Chapter 42 The Smith Starts Anew
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Tatia, thank you for sharing the weight you’ve carried,” I said. “You also laid out the danger closing in on Whirlwind. I can see you thought hard before telling us.”
At my words, Tatia pulled a smile through tears. We’d only explored together for a day, yet she’d changed fast—and for the better.
I wanted to help. Still, Ethelena and I hit a hard limit.
”But we can’t join the suppression of those squires,” I said. “No—we wouldn’t be useful.”
”What do you mean?” she asked.
Tatia looked confused. This was the gap between knights and Explorers, and the different aims of the knight school and the academy.
”Tatia, let me ask you first,” I said. “From your view, can the knight school handle monsters?”
”…No,” she said after a beat. “Maybe shallow-layer Goblins. But Orcs, much less Ogres, are impossible. Even if they’re humanoid, human-on-human swordplay won’t land a lethal blow. Magic blades like a Burst Edge would bite, but they’d run out of breath fast.”
”Thanks for the honest answer,” I said. “Flip it—do you think academy Explorers can beat knight-school fighters?”
”…I see. That’s it, isn’t it?”
”Yeah. Ethelena and I never trained for human-on-human combat. On the surface, our tools don’t work on knights.”
In fights between people, you live on breath control and reading openings. At the end of the day, you win by feinting better and touching a vital point.
Monster fights are the opposite. You pierce shells and drain high life totals.
You need heavy weapons and Special Abilities. To kill monsters, you stop out-thinking and start becoming a monster—that’s an Explorer.
That’s what the old man worried about with Dalma. He’s run as an Explorer for years and knows monsters, but he lacks experience in reading human feints. No matter how fast and hard your strike is, if a shield soaks and redirects it, you show a fatal opening.
The old man asked me for “a weapon that smashes guard and all,” and that’s why I forged that axe. I don’t know if it hits the brief against elite knights, but against half-baked squires it should be fine. Dalma’s a veteran—he’ll live with that axe.
”You’re right,” Tatia said quietly. “Tatara-dono is a crafter—a maker. Asking you to fight was wrong.”
”My job is to supply what you need,” I said. “Lean on me for that.”
”I will,” she said.
She accepted it and pivoted fast. Good growth.
”For starters,” I said, “what about throwing incendiaries into tightly packed mobs?”
”…Incendiaries?” she asked. “What are they?”
I gave a quick rundown. Fuel payload would be fluid Mana Stone—small, efficient, easy to miniaturize.
As I talked, Tatia’s face went pale. Not just hers—everyone’s.
”Ta–Tatara-dono,” she said. “Could you… go easier?”
”Uh, then a flamethrower?” I said.
”Even the name sounds too violent…” Torakuma muttered.
”It just sprays fuel, lights it, and breathes fire,” I said. “You use it in dungeons to burn regenerating Ogres or plant-types like dryads and alraunes.”
”Tatara,” Ethelena said, “anti-monster tools are overkill on people.”
”But they’re calling themselves knights like Calmys,” I said. “If they can push Tatia back, I need to assume heavy Equipment on their end or I’ll worry.”
”If I become Tatara-dono’s enemy, he’ll turn those on me…?” Tatia whispered.
If you turn on me, I won’t hold back. From a grapple I’ll drive a magi-accelerated pile-driver.
It burns a mid-size Mana Stone per shot, but it hits like 500 Physical Attack with Pierce IV. My proud superweapon. Even Tatia would lock up for a while—she’d live, HP-wise, but still.
”Honestly, even if I pointed them at you, you’d live,” I said. “Without my armor factored in, I’m not sure I could even burn you.”
”I think your evaluation of me is too high…” she said.
No—you’d tank it somehow.
”Anyway,” she went on, “to fight knights we need more than gear. We must raise our levels and improve Abilities. Tatara-dono, can you craft accessories that boost base Abilities? Those feel more urgent than these mysterious pieces.”
She’d switched gears cleanly. Right— I hadn’t explained the Earthmother series.
”Honestly,” I said, “wearing those while leveling is way better.”
”…Is it?”
