Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The Blacksmith and the Affectionate Master-Disciple Bond (End)

“...A little...?”

My flustered words rang softly through the workshop.

Daidros’s eyes widened, and in the end, he grabbed my shoulders.

“A little? Why is your answer so vague...?”

“It’s not as if I can speak with every soul... After touching the pendant, only my master...”

Because Daidros was shaking my shoulders, I answered incoherently in confusion.

“Master?”

At my answer, Daidros stopped shaking my shoulders.

“...My master.”

“Who is this master? Ah, in other words, I am asking about the owner of this pendant.”

“...Her name is Lady Sierra.”

“Sierra... Sierra... Ah, you mean Purple Moon. You were the disciple of Purple Moon...”

Daidros seemed to remember Sierra, as after repeating her name, he muttered her epithet, Purple Moon.

[ To call my embarrassing nickname so carelessly... How shameful... ]

Sierra, who had popped out of the pendant again at some point, grumbled.

After confirming Sierra’s form, Daidros pointed at her and asked me.

“Could you perhaps tell me what she is saying right now?”

[ Absolutely do not tell him, Disciple! I do not want to converse with such a fellow! ]

At Daidros’s question, Sierra shouted. At the ringing that felt like my head was being stabbed, I held my head for a moment.

“...Uh, she says not to tell you.”

“Hah, Miss Sierra seems to be quite shy. Come to think of it, I have not asked your name.”

“My name is Zeto. Lady Sierra’s first disciple... and her last disciple.”

As I introduced myself, I held out my hand to him.

“Zeto... I have many names, such as Daidros, Gregor, Iseval, and more, but since you came looking for Daidros now, Daidros should be enough, yes?”

It was an introduction only possible because he was a dragon who had lived hundreds of years, passing through the lives of many different people.

Like that, I shook hands with him.

“Her last disciple... yes, if you came here... then her illness must have worsened in the end.”

Daidros was someone who had lived for a long time. There must have been countless people in his memories... perhaps because Sierra had once been famous, once he recalled her, he even recited detailed information.

[... ]

When Daidros brought up Sierra’s illness, a shadow began to fall over Sierra’s face.

She must hate that illness so much, since it was the reason she died and the reason her resentment formed.

“...Still, I think it is truly fortunate that I can converse with her even like this.”

While answering Daidros, I comforted Sierra.

“She certainly remained active for a while, then disappeared at some point... I thought she must have entered closed-door training, but it seems she was teaching a disciple.”

“She did enter closed-door training. After she came out, she met me and took me in.”

“I never imagined she would take in something like a disciple, but to think she had been hiding one secretly... Hahaha! This is why one ought to live long.”

Daidros soon muttered something like, “What an interesting picture,” and carried the materials to one corner of his workshop.

Taking out a fountain pen from somewhere, Daidros looked at me and opened his mouth.

“...Even I cannot guess why you can converse with souls. You do not possess divine power, nor have you learned necromancy, have you?”

“That’s right. I don’t have anything in mind either...”

There was only one thing that came to mind.

The existence of the “blindfold,” but I could not obediently tell this dragon about that.

“Conversing with souls... Even most people with divine power would find it impossible. Unless they are on the level of the noble ‘Saintess,’ perhaps...”

“...Could a Saintess converse with souls?”

I asked Daidros that in order to draw out information.

Since I had built a step in advance regarding my relationship with the Saintess by meeting Antony and Emilia before, I had to take this chance to learn for certain.

“The Saintess... I have not met the recent Saintess... Oh dear, I cannot quite remember which number Saintess she was...”

Daidros suddenly looked up at the ceiling, retracing the library of memories in his head, where countless books must be piled up.

“...It was a very long time ago. In those days, wicked things like cursed blades overflowed. I was also crazily making those things. Back then, I was young too, so I found the sight of the world falling into chaos terribly amusing.”

Daidros was absolutely not someone of a good disposition. Should I say he had come to his senses now... He seemed to be living relatively quietly.

