Chapter 55 The Blacksmith’s Reach
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Tatara stretched out his hand, lifting the unconscious girl into his arms to check her wounds. The most glaring issue was the gaping hole in her chest, yet she was still breathing. Scratches and bruises marred her skin, clear signs of a recent battle.
The Automaton Maiden looked human but wasn’t. Like a saint or hero, she had a core that powered her, alongside functional heart and lungs. That hole in her chest likely came from someone ripping out her Soul Core. If left untreated, she’d weaken and die.
”Ethelena, I’m taking her to the hospital!” Tatara called out.
”Got it! Should I contact the City Mayor?” Ethelena replied.
”Use the emergency signal to call Calmys-san—it’s faster. I’m going now!”
With that, Tatara activated his Black Iron Armor and sprinted forward. The armor boosted his speed by 10 meters per second, giving him a shot at making it in time. The central hospital was about three kilometers away. At full speed, he could reach it in under a minute.
Carrying the Automaton Maiden, Tatara dashed through the increasingly crowded main street. Low-level passersby couldn’t even register his presence, but weaving through the crowd was slowing him down. Frustration crept in—this won’t do—when inspiration struck. He stored Prayer of the Earth Mother in his Inventory and equipped the Floating Stone. With a powerful leap, he floated into the air, kicking forward as if running on the wind. His speed surged another 10 meters per second, and obstacles became irrelevant. This has to be enough, he thought, though a stray worry crossed his mind: If the vigilante corps spots me, they might shoot Torimochi nets. Still, shouting about an injured person should make them hesitate.
Soaring forward, Tatara clutched the girl tightly. Her limp form felt almost like a life-sized doll, lifeless yet heavy with unspoken stories. The hospital came into view, spurring him onward.
”Stop right there!” a voice boomed.
The vigilante corps had anticipated him, lined up with Sticky Launchers at the ready. Great job, guys, but not today.
”She’s injured! Let me through!” Tatara shouted.
”Stop!” they barked again.
Tatara gritted his teeth. You’re lifesavers, but could you slack off just this once?
”I’m pushing through!”
”Fire!” the squad leader commanded.
As the Sticky Launchers fired, Tatara, ever the Crafter, activated Creation Magic: Create Wall. A barrier materialized, blocking the nets. He leaped higher, scaling the wall and vaulting over the corps’ heads.
”I’ll turn myself in later! Hospital first!” he yelled.
”Wait! At least stop flying!” the squad leader called back.
”That’s your issue!?”
Landing as requested, Tatara stored the Floating Stone and ran the final 400 meters. The hospital loomed ahead. Bursting through the entrance, he ignored the receptionist’s glare until she saw the girl in his arms and sprang into action.
”Emergency! Likely an Automaton Maiden—her core’s been removed!” Tatara shouted.
”Got it! Doctors!” the receptionist called, triggering a Magic Device that rang a bell. Multiple physicians rushed in, transferring the girl to a stretcher and wheeling her to the operating room.
Tatara exhaled, only to feel a slap on his back. Turning, he saw a sweat-drenched, panting man—likely the squad leader.
”Huff… huff…” the man gasped.
”Hey, catch your breath first,” Tatara said. “Receptionist, can you get him some water?”
The receptionist poured a paper cup brimful and handed it to the squad leader, who nodded thanks and chugged it down. Kids nearby giggled, saying it looked delicious, while an elderly man with a cane nodded sagely, muttering, “This place’s water is good.”
”Phew, that hit the spot!” the squad leader exclaimed, looking like he belonged in a summer drink commercial.
”Uh, good work out there,” Tatara said.
”Yeah, thanks… wait, no! Why were you flying through the city?!” the squad leader demanded, then lowered his voice at Tatara’s gesture. “Sorry… why were you flying?”
”Small voice, big energy—impressive,” Tatara muttered. “Look, I was rushing an injured person here. The streets were packed, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it in time, so I flew.”
The squad leader scribbled notes for an interrogation record, while the receptionist gaped at the mention of flying. Guess that’s the shocking part.
”So, this injured person?” the squad leader prompted.
”An Automaton Maiden, I think. First time seeing one, but the traits match. She had a fist-sized hole in her chest, but her heart and lungs were working, so I brought her here.”
”Relation?”
”Intruder and homeowner.”
”…What?”
”Intruder and homeowner,” Tatara repeated.
