Chapter 45 The Path of Wings, the Forge’s End
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
A swarm of Orc Slayers charged in from the dark corridor. From above, Tatia dove into them, her wings slicing through the air.
But she struggled—each Slayer carried a Shirahadashi, letting them slip out of reach at the last moment. Even so, their counterattacks never landed; Tatia soared higher the instant they swung. She had mastered the rhythm of Flight.
The strongest one here, though, was clearly Torakuma.
Surrounded by multiple Slayers, she used Appraisal to read every strike and cut their throats in return. Against living creatures, she reigned supreme.
Overhead, Ethelena fired precise shots from her Lonisera. Once, she’d missed even from ambush range—but now her accuracy was terrifying.
Any Slayer who turned toward her became Tatia’s prey moments later. Their coordination was flawless.
The blacksmith fought from the ground, using Creation Magic to manipulate the battlefield. He drew Slayers toward traps, taking them down one at a time. When one used Shirahadashi to evade, he conjured a wall right where their blade would catch.
The weapon bit into stone instead of him, giving him time to retreat and reset. It was slow work, but every minute he bought gave Ethelena space to clear the field. This was a delaying fight—by design.
Still, his abilities were a bottleneck. Aside from HP, Mana, and Skill Power, his stats only rose by one point each time. The Black Iron Armor boosted physical attack a little, but not enough.
Even upgrading his warhammer wouldn’t change much. Maybe it’s time I learned ambush too, he thought. Once I finish Crafting, Appraisal, and Hammer Mastery, I’ll take it.
A Slayer’s head exploded in front of him.
He looked up—Ethelena had shot it clean through. He nodded slightly in thanks.
”Only Torakuma can match a Slayer head-on,” he muttered. “Still a real pain.”
”They’re worse in packs,” Ethelena replied. “And that Shirahadashi trick is annoying.”
”I could kill them if they stayed still,” Tatia said. “Honestly, Charm would be faster.”
Her tone was half-joking, half-serious.
With her perfected Sex Sorcery, Ethelena could indeed charm weaker monsters. She just chose not to—Tatia needed the combat practice to raise her Sword Aptitude and Knight Swordsmanship.
Torakuma laughed softly.
”That Appraisal of yours, Tatara Style, is absurd. Those pig-faced things swing their blades, and you lop their heads off before they even move.”
Even Torakuma had started using Appraisal to hone her reaction time. Her attacks landed as if she were cutting grass—each one a critical hit that ignored defense entirely.
If a squad of rogue knights ever went berserk, Torakuma alone could probably wipe them out. That was how overwhelming she was against living foes.
”I should reinforce my armor with Tatia’s latest techniques,” he said. “It’s starting to feel underpowered.”
”No,” Ethelena answered, “your armor’s still strong.”
”Maybe, but the three of you are leaving me behind.”
He wasn’t wrong. His Mana pool lagged far behind the others, and even though he shared energy with Ethelena, Creation Magic still drained him quickly.
He needed a better power source. Raising the spell output inside his armor wasn’t an option; Tatia’s Mana capacity far outclassed his.
But he already had an idea. If he removed the antigravity formula from the Levitation Stone and compressed the Mana instead, he could raise its efficiency.
Adding two large Mana Stones as cores might complete it. A self-sustaining system—his way to outpace conventional Arcane Armor.
That meant gathering materials. He needed Mana Stones for the house’s defenses, for Torakuma’s weapon, and for his own research.
Priority went to Torakuma’s weapon, then the home barrier, and finally his power source. If drops were good, Mithril could replace Demonsteel for the defenses. The fact that Mithril counted as a “replacement” still felt absurd.
They finally broke through the overflowing Slayers and descended to the fifteenth floor. Tatia beamed, proud to announce she’d reached level sixteen.
Ogres awaited below—specifically the Grapple type.
They’d dodge relentlessly, making this floor a grappling match in every sense. Setting traps would make it easier, but he wanted Tatia to gain experience through open combat.
