by Fujino Omori
Inside is a full set of shiny, white light armor.
The shape is a little different from what I was using before…but there’s no mistaking it, this is his work!
“So how ’bout it? Will you try it out?”
“Eh? Umm, isn’t this yours…?”
Is that a strange question? Because as soon as I finish speaking, he blinks a few times before smiling like a kid in a toy store.
He looks me square in the eyes before saying, “Yep, it’s mine, all right…I forged it, you see.”
“—Huh?”
“Please allow me to introduce myself, fan number one. The name’s Welf Crozzo, currently a low-level smith belonging to Hephaistos Familia. Want an autograph?” he says with a genuine smile on his face. He has a very brotherly aura about him…Mr. Crozzo gazes at me for a moment as I try to collect my thoughts.
“Seriously? You’re Little Rookie?! The new record holder!”
“N-not so loud…What you mean by ‘record holder’?”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, so what else could I say?
There is a small rest area on the eighth floor of Babel Tower, right next to the elevator entrance. Mr. Crozzo and I are having a conversation on chairs just inside the rest area.
After we met in the shop, he asked to talk to me in private and led me out here.
I guess he wants to talk to me because apparently he’s sold only two pieces of his work in the past, and I’m the only one who’s come back looking for more.
Everything that’s happened to him up to this point…doing everything he can to get a good reputation from the store and yet being treated like trash, the first item of his that sold was returned to the store, the underhanded tricks that his fellow smiths in Hephaistos Familia had used to get their way…He told me quite a bit.
He seems to have lost himself in the excitement that someone wanted to buy his work. Sure, he looks rather grown-up and mature, but every so often he starts laughing. I know I just met him, but he strikes me as a good-natured, wear-his-heart-on-his-sleeve kind of smith.
“You really are younger than me. Then again, age doesn’t matter much to adventurers, does it?”
The moment I finish introducing myself, Mr. Crozzo lightly tilts his head to the side. His red hair swishes slightly at the same time.
He has a very masculine face and speaks with a lot of confidence—like an honest worker who would never go back on his word, always sitting up straight and facing forward. I know this is coming from someone who can only roll with the punches, but he looks really cool.
His build isn’t all that robust—actually, he’s rather thin—but I can see the bulging muscles around his shoulders and chest because the collar on his robe-like jacket is very loose. There is no doubt in my mind that they were built up over many hours of hard work in a forge.
“Um, Mr. Crozzo, can I ask how old you are…?”
“Nineteen this year. One other thing: Could you stop calling me Mr. Crozzo? I’m not particularly fond of my family name.”
That’s a strange thing to say right in the middle of a conversation.
He tells me to call him by his first name. But, not only is he older than me, he made an armor that I really liked. I should show him more respect…but since he insists…
“Well, um…Mr. Welf? You said you wanted to talk to me about something…?”
“Hey, hey, what’s with the ‘Mister’?…Eh, not important now. Okay, here’s the deal.”
He stands up from his chair and looks down on me from above.
The box of armor parts from the shop is at his feet. “I made them, so it’s no problem if I take them, right?” He had said that to the clerk, took the box off the counter, and brought it out here when we left.
“To be completely honest, I don’t want to lose you.”
“?”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s weapons or armor, my stuff doesn’t sell. I don’t want to sound too full of myself, but I know I’m making good, high-quality pieces. The only other thing I’ve sold was returned almost immediately. I can’t figure it out.”
“…”
Pyonkichi…I want to tell him maybe the problem is the names he gives to his finished pieces, but I can’t bring myself to say it to his face.
“Despite all that, here you are. An adventurer who recognizes the value of my work.”
“And that means…?”
“You came to buy my armor again, my work. That makes you my customer, my client. Am I wrong?”
Well, when he puts it like that…it sure sounds like it.
Even when I was wading through the forest of armor, I never considered anything else but Mr. Welf’s work.
“Truth is, lower-level smiths like me have to fight over clients, steal them from each other. Once one of us gets famous, everyone and their mother will go to them, asking for weapons and armor. The same is not true for the unknowns. We fight tooth and nail to talk with adventurers, get their advice, and sell our work. That’s the world we live in. You with me so far?” he asks.
I struggle to nod.
Fighting over clients…They have to figure out if someone will be a loyal customer or not. It’s the most basic part of the business world. Also, should an adventurer become famous, the maker of the weapons he or she uses would also become well known. Their name would become famous even if that smith lived in obscurity until that point.
I wouldn’t say adventurers become walking advertisements…but it looks like the connection between smiths and adventurers is far more important than I originally thought.
“Oh, it’s important, all right, when a smith’s work is recognized by an adventurer. Like I said before, you recognized my armor. There is nothing that could make a smith happier than that. You’re my first, so I don’t want to let you get away…I can’t let that happen.”
Despite his rather coarse choice of words, he always keeps that same brotherly smile on his face.
He may be a little overbearing at times, but I can’t help but like and respect Mr. Welf as a person.
He’s a good man, a good smith.
“So then, you would like me to continue to be your customer?”