”Wear two from that set,” I said, “and each time you level up, every Ability ticks upward for sure. You’ve seen your stats rise on each level in the dungeon, right? Didn’t every stat go up at least by the level count?”
”…Eh?”
Prompted, Tatia pulled up her status.
Her face drained, bit by bit. Yeah—once you grasp what I handed you for free, that’s the reaction.
”…Tatara-dono?” she said.
”Now you see why I couldn’t explain then?” I said.
”If you’d told me back then, I would have bragged at school without grasping a thing,” she said. “Your choice was right.”
If she’d spread it then, it would’ve been deadly. Telling the old man would’ve dumped a world of trouble on him too.
No wonder even Torakuma tried to refuse that broken Equipment.
”Level-ups rarely raise stats on their own,” she said. “I didn’t even hold that basic lesson…”
”Well, if you’ve had the set on since level one, you wouldn’t notice,” I said.
”Why does it feel unfair to hear that from the one who gave it to me?” she grumbled.
Ethelena had also worn Earthmother from level one. Some growth rates were absurd; on a few stats she’d already passed me.
”For suppression,” Tatia said at last, “can you make nonlethal tools?”
”For example,” I said, “flash-bangs?”
”How do those break the foe?” she asked.
”They don’t ‘break’ them,” I said. “They throw out a blast of light and sound to steal movement.”
”Why wasn’t that your first thought for riot control…?” she asked, exasperated.
”Because I don’t want Ethelena in danger,” I said.
The company that made the game this world comes from wrote knights as trash on purpose. If squires pinned Ethelena and raped her because she couldn’t pull a trigger on a human, I would kill every last one of them—and their families.
I’d use everything in my Inventory and make it as ugly as possible. If that turned me into a target for elimination, so be it.
”Rest easy, Tatara,” Torakuma said. “I will protect Ethelena.”
”I’m worried about you too,” I said. “Men look at you that way. Be careful.”
”…When the one person I want to see me that way has already chosen where her heart goes, those compliments ring hollow,” she said.
I pretended I didn’t hear that last line. She probably didn’t want it called out.
”Think simpler,” Tatia said. “Can we physically stop their movement?”
”Like snaring them with a sticky semi-fluid that clings hard?” I asked.
”If you can imagine that, make that first,” she said.
”Households in Whirlwind already use something like that,” I said. “People throw a gluey trap to restrain thieves.”
For the record, I designed it. I copied a cockroach lure—scent that draws the pest in, then a glueboard that traps and kills—and it sold like crazy. Then I tweaked it into an emergency restraint for muggers and prowlers.
The city mayor brought the merchant guildmaster and asked for exclusivity. For once, something I made had reproducible steps; the patent pays five million a year. The mayor complained it was too cheap, but if we set it high and choke adoption, what’s the point?
I pushed the price down, more or less leaning on the guildmaster. She went a little pale and agreed.
Wives loved the household traps. Guards loved the throw-balls.
Of course bad people exist: some robbers used it to cover a retreat, and others used it to restrain victims for assault. I get why Nobel despaired when they used dynamite in war. Still, I can only hope most people use it right.
I’m starting to think my “non-replicable genius” only applies to metalwork and Mana Stone machining. Sadly, my Mana-strengthened copper fuses never took off.
Workshops sometimes order them, and the city mayor says accidents dropped after installation. If Shamir and Est spread them, we’d save more lives. I’m counting on them.
”Funny,” I said. “Inside Whirlwind town, damage might stay low.”
”We have tools,” Tatia said. “Like loading the trap-gun’s rounds with water and firing at flames as a portable extinguisher.”
That twist honestly impressed me. I built a cannon-type arcane gun so guards could fire the sticky rounds at range. The fire brigade repurposed it as a water launcher.
Some of them even train daily to get the Gun Aptitude skill. I loved that peaceful spin so much I walked the blueprints for special extinguisher rounds and the suppressant recipe over to the disaster guild. Rumor says the city mayor screamed about patents while signing; probably my imagination.
”…So the squire riot might not be that big a deal?” Tatia asked.