Ethelena scouted ahead and spotted their first target: a lone Grapple standing motionless in the center of the corridor. Tatia shot into the air and dove straight down, sword drawn. The Ogre twitched, trying to evade—but Ethelena cast Charm, freezing it mid-motion.
Tatia’s charge slammed through, severing its neck in a clean strike. Before the corpse hit the ground, she had already pulled up, wings beating hard. The Ogre’s arm crashed through where she’d been standing seconds earlier.
She had learned from past close calls. That punch would never catch her again.
The Grapple disintegrated into ash, leaving behind a Mana Stone. Watching it vanish, he couldn’t help but marvel at Tatia’s power.
Aerial mobility combined with her movement buffs turned every charge into a lethal strike. Maybe I should tune her aura to boost speed further, he thought.
”This works pretty well, doesn’t it?” Tatia said, catching her breath.
”Yes,” Torakuma replied. “Against a still target, you’ll always take the neck.”
But not every enemy stood still. The same problem applied to agile monsters—and to rogue knights.
Both the Orc Slayers and these Ogres could dodge, and that wouldn’t change. She needs a speed boost, he decided. Maybe after ambush, she should learn Agility Boost too. He planned to bring it up once they moved on to the next area.
And with that thought, the party advanced deeper into the labyrinth.
As expected, every monster on this floor turned out to be a Grapple.
Ethelena’s Charm and Tatia’s aerial charges handled most of them. Occasionally, Torakuma stepped in, reading their movements with Appraisal and decapitating them in an instant.
We’re cutting through rare monsters on this floor without even breaking a sweat, the blacksmith thought. That’s insane.
Tatia’s growth was equally impressive. Fighting monsters close to her own level kept her progression steady—one level gained per floor.
At this pace, she’d soon have enough points for Ambush, Mana Boost, and Agility Boost. A balanced trio for both mobility and precision.
When they reached the stair chamber, he called out, “Tatia, got a moment?”
She tilted her head. “What is it?”
”I’ve been thinking about your skill build. You’ve been chaining fights with rare types, and I noticed your hit rate drops slightly when you use Charge. After Ambush, I think you should take Agility Boost next.”
Tatia folded her wings. “To move faster, then?
That makes sense. Without Ethelena’s cover, I miss more often.”
”Exactly. It’ll matter even more in duels. If you can move faster than the enemy can react, you’ll win before they notice.”
”Then I’ll prioritize Ambush, followed by Agility Boost, and finally Magic Attack Increase,” she said without hesitation.
”Perfect. Thanks for understanding.”
She smiled faintly.
”You’re thinking about my growth, Tatara-dono. I’ll listen gladly.”
Her warmth eased the tension he hadn’t realized he carried. With her leveling speed, she’d unlock all three skills soon.
They returned to exploration, cutting through Grapples without pause. Tatia’s Charge II and Hawk Eye II reached max level before long, and she learned Ambush and Agility Boost.
From then on, her accuracy jumped dramatically. Even she looked stunned by how sharp her attacks felt.
Ethelena barely needed to back her up anymore. The others—Torakuma included—could only smile wryly at her dominance.
Eventually, they reached the twentieth floor—the boss chamber. A High Ogre awaited them beyond the massive iron door.
”If we want a clean fight,” the blacksmith said, “Torakuma should take point with Appraisal.”
Torakuma nodded but smirked. “If we’re training Tatia, it should be her battle.”
He agreed.
Ambush improved fastest with frequent use. And right now, with no item cost for Skill Power recovery, this was the perfect time to grind experience efficiently.
Tatia turned to him. “Tatara-dono, how does Ambush rank-up affect its power?”
”Each rank lowers the energy cost. Accuracy improves per level.”
”Then I’ll keep using it until my Skill Power runs out.”
”Good plan. Once you’re drained, Torakuma will finish the fight.”
”Understood,” said Torakuma.