“One day, the Saintess personally led her own order of knights and came storming to me. She walked straight up to me and slapped my cheek. ‘Do you not pity the resentful souls unable even to leave the world?’...I am certain that is what she said.”

Daidros continued reciting the story of the past. It was a story I had not heard even in the game, so it was extremely fascinating.

“That Saintess slapped my cheek several more times, then finally shed tears. The cheek I was struck on back then still aches occasionally. Unlike how she looked, her hand was rather harsh.”

Daidros grinned as he spoke. It was as if the emotions of that time had revived while he was retracing the memory.

“I answered the Saintess, who was crying in such an unbecoming way. I asked whether she was speaking on behalf of those souls. Then she said this. From the moment she came here, the cries of the souls had been piercing her ears. Please stop, she said...”

A single tear fell over the raised corner of Daidros’s mouth.

But he was not crying.

“After that, until she died... I did not make cursed blades.”

As I listened to his story, a question arose in me.

“Um... Perhaps this is not a question I should ask, but... if such a story exists, why are you making them again?”

At my question, Daidros shook off the tear and answered.

“Haha! Because perhaps someday she will come to me again and slap my cheek... It is a tantrum of my own, I suppose.”

With that hearty laugh, Daidros ended his recollection of the past.

After shaking his head this way and that, Daidros could be seen scribbling something onto paper with his fountain pen.

After hearing his story, Daidros somehow looked different.

Was he, in his own way, honoring her?

Or did he truly wish that, like a miracle, she would come back to life and visit him?

I could not know which it was.

I could only think that he too had such a story.

I had thought Daidros was merely a character who was nothing more than a mad dragon pretending to be an artist.

...I did not know everything either.

For now, thanks to Daidros, I seemed to have obtained information that a Saintess could communicate with souls.

“Then... was it your opinion? To make a cursed blade, I mean.”

While writing, Daidros suddenly asked me a question.

“Yes. After sending Master away and touching the pendant, I could feel Master’s soul. The conversation began then as well...”

I responded appropriately to Daidros’s question. Perhaps because Sierra knew the circumstances too, she said nothing.

“I had hoped, if possible, for human madness, the desire to grow stronger, or some empty ambition... But an affectionate... ‘love’ between master and disciple...”

“Love?”

At Daidros suddenly bringing up love, I hurriedly asked.

“There are many kinds of love, are there not? A disciple cherishing his master, and a master allowing herself to become a cursed blade for her disciple—could that not also be a kind of love? Have I interpreted this story incorrectly?”

“Hmm...”

Listening to Daidros, I thought that from another person’s perspective, it could only look like that.

“Well, if that is love, then it is love.”

I answered like that, considering Daidros’s romantic artist temperament.

I thought that if there was a good story, he might make the cursed blade better.

Daidros nodded and moved on easily, but the person beside me did not seem able to do the same.

[ Hrrrr... Disciple... Even if it is a lie... I am a little embarrassed... ]

Sierra covered her face with her palm and twisted only one finger aside, looking at me through the gap.

Her face was strangely red.

I did not know why the face of someone who was only a soul could turn red.

“This, this... A true masterpiece will come out. I like this story. The affectionate love between master and disciple. Dare I write this story, Zeto?”

Daidros, having finished writing, spread his arms left and right as if acting in a play and asked me.

“As long as you make it well, I do not mind.”

“Of course. For such a masterpiece, one must spare nothing, no matter what it is. Even if I must open my own storehouse, I will be sure to complete this masterpiece.”

Daidros said he would open his own storehouse—that is, the storehouse of a gold dragon.

“Am I too lucky...?”

If this were in the game, it would be like words such as “Great Success!” had appeared while crafting a weapon.

“That is fortunate, Master.”

Since Daidros knew I could communicate with souls anyway, I openly spoke to Sierra.

“The more I see it, the more fascinating it is. This strange power that cannot be explained in words... Is this the power of love?”

Daidros watched me conversing with Sierra and spouted nonsense.