”No. Don’t relax,” I said. “We haven’t had civil war or invasion in Whirlwind for, what, a hundred years.”
Kids learn this in civics: despite a harsh world, Whirlwind rarely shows up in war records. Not zero, but because the city houses and monitors a Dungeon, nations agreed to an effective non-aggression.
The last time someone invaded—about a century ago—a Dungeon stampede hit at the same time. The enemy got dragged into the mess and it turned hellish. After that, they apologized and signed a treaty: nobody invades Whirlwind.
Instead, Whirlwind must handle monster floods internally. People say that’s when Explorers became active—to thin numbers.
Without that, the great hunts that killed my parents wouldn’t exist. After we graduate, they’ll make the same pitch to me and to Ethelena. Living in Whirlwind means that.
”If citizens take damage, the leadership pays,” I said. “The Defense Chief could be forced to resign.”
”My father… That is a problem,” Tatia said.
”Right—the old man… Wait, what?” I said.
Hold up. What about the old man?
”Don’t tell me—Rogas is the Defense Chief?” I said.
”You didn’t know?” Tatia blinked.
”No. He never said.”
You can’t even look up who holds which posts. Not because it’s secret—because no one keeps clean records.
”After the great hunt a few years back, they asked him to take the seat,” Tatia said. “He said, ‘It doesn’t suit me, but I want to protect the families of the friends who fell—and the things we staked our lives to defend.’”
”…That sounds like him,” I said.
He handled my parents’ funeral. I can imagine him doing that for household after household.
I don’t remember a Rogas in the original game. But his gear rings a bell: a deep-layer random encounter, the Black Wight King. A knight unit in ruined black armor and a nicked greatsword, after countless cuts.
If that was the old man’s end-state, then he lost his comrades—and Tatia—somehow. The game barely said anything; the art book threw us a bone: “Once a famed Explorer, he lost what he held dear and was swallowed by the Dungeon.” The names “Tatia” or “Orsaia” never appear. Maybe no one survived to tell it.
The original protagonist only cared about women, so backstory never surfaced and the analysis boards became a screaming pit. The city mayor wouldn’t talk to him about a fallen war buddy either.
Pick up another interest, you clown.
If you start hitting on Ethelena when the story begins, I’ll castrate you. I mean it.
”Tatara-dono,” Tatia said, voice steady, “if my father resigns as Defense Chief, how bad do you think the damage gets? Your best estimate.”
”Best case,” I said, “one civilian hurt is enough to trigger it. Worst, ten percent of the city.”
”About ten thousand victims,” she said. “At that level, I would accept a demand that he step down.”
Ten thousand…
In the original, the Defense Chief resigned after more than twenty thousand casualties. I lowballed it.
My real guess? If a thousand people get hurt, the old man resigns.
I gave Tatia a little hope, but if they run terror ops—suicide ones at that—one thousand comes fast. We’re talking hundreds of trained but green knights. Civilians can’t handle that.
If they burn homes and kill fire crews and wardens as they respond, the blaze spreads. Then ten thousand makes sense.
In Whirlwind, wood houses cluster in the slums, and at least five thousand people live there. Regular homes fall too if you hit them with strong magic. My house has a ward powered by Mana drawn from a spiritual vein, but top-tier magic still punches through, and it won’t repel a person.
My house matters—my parents left it to me. Ethelena has memories in our place too.
I have to keep squires out. If they break in and carry off Demonsteel gear, the damage grows. I keep the Special Ability weapons in my Inventory, but Demonsteel alone is bad enough.
”The more I think about it,” I said, “the less I can do for the whole city right now… Closest fix: rebuild our gate in Demonsteel, add anti-climb fencing, and install intruder deterrents.”
”A Demonsteel gate is wise,” Torakuma said. “Make the fence tall.”
”Four to five meters,” I said. “To ring the lot… we’ll need another dungeon run.”
With Ethelena and Torakuma here, boosting home defense makes sense. Tatia needs live reps in her armor too.
A four-person dive raises our baseline. If the floors match last time, the Troll tier might spawn some Muumin again. If we gather stat-up items, we can shore up everyone’s weak spots.