The decision made, they pushed the door open. Inside, a High Ogre stood waiting—massive, arms crossed, a war axe resting on its shoulder.
Ethelena moved first. “Charm!“
The spell struck clean. The ogre froze mid-breath, its body slackening.
Tatia took advantage, diving at full speed, her estoc glowing as she activated Ambush.
The blade punched through the ogre’s chest, illusionary strikes flaring behind her. Half her magic power was poured into that thrust, shredding the monster’s torso.
Didn’t even need the charm, the blacksmith thought.
The spell broke. The ogre roared and swung its axe toward her—but Tatia was already airborne.
She dove again, driving her estoc into its face. Flesh tore, but the strike lacked killing power without Charge.
That durability… he thought. Torakuma could cut through it like paper, but Tatia’s training matters more right now.
If she ever struggled with raw damage, he’d help her find a solution. For now, learning to control her precision mattered more.
Moments later, Tatia leapt back, panting. Her Skill Power was spent.
”Torakuma!” he shouted.
”Aye!”
She launched forward instantly.
The High Ogre turned from Tatia, bellowing at the new threat. It recognized the true danger.
Torakuma met its roar with calm fury. She closed the distance, eyes glowing with Appraisal.
The ogre’s massive axe swung down—but she’d already read the trajectory. She sidestepped, her katana flashing.
One stroke.
A clean vertical cut split the ogre from head to groin.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Torakuma exhaled softly and sheathed her blade.
Even knowing her skill ignored defense and guaranteed criticals, watching her cleave a High Ogre in half was terrifying. That wasn’t a mere critical hit—it was limb destruction.
The ogre’s upper body twitched, dragging itself forward despite being bisected. Torakuma unsheathed again in one smooth motion, delivering a finishing slash that severed its head.
Without Appraisal, he couldn’t tell how much damage Tatia had done—but the fight had clearly ended with Torakuma’s two strikes.
She’s a monster herself, he thought.
”Now for the boss chest,” he said. “Tatia or Torakuma should open it.”
Tatia shook her head.
”Then I nominate you, Tatara-dono. You gave me time to train.”
Torakuma laughed.
”If you say so, then I’ll open it. Open sesame!”
She lifted the lid. Inside gleamed a massive Mana Stone—twice the usual size.
”Another big one,” he said, whistling. “That’ll sell for a fortune.”
Torakuma went quiet. Then, without a word, she handed the stone to him.
He blinked. “Wait, why give this to me?”
Torakuma smiled and handed him the massive Mana Stone.
”You’ll need this for your research, won’t you? You used quite a few to build that Levitation system, so I figured you’d need another.”
He blinked. “Well, yeah—it helps a lot, actually.”
Truth be told, he needed five of these stones to complete his current design.
This one would save him days of hunting. Still, he felt like he was taking advantage of her generosity.
Torakuma smirked. “Think of it as earning points with you.”
”Points?”
”If I save enough,” she said, lips curling into a mischievous grin, “maybe one day you’ll let me share a bed with you and Ethelena at the same time.”
He sighed. “Abandon that dream.”
Her teasing drew a sharp look from him, but she only laughed harder. Ethelena blinked between them, clearly lost on why the air suddenly turned awkward.
Torakuma waved it off. “Relax.
Whatever you build from that stone will help all of us in the end. Consider it an investment.”
He exhaled in defeat.
”Fine, I’ll take it. Thanks.”
There was no winning an argument with her—and he knew it.
”So,” he asked, changing the subject, “how’s Tatia’s skill progression?”
”Ambush I is already halfway to rank up,” Torakuma reported. “She’s making fast progress.”
”Too fast,” he muttered.
Not as fast as Ethelena’s Sex Sorcery, but close. At this rate, Tatia might reach Rank II by the end of the day.
The group pressed onward, and before long, the monsters shifted from Grapples to Trolls. With a bit of luck, Muumin would start spawning too.
