 

Including the extra members from Bell’s battle party, there were forty adventurers fighting in the cavern. 

Either they’d been reluctant to commit more people to the extermination party or they hadn’t taken it seriously, but it was too late to do anything about it now. 

There was also Rakia’s invasion to take into consideration. 

A great number of the upper-class adventurers who normally resided in Rivira had been called back to the surface to join the Alliance and were currently outside the city wall. The fact that none of the extermination team ranked above Level 4 was proof of that. Even the Level 3s could be counted on one hand. The second-tier adventurers were needed all over the battlefield in support. Bell was racing here and there like a speedy white rabbit and had no time to charge his Skill that could bring them back from the brink—even the powerful gravity magic that Mikoto had at her disposal wouldn’t be much help because of the low ceiling and the number of her allies who would be caught up in it along with the monsters. 

Their only hope lay in reinforcements coming up from the eighteenth floor. However, considering the distance they had to travel, as well as the time it took to equip armor and weapons, their saviors wouldn’t arrive for some time. 

Everyone could feel they were fighting a losing battle, and morale started to drain from the adventurers. 

Without the help of a concentrated blast from the magic users, the adventurers manning the Wall took too much punishment. One sweeping kick from the giant’s foot sent an entire group flying. 

“GYAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” 

“Dammit…!” 

Many voices cried out in pain as shields and bodies flipped through the air. Welf swore to himself as he fended off a monster with his greatsword. 

Next, his free hand reached behind his shoulder. 

Another long weapon was strapped to his back, just underneath his greatsword’s sheath. He had forged it just in case things went south during their mini-expedition—a Crozzo Magic Sword. Wrapping his fingers around its hilt, he pulled it free. 

To be blunt, he didn’t care if any of these nameless rogues lived or died. But at this rate, the giant’s overwhelming power was putting his friends at risk. He would not compromise his allies for his pride. “Dammit, dammit!” he spat through gritted teeth as he raised the sparkling dark-red blade high above his head. 

This sword would be overkill, but he took aim at the Goliath and prepared to bring it down, when suddenly— 

“ ? Grow.” 

“!!” 

An elegant singing voice reached his ears. 

He turned toward the alluring sound and saw someone by herself in a corner of the cavern that was devoid of adventurers and monsters—the supporter Haruhime. 

Mikoto and Lilly fought valiantly to protect the girl. The hood of her cloak was extremely low over her face as she continued casting. 

“Confine divine offerings within this body. This golden light bestowed from above. Into the hammer and into the ground, may it bestow good fortune upon you ? Grow.” 

Welf near jumped out of his boots when he realized the gorgeous melody emanating from her was nearing completion. The name of the spell escaped her lips a heartbeat later. 

“Uchide no Kozuchi.” 

Mikoto, who had fallen back to protect the supporters, was engulfed in a pillar of light that took the shape of a hammer from above. 

She was the target of Haruhime’s Level Boost. The hammer of light disappeared, leaving behind a sparkling residue on her body. 

Lilly was quick to remove her own black cloak—the Goliath robe—and throw it over the shoulders of the girl covered in the twinkling lights. 

Mikoto pulled the hood over her face just as low as Haruhime had and wrapped her body in the dark fabric before racing off into the chaos. 

“!!” 

A black arrow shot through the battlefield, cutting through everything in its way. 

The knife Chizan tore asunder the monsters unlucky enough to be in her path, their limbs and torsos flying left and right. She then zipped past the business owners of Rivira and Mord’s band of rogues and made her way toward the giant that was still kicking its way through the walls. 

In very similar fashion to traditional board games of the Far East, Mikoto had leveled up into a more powerful piece. Now on equal footing with the Level 3 adventurers, she wasted no time in coming to their aid. 

Attackers moved in to cover the members of the newly destroyed wall. They drew the beast’s attention as others got clear. Mikoto, however, was free to use that window to attack and quickly jumped into close range. Her sparkling arms thrust Chizan back into its sheath and drew Kotetsu in one swift motion. 

“?HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” 

The katana emerged from its casing with blinding speed and cut into the Goliath’s leg with a flash of light. 

From there, the beast that had allowed Mikoto to get close so quickly took more hits all over its body. 

“?!” 

A stream of blood spurted from the giant’s thick, stubby left leg. 

The sturdy ash-gray hide had been pierced. The deep gash was pouring blood, a blow that signaled a change in the tide of battle. 

Losing strength in its knee, the Goliath tumbled to the ground with a loud thud and accompanying shock wave. 

The other second-tier adventurers, including Bell as well as the ones under Ouka’s command, watched in amazement as the katana-wielding figure in the black robe deftly avoided the giant’s fall and carved through another area of the battlefield like a black arrow shot from a bow. 

“That’s gotta be cheating…!” 

Seeing Mikoto’s incredible slash—no, the awe-inspiring power of Haruhime’s Level Boost—left Welf speechless. The shock was so powerful that he forgot to be proud of the fact that one of his weapons had delivered the blow that had literally brought down the giant. 

“Holy shit!” “Who does that guy belong to?!” Cheers and praise for the mysterious hooded adventurer erupted from the ranks of Rivira’s adventurers as she performed a perfect hit-and-run maneuver. While managing to keep her identity a secret, Mikoto could feel all the eyes on her from beneath the Goliath robe. She turned around to make another attack run on the floor boss. It was the same technique that she’d seen with her own eyes used against the Black Goliath, movements that mirrored her vivid memories of the “Gale Wind.” 

Behind all the thrilled spectators, Welf, Lilly, and Haruhime quickly distanced themselves from Mikoto’s starting point to avoid any unwanted attention. 

“All you lazy attackers, forward! Cut it up! NOOOOOWWWWW!” 

It was the chance they’d been waiting for. Spirits suddenly alight, a wave of adventurers charged forward while yelling at the top of their lungs. 

There was one strategy for taking on large-category monsters and floor bosses: hit them low, bring them down. 

The attackers were practically drooling as they saw their target writhing in pain on the ground. 

Greatswords, war hammers, and battle-axes glinting menacingly in the dim light, the wave of adventurers reached the Goliath and raised their weapons. 

Then… 

“—Let me have a crack at it.” 

A shadow burst out of nowhere, crossing the battlefield in the blink of an eye and severing the giant’s right arm. 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” 

“Wha…?” 

Welf froze as soon as he got a good look at the person who had landed at the beast’s side. 

One thick katana, crimson hakama, and long black hair swishing from the momentum in her sudden stop. His lips moved on their own. 

“Tsubaki…” 

Almost as if she’d heard him, the newcomer turned to Welf and flashed a grin. 

The Goliath’s arm arced through the air and landed a short distance away, crushing all the monsters unfortunate enough to be beneath it. Bell, Mikoto, Ouka, and all other adventurers present spent the moment in stunned silence. 

Wheat-colored skin and black hair tied back into a ponytail. Her minimalist armor was just gauntlets and a few other light plates around her body. With the large katana in her grasp and choice of clothing, she had the air of a swordswoman from an island nation in the Far East. 

But the one feature that stood out above all else was the bandage covering her left eye. 

“Cy…Cyclops…” 

“…Level Five.” 

Several adventurers gulped as they beheld the warrior who bore so many similarities to the Goddess of the Forge, Hephaistos. 

“W-WE WON, YA BASTAAAAAAAAAARDS!!” 

The arrival of the leader of the smith—part artisan, part top-tier adventurer Tsubaki—invigorated the adventurers even further, and they cheered in celebration. 

That was the finishing blow. 

Her presence on the battlefield skyrocketed morale to an all-time high, and the tide of battle completely tilted in their favor. Loud cheers caught the attention of other adventurers who were finishing off the last of the smaller monsters, and they came rushing in toward the fallen giant. Even the joint battle party joined in the charge once they got their bearings back. 

The extermination party’s mission was completed in a matter of moments with the help of the Level 5 smith. The large cavern fell silent soon after. 

A scramble for the loot ensued soon after the floor boss was slain. 

Everyone tried to lay claim to not only the larger-than-usual Monster Rex magic stone but the Goliath Fang that appeared in the ashes of the beast. The small mountain of magic stones from the smaller monsters was also up for grabs. 

Those on the outside of the scrum—as extras who came in later, they weren’t allowed to stake any claim—were either overwhelmed by the Rivira business owners trying to sell some of the smallest magic stones or standing in awe of the spectacle as a whole. “We’re adventurers, what else is there to say?” Mord said with a forced smile as he and his rogues walked by with their share of the loot firmly in their meaty arms. 

Since it didn’t make any sense to see how the battle for the remaining valuables turned out, the joint battle party of Hestia Familia and Takemikazuchi Familia decided to go down to the eighteenth floor because they were so close anyway. 

A safe point filled with lush greens and beautiful crystals where no monsters were born. 

A mass of blue and white crystals, shaped like a mum flower, sat in the middle of the crystal blue “sky” over the floor known as the Under Resort. Bell and the rest of the party finally had a chance to rest their tired bodies. 

“Once again, we come to the eighteenth floor without planning on it…” 

Lilly muttered as she shielded her eyes from the sparkling light of the flower crystal that shone far overhead like the midday sun. 

The party members who were involved in the events that took place a month and a half ago reflected on their experience as the remaining members of Takemikazuchi Familia admired the scenery with a mixture of awe and wonder. Haruhime, who had only just recently gone through Conversion, eagerly swished her thick fox tail back and forth as she smiled alongside Mikoto and Chigusa. The three girls were each remembering the same thing: the scenery where they played together as children. “It’s like we’ve stepped back in time,” said Ouka with a forced smile as he watched their little group from afar. However, Bell and Welf could hear the excitement in his voice that his stoic expression wouldn’t show. 

Several rivers wound their way through the forest in the southern region of the eighteenth floor. A few of the tired adventurers kneeled at their banks and drank some of the clear water, while the others sprawled out on the grassy floor. The joint battle party was just starting to recover from the fight against the floor boss when the rest of Rivira’s adventurers finally made their way through the connecting tunnel. “Why don’cha come up to the town?” shouted one of them as he waved. More spoke up, saying they were going to celebrate their victory, and invited them to join in. 

Part of their motivation was guilt for keeping them out of the loot scrum. They were in a great mood and offered to treat them to a feast as an apology. Their offer was difficult to refuse. The joint battle party was just that tired. 

So they joined the group of adventurers traveling west toward the rocky island in the middle of a lake. Crossing the log bridge to the island, it wasn’t long before they arrived at the town on the cliff and passed through the wooden gate at its entrance. 

“Oh wow…! Is this the town of Rivira?” 

“Um, is this your first time here, Miss Haruhime?” 

