by Fujino Omori
“Um, Mr. Welf, about that…”
“Yeah?”
“Would it be okay with you if I watched…?” I manage to ask as he looks over the palm of my hand, specifically where the hilt of the blade would sit.
I really want to see what a smith does and how weapons are forged. Coming all the way out here has piqued my curiosity. Mr. Welf works his way up my shoulder as I’m trying to picture what’s about to happen in this place.
Mr. Welf doesn’t know how to respond to my honesty. “You’re a strange one,” he says while tilting his head to the side. But he agrees to let me stay.
I promise over and over not to get in his way. I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting excited, but my cheeks are suddenly very hot.
“It gets pretty damn hot in here; it’d be a good idea to take off your armor.”
“Eh, ah, yes.”
Not really understanding what he meant, I follow his directions.
Down to my undershirt, I set all of my armor in the corner and turn to face Mr. Welf. He’s in the opposite corner, next to the forge…lighting a fire.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Heating up the drop item.”
“You’re going to burn the monster’s horn?!”
I yell out in surprise despite promising I wouldn’t interfere just a moment ago.
Animal horns are just like bone, aren’t they? Well, I’m not sure, but…they’ll turn to ash in a fire…?
“There’s something like metal inside a monster’s horns and claws.”
“Metal…?”
“Yeah. Ever heard of adamantite?”
Adamantite…I feel like I’ve heard of it before, but I can’t place it.
All I can think of is that it’s an extremely rare metal…
“Adamantite can only be found in the Dungeon. When it comes to making weapons, it’s the best stuff out there. Very sturdy.”
“People find it in the Dungeon?”
“Yep. Sometimes pieces of it just fall out of the dungeon walls, like the monsters. But that’s once in a blue moon. Every so often I hear of someone finding it in the upper levels, but most adventurers bring it up from much deeper in the lower levels.”
It can only be collected in the Dungeon…That means that it can only be found in Orario.
Apparently, adamantite weapons are a specialty of Orario’s. Since it’s a very difficult material to acquire, its value puts magic stones to shame.
“…So then, it’s possible that monsters born in the Dungeon have adamantite inside them…?”
“Hit the nail right on the head. Exactly. On the other hand, it’s not as pure as the stuff that comes out of the dungeon walls. It’s a bit weaker.”
In that case, it might not be strange that monsters born in the Dungeon are affected by this material.
Mr. Welf tells me that only a few of them have adamantite in their fangs and claws, but they’re perfect for making weapons.
…This horn. This horn broke that thick cleaver during our battle.
“Minotaur Horns also have a metallic element to them. Heat them up just right, and you can shape them at will.”
Okay, now I get it. He’s going to make the Minotaur Horn hot enough to forge, just like a piece of metal…This is just the first step.
An image of the red-hot horn pops into my mind. It kind of looks like a piece of candy.
From there, Mr. Welf is going to take all kinds of tools to it, just as if he were working with metal.
“Sorry to bug you, Bell. Could you open the door and the shutters up all the way?”
“N-no problem.”
Mr. Welf wraps a hand towel around his head at the same time he speaks to me.
I go around the room, opening every window and door.
I turn back around to find Mr. Welf poking and prodding at the fire he just started. There is a rock at the base of the forge, a drop item from a monster known as an Inferno Stone…The flames it can produce are so intense that average people can’t buy one.
“Just like adamantite, this horn ain’t gonna bend unless I heat it just right.”
Mr. Welf keeps his eyes glued to the forge while talking.
In no time at all, a roaring flame erupts from the stone and intense heat swells within the forge. The heat wave reaches me a moment later. I’m a good distance away from it, but I’ve already broken a sweat. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I still had my armor on.
Mr. Welf is completely focused on adjusting the temperature within the forge. I sit back down in my chair and watch from behind.
It’s still only midmorning. I don’t even think an hour has passed since I got my lunch from Syr. I bet Babel Tower is swamped with adventurers making their way into the Dungeon by now.
Yet here I am in a dim room, surrounded by gloomy back streets with only this forge for light.
Looking at the massive furnace, its red mouth wide open, everything feels mysterious.
I can only see part of Mr. Welf’s face, but his intensity matches the flames that dance in front of him.
“You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
“Huh?!”
“Come on, ask away. We have a direct contract. I don’t want to have any secrets.”
A few moments pass in silence. His preparations complete, Mr. Welf withdraws his face from the forge and looks at me.
I freeze on the spot, stunned by his sudden request…How did he know?
It’s not that I have a specific question to ask him, but there’s something that’s been on my mind for a while. Every time I hear about Mr. Welf, my curiosity grows and grows to the point that if I’m not careful, the words will spill right out of my mouth. I guess he must’ve caught on.
He has a gentle aura about him. A light smile on his lips. I can see a look of trust in his eyes…At least I think so.
I swallow all the spit in my mouth and take that first step to finding the answers from Mr. Welf himself.