Their drops—stat-boosting items—could be used to shore up weaknesses or enhance specializations. If enough appeared, he planned to use them to strengthen Tatia’s offensive stats.
Luck was on their side. Roughly sixty percent of the monsters they met were Muumin.
Unfortunately, their affectionate behavior—clinging to Ethelena every time she used Steal—tested her patience. Her glare could have melted steel. She even tried dropping one into a pit trap to grind it to dust, but it somehow escaped every time.
At the stairway to the twenty-fifth floor, the party stopped to assess their inventory.
Their collected stat-boost items included:
HP +1, Mana +1, Skill Power +1, Physical Attack +3, Physical Defense +4, Magic Attack +5, Magic Defense +5, Speed +6, Luck +10, and Movement +10.
”Why is everything skewed toward Luck and Movement?” he muttered. “They’re the rarest drops, but somehow they’re winning the lottery.”
He gathered everyone. “All right, time to use these.”
Ethelena pointed at the pile. “Wait, those are what I stole from those little fairies, right?”
”Yeah,” he said. “Each one permanently boosts a stat by one point. They can’t break racial limits, but they’re still incredibly valuable.”
Torakuma folded her arms.
”So that’s what you were having her steal in bulk. Unbelievable.”
”Rare drops only, but yes,” he admitted.
Tatia chuckled. “Illegal, but effective.”
He explained each item’s effect, and they held a brief council to decide who’d get what. The debate came down to whether they’d reinforce strengths or balance weaknesses.
He argued for the latter. They couldn’t always enter dungeons as a full team—covering gaps mattered more than stacking power.
He suggested Torakuma take the Magic Defense items. She agreed immediately, and Ethelena and Tatia both nodded in support.
Next, Tatia proposed giving Ethelena both Physical Defense and Speed boosts. Ethelena often acted as scout and needed agility and protection for emergencies.
He agreed. Torakuma suggested Tatia take some, but Tatia declined—her armor already provided enough defense. All Speed and Physical Defense bonuses went to Ethelena.
The Physical Attack boosts went to Tatia, unanimously. Torakuma insisted she didn’t need more herself, and the others agreed.
He then proposed giving the Luck boosts to Ethelena as well.
The higher her Steal success rate, the better for everyone. Tatia and Torakuma nodded without question.
When they reached Movement boosts, the discussion split. So many possibilities—Tatia could hit harder with Charge, Torakuma could close gaps faster, or Ethelena could recon farther and escape danger more easily.
That was when Ethelena frowned. “Wait—you haven’t kept anything for yourself, Tatara.”
He shrugged.
”It’s better to strengthen the three of you. The return’s higher.”
She pouted. “That’s not fair.”
Before she could redistribute everything to him, he compromised.
”Fine. Let’s split the Movement bonuses—three for me, three for Torakuma, two each for you and Tatia.”
They agreed.
HP, Mana, and Skill Power went to Tatia, who burned through all three constantly. That ended the distribution—small but meaningful boosts across the team.
After descending to the twenty-sixth floor, the work shifted back to him.
His task: carve sigils into Golems‘ foreheads, disabling them one by one. Using the tactics he’d honed alongside Tatia, he knocked the constructs off balance before scoring deep cuts.
Material didn’t matter anymore. Under Appraisal, even rock and steel were just variations of clay.
But as he fought, something changed. The monsters stopped appearing as simple Rock or Iron Golems. They emerged as Mithril Golems instead, one after another.
He worked in silence until a voice echoed inside his mind—
Complete!
He froze, checked his status, and saw it: Crafting and Appraisal now bore the word “Complete!” beside them, glowing faintly.
Unable to help himself, he pumped a fist in triumph.
Ethelena drifted over. “What happened, Tatara?”
”Just maxed both Crafting and Appraisal,” he said, grinning.
Her eyes widened. “Really?
That’s amazing! Congratulations!”