“Yes, it is. I participated in many ventures during my time with Lady Ishtar and have thus passed through this floor many times…but I was never allowed to enter the town.” 

Haruhime’s Level Boost and her very existence had to be kept top secret, so she had been hidden from view as often as possible. Now she was walking among the various tents and ragtag shops, gazing at the crystals and blushing with joy. The renart’s fox tail and ears moved back and forth excitedly as she couldn’t decide where to look. Bell could feel the excitement emanating from her and blushed when the two made eye contact for a moment. 

The town of Rivira had a great view of the lake directly below as well as the expansive forest to the south and east. There was also a great deal of black-market money being made inside the tents and shops that lined the town’s streets. A bar had been built directly into the Dungeon terrain. Many happy and drunk voices echoed from the other side of the door in the cliff face. 

The streets were much less crowded than the last time they were here, due to Rakia’s attack. Even so, uplifting melodies from string and wind instruments filled the town. Everything was peaceful beneath the crystal sky underground. 

“That was some nice work up there, Little Rookie! Would have been screwed without you!” said the “leader” of Rivira, Boris Elder. 

Extremely muscular, the adventurer stood even taller than Ouka. 

Most members of Bell’s battle party had seen him many times during the large-scale fight against the Black Goliath and recognized him right away. 

He wasn’t someone easy to forget, with his intimidating build and gruff aura. 

“You bein’ here means Hestia Familia’s going for the Deep Zone, that right?” 

“Uh, yeah…Eventually.” 

“Atta boy! We’ll be your staging area for attack runs to the Deep Zone! I’ll make sure everybody gives you a discount, fellow adventurer!” 

Just like Mord, the leader of Rivira had seen what Bell did against the Irregular Black Goliath, and he was comparatively friendly with the white-haired human boy. 

“Yes, keep coming back! Many times!” said the man who recognized Bell’s power with a mighty grin; he wrapped his beefy arm around the boy’s shoulders. Lilly, however, eyed him suspiciously as she walked behind them. 

“…Oh yeah, Little Rookie. Somethin’ I wanted to ask you about.” 

“A-and that is?” 

Slightly intimidated by the fleshy tree trunk around his shoulders, Bell forced a shaky smile and looked up at the leader. The man tried his best to look docile and brought his voice down very low to ask. 

“That magic-sword blacksmith is with you, ain’t he? Can you introduce me?” 

“?C’mon, please!! Make me a magic sword!” 

Wrinkles appeared in the middle of Welf’s brow. 

It happened in the middle of the feast, free of charge as promised, when Bell had left the group to go talk to the leader and Welf had gone on his own to find a comfortable spot at the base of twin crystals, one blue and one white. 

The greatsword and magic sword were still strapped to his back as a small horde of adventurers rushed up to him, shouting as loudly as they could. 

“A powerful one, like those amazing magic swords I saw in the War Game!” 

“You’re one of the Crozzos, aren’t you?” 

“I heard they were cursed so they can’t forge magic swords no more. All a lie, wasn’t it? They pack one hell of a punch!” 

“I’ll pay anything, just name your price! So come on!” 

They formed a ring around him, pushing and shoving their way to the front with exactly the same request: 

“Make me a Crozzo Magic Sword!” 

Most of Orario had witnessed the War Game through Divine Mirrors that had been placed all over the city. Word that the legendary magic swords—ones from the actual legend—were Welf’s handiwork had made its way through the ranks of adventurers like wildfire. Everyone wanted magic swords powerful enough to instantly turn thick castle walls into piles of rubble. It was easy for them to work out that the smith in question was a member of Hestia Familia. 

“Bastards…” 

He had many visitors after the War Game who made similar requests…but none were as insistent or aggressive as these today. 

Hestia Familia had come to Rivira—the maker of those swords was here. The only residents of Rivira were adventurers, and all of them knew how to get information. Word spread, and practically everyone in town wanted to have a word with the magic-sword blacksmith. 

Filled with greed, they came after Welf in droves, all begging him to make a magic sword for them. The young man had had enough. 

“?Shut up, all of you!! I will never sell or give any magic swords away! Now tell your cronies and leave me the hell alone!” 

He drove the adventurers away, roaring in anger. 

The earnest requests and rude replies shot back and forth, but Welf wouldn’t budge. Spitting in disgust and spewing complaints, the adventurers finally gave up when they realized his will was as strong as steel, and genuine fear of the weapons strapped to his back started setting in. 

Haruhime and Chigusa also shrank back in fright. “Bastards…” he whispered again, chewing on the word as his bad mood continued to get worse. 

“…” 

“…What’s with that look, big guy?” 

“Nothing…Want some of this honey cloud?” 

“Why the hell would I?” 

Ouka took pity on Welf and kindly offered a sweet fruit in an effort to cheer him up, but the red-haired man would have nothing of it. The girls were definitely scared now, which made him feel even worse, so Welf broke away from the group and set off to find a place to calm down. 

His usual friendly big-brother personality had disappeared. Now he was the lone wolf, striking out on his own. 

“Welf!” 

“…Bell.” 

Bell found him once Welf had reached one of the most scenic points in all Rivira. 

The smith had found a place isolated from the crowd. The boy walked up to him, looking apologetic and scratching his white hair. 

“Sorry, Welf. Sounds like everyone in town came to find you…The leader asked me if he could talk to you, and I tried to turn him down, but…” 

“…No, none of this is your fault. I knew this would happen long before we crossed that gate.” 

He had been ready for it the moment he chose to use a magic sword rather than let his friends’ lives hang in the balance. Even so, his pride as a smith and his stubbornness had come to a head, leading to his livid reaction. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said with a forced grin to the boy who still didn’t know what to say. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“But damn, do they know any other words besides ‘magic sword’…? Do they have any shred of self-respect? The only things an adventurer needs is a reliable weapon in a strong arm, that’s it.” 

“Ah-ha-ha-ha…” 

Bell’s face relaxed as soon as Welf recovered enough to string words together. 

“Speaking of that—of swords, anyway—that shortsword I made do all right?” 

“Pretty good. It’s not that hard to use, and it helped out quite a bit in the battle earlier today.” 

Bell withdrew the shortsword from its sheath. The weapon in his left hand had a longer reach than the knives he carried, so it was great to pick off monsters from a safer distance. The blade sparkled in the light from the crystals overhead. “Glad to hear it,” said Welf with a satisfied nod. 

Just as a smile finally appeared on his face…a set of footsteps emerged from the shadows. 

The two of them turned. Welf’s eyes bulged in surprise. 

“Ha-ha-ha, aren’t you popular, Welfy boy.” 

They could see a crimson hakama and battle gear in the style of the Continent. One thick katana hung from the waist. A smith with long black hair tied into a ponytail. The leader of Hephaistos Familia and the one who had jumped in to save the extermination team, Tsubaki, walked closer. 

“You—what do you want…?! Why are you even here?!” 

“What’s with you, Welfy boy? That how you greet a former boss and fellow smith? How disappointing. Didn’t I take really good care of you until you left?” 

“Just answer me, dammit!” 

“Hmph. Fine, then, but I’m answerin’ the second one first. I’ve wanted to stretch my legs in the Dungeon for far too long. As for the first…I came to make you squirm.” 

She grinned with a twinkle in her eye. “Go to hell!” Welf retorted, clenching his jaw at the memories flooding back into his mind. 

Leader of Hephaistos Familia, Tsubaki Collbrande. 

Standing 170 celch tall, she was often mistaken for human. Although her mother was indeed a human from the Far East, her father was a dwarf from the Continent, making her half dwarf. Her wheat-colored skin had a healthy luster, and her breasts were rather large despite being tied down beneath her battle cloth. She had all the physical qualities to be a very attractive woman, but her free spirit and desire to enjoy herself meant that she spent little time trying to act like a perfect lady. She always seemed to be around Welf from the day he entered the familia, but that was only because it was so much fun to tease him. 

She still liked to poke fun at the young Crozzo smith, but back in those days she treated him more like a child, occasionally helping out and giving advice, but mostly using him as the butt of her jokes. It happened so often that Welf couldn’t remember every single time. However, he knew that other smiths in the familia referred to him as “Tsubaki’s toy” behind his back. 

Even the time when he, Bell, and Lilly had been forced to make the life-or-death decision to travel to the eighteenth floor not too long ago and Loki Familia had come to their aid, Tsubaki had been a part of Loki Familia’s expedition. Of course, she sought him out, asking if he was lonely without her in the workshop. There was absolutely no doubt that Welf was not very fond of her. 

At the same time, Tsubaki was renowned in all of Orario, both as a smith and as a top-tier adventurer. 

The fact that she had achieved the rank of Master Smith rubbed Welf the wrong way. Considering how she had treated him on a daily basis, the young man made every effort to avoid her. 

Welf frowned and tried to hide his face as Tsubaki gave Bell a short greeting, since the two had crossed paths on the battlefield already. Then she turned back to him. 

“Our goddess has been stuck in one hell of a rut since you left, Welfy boy. She’s lonely.” 

“…That’s a lie.” 

In truth, Welf was surprised to hear that. But he was quick to hide any reaction. 

“Oh, but it’s true,” responded Tsubaki with a big-hearted nod. The twinkle was back in her eyes and another grin grew on her lips. 

Bell watched their conversation, not really sure if he should step in as he spoke up. 

“Huh? What’s going on?” 

“It ain’t that hard to figure out. Those two have a special connection…or somethin’ like that. At the very least, Welfy boy here has a thing for that goddess. Don’t you?” 

“Oi, cut it out! Why would I—?” 

Tsubaki’s grin widened the more frustrated Welf became. However, the young man’s face flushed and voice trembled as he shouted at her not to make assumptions. 

As for Bell, he had never seen this side of Welf. Never once had he suspected that the young man felt anything more than the usual reverence followers had for their deities. The sudden revelation blindsided him. 

Welf, on the other hand, looked away from the boy, unable to withstand Bell’s visible surprise. “Dammit…” he muttered with his hand over his cheek. 

Then the young man said a few things like, “Cut it out already,” and a few other saltier expressions. Tsubaki chuckled to herself, shoulders jumping up and down—then her aura suddenly changed completely. 

“That’s right, any old smith could fall for that blockhead of a goddess.” 

Her red right eye, opposite of the bandage, narrowed at Welf. 

“As a deity, as a woman…and for her skill with a hammer.” 

Bell’s and Welf’s jaws dropped as Tsubaki continued. 

“Welfy boy, why the hell didn’t you use that magic sword from the get-go in the fight? Why’d you refuse to make them?” 

“You—you were there the whole time…?!” 

