Chapter 47 The Blacksmith Prepares
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
The morning after, I drag my sluggish mind out of bed, throw on some clothes, and head to the kitchen. Ethelena’s already started breakfast, and for a moment, I panic, thinking I overslept.
”Good morning, Tatara,” she says warmly.
”Morning, Ethelena. Sorry, am I late?” I ask.
”No, you’re right on time,” she replies with a smile. “Check the clock.”
Sure enough, the short hand’s in its usual spot, and the long hand hasn’t hit the top yet. Ethelena was just early. I consider a wake-up kiss, but she’s busy cooking, so I hold off.
Instead, I whip up a quick salad and toast some bread. Once breakfast prep is done, I pull Ethelena close for a kiss. Her arms wrap around my neck, and we hold each other tightly.
Yohira’s confession still lingers in my mind, I think, like this kiss is some shameful attempt to bury my guilt. But I can’t help it—I cling to Ethelena’s warmth, hating how weak it makes me feel.
”Tatara, something bothering you?” Ethelena asks, noticing my mood.
I pull her closer, our bodies pressed together.
”Yeah, something heavy’s been weighing on me. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop.”
I don’t go into details, but I admit I’m struggling. Hiding it feels wrong.
”Okay,” she says softly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
”Thanks. I’ll take you up on that,” I reply.
We share one more kiss before I head to the courtyard. I need to adjust the equipment I finished for Yohira last night.
She’s out there, swinging her katana [T/N: Japanese sword] with precision, as if last night’s confession never happened. Her sword dance is flawless, graceful. When she finishes, she turns to me, her eyes a mix of joy and sorrow.
”Good morning, Tatara,” Yohira says, her tone playful yet refined.
”Morning, Yohira,” I reply, hoping my smile looks normal. Am I making her hurt with my expression? I wonder.
”Got business with me?” she teases. “Or just craving my company?”
”Business,” I say. “Your armor’s ready. Needs some adjustments.”
”Such impossible speed,” she sighs, half-amused, half-exasperated.
”C’mon, try it on,” I urge.
”What, strip naked right here?” she quips, smirking. “Quite the bold taste.”
”There’s folks out there fantasizing about worse—like collars and public strolls,” I shoot back. “But tastes vary, right?”
”Even I haven’t sunk that low,” Yohira says, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a bit too twisted, no?”
”Yeah, well, the same guy rambled about soul-bonding and rebirth through mana,” I say. “Kinda out there.”
”Beyond my comprehension,” she mutters, shaking her head.
I chuckle. If Yohira thought that was a good idea, I’d be in trouble.
She slips off her casual clothes and tries on the armguard, checking the inner sleeve—similar to an archer’s bracer—for comfort. I make sure the sleeve doesn’t hinder her movement, adjusting it slightly at her request.
Warrior and blacksmith vibes dominate; gender barely registers. Next, she puts on the breastplate over her clothes. The chest area fits perfectly, designed with enough room to handle growth, even if her size jumped a couple of cups.
”The chest area’s awfully spacious,” Yohira remarks, eyeing it.
”It’s to absorb impact and account for growth,” I explain. “Unless you hit Ethelena’s size, you’re fine.”
”That size would make swinging a sword impossible,” she grumbles.
”Yeah, Ethelena’s proportions look like a hassle,” I say, thinking of how she seems to embrace her figure. Guess it suits my tastes, but women seem to find it inconvenient.
Yohira swaps her pants for the armor’s pleated skirt, cut to mid-calf to avoid tripping. I show her how to adjust the waistband, and she fiddles with it, tightening it by about five centimeters to prevent slipping.
She reuses her belt, cinching it snugly. Finally, she straps on the shin guards over thick leather boots, securing them tightly for mobility.
Fully equipped, Yohira looks like a noble lady, metal armor aside. She’s got that refined air, probably from her highborn roots, I think.
”Staring, Tatara? Smitten?” she teases, catching my gaze.
”You pull it off,” I admit. “That noble grace suits you.”
”Don’t say things like that so casually,” she scolds, blushing slightly. “It’s why people fall for you. Have some self-awareness.”