She clapped lightly, smiling, and his heart softened. My wife is adorable, he thought absently.
Torakuma and Tatia noticed soon after. “What’s the celebration about?” Torakuma asked.
”Something happen?” Tatia added.
When he told them, they cheered as if it were their own victory.
No monsters lurked nearby, so he took the chance to set new skills. He chose Physical Attack Increase and Agility Boost—a practical fix for his lack of striking power.
Besides, both skills resonated with his craft. The rhythm of hammering metal and shaping magic would only grow sharper from here.
If he forged one sword every day for a year, maybe he could complete those next too. For now, he planned to take Ambush once he reached level thirty. Combat skills weren’t really his style, but it wouldn’t hurt to be ready.
Refocused and ready, he resumed hunting Golems.
Every single one still dropped Mithril. After a while, he stopped wishing for iron and decided the house’s fortifications would be built entirely from mithril gates and fences.
He still needed about eighty kilograms of iron ingots, but at this point, he’d settle for what he had—forty kilograms of mithril and twenty of iron.
If nothing else, the surplus mithril could be compressed into a kinetic weapon for Torakuma. That idea made him grin.
By the time they reached the door to the thirtieth floor’s boss chamber, his haul remained the same—forty kilos of mithril, twenty of iron. The ratio was absurd.
Still, if the mithril went into home defense, he could use the earlier stockpile to upgrade Ethelena’s and Torakuma’s equipment. Not a bad trade-off in the end.
”I was planning to make your new weapon,” he said to Torakuma, “but we’re short on iron.”
She tilted her head. “How short?”
”About three times what we got this run.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what exactly are you trying to build?”
He grinned. “A supermass weapon.”
Torakuma sighed heavily.
Yet beneath her exasperation, the corners of her mouth softened. She knew he only made such weapons for the people he trusted most.
”Oh, that reminds me,” he said. “I want to test something. Mind if I take the front this time?”
He’d been saving one particular weapon for this moment—against the boss, the Orichalcum Golem.
”I’m fine with that,” said Ethelena, without hesitation.
Tatia frowned. “Can I at least stay as your shield?”
Torakuma raised a brow. “Another one of your ridiculous inventions, hm?”
Ridiculous? he thought. It’s romantic.
”Tatia,” he said gently, “don’t worry. I can handle Golems.”
She still looked uneasy but nodded.
”All right. I’ll trust you.”
He could tell she wasn’t convinced.
Even she didn’t seem to understand why she felt that way. He smiled anyway.
”Next time something dangerous happens,” he said, “I’ll count on you.”
”…Deal.”
Before stepping through the door, he reached into his inventory and pulled out his newest creation—a weapon without any formal classification, a hybrid between magic and engineering.
Made from high-density Demonsteel, it featured a long rail, a firing grip, a trigger, and a Mana Stone socket to power its spell array.
Length: 220 centimeters.
Weight: 120 kilograms.
He called it the Auto Eizul—a close-combat, magic-accelerated pile driver. A monument to his love for absurd engineering.
Torakuma stared. “…What in the world is that nail monstrosity?”
”As you can see, it’s a pile driver,” he said. “Designed to destroy extremely hard targets. Last time Ethelena used Elingium, it almost blew the whole chamber apart, so I made a safer alternative.”
Tatia’s voice shook. “If I ever turn against you, would you point that thing at me?”
He chuckled. “Only if you plan to become a Golem.”
With that, he faced the door.
”All right. I’m going in.”
He burst into the chamber. The Orichalcum Golem waited at the center, motionless, massive.
He dashed forward, using his boosted stats to close the distance in a single breath. Appraisal activated, revealing the weak point: the core embedded deep in its abdomen.
He channeled Mana, activating the weapon’s spell formula.
Three magic circles formed along the rail—less than Elingium, but far more focused. He thrust the steel spike against the Golem’s torso and pulled the trigger.
> Accuracy check: 10 + 23 − 25 = 33 — Hit.