“Why don’t you…Why don’t you make magic swords, Mr. Welf?”
I can still remember how happy he was when I became his client.
If he would just make magic swords, he would have more clients and money than he would know what to do with.
He already has a famous name that would draw in people from all over. That’s the power of the Crozzo family.
I have to know the reason why he doesn’t even try.
“Well, there are a few reasons, but…”
His mouth curling into a grimace, he casts his gaze back into the flames.
“I hate magic swords.”
Then he starts to explain the reason why he despises them so much.
“Truth is, I told you my work doesn’t sell, but I’ve had a ton of clients…Nah, still do.”
“Eh……?”
“It’s so simple that it makes me sick. All these people see my armor and weapons in the shop, but once they see my signature, ‘Crozzo’…they come knockin’ at my door, beggin’ me to make a magic sword for them.”
Mr. Welf pumps more air into the forge, using a tool at his feet.
“They completely ignore my work, it’s all just magic sword, magic sword, magic sword…That’s all everyone other than you ever said. I know and realize I don’t have much experience, but…You know? It hurts.”
The slightest of wrinkles appears below his mouth, the only dark shadow on a face blanketed in an orange and red glow.
A magic sword that is said to be strong enough to burn away the sea, probably the strongest ever. Everyone was after the magic swords of the Crozzo name, not Mr. Welf’s armor or weapons.
None of the customers who came to him looked him in the eye…Could they only see the value of the Crozzo bloodline?
All they saw were the magic swords.
“Um, Mr. Welf…How did, um, you know…”
“Yeah, things went downhill fast. Lots of yelling. ‘Get lost, you bastards!’ and ‘Who would listen to the likes of you?!’ I chased
them all away.”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha…”
I’m lost for words; all I can give him is an empty laugh. However, I get it. I understand.
He’s angry at the people who wouldn’t give his armor and weapons any attention. Well, part of it could be that he’s angry at the Crozzo blood flowing within him.
I hear what he’s saying and I get it…But.
“Um…Is that the only reason?”
I feel like there’s something more.
He said he hates magic swords, but there has to be a deeper meaning.
“…”
An answer doesn’t come right away.
Taking his eyes off the forge, Mr. Welf walks over to his workbench and looks down at the Minotaur Horn. Picking up a chisel and hammer, he sets to work on breaking the horn in two.
After about fifty shrill impacts, the Minotaur Horn finally splits right down the middle. Setting the relatively larger half off to the side, he carries the smaller half back to the forge and sits down.
“Do you know why the Crozzo family can make magic swords in the first place, Bell?”
He pinches a piece of the horn with a special tool and thrusts it deep into the heart of the flames.
“I don’t…” I respond as I watch him move onto the next step in the weapon-making process.
“There was once an ordinary man named Crozzo. It was his descendants who made his name what it is now. We call him The Ancestor. All this happened before the gods came down here.”
We call the time before the gods came to this world “the Old Age.” That era ended about a thousand years ago.
The Crozzo family history can be traced back that far?! Wow…
“The story goes that The Ancestor was a smith down on his luck. Nothing would sell. And of course, he couldn’t make magic swords. However, it’s beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’s the one who started it all.”
A breath.
“The Ancestor risked his life to save a member of a certain species from a monster.”
“A certain species…?”
“A fairy.”
—“Whaa?!” My voice hits the floor in shock.
Mr. Welf smirks at the surprise on my face and continues his story with even more enthusiasm.
“The fairy did everything it could to save the life of the man who was bleeding out on the ground. It cut part of its body and gave him some of its own blood.”
“S-so that means the Crozzo family has…?”
“Yeah. We’ve got fairy blood in us.”
—Fairies.
Nymphs, spirits, elementals, jinn…Their mysterious race has many names here on Earth. Their population is extremely small compared to the other races.
“The most loved of all the children.” “Children of the gods.”
Humans and demi-humans have many stories about them, but the one common thread is that fairies are the ones closest to the gods themselves.
“The Ancestor made a full recovery, like nothing ever happened. A full-blown miracle. However, after that day it was said that he could use magic despite being human…and he could make magic swords.”
Fairies are capable of so much that other races pale in comparison.
They’re magic users, like the elves. They can call forth flames, summon wind, create their own ponds deep in the forests, and even produce precious metals out of thin air.
It might be accurate to say that their power rivals the gods’.
Basically, they can perform miracles.
“So did, did the Crozzo family become heroes…?”
“Nah, nothing like that. Good or bad, The Ancestor was just regular townsfolk.”
Fairies appear in many stories, especially stories about heroes—and many of those stories are based on truth. Gramps told me that.
The fairies in those stories use their power to guide the young hero, sometimes lending him strength, and using their power of miracles to help him fulfill his destiny when the time comes.
Usually, they impart magic on the hero or give him a powerful blade, not unlike what Mr. Welf just said. I even heard about a fairy who turned its own body into a weapon.
Fairies play a big part in heroic deeds of the main characters in each story, and are sometimes directly involved.