”About those deterrents,” Tatia said. “What do you plan to build?”
”Tag a breach in the ward and fire sticky rounds or Mana bullets at it,” I said. “We can embed markers in the fence to aim precisely.”
”The first one is fine,” she said. “Won’t the second kill?”
”People don’t die that easy,” I said. “I’ll hunt a lightning spirit stone and add the element to the Mana bullet so it just drops them.”
A magi-tech take on a taser.
Tatia’s face tightened. Attribute arcane guns exist; pairing one with an auto-firing mount isn’t hard.
The point-defense on surface and air warships should adapt. I’ll ask the city mayor about a personal-use patent and pay up.
”Oh—Torakuma, I wanted your take,” I said.
”On me?” she asked.
”I want to build you gear for work here. I’m thinking Mithril from our last haul.”
”Generous… Are you sure?”
She looked off-balance; Ethelena and Tatia nodded her on.
”Dungeon runs in street clothes or a knight’s uniform bug me,” I said.
”Not just Yohira-dono—I feel it too,” Tatia said. “Even if my body is tough, clothes alone unsettle me. If I mean to be a knight, I should mind my Equipment.”
She took the poke well. She’s learning to weigh how others see her.
If we hadn’t met, she might never have thought like this. I’m glad we did.
”Then I’ll accept,” Torakuma said.
”I’ll make you a dedicated weapon too,” I said. “That Demonsteel piece didn’t quite suit you, right?”
”It did,” she said. “Oni have great strength. We prefer to drive mass hard.”
”Ah. That tracks.”
So cutting with a katana was the oddity. Oni are famous for iron clubs for a reason.
Even so, her habits showed: one edge wore faster, like a katana bias lingered.
I should build to that. Maybe go extra heavy.
”Torakuma, what weight can you freely swing one-handed?” I asked.
”Hm… I can control up to twenty-seven kan as a weapon.”
Twenty-seven kan… call it around a hundred kilos.
If she can control that, I’ll forge a ninety-kilo single-edged Demonsteel blade. Oh—one more thing.
”If you could pick one iron piece,” I said, “what would you want?”
”Sudden,” she said, then nodded. “You meant that promise to craft one iron weapon. In that case… an iron fan.”
”An iron fan?”
Not what I expected. Still, that’s a light build—one ingot or so—and it’s doable.
”My mother taught me a dance,” she said. “Without a fan, I cannot perform it properly. If I am rusty, I’ll be punished. It also serves as an emergency hidden weapon. So—one iron fan, please.”
”Got it,” I said. “Don’t ask for ornament.”
”I won’t. It only replaces the one I used back home. I ask for nothing more.”
Now I want to overdeliver. I’ll make the balance perfect.
”By the way,” Ethelena said, “we’ve been talking forever… Chi-chan, time?”
”Mm—uwa! Thank you, Ethelena-dono. You saved me!” Tatia yelped.
She checked the clock, then shot to her feet. This keeps happening.
I swear I can see a future where she graduates from the knight school and… never leaves our house. Probably my imagination.
”Tatara-dono,” she said, “if possible, I want to dive the dungeon as often as we can!”
”I’m going too,” I said. “I need iron and Mana Stones. A party run is best.”
”Then we dive together. Until then!” she said.
She dashed off after a quick goodbye.
Busy girl. I sorted the intel she’d dropped and kept thinking about what I can do.
For now, I went to the workshop to keep analyzing the Floating Stone. Ethelena and Torakuma headed to the bath together like yesterday.
I tried to join and got chased out at full power. Have some restraint when Torakuma’s around.
I focused on the Floating Stone and ran Appraisal. Instead of reusing the angelic Flight formula I lifted from Tatia’s wings, I built a new one by reading the stone’s Mana interference.
I started at the crystalline shell: how does the Mana it emits convert into anti-gravity? I formed a working hypothesis—the lattice outlines a kind of sorcery array—then hunted overlaps between the Flight and Hover formulas.
Here’s what shook out: they target different things.
An Angel’s Flight interferes with the Mana in open space.
The Floating Stone interferes with the internal Mana of anything it touches. Nothing in this world lacks Mana, so it can lift whatever it’s in contact with.