Self-awareness? How do I control what comes naturally? I hand her the iron fan. She takes it, surprised, then snaps it open with a satisfying crack.
Her movements are fluid, precise—no wasted effort, no sound from her steps despite the unfamiliar boots. Her dance is perfect, every motion deliberate yet effortless. When she finishes with a bow, the moment lingers.
”That was stunning,” I say, genuinely impressed. “I’m at a loss for words.”
”My mother dances far better,” Yohira replies modestly. “I’ve got a long way to go.”
”Maybe, but I’ve only seen you, Yohira [T/N: Female]. Your dance stole my breath.”
”Stop with those lines,” she sighs, exasperated but flustered.
”C’mon, take a compliment,” I say, grinning.
”With this, I can officially commission your work, right?” she asks.
”Yep, but you’ll need to bring your own materials,” I remind her.
”Understood,” she says, gently stroking the iron fan before stowing it in her inventory.
”Ethelena’s probably done cooking,” I say. “Go wash up.”
”Bath time?” she asks.
”Only if you want to re-equip all that armor from scratch.”
”…I’ll stick to washing my hands,” she decides.
Light armor or not, gearing up is a hassle. We gather for breakfast: scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, salad, and onion soup. The eggs are creamy, with a salty-buttery kick.
The bacon’s smoky richness pairs perfectly with the eggs’ flavor. The soup, cooked with turnips and leafy greens, balances sweetness and crunch from croutons. Ethelena’s family recipe is too good—I’m hooked.
As we eat, Ethelena watches me with a warm, almost maternal gaze, like my happiness is everything to her.
It’s a bit embarrassing. Yohira, meanwhile, hides a mix of excitement and heartache, pretending not to notice us.
”Alright,” I say, finishing up. “I’m spending the day boosting the house’s defenses. You two, be careful exploring the dungeon.”
I hand Ethelena a return crystal. She’s the best choice to lead, given our history.
Yohira can keep her in check, acting as a calm second-in-command. I pass Tatia’s equipment to Yohira for safekeeping.
Honestly, part of me thinks Yohira, who stays back, might be a better choice to lead than Ethelena, the scout. But I keep forgetting—she’s got a knack for getting lost, I remind myself.
”Alright, we’re off!” Ethelena calls out, waving.
”Ethelena will keep things tight, so don’t worry,” Yohira adds with her usual refined tone.
I wave back as they head out, then step into the workshop. From my inventory, I pull out 40 kilograms of Mithril silver [T/N: Mythical metal] and some Orc Material. The plan to boost the house’s defenses involves setting Mithril pillars at even intervals around the moat, channeling Mana to strengthen a magical barrier.
Mithril’s tough enough to ensure durability, but it’s so rare that leaving it exposed might tempt thieves. So, I’ll use Orc Material to make wall panels, hiding the pillars’ true nature. A coat of rust-proof paint could help disguise them too, I think.
Each pillar needs five ingots, formed into a four-meter hollow double structure—one meter buried, three above ground. Forging dozens of meters at once isn’t practical in this workshop, so I craft them one by one.
Including spares, I make 60 pillars, using 30 kilograms of Mithril. This much could buy a fortress with top-notch security, I muse, but I’m not giving up this house.
Next, I engrave each pillar with a Spell Formula to build the barrier. It’s tedious work—without these, the Mana from the Spiritual Vein won’t form a proper barrier, leaving me with just a sturdy fence.
Then, I process the Orc Material into panels, each five centimeters wide and just over a meter long. We’ve got over 100 panels from past explorations with Ethelena and the group, so I don’t hold back. Covering the pillars with these is easier than riveting Mithril, and if someone breaks the panels, seeing the Mithril underneath might crush their spirit.
For preservation, I mix a bit of liquefied Mana Stone into water-based sealant and coat the panels. Once absorbed, the Mana Stone adds magic resistance. If it’s not fully dry, though, it’ll burn like crazy, I note. After three hours, the pillars and panels are ready.
I’ll replace the fence first, then tackle the gate. Just as I set the materials in the courtyard, the doorbell chimes. No visitors were scheduled today. Who could it be?