The squad leader froze. Yeah, I get it. Sounds wild.
”My house has a personal teleportation gate,” Tatara explained.
”Why do you have that?”
”Highly political reasons. Anyway, the gate activated on its own, and this Automaton Maiden popped out.”
The squad leader jotted down every word, likely prioritizing information over credibility.
”Her chest wound—was that from the teleportation?”
”No, it was there already. Probably got into a fight before teleporting, and her Soul Core was taken.”
”Hard to believe,” the squad leader muttered.
”Trust me, I’m questioning it myself,” Tatara admitted. From an outsider’s perspective, he was just a guy carrying a wounded girl, flying through the city, and barging into a hospital. Textbook suspicious behavior.
”You’re causing quite the stir in the city, aren’t you?” a familiar voice cut in, laced with authority and exasperation.
Tatara sighed. “A girl popped out of my teleportation gate, and—”
”Trouble follows you like a shadow,” the City Mayor interrupted, her tone equal parts annoyed and resigned. Of course it’s her. The War God Church’s Head Temple was the only registered destination for his gate, so an unauthorized jump was unheard of.
”Excuse me, are you related to this man?” the squad leader asked.
”His guardian, more or less,” the City Mayor replied. “I’ll vouch for his identity.”
”Uh… ngh?!” The squad leader’s eyes widened, finally recognizing her. His strangled yelp was almost comical.
”If you need interrogation records or identification papers, I’ll have them sent later. Acceptable?” she asked.
”Y-Yes, ma’am!” he stammered, clearly intimidated. The City Mayor’s influence was no secret—she’d pushed for better vigilante corps equipment, funding, and outposts.
”And your name?” the squad leader asked Tatara, regaining composure.
”Tatara Julon.”
”Tatara… Julon?!” The squad leader’s jaw dropped. “The one who donated Sticky Launchers and fire cannons to the corps and fire brigade?!”
”Uh, yeah, my inventions,” Tatara said sheepishly.
”No way! I’m a huge fan! Can I shake your hand?!”
”Huh?” Tatara blinked, caught off guard. A fan? Of me? I’m just a Crafter.
”Your inventions have saved my team from injuries!” the Squad Leader exclaimed, his voice brimming with gratitude. “We’ve helped so many people thanks to you! You’re our hero—please, shake my hand!”
The words hit Tatara hard, stirring a mix of pride and unease. Hero? That’s just my selfish need to fix things. Seeing the vigilante corps’ injuries and losses had reminded him of his parents, pushing him to craft tools like the Sticky Launcher for safer captures. The real heroes are you guys, facing danger without fancy gadgets.
”Uh, if someone like me is okay…” Tatara muttered, suppressing his doubts and extending his hand.
The Squad Leader gripped it firmly with both of his, his palms rough and scarred—a testament to countless lives saved. Is my hand, soft from crafting, even worthy of this? Tatara wondered.
”Could I maybe ask you to test a new Sticky Launcher model when it’s ready?” Tatara ventured.
”Absolutely!” the Squad Leader beamed. “Testing cutting-edge gear? I’ll be bragging about that! Oh, uh, sorry.”
”No, no, I’m grateful you’re excited,” Tatara replied, smiling.
He’d been hearing requests for a rapid-fire Sticky Launcher model. Finishing it soon and getting it tested could make the corps’ work even safer. Maybe I should speed up the net launcher too. Could check with Foolish Fox for ninja-tool inspiration. As the Squad Leader walked away, Tatara felt a spark of motivation for his next project.
”You look awfully pleased,” the City Mayor remarked, her tone dry.
”Hearing gratitude from the field for the first time? That’s bound to fire me up,” Tatara shot back.
She sighed, and Tatara couldn’t blame her. She’s probably had to clean up my messes more than once.
”Do what you want, but think about reproducibility,” she warned.
”Take a look at this design. Reproducible enough?” Tatara pulled up a projection from his portable processor, displaying blueprints for the rapid-fire Sticky Launcher.
The City Mayor’s eyes widened, but she leaned in, analyzing each mechanism section, mentally assembling the parts. Of course she gets it—she’s a Crafter too.
”These could be mass-produced,” she said after a pause. “You’re making all of them?”
”Three prototypes each, for field testing. I’ll hand over the best design based on their feedback.”
”A trial, then. Fine, I’ll approve it. Informally for now, but I’ll formalize it later.”