“I thought you were past spouting all that rubbish ’bout not wantin’ to make magic swords?” 

Knowing that Tsubaki had been watching him from the time they joined the battle’s extermination team made Welf gnash his molars together. She ignored the anger appearing on his face and kept talking in a low, cool voice. Playtime was over. 

The teasing ended and the interrogation was under way. 

“Whether it’s talent or blood, we as mortals can’t come close to forgin’ a supreme weapon without pourin’ everything we have into our craft. The dimwit you’ve got the hots for is on a whole other level. You won’t even reach her in your dreams this way.” 

The female smith’s harsh words left Bell speechless. Welf, however, was fuming. 

The goal that drove all smiths through their trials and tribulations, forging a supreme weapon…Hephaistos had shown him what the realm of the gods looked like, but he refused to take advantage of the blood in his veins to get there. Tsubaki touching that nerve was far worse than any insult and made him retaliate. 

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do! I don’t have a shred of interest in reaching the supreme realm by forging magic swords! I hate the things!” 

“…” 

“I will get there doing it my way, you’ll see!” 

Welf’s declaration that he would reach that height on his own terms without relying on magic swords made Tsubaki’s right eye squint to nothing more than a sliver. 

Her glare then shifted to Bell—she was in point-blank range before he knew what was happening. 

Tsubaki moved so fast that the flat-footed Welf couldn’t even see her. Bell forgot to breathe. 

All he saw was a blur, but that blur was her grasping the handle of her katana—with a flash of murderous intent in her eyes. The boy’s body reacted on reflex, bringing the shortsword still in his left hand up to protect himself. 

It was over in a flash. Tsubaki’s katana came screaming out of its sheath and collided with the shortsword, breaking it in half. 

“?” 

Snap! Time stood still for Welf, the high-pitched metallic tone ringing in his ears as he watched the blade he had forged come apart. 

It didn’t break; it was split. 

A simple upward slash. There was no technique or anything fancy in her attack, just a simple impact of blade on blade. And in that moment the blades collided, his skill as a smith had lost. 

The broken silver blade spun through the air in front of the two boys. Bell was speechless. Welf was in shock. 

Now it was Tsubaki’s turn to lash out as the piece of the sword hit the ground. 

“Was that supposed to be a toothpick?” 

A bright blue sky was above; the town of Rivira was at peace. 

But all that might as well have been another world entirely. The woman who stood at the top of the smithing world maintained her cold tone even as her loud voice resounded across the floor. 

“Your own way? Idiot, at that rate you’ll die long before ever comin’ close to the realm of the gods.” 

“…?!” 

“Did becomin’ a High Smith put a chip on your shoulder?” 

The reality in her words pierced his very soul. 

He had no intention of acting pompous. However, he couldn’t deny that the feeling of accomplishment and the pride he felt in carrying the title of High Smith had made him lose a bit of his edge. 

The woman’s right eye was burning with an accusing glare. 

“Smiths who make blades like that are a dime a dozen.” 

Tsubaki’s voice lowered in anger as she delivered the final blow. 

“Don’t overestimate yourself, Welf Crozzo.” 

Beneath her anger, her words felt like a warning as well. 

A heavy moment passed before she turned her back, ponytail whipping to the side. 

Welf and Bell stood frozen in place as she took her first step away from them. 

“You’ll be gettin’ payment for the broken weapon tomorrow.” 

Not bothering to look over her shoulder, Tsubaki left them behind. 

Welf still hadn’t budged. It was another several heavy heartbeats before he collapsed to the ground next to the ruined blade. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. 

“W-Welf…” 

There was no way the boy’s words could reach him now. 

All the challenges and hardships he had overcome up until now paled in comparison to the shock he’d just received. Welf fell into the deepest, darkest pits of despair. 

Light from the crystals above disappeared as “night” descended on the eighteenth floor. 

The joint party had decided to spend the night in Rivira. 

Their weapons were in rough shape, and they had used a great deal of their items during the fight against the Goliath—in truth, they were down to their last ones—so rather than camp in the forest where the threat of random monsters was real, they opted for the safety of the town. Deciding to have their mini-expedition another time, the group searched for a place to sleep. 

Though they complained about how all their preparations had gone to waste, the group settled on an inn that was built into a natural cave. 

Everything in the town of Rivira was expensive because the business owners knew exactly what adventurers would need and that they would pay extra to get it. Despite all that, this inn was remarkably reasonable. There were no obvious problems inside; quite the opposite. With liger-fang fur rugs on the floor, magic-stone chandeliers, and rooms complete with beds, everything looked to be in great shape. Considering the other options, this place was definitely one of the higher-quality inns in Rivira. 

And yet, the price was much lower… 

“…Word has it that this is the very inn where an adventurer’s headless corpse was discovered…” 

“A-are we absolutely sure staying here is the best idea?!” 

“L-Lady Lilly, why not look into a different location…?” 

“No, not possible. Every other place is too expensive. Lilly doesn’t care what did or didn’t happen here, price trumps all. It’s not as if the slain adventurer haunts these halls…!” 

—That gruesome incident was the reason that customers didn’t come to this inn. 

Haruhime, Mikoto, and Chigusa were visibly shaken as they raised their objections, but they failed to convince the frugal prum to reconsider. Lilly put on a brave face and went to check in at the front desk. The animal-man clerk nearly wept with joy at the sight of his first customers in a long time. 

So overjoyed, in fact, that he treated them to light snacks and wine. Once they were done, everyone went their separate ways to get ready for bed. They had reserved two rooms, one for men and one for women. The girls huddled together in their room, doing their best to overcome the fear of what couldn’t be seen by lying side by side on the floor and trying to get some sleep. 

Lights faded in the tents and shops around the town. 

Only the bars remained lit. Drunken, jubilant voices filled Rivira as night descended. 

“…” 

Welf left the inn by himself and returned to the same vantage point where everything had happened that “afternoon.” 

He could see the many sparkling crystals that dotted the townscape on the other side of the railing, as well as the pristine scenery of the eighteenth floor even farther beyond. The soft glimmer of the crystals far above reflected off the lake surface beneath him like stars. 

He hadn’t exactly come back up here to take in the view, which was like nothing else aboveground, but he admired it for a few moments until he realized he had company and slowly turned around. 

Bell had left the inn after realizing the young man had disappeared. Staying just out of sight, he had followed him all the way to the vantage point. 

“What is it, Bell?” 

Welf did his best to sound friendly. 

“Welf…I, um…” 

“…” 

“I…Ever since then…Even now, I prefer your…” 

The boy had difficulty speaking, his mouth opening and closing awkwardly as he desperately tried to convey how he felt. 

But he just couldn’t, after seeing the look in Welf’s eyes. His own ruby-red eyes looked away and he fell silent. 

Somehow, he understood how the smith was feeling, as though he had been through something like it before. He also knew that, in this state, no words would comfort him. 

After looking left and right for a few moments, he walked up next to Welf. 

The two stood side by side in silence, listening to the heavy voices wafting up from the bars and looking out over the town of Rivira. 

They were in the same place that the blade Welf forged had broken so easily. 

“…Hey, Bell. Can I have a look at Lady Hestia’s knife for a moment?” 

“Huh?” 

“Please.” 

Welf spoke up after a few minutes, making a request. 

The boy stood there for a moment before nodding and removing the jet-black knife from its sheath at his waist. 

Welf took the Hestia Knife from his outstretched hand. 

“Ahhh, damn…It really is a thing of beauty…” 

His eyes followed the series of hieroglyphs that were carved into the blade surface as a mixture of admiration and pain swirled within him. A dreary expression took over his face. 

The divine blade had nearly taken his breath away the first time he saw it. 

The weapon itself seemed to dim the moment it left Bell’s grasp. Welf had never been able to figure out why until he learned that it was Hephaistos herself who forged the blade. 

That was its true worth. The skill of a god had gone into its creation. A skill that was in a realm of its own. 

A fresh wave of admiration for the Goddess of the Forge rose within him as he held the weapon in his hand. 

“…All smiths go through a rite of passage before joining Hephaistos Familia.” 

“…Like a ceremony?” 

“Yeah. Every single one of us, no exceptions.” 

Returning the knife to its owner, Welf reflected on his own beginnings and explained how he had first met Hephaistos. 

He had run away from his birthplace, the Kingdom of Rakia, and was looking for a new country to call home. 

He had stumbled across a small town that specialized in metalwork and managed to get hired as an apprentice, when who should walk into his shop but Hephaistos herself. Not only that, but he caught her attention. 

After he accepted her invitation, she brought him to a room at her familia’s home and his rite of passage commenced. 

“All of us are shown one sword. Then we decide whether to join or not.” 

Just the two of them, alone in the room. Hephaistos had told him: 

“If you don’t feel it, go someplace else.” 

Then she’d opened the door to a back room. It was there. 

A single sword on top of a pedestal. 

The sight of that one weapon had sent chills down Welf’s spine. 

“—I was shaking. I could hardly believe that any human smith could ever make a weapon like that.” 

Remembering the sight of the blade forged by Hephaistos’s hands still gave him goose bumps. 

With her Arcanum power sealed and no other special Skills to speak of, the goddess had used pure, refined techniques to forge that blade. 

It was the sword all swords were judged against, the original, forged by the equivalent of human hands. The absolute apex of what people of Gekai could achieve. 

It was a divine work, a piece that truly belonged in the realm of the gods. 

“It’s the absolute. The best a human without any special Skill might hope to achieve.” 

Welf didn’t look at Bell. Instead, his gaze was cast out over the town as his words reflected the passion still burning inside his heart. 

He couldn’t help but smile as memories of what he saw that day came shining through. 

“I want to make a weapon that surpasses it.” 

Welf clenched his right fist just in front of his chest. 

Anyone who saw that blade instantly felt a connection with Hephaistos, a kind of love for her to make them want to learn from her and eventually surpass her. Made them want to reach out to the awe-inspiring goddess. Made them want to see themselves reaching her realm and finding out what lay beyond. 

It was a path far more difficult than anyone could ever imagine. 

By comparison, his journey was far more strenuous and challenging than Bell’s quests to catch up with Aiz Wallenstein. 

The boy’s goal was the Sword Princess—also known as the Kenki—a mortal who stood at the place where all adventurers wanted to be, among the best of the best. The place where Welf wanted to be was among the realm of the gods. 

It was a height that required far more effort and devotion to reach. 

Surprise started to appear on Bell’s face as he began to understand the depth of Welf’s ambition. The redheaded smith’s gaze was locked on his clenched fist. 

“…I want to make it…or at least I did.” 

Shadow covered his face as his head drooped. 