”Coming!” I call out, heading to the door.
A familiar sight greets me.
”Morning, Tatara,” says the City Mayor. “Can we talk?”
”Morning, Mayor,” I reply, scratching my head. “Honestly, I’ve got work to do. Could you come back later?”
Her forehead vein bulges as she holds a copy of my report.
Standing with her are the usual suspects: the gruff guy in black armor with a greatsword, Dalma-san with the axe I made, and two party members I haven’t seen in a while. Olive-san, a petite blonde elf with green eyes who looks like a kid, and Narki-san, a tall, smug-looking elf with narrow eyes.
”Kid, why do you keep causing trouble?” the greatsword guy groans.
”Seriously, isn’t it a bit much?” Dalma-san adds, exasperated.
”Long time no see, kid!” Olive-san chirps. “I got dragged into this!”
”Tch, making me deal with this, young master?” Narki-san drawls.
Full party. Were they headed for an exploration when she nabbed them? I wonder.
”If your work needs extra hands, use these four,” the Mayor says. “Now, let’s talk.”
”No veto, huh? Fine,” I sigh. “But I’m borrowing Dalma-san for some heavy lifting.”
”Me?” Dalma-san blinks.
”Yeah, I need muscle,” I say.
”Guess I’m your guy!” he grins.
With Dalma-san’s strength, setting the pillars and panels will be easier.
I lead the five to the living room and brew tea. Once everyone’s settled, the Mayor cuts to the chase.
”So, this ‘Alchemist’s Egg’—what is it?” she asks, eyeing me.
”You really want to know about that mess?” I reply cautiously.
”I need to know, or my stomach’ll keep churning,” she says. “Though hearing it might drive me crazy.”
”Hell either way, huh? Funny,” I quip.
”Want your face stuck like that?” she snaps.
”Sorry,” I mutter.
Olive-san, bursting with curiosity, can’t hold back. “Kid, you made something?
Dalma’s axe was amazing, so this must be wild! Show me!”
She talks so fast I barely keep up. I pull the Alchemist’s Egg from my inventory and set it on the table. Olive-san snatches it before the Mayor can, holding it close. “What’s this?
It’s like a gem, not an egg! So sparkly! That shimmer inside—it’s dense Mana! You made this, kid?”
She studies it with wide eyes, clearly clueless about its true nature.
The Mayor grabs it, using her Appraisal skill. Her face twists as she reads the stats.
”Tatara,” she says, deadly serious. “What did you make?”
The air grows heavy. Olive-san’s excitement fades, and the others watch silently.
”It’s… the Alchemist’s dream, right?” I say carefully.
”You’re gonna get yourself beaten one day,” she mutters, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.
Yeah, that’s about the reaction I expected, I think. “By the way, it’s based on the same principle as a Soul Core.
Alchemists were chasing something rare but real. Dark joke, huh?”
”You’ll end up dead by some Alchemy Institute goon,” she groans, sighing heavier.
Olive-san, unfazed, snatches the Egg back, eyes sparkling.
”This is the Philosopher’s Stone, right? First time I’ve seen one!”
”It’s practically a fairy tale,” I say.
”When I made it, Appraisal didn’t recognize it,” I add. “Never existed before.”
”You achieved their dream and act this casual?” the Mayor mutters, looking older by the second.
”Oh, hey, big guy,” I say, turning to the greatsword guy.
”Now? Really?” he grumbles, wary.
”Sorry, but this is serious,” I say. “You can make one Egg with five large Mana Stones.”
”That’s… not exactly simple,” he says.
”So, want enough for your whole party?” I ask.
”You think we can use these?” he scoffs.
”They’d give you an edge in any exploration,” I say. “Equip it, and you get plus 100 to HP, Mana, and Skill Power.”
”…What?” he says, stunned.
”It comes with Rank V ‘HP Recovery,’ ‘Mana Recovery,’ and ‘Skill Power Recovery’ as special abilities,” I say.
”Seriously?” the greatsword guy asks, eyes wide.
”No doubt about it,” I confirm.
