Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 5

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Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 5 Page 8

by Hiro Ainana


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  The usually reticent Mia wound up blathering on in Elvish.

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

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

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

  “Nyooom.”

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

  Argh, please just go to bed already!

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

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

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

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

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

  > Title Acquired: Fairy Sword Smith

  > Title Acquired: Heavy Drinker

  > Title Acquired: Lush

  > Title Acquired: Drunkard

  > Title Acquired: Friend of the Dwarves

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

  “Ugh… My head… Id hurds so bad…”

  “Nyoo…”

  “It hurts…sir…”

  “Satou. Medicine.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “F…fine. Don’t be long…”

  “We’ll be gooood.”

  “Pochi will be good, too, sir.”

  “Alcohol…terrible.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Mr. Don brought out a stack of spell books.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  They had only six kinds.

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

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

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

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

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

  So the scrolls I got were as follows:

  > Scroll, Earth Magic: Wall

  > Scroll, Earth Magic: Rock Smasher

  > Scroll, Earth Magic: Hard Clay

  > Scroll, Wind Magic: Air Curtain

  > Scroll, Ice Magic: Freeze Water

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

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

  “Welcome hooome…”

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

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

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

  “I liiiiive!”

  “All betterrr?”

  “Master, thank you, sir.”

  “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Hold haaands?”

  “I wanna hold hands, too, sir.”

  “Sure.”

  I held hands with Tama and Pochi as we walked.

  “Mrrrr.”

  “Trade spots with us later!”

  “Aaaye!”

  “Yes, sir.”

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

  …Oh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “A martial arts tournament?”

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

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

  “Sausaaage?”

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

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

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

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

  “I knew it—it’s mustard!”

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

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

  “Certainly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  There must have been mustard on my face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yes, please!”

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

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

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

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

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

  The workshop owner chortled at our outward daintiness.

  “The sparks are prettyyyy?”

  “It goes glub glub, sir!”

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

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

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

  “No.”

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

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

  “Mia, that hurts, I protest.”

  “Mm, sorry.”

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

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

  “Master, permission?”

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

  Nana’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

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

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

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

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

 

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