> Attack power: 500 − 100, critical confirmed ×2 = 999.
The chamber exploded with sound. The recoil numbed his arms as the weapon slammed forward.
The Golem’s midsection shattered; its torso launched upward, spinning overhead. He barely dodged as the massive upper half crashed behind him. A second later, both halves hit the ground with twin thunderclaps and lay still.
Particles of light rose from the wreckage—the Orichalcum Golem was dead.
A triumphant fanfare rang in his mind. His level jumped to thirty.
Only a treasure chest remained in the middle of the room.
He grinned. “Needs a few tweaks, but damn, that was beautiful.”
Torakuma stormed in, shouting. “What in blazes did you just fire!?”
Tatia’s face had gone pale. “If you used that on a person, they’d turn to paste…”
Ethelena said nothing.
She simply floated closer and hugged him lightly, brushing her hand over his head. He blinked, unsure whether she was proud or terrified.
”It uses a medium Mana Stone for one massive shot,” he explained. “Can’t fire twice without reloading. But if it hits the right spot, it’s devastating.”
Torakuma crossed her arms. “Considering your Appraisal, that thing could one-shot any Golem alive.”
”Exactly,” he said, nodding. And he was right—the Auto Eizul had obliterated the toughest construct they’d faced.
”Let’s grab the chest and head back for today,” he said.
As he reached for it, Tatia raised a hand.
”Wait. We’re not continuing to the next floor?”
He’d expected that question.
”Honestly? It’s risky.”
”What kind of enemies?” she asked.
”Undead types—Wights, Ghosts, that kind.”
Torakuma frowned. “Without someone who can bless weapons, that’s a problem.”
He nodded.
In the old game days, undead enemies were immune to physical attacks and weak to holy and fire. Ethelena could sweep them easily with Lonisera—normally.
But these weren’t normal times.
From floors thirty-one to thirty-four, the rare spawn was the Lich—a mage who had traded mortality for endless magic. High resistance, massive firepower.
Even Ethelena would struggle without new spells. She’d need Magic Attack Increase and at least one fire-type spell to stand a chance.
Testing his homemade flamethrower powered by liquefied Mana Stones wasn’t something he wanted to risk mid-battle. Until the party grew stronger, pushing further wasn’t worth it.
They talked while he opened the boss chest. Inside sat another enormous Mana Stone.
He laughed under his breath.
”All right, I get it. A divine sign to keep researching.”
”For now, let’s head back,” he said. “I’ll figure out a way to deal with what’s ahead.”
Torakuma nodded.
”If you’re saying that, then we should take it seriously. This is no time to rush.”
”I agree,” Tatia added. “Even for us, a Lich would be too much.”
With everyone in agreement, he pulled a return crystal from his inventory. As always, Ethelena clasped his hand, her fingers intertwining with his.
Torakuma covered both their hands with her own, while Tatia placed hers over his arm to complete the link. Once he confirmed full contact, he activated the crystal.
And just like that, their first dungeon run of the preparation period came to an end.
* * *
Back on the surface, they headed to the same tavern as before for a small celebration.
The food order was modest this time—add more only if needed. Between bites, they talked plans for tomorrow.
Tatia wanted to dive back into the dungeon at dawn. He, on the other hand, planned to use the mithril they’d gathered to reinforce the house’s defenses.
Ethelena and Torakuma intended to accompany Tatia for another run, so he asked them to bring back any iron ingots and Mana Stones they could find. Torakuma just laughed and admitted she wasn’t confident about finding iron.
Before they parted, Tatia handed over her full equipment set for maintenance. He wanted to log how much wear and aura loss occurred in live combat.
Standard Arcane Armor could self-repair, but Tatia’s simplified version didn’t have that luxury. He also took her underlayer for a full recalibration and told her to come by in the morning to pick everything up.
The walk home was quiet but warm. Ethelena held his hand as usual, and—for reasons he didn’t understand—Torakuma brushed her pinky against his.