“While you’re right about that…I’m after something a little bit more permanent.”
Mr. Welf’s face turns from a warm smile to a shrewd grin.
“Would you sign a direct contract with me, Bell Cranell?”
—A direct contract?
Seeing the look of confusion on my face, Mr. Welf sums it up for me.
It’s a contract that binds individual smiths and adventurers together in a mutually beneficial relationship.
Adventurers bring drop items back from the Dungeon for the smiths, who in turn use them to make strong weapons for the adventurers at a reduced price.
Mutual benefit. Smiths and adventurers helping each other out.
And the icing on the cake: Weapons tend to have stronger characteristics when they’re made for a specific person rather than for general sale.
So that’s what Eina had been talking about.
“Are…are you sure it’s okay?!”
“Hey, hey, that’s my line. You’re already Level Two, and I’m a no-name, low-level smith who hasn’t even learned the Forge Ability yet. When you think about it, this isn’t that fair, is it?”
I’m about to say that’s not true at all, but when I think about it again, he has a point.
If I try to tell Mr. Welf otherwise, it will sound less like modesty and more like sarcasm to him.
It takes a great deal of effort, but I manage to stop myself from speaking and close my mouth.
At the same time that I’m thinking, Mr. Welf leans over and wraps his arm around my neck, pointing my head in the direction of other shops. I can see a smile on his face out of the corner of my eye.
“Have a look over there, past all the swords, axes, and shields, to those guys standing there. They’re staring right at us.”
“Y-yes…”
The gazes of many humans and demi-humans meet right where we are.
It’s almost like they’re expecting something to happen…
“All of those guys, they’re after you. They want to sign a contract with you, just like me.”
“Huh?”
“Not just you. For better or worse, all adventurers who level up to Level Two are targeted. That’s the difference between lower and upper class, my friend.”
S-seriously…?
My head still locked firmly in place, I shift my eyes to look at Mr. Welf’s face.
He’s sending all of the other smiths a very smug look, as if he’s already won. “Well, that’s how it is,” he says with a grin and releases me.
“I want to be your go-to guy for smithing. If I sit back and twiddle my thumbs, some other smith is gonna sign you, and I’ll lose my first customer. So I have to pull out all the stops to get you first.
“And it’s really good for my rep if I can sign an adventurer with a lot of potential like you,” he adds with another laugh.
“…On a bit more of a personal note, your Level doesn’t really matter to me, believe it or not. Never thought there would come a day that someone would say they want my work, after looking at all the other options out there…You get it?”
“…”
“It’s like, this awesome feeling inside me just piling up, you know? It’s a smith’s badge of honor,” he adds shyly.
Finally able to read between the lines, I’m not happy that he’s after a direct contract from the start.
He went a little overboard putting on this show. But the thought of the two of us novices working together warms me to the idea.
I don’t really understand it myself…but I think it’s a good sign.
“…All right, then. I’ll sign a direct contract with you, Mr. Welf.”
“That settles it! Don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d said no!”
I stand up and take his outstretched hand.
“Looking forward to working with you, Bell,” he says, his face beaming with enthusiasm.
Not only is his hand bigger than mine, it’s as hot as a furnace.
“We’ll worry about the official contract later, but for right now…”
He vigorously shakes my hand up and down as he speaks.
The other smiths who were watching us droop their shoulders and turn to leave. Mr. Welf is putting on another show to let them know he won.
After watching the last one go, Mr. Welf immediately releases my hand and drops his head in apology.
“I know this is a little early…but would you be willing to do me a favor?”
My eyes pop open as I look back at him.
“Of course, I’m not expecting you to help me for nothing. I’ll make any and all equipment you need for free.”
“HUH?!”
“Don’t be so surprised. It’s common sense that adventurers want items from smiths, right?”
Not even in my wildest dreams did I think that I’d ever get a new set of equipment for free.
If what he’s saying is true, then I don’t need to replace anything else that was broken…
All of the muscles in my face suddenly let go; I’m sure I look like a dumbfounded idiot right now.
“Here it is. You ready?”
“…”
I hold my breath and wait for his next words.
“Let me join your battle party.”
CHAPTER 3
THE SMITH’S SITUATION
“Finally, the eleventh floor!”
Mr. Welf pats his lower back a few times, his weapon over his shoulder as he announces our arrival to no one in particular.
Just like he so vigorously said a moment ago, we’re on the eleventh floor of the Dungeon.
We’ve just stepped off of a very wide stairwell and into the room that serves as the starting point for this floor. Just like the tenth above it, a thick fog fills every room on this floor except for this one.
With nothing to block my vision, I can see that the floor in here is covered in ankle-high grass just tall enough to hide my boots. There are also several dead trees scattered throughout the room. Monsters can use these landforms as weapons.
“Didn’t you say this is the lowest you’ve ever been, Mr. Welf?”
“Yep, that’s right. Sorry about this, Bell. I’ve thrown a lot of information at you since we met.”
At first I was really surprised when he asked to join my battle party yesterday, but after hearing why, I invited him right away.