—“We as mortals can’t come close to forgin’ a supreme weapon without pourin’ everything we have into our craft. 

—“The dimwit you’ve got the hots for is on a whole other level. You won’t even reach her in your dreams this way.” 

The High Smith knew the limits of his ability. 

She, who stood at the top of the smithing world, was a monster in her own right recognized as Hephaistos’s leader. 

She, who knew his goal lay even further beyond, understood. 

But today, she’d driven that point home to a painful degree, as well as made it clear how much he wasn’t needed. 

After all, he was but one smith trying to challenge a god, dreaming a legendary dream. Was it absurd? 

Was it as Tsubaki said, and he would never reach his goal without taking advantage of the detestable blood in his veins? 

Without being a magic-sword blacksmith, would he ever be in the same realm as Hephaistos? 

“I…” 

Bell watched as Welf looked up at the dark blue sky of the labyrinth. 

The next day. 

Hestia Familia and Takemikazuchi Familia left the eighteenth floor. 

After spending a little bit of time in the middle levels recouping their financial losses from the fight against the floor boss and spending the night in Rivira, the joint battle party made it back to the surface just before nightfall. 

Some of them went to the Exchange; others went directly back to their gods to inform them about what had happened in the Dungeon. Everyone went their separate ways in Central Park. Welf went off on his own, walking through the city streets under the dark red sky. 

The buildings on either side of the street were filled with boisterous voices and well lit by magic-stone lamps. Adventurers, just back from the Dungeon, shared their stories of bravery with other patrons, staff members, or anyone who would listen. Bards used an array of instruments to fill the bars with upbeat melodies as listeners sang with jugs of ale in their hands. Even the prettiest women working at the bars got in on the act by dancing along with the music. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and having a good time. 

Welf passed through the lively crowd without saying a word. No one said hello to him as he passed by on the edge of the street. It was as though no one noticed he was there. 

He hadn’t seen Tsubaki since their heated conversation. 

Her words, however, had never left. Still lingering in his ears, they dragged him into a whirlpool of anguish every time he let his guard down. 

“Dammit,” he groaned, and shook his head. He’d been asking himself the same questions over and over since last night but had yet to come to any conclusion. 

Despite the fact that, in the end, there was only one answer. 

Frustration on the rise as his spirits sank, Welf looked at his feet as he walked. His eyes did nothing more than trace the stone pattern of the pavement as it passed beneath him. 

He drifted to the west, the last rays of sunlight illuminating his jacket, when suddenly… 

“—Welf.” 

He heard a voice he couldn’t believe. 

“?” 

Welf froze on the spot. Eyes widening, he quickly turned his head toward the voice. 

For a brief moment, he was sure something was wrong in his head, that he was hallucinating and it was just a figment of his imagination. But sure enough, he could see a faint outline in the shadows of an alleyway beside him. 

The shadows swirled as if swishing a cape in front of the motionless Welf and moved farther into the alley. An invitation, no doubt. 

Welf followed without any hesitation. 

Oi, it can’t be, why would—? 

He made his way through the narrow alleyway. 

More and more new questions filled his mind every moment, sending his thoughts into turmoil. 

Why would he be here? 

His pulse quickened. The thumping of his heart against his ribs was too loud to ignore. Anxiety threatened to overwhelm him as he pursued the cloaked figure even deeper into the winding alleyways of the city—until, finally, the shadow came to a stop. 

They were somewhere in the backstreets. Litter scattered about the road; lively voices drifted from the bars off in the distance. 

The cloaked figure turned to face Welf as he stood in a completely deserted and narrow path. Then it lowered its hood. 

“It’s been a long time, Welf.” 

The face of a middle-aged man who looked far older emerged from the hood. The unusually large number of wrinkles covering his face made his age difficult to determine. His brown hair, long for a man, was tied behind his head. His eyes spoke of years of hardship, trials, and tribulations. There was no luster, no strength in his gaze. 

Welf couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he looked upon the aged human who was a mirror of himself, showing what he would look like in a few decades. Then he spoke to him. 

“Old man…?” 

The person in front of him was none other than his real father. They had the same blood running through their veins. 

Wil Crozzo. 

Welf had severed all ties with him seven years ago. This man should be nothing but a part of his past. 

A citizen of Rakia, he was the current head of the fallen family of blacksmith nobility, the Crozzos. 

“Why are you here…? Why would you be here?!” 

“Does that need an answer, foolish boy?” 

Welf struggled to control his trembling voice. Wil cast his weary gaze on the young man. 

He clenched his jaw. 

Just as the man had said, the obvious answer was right outside the city wall. Thinking wasn’t necessary. 

Everyone knew about the 30,000 troops currently fighting with Orario’s Alliance. 

The man in front of him belonged to the army of the divine king who came from the West. 

Welf’s blood boiled as he pieced everything together. This man had snuck into the Labyrinth City as part of the Rakian invasion. 

Don’t tell me…?! 

The reason that Wil came into the city, the reason that he’d sought him out, the reason that Rakia wanted to attack in the first place?. 

The young man’s father watched the expressions pass over his son’s face and stated his purpose. 

“Welf. Forge magic swords for us.” 

“…!!” 

“The Kingdom of Rakia, Lord Ares himself, has recognized the power of your magic swords. The ones that you forged for that pointless match between deities using our family’s gift.” 

The match between deities—the War Game. 

Just as his skill had attracted attention from the adventurers inside Orario, word of the incredible strength of Welf’s magic swords had spread to the Kingdom of Rakia. And now Ares had launched an attack in an effort to secure Welf’s powerful Crozzo Magic Swords for himself. 

“The only reason this war drags on is because of you.” 

That harsh truth hit Welf like a punch to the gut, the shock traveling through his entire body and leaving him speechless. 

Those magic swords had once elevated Rakia’s army to invincibility, allowing them to obtain unimaginable levels of glory in the days of yore. Now they wanted to regain that legendary status by invading Orario to reclaim him. 

Welf was floored by the level of Rakia’s obsession with Crozzo Magic Swords. 

“Of course, we’d been preparing to attack Orario for some time. However, once news of the War Game reached us, Lord Ares and our king decided to change our plans.” 

“…!” 

“Then it became my role to retrieve you…Come with me, Welf. With you and Crozzo Magic Swords by our side once again, Rakia shall regain her former glory.” 

Their deity had a thirst for battle. Welf figured that he most likely wasn’t Rakia’s only objective. 

However, the fact that the Kingdom of Rakia had raised an army of 30,000 and started an all-out war just for magic swords, and then sent this man to collect him, only added fuel to the fire burning in his heart. “Are you brain-dead?!” Welf practically spat the words from his mouth. 

The Guild was very strict when it came to monitoring the flow of capable warriors, so luring an upper-class adventurer out of the city was next to impossible—and climbing over the large city wall was no easy feat. Even if Wil managed to make contact with Welf, the full, outrageous strength of Orario’s adventurers would be there to bar his retreat. 

The solution was to bring the 30,000 troops and draw out as many of the adventurers as possible. Most likely, the reason they were still fighting now was to buy enough time to get Welf out of Orario. 

The Kingdom of Rakia was willing to go to such lengths to reclaim the lost power of Crozzo Magic Swords. 

“Go to hell! Me, join you?! Dream on! I said good-bye to the family and Rakia a long time ago! There’s no reason for me to play along with your batshit insane scheme!” 

“Foolish boy, I was giving you a chance to come peacefully out of paternal mercy…” 

Father and son, locked in an intense stare down. 

The air was electric, but Welf wasn’t intimidated by Wil’s threatening words. Reaching for the swords strapped to his back, he curled his lips into a grin. 

“So then you’re going to kidnap me? Drag me away by force?” 

Welf was now aware of the other figures trying to conceal themselves in the darkness. 

He looked down to the alleyways, grinning as if itching for a fight. 

“We might be out of the way here, but not so far that people won’t hear a brawl. This is Orario—there’ll be no escape once they know you’re here.” 

Welf was Level 2. He was stronger than most of the people who lived outside the city, including the average member of Rakia’s army. His opponents would have to employ other strategies. Although the young man was genuinely surprised that they had made it this far without being discovered by the Guild, that also meant there couldn’t be many of them. It would take more than a few soldiers to overpower him. 

Welf held the advantage, as well as the hilt of his greatsword. However, Wil’s expression remained unchanged as he said to his son: 

“If you refuse to come quietly, my comrades within the city will set it ablaze with magic swords. Authentic Crozzos, at that.” 

“?” 

The glint of the blade was a few celch out of its sheath when Welf’s hand came to an abrupt halt. 

His eyes trembled in shock as he yelled. 

“Don’t give me that shit! There can’t be any more Crozzo Magic Swords left in Rakia!” 

“Actually, yes, there are. Fifty of them were spared at the time of the fairy’s curse.” 

He continued by adding that Welf hadn’t been old enough to learn that family secret before Welf had left. 

A smile appeared on Wil’s face for the first time. 

Back in the days of yore, when Crozzo Magic Swords paved the Kingdom of Rakia’s advance with utter destruction, anything close to the battlefield—be it lakes or mountains or an elvish forest—became nothing more than piles of charred ash. That drew the anger of the elves and other fairies, who broke all the magic swords into useless fragments. Their last act was to place a curse on the family of blacksmiths who created them. Now, Welf was the only member of the family able to forge magic swords. 

However, there was no uncertainty in Wil’s voice when he claimed that several of the magic swords had survived the fairies’ purge and the curse. 

“The commanders were afraid of losing them, so they sat collecting dust all these years…” 

The smile still plastered on his wrinkled face, Wil reached inside his cloak and withdrew a blade. 

“This should be proof enough.” 

“?!” 

The weapon firmly in his father’s grasp was, without a doubt, a magic sword. 

Welf knew in an instant what the red swirling energy inside its blade meant, and it left him speechless. The Crozzo blood in his veins knew how to recognize one of its own. This was no bluff. 

“My compatriots each have one as well. If I give the signal or fail to return in due time, they’ll unleash hellfire on Orario.” 

Should the Crozzo Magic Swords be used inside Orario’s walls, the results would be cataclysmic. 

Just like the elvish forest and the fairies’ homes, this peaceful city would turn into a sea of flames, its buildings reduced to rubble. Countless civilian lives would be lost should that come to pass. 

Wil could see that his son understood the situation and narrowed his eyes. 

“You come with us and none of that happens. Nothing at all.” 

The elder Crozzo watched the fire disappear from his son’s face, and his smirk turned into an ominous grin. 

He then started speaking with unbridled joy, gradually breaking free from years of suppression with each word. 