In the time before the gods, having a fairy on your side would have been the equivalent of a Falna today.
“The Ancestor died at a ripe old age, but his blood was passed on. It’s probably due to more fairy magic, but it’s still around today more than a thousand years later. The gods and goddesses who witnessed everything from above can tell that I’m a member of that line.”
It’s said that once the gods came down to this world, more fairies began to interact with other races. Be that as it may, most of them avoid us. I don’t know if they’re whimsical or too proud.
Gnomes are a race of fairy that lives alongside us very well. They may look like little old men and women, but their knowledge about jewels and valuable materials has made them a valuable part of our society.
Blessings from the gods and goddesses have made fairies less appreciated compared to the Old Age. However, their mysterious nature still captivates human and demi-human alike.
“Even though they had the fairy blood of The Ancestor within them, the first few generations couldn’t do much with it…That is, until a Crozzo received a god’s blessing. That changed everything.”
“…Skill?”
“Yep. One that let them make magic swords. Every member of the family acquired it the moment they received their blessing. Nothing to it.”
A hidden potential awakened within them as soon as a Crozzo family member received a Status.
Even after all this time, that fairy’s power is still at work.
“Li’l E already told you what happened next. Magic swords were much more powerful than anything else available, and the Crozzo family sold their work to their king.”
Mr. Welf explains that by this time they had become subjects of a kingdom.
To sum everything up, The Ancestor used fairy blood that was given to him in order to make magic swords before any family members received Falna. Then they became known as a family of magic swordsmiths because…that blood they all shared unlocked the ability to create powerful magic swords.
The source of the Crozzos’ fame comes down to the quality of their bloodline.
“They really lived it up after that, doing whatever the hell they wanted. Their swords granted the king’s armies unbelievable power; the compliments from the king himself and rewards for their work kept flowing in. They stuffed their faces with the finest delicacies, nearly drowned themselves in expensive ale…Smiths behaving like royalty—what were they thinking?”
Mr. Welf’s words trail off in hesitation, his eyes not leaving the flame.
Silence falls.
For the longest time, the only sounds in the workshop are those of the crackling flames in the forge.
“…The Crozzos got full of themselves. They forgot that they owed everything to the fairy blood in their veins. Started thinking that their Skill was their power, that magic swords were their right…Blinded by greed, they kept making more and more.”
—“So they were cursed.”
Mr. Welf speaks more clearly than he had all morning.
“The kingdom used Crozzo’s Magic Swords in war after war…earning the hatred of the elves in the process by burning down their homes…”
“I-I know.”
“It wasn’t just elven hatred they wrought, but that of the fairy who saved The Ancestor as well.”
“?!”
“Fairies love to be at one with nature. They surround themselves with it. The magic swords scarred their mountains, scorched their ponds, annihilated their forests…Just like the elves, the fairies were chased out of their own homes.”
This was the source of the elves’ grudge, just like Lyu said.
Did Crozzo’s Magic Swords become the fairies’ sworn enemy, like how
the elves swore revenge on the Kingdom of Rakia?
“The elves took out their anger on the country. But the fairies, their grudge was with the Crozzos.”
“…”
“And then, just before another battle like any other, all of the magic swords crumbled without warning. Never-been-used magic swords, fresh out of the forge. It goes without saying that the kingdom lost that battle without its greatest weapons.”
“Did the fairies do that?”
“I’m sure of it. At the same time, the Crozzos lost the ability to make magic swords. They were cursed by the fairies.”
So that’s what it means to be cursed…?
When did my shoulders get so tense?
“The kingdom lost over and over after that. The Crozzo family took the blame and was stripped of nobility. That’s the fall from grace. By the time I was born, there was nothing left from the old days.”
From heaven to hell. You reap what you sow, I guess…
That explains the Crozzo family’s fall into ruin.
But, wait. Hold on a second…
“You said that the Crozzos couldn’t make magic swords, right? But I’ve heard you can, Mr. Welf…?”
“Yeah. I can. No clue why.”
Maybe the effect of the curse wore off, or maybe the fairies were satisfied with their revenge. There might also be something special about Mr. Welf.
Even though the reason is unclear, the one thing that he’s sure of is that he’s the only Crozzo who can make magic swords right now.
But Mr. Welf ran away from home and broke free from the Crozzo family…He says that he was nothing but a wanderer when Lady Hephaistos found him.
“I know they were trying to restore the family name, but I’m grateful to my old man for cramming all these forging techniques into my head. Thanks to him, I learned the joy of creating something useful.”
My body feels a few degrees warmer. I’ve completely lost track of time, but Mr. Welf seems to know what’s going on. Sensing the right moment, he pulls the drop item out of the forge and places it on the anvil.
Although the piece of Minotaur Horn is still in its original shape, it looks like it could melt at any moment, glowing red like that.
“Probably because I didn’t hate it. I didn’t hate being a shop hand, working alongside my old man and his tools in a workshop covered in soot.