We’d already agreed on a direct contract so there was no reason to refuse him. I was looking for another battle party member, too, so I’d call it a win-win.
“Don’t worry about it. And this is all to get Forge, so I’m already involved as it is…”
“Glad to hear you put it like that.”
Mr. Welf’s request was to help him level up so he could acquire the Advanced Ability called Forge.
That ability is a complete game-changer for the smiths who acquire it. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say it can make or break the future for a smith. Mr. Welf explained with a very sad look in his eyes exactly how much more his fellow smiths in Hephaistos Familia could do as soon as they leveled up.
Normally, whenever a member of any Familia goes into the Dungeon, they form a party with other members of the same group…
“It’s a little embarrassing to say this myself…but what’s their deal?! Whenever a battle party goes into the Dungeon, I’m always left out! Can you believe that?”
…So, that’s what’s going on.
Mr. Welf needs high-quality excelia in order to level up, but since his allies always kick him out, he’s had to work solo. Therefore, going deeper than the top few levels is impossible—no one can make it out in one piece. So he started looking to join battle parties with members of other Familias as a last resort.
It sounds like the members—smiths of Hephaistos Familia—have to overcome many obstacles on their own, as well as engage in friendly competition with other smiths in order to improve. But the Forge ability—in other words, leveling up—is the equivalent of life and death for a smith. Since they’re all in the same boat, most form deep friendships as they fight their way through the Dungeon…
I asked Mr. Welf why he was always left behind, but all he said was, “They’re just jealous of my hidden talents,” in a really sullen voice. I wonder what’s really going on…
Mr. Welf must have noticed me looking at him as he scratches his head. He drops his shoulders and flashes a warm smile.
“In any case, I’m grateful, Bell. Familias tend to be picky about who they work with, but I’m glad you could throw that way of thinking out the window.”
“W-well, um…I couldn’t exactly refuse, not after receiving all of this…”
Mr. Welf smiles at me again. I take another look at my new equipment before smiling back at him. It can’t be helped.
The armor on my chest sparkles like new, even in the dim light.
“…Lilly heard that we had a new friend, but what’s this? Mr. Bell’s trust was bought by such simple things?”
A very annoyed voice cuts into a pause in our conversation.
A bead of sweat rolls down my cheek. Lilly’s disapproval of the arrangement came across loud and clear. I look over my shoulder to see her a few paces behind, hands clamped firmly on the straps of her backpack and a very irritated look in her eyes.
I tell her there’s a misunderstanding, but from her point of view, it really might look like I was bribed.
At this moment, I’m wearing the new light armor set that Mr. Welf made for me.
The set isn’t all that different from my old equipment. It’s a plate of armor over each knee and a breastplate, along with two ruby-encrusted wrist guards that cover my forearms all the way up to my elbows. A little fancier than before.
It’s just as light as the last one. Mr. Welf said that the material is a little thicker, but
I can’t feel that much of a difference. It takes time to adjust to a new set of armor, but it feels like I’ve been wearing this for years.
It’s not that I didn’t want an armor that my body was used to…but, yeah, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.
The pressure from Lilly’s half-eyed gaze is so strong that I can’t even crack a grin.
“Oh, Lilly’s sad. Very, very sad. It was supposed to be a nice, easy shopping trip, but Lilly’s hopes were completely dashed and now we’re stuck with a problem…Mr. Bell’s kindness is making Lilly cry.”
The sheer sarcasm in her voice is like a body blow. But Mr. Welf’s armor can’t block that…!
But what does she mean by “problem”…?
“Isn’t that going a little too far, Lilly?! Mr. Welf’s not trying to do anything bad…There’s no problem, just a misunderstanding!”
“—What is Lilly misunderstanding?! ‘Until an ability is acquired’? He’s just taking advantage of us! And isn’t this too-perfect timing to find a party member?! As soon as this no-name smith meets his goal, he’ll leave and we’ll be back to where we were before! One step forward, one step back! This is a complete waste! There’s no light at the end of this tunnel!!”
Her eyebrows sink lower with every word, her eyes sharpening like daggers.
Her relentless barrage attacks me from every angle, a swarm of verbal bees coming out to protect the hive. At this rate, she’ll break me in half!
The way Mr. Welf is looking at me…It’s too pathetic…!
“Why didn’t Mr. Bell talk with Lilly before adding someone to our party?! Why, Mr. Bell?!”
“Was…Was that bad…?”
“Not bad, no, not bad, but if Mr. Bell doesn’t talk with Lilly first, Lilly might get in trouble! Lady Hestia entrusted Lilly with making sure Mr. Bell is safe!”
R-really? The goddess asked her to do that…I guess that’s how little she trusts me.
I can feel my head drooping as I look back over at a still very hostile Lilly. I get the feeling that the real reason she’s angry has nothing to do with Mr. Welf.
Maybe she’s trying to take care of me…No, that can’t be right.
She must think it’s dangerous for me to be doing things on my own and wants to keep me under her thumb. Probably.