[...Y-yes! It is the power of love! My first disciple and my last disciple! I finally understand it now! ]

Perhaps Sierra lost her mind after listening to Daidros’s absurd words, as she was believing the excuse I had made up as the truth. Sierra’s focus was slightly hazy as she spoke.

“Haa... So how long will it take?”

I asked Daidros while cleaning up this mess.

“Because cursed blades are special, the process of making them is peculiar as well... Still, one week is enough.”

Fortunately, the production period for the cursed blade was the same as in the game.

Not only cursed blades, but other special crafted weapons also took, at most, about a month.

I nodded to Daidros in affirmation, approached him, and held out the money pouch inside my clothes.

“500 gold.”

It was the crafting fee.

In truth, to Daidros, who was overflowing with money, this amount had no great value.

“Good. I will do my best so that you will not regret coming to me.”

Daidros accepted the 500 gold I held out. He did not seem to check the amount separately.

Perhaps he simply did not want to provide free service. In any case, from his perspective, he was making a work of art.

Then now, it was time to part with Sierra for a while.

“I will come before I am late, Master.”

I bowed my head to Sierra in farewell.

[ Do not worry. I am accustomed to waiting, after all. A week will pass quickly for me. ]

Sierra’s solemn voice, as she stood proudly with arms crossed, rang inside my head.

That voice was more than enough to give me trust.

“Then I will see you in one week. Since this is a work that makes my passion well up after so long, perhaps I may finish it faster.”

Leaving Daidros’s words behind, I left the workshop.

One week.

Would it feel long?

“At last, the cursed blade will be completed.”

***

One week truly passed in an instant.

Because only a few days remained until the Labyrinth opened, classes were in the middle of education about the Labyrinth.

For me, who knew the Labyrinth’s system, they were merely boring classes.

Nothing particularly special happened over the week. At most, I sometimes ate together with Yuri.

Time passed, and I visited Daidros’s mansion once again.

The way there and the barrier around the mansion were the same as when I had visited last time, but what was different now was that Sierra was not floating around beside me.

Sierra must be inside this mansion.

—Knock, knock.

I knocked on the mansion door.

But this time, from far away, I heard the sound of someone stomping toward the door, and then the door opened urgently.

“You finally came!”

Daidros opened the door and welcomed me with a bright face. Daidros, whom I had met again after a week, was extremely excited.

“...It has been a while.”

I followed Daidros into the house.

“Ah, the cursed blade was completed a day ago. Truly... I have made many cursed blades until now, but this experience was the best.”

Daidros made a fuss in a continuously enraptured voice.

“Was it made that well...?”

I scratched my head while following behind him.

“First, it will be better to see it directly. Ah, rather than seeing... for you, you will only know by touching it.”

Daidros joked for quite some time, as excited as he was.

Like that, we arrived before a door that was especially luxurious even within the mansion.

“Originally, this is a room for receiving honored guests, but you are far more than an honored guest to me. I feel sorry that it is so shabby. Of course, to you, it must all be the same, but from my perspective, it bothers me, so please understand.”

“Haha, I’m fine.”

After Daidros finished his unnecessary additions, he opened the door.

As befitting a room for honored guests, the room had an even more luxurious interior.

Among expensive furniture and beautiful paintings, she was there.

Sierra.

The sight of her standing in this room was like a painting.

Her beautiful, long, flowing ink-black hair and her mysterious purple eyes were the same as ever, but...

Perhaps because the object containing her soul had changed, her attire had changed.

The red Eastern clothing suited her strangely well. It felt a little more elegant.

Even so, the degree of exposure was the same.

Her cleavage and shoulders were still fully revealed.

[ Disciple. ]

“...”

With a shy voice, Sierra approached me and embraced me.

Daidros watched us, then raised one corner of his mouth in a grin, shrugged, and tossed out a word.

“Hah, embracing the moment you meet... though you should not even be able to touch...”

Contrary to Daidros’s thoughts, I could touch her.

Sierra hugged me so tightly that her overwhelmingly large, soft chest was completely pressing against me.

[ One week... might have been a little long... ]

Leaving everything else aside, I could not breathe.