“Welf, the Kingdom of Rakia will rise once again upon your return! And we, the Crozzo family, can once again bask in the glory of the old days! Money, status, fame—all of it ours!” 

“…!” 

“Lord Ares has given his word that he’ll restore our family to its rightful place if you agree to forge magic swords once again! Our family name will be heralded as it once was! The Crozzo family’s utmost desires will become reality, and I will see it through!” 

Wil let his emotions take over, a new light shining in his once-dead eyes as his long hair waved beneath the tie behind his head. 

The vigor in his eyes was very close to the brink of insanity. They twinkled abnormally bright in the dim light. 

Welf was overwhelmed by the devotion of a man trapped by his family’s obsession. 

The many wrinkles in Wil’s face bent and curved as he smiled in his son’s direction. 

“Make your preparations to leave Orario tonight. Bring all the magic swords you have in your possession to the storage facilities located on the southwest edge of the city at midnight…I shouldn’t have to remind you what will happen if you tell anyone, right?” 

Wil finished giving orders to his son before slipping back into the shadows. 

The other figures in the alleyways also retreated, but some stayed close enough that Welf could still feel their presence. He was being watched. 

Welf stood there, staring after his father until he disappeared. His hands clenched into trembling fists. 

After returning home, Welf made up an excuse to spend the night in his workshop to avoid talking with anyone. 

He wasn’t confident in his ability to keep a calm expression. 

The last thing he wanted was for Hestia to figure out something was wrong. 

Alone in the stone building in the rear garden of their home, the light of red flames illuminating his face, Welf stared into the heart of the fire in the forge. He sat on his bench, not moving a muscle. 

His mind began to churn along with the subtle dance of the flames. 

Each shift in the fire brought forth a slew of forgotten memories that had been awakened by the sudden reunion with his father. 

 “Listen to the metal’s words, lend your ears to its echoes, put your heart into your hammer.” 

Before he knew it, there was a hammer in his hand and hot metal over the anvil. Wham! Wham! 

A shower of sparks fell to the floor with each impact, echoes filling the workshop. His heart listened to the song of the metal, synchronizing with it to create a calm in the storm. Welf was finding his center. 

Crackle, crackle. The sounds of the roaring forge rose into the deepening night. 

He had completed the sword by the time he had to depart. 

It wasn’t a magic sword, but the light-silver weapon emanated a clear glow. A type of blade he’d never made before was in his grasp. 

He spent several moments looking at his reflection on the mirrorlike surface of the off-white sword. Then he placed it gently on the anvil. Wrapping several other weapons in a piece of thick white cloth, he left his workshop. 

Time had passed much faster than he’d anticipated. 

The night sky was clear and filled with stars. No lights came from the windows of Hearthstone Manor. 

Welf gazed at his home for some time before leaving through the back gate. 

The appointed time drew near. Welf silently made his way through the streets toward the outskirts of the city. 

When suddenly… 

“What the…Bell?!” 

He felt the presence of someone following him and moved to confront whoever it was, only to find the white-haired boy. 

Bell stepped directly into the light of a magic-stone lamp and spent several seconds trying to figure out what to say. A few heavy heartbeats later, he said in a quiet voice: 

“You looked upset…And I was worried.” 

Bell was the only one who had noticed something was off with the smith during their brief interaction back at home. 

Welf was taken aback by the boy who had snuck out at night to follow him…But then he smiled. 

It had happened again, just like on the eighteenth floor when Bell came hopping after him like some lonely rabbit. It made him feel warm inside. 

He reached out with his right hand and ruffled the boy’s hair. 

Seeing the blank look on the boy’s face broke down his last defenses, and Welf smiled in earnest. 

Seeing that softer expression made Bell follow suit. 

Welf had been dead set on solving this problem on his own, but now he felt as though he could share the load. He told the boy about everything that happened earlier that evening. 

“R-Rakia?! Not only that, but your father…!” 

“Yeah. That country really has a thing for Crozzo Magic Swords.” 

Bell was dumbfounded by the news as the two of them continued through the streets. 

Welf could still feel the presence of his observers keeping their distance, but what could they do at this point? With Bell around, they wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him and would be forced to let this transgression slide. 

“…So, what are you going to do?” 

Bell anxiously looked up, visibly shaken. 

He was legitimately worried that the red-haired smith would give in to their demands. Welf laughed dryly, cracking a grin. 

“I’m not gonna leave you—any of you—behind. So don’t worry.” 

He told the boy to leave everything to him. 

At the same time, Bell’s concern helped Welf relax. The two continued to walk under the night sky toward their date with destiny. 

There was a way station among the storage facilities located on the southwestern edge of the city. 

It served as an entrance for shipments coming into Orario by land and sea. Products from other regions and countries were brought here and stored until merchants distributed them across Orario. It also served as a marketplace, as many people came here to buy unusual items from foreign lands. 

Bell and Welf made their way into a part of the facility that housed many large and small storage warehouses. Magic-stone lamps were few and far between and couldn’t illuminate all the paths that spread out through the facility like a spiderweb. There were too many dark alleys and blind spots to count. The intimidating presence of the towering city wall was also nearby. 

The two kept a close eye on their surroundings until finally one cloaked man appeared in an alleyway. He swished his cloak as an indication to follow him. Gulp. Welf heard Bell swallow hard as he followed the man, the white-haired boy at his side. 

The alleyway was completely deserted except for the sound of three sets of footsteps. The cloaked man led them to an old rectangular warehouse that had seen better days. 

“—I told you to come alone, Welf.” 

“I meant to, but he followed me here on his own. What was I supposed to do?” 

Wil Crozzo stood in the middle of the old storage unit, illuminated by the moonlight coming through the glass windows at the top of its high walls. 

The man’s eyebrows sank in displeasure. Welf, however, reached out and ruffled Bell’s hair with his right hand. 

Wil watched the white-haired boy blush as his son teased him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a forced smile. 

“Was nice meeting him, but this is where the two of you say good-bye.” 

Wil reached into his cloak and withdrew his magic sword. Almost on cue, other hooded figures emerged from the shadows of the old warehouse. 

There were at least fifty of them, far more than Welf had expected. 

Bell at his side, the young man braced himself in the face of overwhelming numbers. 

“How the hell did all you get into Orario? Were the gatekeepers sleeping?” 

“The Guild might be powerful, but Orario is no fortress. Merchants, familias…There are several ways of getting in and out.” 

Wil left his words open to interpretation, conjuring ideas of a mole inside Orario or that the Guild’s surveillance was far from perfect. It served only to worsen Welf’s state of mind. 

Wil’s allies started stepping into the moonlight—the soldiers of Ares Familia had concealed their identities with an assortment of hooded robes and capes, disguising themselves as travelers. Drawing knives and daggers from sheaths hidden at their waists, the warriors moved to surround Bell and Welf. 

“Now, foolish boy. You’re coming with us!” 

Bell and Welf stood ready. Wil’s voice crackled with a joyous laugh. But then… 

Countless magic-stone lamps flickered to life, flooding the warehouse with bright light. 

“?!” 

Wil, his soldiers, Bell, and Welf were stunned. 

A ring of demi-humans that outnumbered Rakia’s soldiers had the entire group surrounded. The warehouse was under their control. 

Welf squinted to protect his eyes from the sudden rush of light coming from their lamps. The first thing he saw when his eyes adjusted was the emblem engraved into the newcomers’ armor. 

Hammers overlapping in front of a volcano. 

“He-Hephaistos Familia?!” 

Bell’s voice echoed through the warehouse at the same time the ring of demi-humans parted to allow a woman through. 

“Well, looks like Finn hit the nail right on the head.” 

“Tsubaki?!” 

Welf’s jaw dropped at the sight of the female smith, her long black ponytail swishing back and forth and one eye hidden by an eye patch. 

Leading a familia known the world over, Tsubaki appeared alongside the many High Smiths who composed one of Orario’s most powerful groups of adventurers and artisans. Wil’s voice shook as he yelled as loud as he could: 

“Wh-why, how did you find us?!” 

“Oh, we’ve known about this little ploy for a while now. So we’ve been keeping a close eye on your target.” 

Wil’s face tensed in a mix of shock and disbelief. At the same time, Tsubaki’s lips pulled back into a smug grin as she spoke. 

Loki Familia, realizing that Rakia’s army had been avoiding a decisive battle, had figured out their true objective. Working together with the Guild, they had ordered that Hestia Familia—especially Welf—be put under surveillance. 

“So I was bait, was I…?” 

Welf’s anger was palpable as he yelled at Tsubaki when she finished explaining to his father and the Rakian soldiers. That was the reason why she had kept showing up—even at the Dungeon—over the past few days. 

Tsubaki shrugged off Welf’s fiery glare as a deity appeared next to her. 

“My children have captured the reinforcements you had stationed outside the warehouse. Be grateful.” 

“G-Goddess Hephaistos…?!” 

Wil recoiled at the appearance of the goddess who wore an eye patch similar to but on the opposite side of Tsubaki’s. 

Hephaistos’s eye patch, beauty, crimson eye, and hair were instantly recognizable all over the world. Her sudden appearance stunned even Rakia’s soldiers. Wil fired back with a tone that bordered on insanity. 

“This isn’t over! We still have our magic swords—the power of Crozzo is on our side!” 

He lifted the sparkling red blade in his grasp—the Crozzo Magic Sword—high into the air. An anxious chill ran through Bell and the members of Hephaistos Familia. 

It was one of the last legendary magic swords said to be able to “burn away the sea.” Tsubaki’s expression became far more severe in the face of a weapon perfectly suited to take on superior numbers. 

Hephaistos remained calm and composed. She cast her gaze onto the still silent Welf. 

Rakia’s soldiers were invigorated by Wil’s call; each drew their own magic swords one by one. 

“Welf, come with us if you don’t want to see the city become an ocean of flames!” 

Wil called out to his son, with eyes that had long ago lost their vigor now burning from ghastly desperation. 

“Well, didn’t plan for that. So, what to do…eh, Welfy boy?” 

“All of you stay out of this.” 

“Welf!” 

“You, too. Trust me.” 

Tsubaki called out to the red-haired man walking toward his father. But Welf didn’t look up when he responded. When Bell also took a few steps toward him, Welf flashed a grin over his shoulder. 

A look of relief washed across Wil’s face as his son came closer. 

“That’s right, Welf! Now come, hand over all the magic swords you brought!” 

Welf continued to walk toward his overjoyed father but came to a stop ten paces in front of him. 

Everyone in the warehouse watched with bated breath as Welf reached into the roll of white cloth he carried over his shoulder. 

The young man withdrew a single dark-crimson longsword from within the mass of blades contained inside the cloth. Then he raised it. 