He falls deep into thought. His party’s all high-level, with tons of skills. In deep dungeon explorations, managing resources is key.
If they don’t have to worry about injuries, Mana, or Skill Power depletion, that’s a game-changer, I think. Plus, Olive-san, a top-tier magic user, could cast spells freely with just one of these. That alone makes it worth crafting.
”We don’t have a huge stock of Mana Stones,” he says, frowning. “We’ve only gotten one large one before.”
”You can fuse smaller ones with Alchemy to make them,” I reply.
”Really?” he asks, skeptical.
”I wouldn’t lie about this,” I say.
He hesitates but finally makes up his mind. Pulling a sack from his inventory, he sets it before me.
”This is every Mana Stone our party has. Make as many as you can.”
”Got it,” I say, then turn to the City Mayor. “Uh, about the crafting fee—”
”I’m covering it all,” she interrupts. “Show me every step of the process.”
I just wanted to know the cost, I think, but whatever. Time to get to work. I warn Olive-san not to interrupt or get near the workbench, no matter how curious she gets.
She nods, but I don’t trust her. The greatsword guy and Dalma-san promise to hold her back, so I start.
Their Mana Stones are just enough for four Alchemist’s Eggs. I confirm with them, then use the precision workbench for Alchemy. I fuse the stones, gradually forming several large ones.
Then, with Crafting, I deploy a multi-layered Magic Circle [T/N: Magical array] to compress and combine five large stones into one palm-sized Egg. I use Appraisal, and “Alchemist’s Egg” pops up. I hand it to the City Mayor for verification.
”No way,” she mutters. “You made this with such a small setup?”
It’s small compared to the Royal Institute, but I’d bet my quality’s better, I think smugly.
”Here’s the first one,” I say, offering it to the greatsword guy.
Before he can take it, a blonde blur—Olive-san—snatches it from my hand. “Amazing, amazing, amazing! The way the Mana Stones fused, that three-dimensional Magic Circle—I’ve never seen anything like it!
And this Egg, it’s more dazzling than any gem! Seeing it made just makes it shine brighter! You’re incredible, kid!” she gushes.
”Calm down, Olive,” Dalma-san says, grabbing her.
She’s got a wild vibe. Hope she’s okay, I think.
I keep going, crafting the second and third Eggs. During the fourth, Olive-san breaks free and charges at me, but Narki-san trips her, stopping her cold.
”Finished all you can make,” I say, handing the last one to the greatsword guy.
”Bag’s empty now,” he says with a wry smile, but he looks satisfied. He decides to give the Eggs to the others first, saying his gear’s already top-notch. He asks me to make more if they gather enough Mana Stones, and I agree.
The City Mayor approaches, slamming a heavy sack on the table. “Make one for Calmys,” she says.
”Me?” I ask, surprised.
”If I made it and it’s subpar, that’s no good,” she says. “Calmys might get hurt in a future incident without a proper one.”
Her words hit hard.
In the game’s text, Calmys gets badly injured and suffers lasting damage due to a lack of healing items, I recall. This Egg could prevent that.
”Alright,” I say. “What about yours?”
”I’ll use one I made myself,” she replies. “A true Crafter lives and dies by their own work, not someone else’s.”
That’s exactly what I told Yohira’s parents, I think. Maybe the Mayor and I are cut from the same cloth.
I finish Calmys’s Alchemist’s Egg, and the Mayor leaves with Olive-san and Narki-san as escorts. The greatsword guy and Dalma-san stay, eager to help with my project.
We pull out the old fence posts and drive in the new Mithril ones. Dalma-san’s as strong as expected, but the greatsword guy surprises me with his skill. Apparently, he worked construction jobs back in the day.
After replacing all the posts and marking them, I plan to send them off, but they insist on helping until the end.
The gate’s a double-door design, using 2.5 kilograms of Mithril per side—50 ingots total. I’m not thinking about the cost, I tell myself, ignoring their strained expressions.
Like with Yohira’s armor, I forge the gate, folding the metal 12 times for about 200,000 layers.