Once I had that, I wrote it up. I booted my thought-input magic word processor and drafted a report: the shell’s bonds act like a Spell Formula; I copied the array, then added an efficiency pass of my own and laid out experiments to validate it. Appraisal pegged the stone’s reserve at about three extra-large Mana Stones—or one low-grade Soul Core.
It also absorbs ambient Mana to hold a constant charge. That makes it less a “special ability” and more like gravity caused by dense Mana. It might even explain why Soul Cores don’t run dry. I attached the conjecture as a note.
In theory you could build a giant Mana Reactor from this, but the scale isn’t practical. I sketched the bare-minimum materials and schematics and left it.
I listed required materials and sent the first report to the city mayor. Our bird golem—her frequent courier, poor thing—flapped off with a weary air.
I stretched and rolled my shoulders.
Sitting at the bench left them tight. A hot soak sounded perfect.
”…Done for now, Tatara?” Torakuma asked from behind.
I’d let my guard down.
Like yesterday, she leaned against the doorframe. Her look reminded me of Ethelena’s when she finds me buried in work—there he goes again.
”…Were you watching? Creepy,” I said.
”I came to say the bath is free,” she said. “You were lost in it, so I waited.”
I’d guessed as much.
How long had she stood there? Well, if she’s here, I can try something.
I pulled out small Mana Stones—seven hundred fifty—and fused them with Alchemy. Tens became mid-size stones.
Fives became large. Sets of five became extra-large. In the end I had three extra-large stones.
”…What are those Mana Stone monsters?” she asked.
”Extra-larges,” I said. “You can harvest them from young dragons.”
”And why do you have them?”
”Because I’m about to make something.”
I fed Mana into the bench and lit the magic circles. Arrays unfolded around the trio of stones and formed a spherical lattice in the air.
I bound the stones with Crafting while etching the Floating Stone’s anti-gravity formula across their surfaces. The circles compressed them; Crafting fused the outer layers and drove the charge inward; the pressure climbed.
Three head-sized stones shrank and darkened until a single deep-blue pebble sat on my palm.
Held to the light, its inside rippled like water. I checked with Appraisal.
”…Oh. Nailed it.”
”Nailed what?” she said.
I tossed it lightly. She caught it, frowned, and Appraised—then her face shifted through surprise into alarm.
”Ta—Tatara! What is this? Appraisal shows nothing!”
She sounded halfway between awe and fear. I let myself enjoy the prank, then explained.
”An artificial Floating Stone,” I said. “Appraisal shows nothing because the world hasn’t seen one before.”
”Haa!?”
I took it back and bled a thread of Mana into it. My body rose ten centimeters.
”‘Floating Stone’ is bland,” I said. “It lifts your body, so… call it a Floating-Body Stone.”
As soon as I said it, something in the air clicked. I Appraised again.
Accessory: Floating-Body Stone
Special Abilities: Flight, Mana Recovery I
Great.
A brand-new ability sprouted. Probably a side effect of the Mana-collection behavior.
”Here,” I said, flipping it to her.
”Eek—! It shows the exact name you gave it,” she said.
”That’s how Demonsteel and shape-memory alloy got registered,” I said. “I’ve lost count of how many times now.”
”At this rate, they’ll throw you out of the world,” she said dryly.
”Let’s not,” I said. “I’d prefer not.”
Don’t jinx it.
It feels… possible.
A chill walked my spine. I headed for the bath to heat it out.
A long soak, all the way to the bone. Yes.
Notes:
• Dalma – A massive, rugged Explorer with a burly frame and a presence that overshadows others, long considered a battle comrade of Rogas, Calmys, and the mayor. Straightforward and loyal, his trademark is entrusting everything to his allies—“makaseru otoko,” the kind who leaves even the forging of his great axe entirely to Tatara’s hands.
• Calmys – War God’s knight, Mayor’s guard chief, whip-master hiding as a swordswoman; sharp tongue, big-sister vibe to Tatara, grants him and Ethelena church protection.
• Rogas – Tatara’s father friend.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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