“This is all I got.” 

“What…?” 

“Yeah. This is the only one I made.” 

He declared that at his home and workshop, this was the only Crozzo Magic Sword there was. 

It was then that Wil realized that Welf had brought all the other weapons wrapped in the cloth to help him break away from their clutches. His face instantly changed from surprise to burning red with rage. 

Welf simply said there was no way to forge a magic sword in less than half a day and shrugged. 

“Already forgotten what I told you, foolish boy…? Orario will become a hellscape…!” 

Welf interrupted his father’s trailing protests. 

“That sword in your hand is the only real Crozzo, isn’t it?” 

“?” 

Bell, Tsubaki, and all of Hephaistos Familia reflexively leaned closer to the two men in the center of the warehouse after hearing those words. 

Only Hephaistos herself was unaffected as she watched the tense scene play out. 

“Spending some time cooped up in my shop was just what I needed to cool off. Even if that many magic swords survived the purge, there’s no way Rakia would let them all out at the same time.” 

Just like his family, Welf knew the Kingdom of Rakia pined for its glory days when Crozzo Magic Swords reigned supreme, and was therefore very attached to them. They wouldn’t risk the few magic swords that remained on a plan that might or might not succeed. It was highly unlikely that this expeditionary force would be granted access to the remaining Crozzos in the first place. 

He had reasoned that their original plan must have been to reunite with their allies outside the city wall, armed with all the new Crozzo Magic Swords he had supposedly forged, and then trap Alliance forces in a deadly pincer. 

Welf had figured out that his return to Rakia was the bargaining chip, how his father had negotiated his way to acquiring one of their precious remaining magic swords. 

Wil stood there in shocked silence, all but confirming Welf’s suspicions. His allies did indeed all carry magic swords, but they were not Crozzo Magic Swords. Each of them exchanged nervous glances. 

Welf stood tall, confident. Wil took a step back in the face of his son’s sharp gaze. 

“Gah?GRHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” 

Wil’s eyes suddenly flashed as he howled with rage. 

“Stay back! Just one is enough to burn all of you into oblivion!” 

Another wave of nervous energy shot through the warehouse as the man holding the sparkling red blade teetered on the verge of losing his mind. 

Their fate would be determined by the flick of the wrist. Bell thrust out his right arm to unleash his own Magic at any moment. Tsubaki licked her lips, her hand nervously resting on the hilt of her thick katana, her right foot shifting closer to get the best jump possible. 

Amid all this tension, Welf said: 

“Do it.” 

His father froze. Welf’s red hair flicked to the side as he jeered coldly at the man. 

“Go ahead and try.” 

He grinned, flashing his teeth. 

His father must have gone past the breaking point because he ignored his allies’ calls to stop and took a step forward with the Crozzo Magic Sword held high above his head. 

“Y-you FOOLISH BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY!!” 

Then, before the red sword could fall— 

Before Bell, the High Smiths, and even Tsubaki could react— 

Welf’s eyes flew open as he slashed the dark-crimson longsword in his grasp with all his might. 

“—Raging Inferno!!” 

An explosion of flames rushed forward. 

At the same time, a wave of fire surged from Wil’s red magic sword to meet it. 

In front of all of Welf’s current and former allies, in front of Hephaistos’s intense one-eyed gaze, the young smith’s crimson flames absorbed and overpowered the red—and wiped them out. A roaring fire and a small mountain of sparks filled the warehouse, the heat blasting in all directions. 

Those who were caught in it were thrown off their feet; others dropped to all fours in a desperate effort to withstand the shock wave. Red hakama violently shifting around her legs, Tsubaki stood tall in front of her goddess to protect her. 

Then, when everyone’s eyes had recovered from the red glare enough to comprehend their surroundings… 

Bell and the other observers slowly looked up…and saw Welf, standing tall on both feet, and Wil, firmly planted on his rear atop the charred floor of the warehouse. 

Wil’s face froze in disbelief, when suddenly—CRACK! The red magic sword in his grasp fell to pieces. Welf’s dark-crimson longsword was not only still in one piece but sparkling with even more magic energy. 

The difference between the power of the two blades, as well as their limits, was plain for all to see. There was no comparison. 

The magic sword forged by the boy, who had coughed up blood working as hard as he could to improve his Status, was superior to the one forged by his forefathers, who relied on only their inborn talent. That was all it was. 

“…Why?!” 

Wil, absolutely dumbstruck as he stared at the remains of the magic sword, howled at his son. 

Trembling from head to foot, the last of his self-control disappeared and every pent-up emotion came raging out of him at once. 

“Why do you not forge magic swords when you have all that power?!” 

“…” 

“Why do you not use that power for your family—for your country?!” 

Welf didn’t respond to his father’s howls. 

With Bell, Hephaistos, and Tsubaki looking on, he tightened his grip on the magic sword in his hand. 

“Why is it you who can forge magic swords?! If it were me, if I had been born with the gift, by now…! Damn you, you worthless boy!” 

Wil climbed to his feet as he unloaded years of frustration onto Welf. 

The man’s eyes were bloodshot, not much different from a ferocious beast’s, as his cloak rippled around his body. “Are you still spouting that bullshit, that you can’t stand to see a weapon that’ll break? Weapons are disposable! You can just make another one!” 

That got Welf’s attention. He glared daggers at his father. But Wil didn’t notice and continued his rant. “‘Make more blades, bask in never-ending honor’—have you forgotten the teachings of the blacksmith nobility who obtained glory with magic swords?” 

With those words, Welf exploded. “What blacksmith nobility?! What honor?!” 

The young man’s voice cut through the air inside the blackened warehouse. Wil fell silent as Welf took several impassioned steps forward. 

A moment later, Welf’s clenched fist buried itself deep in his father’s cheek. 

“GEH!” 

The Rakian soldiers watched their leader fall to the ground in disbelief. Several stepped forward, drawing their weapons, but… 

“Stay right there!” 

Welf’s rage-filled warning made them freeze on the spot. 

While the howl of the High Smith instilled fear in the soldiers, it was intended for Bell and Tsubaki as well. 

“Stand up! On your feet!” 

“…!” 

Discarding his magic sword and white cloth full of weapons, Welf grabbed his father’s collar with both hands. 

Once Wil was back on his feet, lip split and bleeding, the red-haired young man delivered another blow. 

“UGAH!” 

“The ‘pride of nobility’? Have all of you forgotten the need that drives all smiths?!” 

The flurry of punches and verbal strikes drove Wil backward, but he raised his head, cheeks burning red with rage. 

Wil channeled that anger into his fists and threw a punch the moment that Welf’s face was exposed. It connected with the young man’s jaw. 

“Compared to honor, our futile desires are nothing more than trash!” Wil unleashed his mind and fist at the same time, making Welf recoil. However, the young man was quick to strike back. The dull impacts of their punches sounded throughout the warehouse. Knuckles dug into cheeks. 

Both men staggered, struggling to maintain balance as they exchanged powerful blows. Wil was clearly surprised by the strength of his son’s punches. Welf launched another verbal tirade. 

“The hell you callin’ trash?! Can’t hear you, you done-for old man!” 

“You…you…YOU FOOLISH BOOOOOOOOOOOOY!!” 

Overcome with rage, Wil knocked his son’s arms out of the way and jumped in close with his right fist held high. 

However, every time his father’s fist connected with his face, Welf was quick to counter with an elbow or a punch of his own. 

The onlookers, including Bell, watched in stunned silence, their eyes intently following every move. 

The current situation and their physical pain long forgotten, father and son continued to intensify their fighting. Nothing else mattered to them anymore. 

“A weapon only needs to be strong! Pretty words don’t change a thing!” 

Brown hair and red hair whipped back and forth with each blow. 

Both father’s and son’s faces were already a swollen mishmash of black and blue, with streaks of blood leaking from broken skin. Red droplets scattered every time another punch connected. 

His father’s fists continuously pummeled his face, but Welf held his ground. The young man refused to show any pain as he powered through the impacts and retaliated. 

“GHA…!” 

Wil lost his balance and staggered backward. Welf roughly wiped the blood off his face with his forearm. 

“Right now, I’m no different from any other guy who swings a magic sword!” 

“…!” 

“Is that real power? Is it our fate to keep making these things?” 

On one side, a Level 2 High Smith. On the other, a Level 1 descendant of fallen blacksmith nobility. 

Despite the absurdity of it all, Welf put all his being into every punch, his spirit behind every blow. 

“Of course it isn’t! It can’t be!” 

His father’s eyes went wide as Welf drove his fist directly into the man’s jaw. 

“A weapon is part of its wielder! A valued partner that stays by their side through thick and thin, carving a way forward! A piece of their soul!” 

“That’s…that’s nonsense…!” 

“As smiths, we have to take pride in providing that kind of weapon!” 

Catching a glimpse of the white-haired boy out of the corner of his eye, Welf delivered three more blows. 

He poured all his soul into his blood-splattered fists. 

“…We’ll have nowhere to go if we get run out of the kingdom! The name of Crozzo cannot survive without the glory of nobility! We will not survive…! Why can’t you understand that?” 

The bloodline had lost its noble status, its pride. The moment the family was exiled, it would lose the only way that Wil knew how to live and would die out before long. 

The only way to save their family was with magic swords. 

Wil insisted that the power lurking in their blood, the magic swords it could produce, was the only path to their salvation. His powerless punches barely connected, but his voice was still as passionate as ever. 

“You’re alive, aren’t you? Your hands can still swing a hammer, grasp metal!” 

“…!” 

Welf grabbed his father’s collar and pulled him in close. 

He glared directly into the older man’s eyes, his throat trembling as he shouted: 

“A hammer, metal, and a burning desire! With those, you can forge a weapon anywhere! Nobility, kingdom—they don’t mean shit!” 

Wil bore the brunt of his son’s rage as Welf tried desperately to make his father see the truth that was in plain sight. 

Hephaistos watched as Welf repeated the words that were on the verge of being forgotten. 

“—‘Listen to the metal’s words, lend your ears to its echoes, put your heart into your hammer’! You and Granddad taught me that, didn’t you?” 

A smelly workshop covered in soot. 

His youth, when he worked alongside his father and grandfather, putting hammer to metal. 

A time before the latent abilities in his blood awakened, when the disgraced family was determined to make a new name for itself without magic swords. A time when three generations of smiths came together to make that a reality. 

Days that had once existed in their past. 

Welf awakened those memories in his father. Wil’s eyes quivered. 

Flexing the powerful muscles in his arms and tightening his grip on his father’s collar, Welf was nearing tears as his voice exploded once again. 