I craft 1-kilogram Mithril pillars to support it, replace the old gate posts, and install ball bearings for smooth movement. The gate swings both ways, making it easier for Ethelena, especially if she’s pregnant.
I install a lock I designed, building on one I made for Ethelena’s Unlocking skill practice. It’s advanced, but this world’s Unlocking skill could still crack it.
To break this gate physically, you’d need something like Ethelena’s Elingium or my Auto Eizul, I think. No rookie knight could pull that off.
”Mithril can get that heavy, huh?” Dalma-san says, recalling the gate’s weight.
”It’s 50 ingots’ worth,” I reply. “Not exactly common.”
”How’d you get so much?” he asks.
”Tatia’s skill,” I explain. “On the 25th floor, most enemies turn into Mithril Golems, so we got this much. But barely any iron—last time, it was 40 kilos of Mithril to 20 of iron. Makes no sense.”
”That’s wild,” he says, shaking his head.
Mithril’s a rare metal, but I keep forgetting with these hauls, I think. I brew some cold tea, and we chat.
Dalma-san loves his axe, sharing dungeon stories with a grin. The greatsword guy says he’d have asked for a sword or armor if his weren’t already great. Even if it’s flattery, hearing it from a guy like him feels good.
After tea, they head out for an exploration, despite three hours of crafting and work. Talk about stamina, I think.
I check the barrier in the courtyard, channeling Mana from the Spiritual Vein [T/N: Magical energy source] to activate a dome-shaped shield around the house. The Mana flow’s a bit low, so the barrier’s only at 80% of what I expected.
Optimizing the Spell Formula is beyond me right now, I think. I’d need a specialist to fix it. The only option I’ve got is to build a Mana Reactor using an Alchemist’s Egg to boost the barrier. Might be worth setting one up for the workshop and barrier someday, I muse, but the City Mayor would flip if I did. Maybe if I gave her one, she’d look the other way… No, she’d probably get mad about bribes.
I walk around the house, inspecting the new fence, and return to the courtyard just as a visitor arrives—not at the front door, but right here in the yard.
A woman stands there, her lush blonde hair and curvy figure wrapped in a maid outfit, with gleaming metal wings spread behind her. It’s the Archangel [T/N: Higher being], someone I haven’t seen in a while.
”Long time no see,” I say.
”Hi, Tatara-san! It’s been ages!” she replies, her voice bright and cheerful.
What’s she here for? Weapon maintenance again? I wonder.
”I heard a rumor,” she says, grinning. “You’re getting married to the woman you live with?”
”Yeah, we’re planning the ceremony after I graduate from the academy,” I reply. “Will you come, Archangel?”
”That’s a tempting invite, but I’m not really able to join those kinds of events,” she says, sounding a bit wistful.
Maybe it’s an event sprite issue? I think.
”That’s too bad,” I say, genuinely disappointed. She’s an old friend, and I owe her a lot, even if explaining her to Ethelena and the others would be tricky.
”Can I ask for a favor?” she says hesitantly.
”Sure, what is it?” I ask.
”If… just if, okay? If you have a kid, could I maybe hold them?” she asks, her eyes hopeful.
”That’s all? Of course, that’s fine,” I say.
Her face lights up with a radiant smile. She’s got such a childlike side, I think, amused.
”How’s your weapon holding up?” I ask.
”It’s still slicing enemies perfectly!” she says, her casual tone hiding a chilling edge.
”So, what brings you here today?” I ask. It’s not about weapon maintenance, and I haven’t made anything world-shattering recently—though I’ve been causing trouble left and right. She usually shows up when she senses something big, but she didn’t come during my recent crafting.
”Oh, right!” she says, clapping her hands together in front of her face. “I have something important to tell you, Tatara-san!”
Her voice is so bright it almost throws me off. “Go ahead,” I say.
”Tatara-san, you need to be careful, or you might get kicked out of this world!” she says cheerfully.
That’s not something to say with such a sunny tone, I think, stunned.
—
Tatia Event Ongoing
Note: Torakuma isn’t planned to have chest growth. Biologically, pregnancy and breastfeeding might cause temporary growth, but it’ll revert afterward.
Notes:
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• 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.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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