When he turned to comment, she gave him a wistful look that froze the words in his throat. The silence that followed felt heavier than it should have.
* * *
Once home, he sent both women to bathe.
Ethelena tried to insist he join, and Torakuma seconded her under the guise of “saving water.” He refused on the spot.
He knew if he joined, something irreversible would happen. No.
Better to focus on crafting. Work cleared his mind.
He turned to the workshop.
* * *
First, he used Alchemy to fuse Mana Stones.
Starting with 750 small ones, he synthesized three extra-large Mana Stones. That pushed Alchemy IV to its maximum level, so he ranked it up immediately—no point wasting potential experience.
He placed all five of his extra-large Mana Stones, including the dungeon ones, on the precision workbench. It was time to begin a new experiment.
The process mirrored the Levitation Stone project—except this time, he omitted the antigravity spell formula. The goal was pure compression and fusion. He needed to condense the Mana from all five stones until they matched the size of a single levitation core.
It sounded simpler. It wasn’t.
The density of compressed Mana made it dangerously unstable. A tiny mistake could trigger an explosion big enough to level the house. Only the precision tools of his bench made the process even remotely viable.
When he finally held the finished product, a chime rang in his head.
Complete!
His Alchemy skill had reached perfection.
He opened his status window, saw the shining “complete!” mark beside Alchemy, and felt cold sweat on his back.
The thing in his hand—he already had a terrible suspicion.
He used Appraisal.
No name.
No data. Just silence.
He sighed. “So it really is that.”
* * *
”Tatara, the bath’s free—wait, what’s wrong?”
Torakuma appeared at the doorway.
He must have looked shaken, because she stopped mid-step. Then her eyes flicked to the object in his hand, and she instinctively backed away.
”Just need to… file a report to the City Mayor,” he said flatly.
”That thing in your hand is the reason, isn’t it?”
”Don’t call it ‘that thing.’ It won’t explode… though every alchemist in the city will probably lose their minds over it.”
”So it is dangerous.”
He tossed it lightly toward her.
She caught it—barely—and cast Appraisal. Her shoulders slumped. “It won’t even give me information.”
* * *
”So,” she said quietly, handing it back, “what exactly is this?”
He stared at the object for a long moment before answering.
”Let’s call it… the Alchemist’s Egg.“
The moment he spoke the name, something in the air changed—like the world itself acknowledged it.
He cast Appraisal again. This time, information appeared.
Accessory – Alchemist’s Egg
HP +100
Mana +100
Skill Power +100
Special Abilities: HP Recovery V, Mana Recovery V, Skill Power Recovery V
He blinked.
”Yeah… this is insane.”
He’d only wanted a new power core for his armor.
Instead, he’d created something that rewrote the laws of alchemy. Aside from being tedious to produce, it had no flaws.
When he handed it to Torakuma again, her face went stiff.
”Tatara,” she said slowly, “what is this thing?”
He smiled faintly.
”The dream of every alchemist. The pinnacle of the craft.”
Her eyes widened. She understood.
The Philosopher’s Stone.
He’d just made one.
Torakuma exhaled shakily and handed it back. “I…
can’t hold that.” She took a step away, keeping her eyes on it as if it might burn her. The distance stung more than he expected.
He sighed.
”The bath’s open, right? I’ll go next.”
”I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but… that thing terrifies me.”
He started toward the bath, shoulders low.
”Yeah, I know. Still hurts, though.”
”Wait,” she said quickly.
He turned.
”If you really mean that apology,” she said, gathering courage, “then could you… call me by my name?”
He blinked. “Your name?”
”My given name. Yohira. I keep hearing you say ‘Torakuma,’ and it feels like there’s still a wall between us. It’s time to change that, isn’t it?”
He paused, caught between guilt and warmth.
”…Sure. I don’t mind.”
He couldn’t refuse that—his conscience wouldn’t let him.
Notes:
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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