“Where did that pride go?” 

Those words hung in the air, echoing throughout the warehouse. 

They lingered in the ears of Rakia’s soldiers, the High Smiths, and Bell. No one moved. 

His breathing ragged, Welf kept his grip on his father’s cloak and broke off eye contact by looking at the floor. 

Wil’s face was an absolute mess. The older man’s eyes widened, and he let his arms drop. 

All focused on the two smiths. A thick stillness descended on the warehouse. 

“Enough.” 

An old man’s voice broke the heavy silence. 

One figure stepped forward from the group of Rakian soldiers and pulled back his hood. 

Welf’s shoulders trembled the moment he saw the man’s eagle-like eyes between his white hair and white beard. 

“Granddad…?!” 

“Father…!” 

Welf continued to stare at his grandfather as Wil turned to face him. 

Garon Crozzo. 

Quite muscular despite his advanced age, the man stepped into the moonlight with his spine straight and head held high. He was even taller than Welf, over 170 celch. The former head of the Crozzo family, he and his son Wil were the ones who had given Welf his foundation as a smith. 

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Welf had learned what a smith should be by watching this man shape metal to his will. 

The red-haired young man did his best to hide the shock of learning his grandfather had come to Orario as well. 

“…Granddad, you came here for the same reason as…” 

“I did. I, too, was called upon to ensure your return.” 

Welf stepped away from Wil, gaining some distance before turning to face his grandfather with his fists ready. 

The eldest Crozzo, however, cast his gaze on Wil, who’d fallen to his knees. 

“But, enough.” 

“…!” 

“Your will is too strong, much like tempered steel.” 

The corners of Garon’s lips curved upward, sending a jolt along Welf’s spine. 

Never once in all his life had Welf seen his grandfather smile. 

“Back when you were still a youngster, I was never sure if forcing you to make magic swords was the right decision…Looking at you now, it’s my greatest regret.” 

There was a great deal of remorse in his low voice. 

When his talent was discovered seven years ago, and Wil was dead set on forcing him to forge one Crozzo Magic Sword after another, Welf had looked to him for help. Instead, the elder Crozzo had stared down at his grandson with an emotionless face and said, “Do it,” in no uncertain terms. 

For Welf at the time, Garon himself was the very essence of a smith. Receiving that direct order was an incredible shock and pushed him to the brink of despair. That event had become the main reason Welf ran away from home, from the Kingdom of Rakia, to start a new life. 

Hearing his grandfather’s true feelings caught Welf by surprise. But there was an edge to Garon’s expression. 

“However, the blood in your veins will never disappear. The curse of Crozzo will hound you for the rest of your days, endlessly drawing you back to the path of magic swords,” Garon continued, eyes burning with a passion that time hadn’t taken away. “Despite this fate, are you certain your will won’t bend?” 

His words had a great deal in common with Tsubaki’s; their content was almost identical. 

They both pointed to the makings of the blacksmith and whether or not he would access the power hidden in his blood. 

He hadn’t been able to say anything to Tsubaki. At that time, a feeling of powerlessness had shaken his will. 

That was then—this was now. 

Standing before his father and grandfather—his link to the Crozzo family—reminded him of a conviction he couldn’t afford to bend. 

“No way in hell!” 

Welf responded to Garon without missing a beat. 

He let his level of devotion be known, especially to Tsubaki, who was standing not too far away. 

“I’ll forge a weapon that puts magic swords to shame! Our bloodline means nothing, and I’ll prove it! I’m not just a Crozzo—I’m my own man!” 

He would make a weapon his way, something that wasn’t a Crozzo Magic Sword. 

He put words to the ambition that drove him to create something godlike. 

“…Cheeky young’un.” 

Garon narrowed his eyes after Welf made his case. 

Almost as if he was happy to see how much his grandson had grown. 

“We won’t pursue you any further.” 

“But, Father! If we don’t…our place in the kingdom, it’s as good as gone…!” 

Wil looked up from his crouched position, voicing his objection to Garon’s decision. 

Every muscle in his wizened face strained under his bloody skin as he pleaded to the elder Crozzo. The old man responded calmly. 

“We will start over. Not as blacksmith nobility but as smiths.” 

Wil couldn’t say anything back. His gaze slowly dropped to the ground as he clenched his trembling hands into fists. 

Then Garon made eye contact with his grandson. 

“‘With a hammer, metal, and a burning passion, a weapon can be forged anywhere’…was it? You couldn’t be more correct.” 

Garon looked away from Welf and over to the goddess who had taught him this valuable lesson. 

He narrowed his eyes down to a sliver, as if trying to peer straight through her, before going into a deep bow. 

“We surrender, oh Goddess. The responsibility is mine and mine alone. Please have mercy on my companions.” 

“…Fine, then. I shall.” 

Hephaistos slowly nodded, accepting his declaration of defeat. 

No one among the Rakian soldiers voiced any objection. Their defeat had been a foregone conclusion the moment that Wil’s Crozzo Magic Sword shattered. Completely surrounded by High Smiths, they knew they were in no position to resist. Dropping to their knees and discarding their weapons, they held out their hands for the members of Hephaistos Familia to tie them up. 

“Idiot.” 

“…” 

Tsubaki busied herself with restraining the soldiers but still found time to get in a verbal jab even without looking at him. 

Welf could hear the disappointment in her voice as she led the prisoners away, but he said nothing. 

He stood in the center of the charred warehouse, battered and bruised as he watched Rakia’s soldiers be escorted out the exit and toward Guild Headquarters. 

His father, Wil, and grandfather, Garon, hands tied behind their backs, were among them. 

At the last possible moment before leaving through the open doorway, Garon flashed him one more grin. Welf burned that image into his memory. 

Even once his family members were gone, Welf continued to stare at the open door like a statue. 

“Welf…” 

Bell and Hephaistos had stayed behind. 

They looked at the red-haired man, standing alone in the moonlight shining in from overhead. 

The light of magic-stone lamps started to fade from the streets of Orario as night came to an end. The moon overhead became faint as the eastern sky took on a lighter hue. 

Welf sat cross-legged beneath the last of the night sky as it steadily became brighter all around him. 

He was on the roof of the warehouse. High above the ground and doing his best impression of a stone statue, he kept to himself without saying a word. 

“…” 

Bell stood a little ways behind him, unsure what to do. 

The clash with the Crozzo family behind him, Welf wanted to be alone. So he had climbed up to the roof, taken a seat near the edge, and hadn’t moved since. Bell understood the young man wanted some space and kept his distance. 

He’d been outside in the chilly night air for several hours now and was very cold. However, the white-haired boy couldn’t just leave the young man behind. 

Unable to find the right words, he settled for staring at the man’s back the whole time. 

“So, the two of you were up here.” 

“Lady Hephaistos…” 

The clanging of the goddess’s boots against the steel roof announced the arrival of Hephaistos. Bell turned to face her as she walked up behind him. 

She came to a stop shoulder to shoulder with the boy, squinting her left eye as she observed the young man beneath the sky that grew brighter by the moment. 

“Bell Cranell. Can you leave this to me?” The deity asked if she could be alone with the smith. 

Bell stood wide-eyed for a moment but responded with a short nod. He made a quick bow and left the situation to the goddess before climbing down off the roof. 

Hephaistos walked up to the young man as the boy’s footsteps grew fainter in the distance. 

“The Rakian soldiers are now in Guild custody.” 

“…” 

“Their path of entry has also been revealed. An informant let them inside on the promise that they would start a war. Their main objective was to acquire you, though whether or not there were others remains to be seen…” 

Welf remained sitting with his legs crossed even as Hephaistos gave him a factual update on the current situation. 

She wasn’t looking at him, though. Instead, her eye was focused on the open skyline as she continued her report. 

“The Guild will negotiate with Rakia to pay for their release. Even if talks fall through, they’ll be released outside the city once things die down.” 

“…I see,” whispered Welf after hearing the fate of his father and grandfather. 

Daybreak had arrived. The two were side by side, watching the sunrise. 

“…Am I out of my mind?” 

Welf finally said something as sunbeams reached out to them from the eastern sky. 

His decision to leave the blood in his veins in the past and find a different route to a higher realm occupied his thoughts. 

The young man’s gaze didn’t leave his lap as he spoke to the goddess. 

“Maybe. Who knows?” 

“…” 

“Tsubaki is not wrong. Children like yourself are only allotted a brief window of time. In order to reach where we deities stand, you must commit everything you are toward accomplishing that goal.” Hephaistos laid everything out plainly. “But,” continued the goddess as Welf pushed his lips together, “you’ve made a commitment, have you not, Welf?” 

“…I have.” 

“Then never doubt yourself. There’s nothing more fragile than hollow steel.” 

Then the Goddess of the Forge turned to Welf and smiled. 

“If there’s one thing that we look for in children, it’s a will powerful enough to make the impossible possible. We want to witness that moment when the children called heroes overcome incredible odds and fight when all hope is lost.” 

All deities wanted to look upon “children” who defied logic and reason. The goddess said in a soft, gentle voice that she knew of the potential those like Welf possessed. 

“…I will catch up to you—my way.” 

Climbing to his feet, Welf reaffirmed his ambitions to the goddess. 

There was no uncertainty left in his voice. He squared his shoulders and looked directly into Hephaistos’s eye. 

“Is only catching up enough?” 

“…I’ll surpass you.” 

The eye next to the black bandage squinted, as if the goddess was enjoying the moment. Welf also cracked a grin. 

Hephaistos’s expression was something similar to a mother taking pride in her child’s growth. Then she reached out with her right hand. 

She started to run her fingers through his hair, gently patting him on the head. 

“—Wh-what do you think you’re doing?!” Welf tensed, blushing bright pink as he swatted the goddess’s hand away. 

“Oh, you don’t like this?” 

“I-I’m not a kid anymore! Do that to someone Bell’s age!” 

“Hee-hee. It’s really cute how you try to act like a big brother. I like that about you, actually.” 

“!!!!!!!!!!!” 

Hephaistos enjoyed a lighthearted giggle as Welf’s ears burned bright red. 

Indeed, he put on the air of the eldest brother around his new familia, but he couldn’t maintain it in front of this deity. 

“Dammit,” he swore under his breath, and hid part of his blushing face with his forearm. For a moment, seeing that smile from the fiery-colored deity nearly made him fall for her. He scolded himself for it. 

But more than that, the fact that he couldn’t say anything back reaffirmed the feelings that he had for her. It was just as Tsubaki had said: He admired Hephaistos as a goddess, as a smith—and as a woman. 

It had started as an ambition to make something equal to or greater than the Goddess of the Forge. His goal was to show her that he could create something in her league or even something beyond it. 

But that ambition changed little by little each time he stood in her presence. 

He was the same as Bell, plain and simple. An immense respect and admiration had quickly become a longing for his idol. The weapons she created were what caught his attention, but he soon fell for the goddess who forged them. 

He wasn’t naive enough to call it infatuation, nor was he formal enough to call it love. 

I’d prefer to call it…an occupational hazard. 

He continued to look at the side of the goddess’s face, with his smile and blushing cheek hidden by the palm of his hand. 

“…Or so you say. But is it true?” 

“?” 

The sun had almost completely emerged on the eastern horizon. Welf, who’d been getting teased this entire time, folded his arms across his chest and said that something didn’t add up. “I heard from that woman…from Tsubaki that you’ve been lonely since I left.” 

A blank look took over Hephaistos’s face. 

“Haaa…” A long sigh soon followed. “…My word, that child cannot keep a thing to herself.” 

She was neither flustered nor angry. She was just complaining about this slipup by one of her familia’s most well-known members. 

With Hephaistos admitting the truth right away, Welf had lost his only way to retaliate. But at the same time he was also a little sad…Finding out that she didn’t see him that way sent a twinge of pain through his heart. 

What’s more, realizing that Tsubaki’s choice of words had given him hope in the first place now made him want to curl up in a little hole and die. 

“Well, yes, it’s been much too quiet without you around. ‘Haaa, another one of my children has left the nest.’ That kind of empty feeling.” 

“Okay then…” 

Welf was too embarrassed to make eye contact despite her gentle tone. Instead, he stretched out his shoulder and squeezed the muscles with his other hand. 

“I would never say this to any of my followers…but you’re no longer in my familia, so yes, I’ll say it. I had my eye on you and couldn’t wait to see what you would become.” 

Hearing his goddess’s true thoughts once again threw Welf’s feelings into chaos. 

That was most likely the highest compliment she could give him as the Goddess of the Forge. As a smith, there was no greater honor. It made his body tremble. 

Whether or not Hephaistos knew what was going through Welf’s mind, she turned to face him with a twinkle in her eye and an evil grin on her lips. 

“And I was going to reward you if you ever forged something that satisfied me…Too bad.” 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her left eye, obviously teasing. At the same time, a switch flicked on inside Welf’s head as he looked at the crimson-haired, crimson-eyed goddess. 

“Is that still on the table?” 

“Is what still on the table?” 

“If I bring you a weapon that makes your jaw drop, will you still reward me?” 

Hephaistos, caught off guard for once, stuttered, “Y-yes. Yes, if you can,” to the young man whose cheeks were now as red as his hair. 

His rash attempt to secure a promise from another familia’s goddess a success, Welf took it a step further by harnessing the passion once again burning within him. 

“If I do…if I make a weapon that satisfies you, then I want you to be mine!” 

He said it. 

Welf overcame his reservations, as well as the roaring of his heart thumping in his ears, and watched Hephaistos carefully. 

After hearing his once-in-a-lifetime confession, the stunned goddess…tried to hide a giggle behind her fingertips. 

“I-I’m putting my neck out there and you…!” 

“Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee…! S-sorry, but I just…can’t help it…!” 

With her free hand on her stomach, the goddess’s body swayed as she laughed. In fact, her lungs were in pain because she couldn’t breathe. 

Finally calming down enough to wipe the tears flowing out of her left eye, Hephaistos smiled at him. “It’s been so long since I’ve had those words said to me.” 

“Huh?” Welf froze on the spot. Hephaistos continued. 

“Several of my followers a long time ago…Smiths confessed their love for me, just like you did.” 

Welf had become nothing more than a breathing statue. The Goddess of the Forge smiled at him with her left eye. “You’re being outdone by your predecessors.” 

Now he really wanted to die. 

This time, death sounded really, really good. 

An urge to jump off the roof shot through his body. 

Why are we all like this…?! 

Stubborn to a fault, it seemed smiths could confess their feelings only to someone far superior. Welf grabbed his beet-red head and cursed every smith who ever lived, including himself. 

Hephaistos continued to giggle to herself as the mortal experienced even more agony. However, her expression quickly became subdued. 

“However, not a single one succeeded.” 

Welf’s ears perked up. He raised his head from his hands. 

There was a grin on the goddess’s lips, the grin of someone issuing a challenge. 

“Will you be the first?” 

Welf forgot to breathe. He couldn’t even blink as the crimson-haired goddess looked right through him. A confident smile appeared on his face a few heartbeats later. He looked her square in the eye. “You bet I will.” 

He would make a weapon that surpassed magic swords, belonged in the higher realm, and exceeded this goddess’s expectations. 

Now he had more goals to achieve. 

The morning sun warming the side of his face, he exchanged glances with the goddess. 

“Still…all this talk about me being yours aside, it’s about time for you to find a partner of your own.” 

She must have been satisfied with Welf’s mental recovery because she changed the subject as she stretched her arms in the early morning light. 

At the same time…“Huh?” Welf tensed again, blindsided by her words. 

“You’re pretty stubborn, but I’m sure you can find yourself a great girl.” 

“H-hang on a sec! I’m not fooling around here…!” 

“Welf, there’s nothing to gain by pursuing an immortal like myself. A family will never happen.” 

Hephaistos forced a smile to try and stave off Welf’s latest advance. 

“Not to mention I don’t meet the standards of a true woman.” 

There was no sense of belittlement or self-scorn in her voice. The words naturally came out of her mouth as she reached for her right eye—and ran her fingers down the black bandage. 

“There’s a face under here that’s so hideous it’ll make you cringe.” 

“…!” 

“Strange, isn’t it? A goddess like me. I’ve never been able to figure it out, no matter how much thought I put into it. I was ridiculed by the other deities in Tenkai, constantly laughed at.” 

Her fingers softly ran down the bandage as she did her best to smile. 

The Goddess of the Forge, Hephaistos. 

The one with power over fire and metalwork possessed a “hideous” face unbecoming of a deity. 

Gods and goddesses were supposed to be the living embodiment of perfection. And yet, even with her divine powers of Arcanum, Hephaistos had been unable to do anything about the true face that made her the Goddess of the Forge. 

She had avoided interacting with her own kind, been called “grotesque,” and been laughed at throughout her entire existence. 

“To this day, there’s only been one goddess who didn’t laugh or jeer at me after seeing my true face—Hestia.” 

Hephaistos’s cheeks relaxed as she explained why there was a strong connection between her and the young goddess. Why Hestia was her one and only friend. 

“Even the ones who sought me out on Gekai became afraid. So please, don’t pursue this any further.” 

She flashed a meek grin before turning away from Welf. 

The young man watched her take a few steps, her back getting smaller. 

Welf stayed rooted to the spot for a moment before his eyes opened wide and he caught up with her in a few long strides. 

Although he knew it was on the verge of blasphemy for him to do so, Welf reached out and grabbed Hephaistos’s shoulder. Then he pulled her around to face him once again. 

Face-to-face with the shocked goddess, he reached out toward the black bandage with his left hand. 

“Wh-what are you doing?!” 

Ignoring her startled voice, Welf pulled the bandage off her face, his fingers gliding against the fringe of the deity’s crimson hair. 

Hephaistos didn’t budge. This was the first time for the young man to see both her eyes. 

The true face of the Goddess of the Forge was revealed. 

Standing slightly shorter than he, Hephaistos only stared up at him, crimson pupils trembling. As for Welf—his expression didn’t change in the slightest. “Meh,” he said with a shrug. 

The corners of his lips pulled back into a grin. “Come on, Lady Hephaistos, that’s nothing. Did you think I’d give up on you for something like this?” 

He gently placed the bandage in the goddess’s hands and gave her a resolute grin. “This is nowhere near enough to quell the fires you stoked in my heart.” 

The deity looked up at him for a few moments before slowly reattaching the black bandage that served as an eye patch. 

With almost half her face now covered, she lightly shook her head, crimson hair waving in the morning light as she looked at her former follower. 

“You certainly talk the talk.” 

“Now we’re even.” 

“Haaah! Smiths. Every single one of them stubborn and hating to lose.” 

Hephaistos returned his grin and added her own verbal jab. 

Welf knew he had finally taken a point back from the goddess. One look at her clear expression brought a shadow of pride to his face. 

The two stood beneath the sunrise. Surrounded by cool morning air, the young man and the goddess exchanged smiles. 

Later that day. 

Only those directly involved with the small-scale Rakian invasion knew what had occurred. Even most Guild employees were kept in the dark. 

Guild higher-ups thought that informing the public would do more harm than good, so they dealt with everything themselves. The captured enemy soldiers were held in chambers deep in the Pantheon, far out of sight. 

Life in Orario continued as normal, the citizens unaware of what might have happened had events turned out differently. 

Amid all that… 

“And then Welf—you know what Welf did?” 

In an office of the workshop, the voice of an exceptionally chipper goddess echoed off the walls. 

“You’ve told me seven times, Ladyship…” 

Hephaistos sat in a chair, cheeks in her hands and elbows on her desk. Tsubaki held a large stack of paperwork in her arms as she gave her goddess an annoyed glare. 

Ever since their conversation, Hephaistos had been going on and on about the moment that Welf captured her heart. Plain and simple, she sounded like a teenager with a crush. Of course when she was in front of him, and in front of her followers, she maintained the dignified air of a goddess. However, that was not the case in her private quarters. 

Softly blushing, Hephaistos began to recount her story with a giddy grin on her face. Tsubaki let out a long sigh and braced herself for the eighth time. 

“Sure took you long enough to find your feminine side…” muttered Tsubaki through gritted teeth. 

She was clearly frustrated that her high-spirited goddess hadn’t done any work all day. “Now you’ve done it…” she whispered out the window at the smith who had finally found a way to get back at her. 

Even later that day. 

As with Tsubaki, Hephaistos was unable to keep her story secret and spread the news even further. Other gods and goddesses knew every detail about her interaction with the man before nightfall. The line that had stolen her heart became a punch line. ““““Lame—!”””” Everyone had the same reaction, and the entertainment-starved deities had something to provide them with laughs for a long time to come. 

The naming ceremony of Denatus was scheduled for the next day. With this story fresh in their minds, they decided the young man’s title quickly and decisively. 

Henceforth, Welf Crozzo would bear the title of…Ignis, the Ever-Burning. 

And so it was that the young man was forced to endure a giggling Lilly and Hestia, a moved and inspired Mikoto and Haruhime, and Bell’s forced smile whenever the origin of his title was mentioned. 

He had to hide his blushing cheeks every single time.