”Thanks,” Tatara nodded, already mapping out logistics with her. Only possible because she’s a Crafter too.
”Um…” The receptionist’s hesitant voice broke their focus.
”Oh, sorry,” Tatara said, realizing they’d been ignoring her. Our shop talk probably scared her off.
”What’s your relationship with the patient?” the receptionist asked. “You said ‘intruder and homeowner’ earlier.”
”Yup, exactly that,” Tatara confirmed.
”Uh… how do I even document that?” she muttered, clearly thrown by the idea of a good Samaritan hauling in an intruder.
”Tatara, explain,” the City Mayor said, her tone sharp. “You contacted me through Calmys, so there’s something serious going on, right?”
”Yeah. She’s not just an intruder—she’s an illegal border crosser.”
”Related to the Torakuma family?” the City Mayor asked, likely recalling recent Foolish Fox incidents.
”No, the teleportation gate was tampered with externally, letting her cross one-way. And the Torakuma family’s not involved.”
”How do you know?”
”Because she’s an Automaton Maiden.”
The City Mayor pressed a hand to her forehead, a rare crack in her composure. Automaton Maidens were a paradox in Whirlwind—a perfect fit yet deeply unwelcome. With so many Crafters, the city brimmed with Magic Devices, and Automaton Maidens could hack them, doubling their performance. That made them a liability. In one story, a magical empire nearly went to war after an Automaton Maiden stole a prized Magic Device. In another, an industrial nation’s first magitech warship was hijacked, nearly leading to its ruin.
Most Automaton Maidens weren’t troublemakers, but their rarity meant a few bad actors tainted their reputation. Tatara remembered a past tale where an Automaton Maiden’s selfless sacrifice, ascending to godhood, carved a path for the heroes. That fleeting, beautiful moment made her my favorite character. The troublemakers, though? They’re oddly compelling too. Hard to hate.
”So, what’s your plan with this Automaton Maiden?” the City Mayor asked.
”If there’s a life to save, I’ll save it. That’s all.”
”You know if she goes rogue, the damage could be catastrophic.”
”If that happens…” Tatara’s voice hardened. “I’ll end her.”
He’d tested Concept Appraisal earlier and glimpsed her weakness. As a half-mechanical, half-organic being, she was vulnerable—and he could destroy her. If she brings disaster to Whirlwind, I’ll stop it.
The City Mayor nodded quietly, accepting his resolve.
”You’re the one who brought her in?” a calm voice asked from behind.
Tatara turned to see an elderly man in surgical robes. “Yes, that’s me.”
The man’s face was grave. “We’ve done all we can for the Automaton Maiden, but without her core, her self-healing can’t activate. She likely has 24 hours left.”
”I… see,” Tatara said, the weight of failure sinking in.
”There’s a chance to save her, but it requires a replacement core. Unfortunately, we don’t have Soul Cores or Divine Cores here.”
The man’s apologetic tone was understandable. Soul Cores and Divine Cores were rare, dropped only by defeating powerful Angel or Demon Clan members deep in lower dungeon layers. Even with Tatia’s help, Tatara’s skills weren’t enough to reach those depths. Even the old-timers probably don’t have spares. It felt like a dead end.
”Can I speak with her?” Tatara asked.
”She’s still asleep, but since anesthesia doesn’t work on her, she’ll wake soon. We’re moving her to a private room, so you can talk there.”
The doctor glanced at the City Mayor and left. Ten minutes later, Tatara entered the private room. Bandages covered the girl’s left eye, likely hiding a severe wound. Her exposed arms were wrapped in blood-stained gauze, a painful sight. Without her core, neither her self-repair nor external healing could save her. Completely stuck.
”Ngh… h-huh?”
The Automaton Maiden stirred, her single visible eye opening to scan the ceiling. She touched the bandage over her left eye, registering its presence, then turned her head to survey the room. When her golden gaze locked onto Tatara, she froze. Her eye, like a glass marble, seemed to probe him, searching for something unknowable.
”Who… are you?” she asked, her voice high and faintly echoing.
”I’m Tatara, Tatara Julon, a Crafter in Whirlwind,” I said. “You appeared in my house out of nowhere, badly injured, so I brought you to this hospital.”
”Tatara Julon, Whirlwind, hospital… understood,” the Automaton Maiden replied, her voice calm and mechanical. “I was saved by you, Tatara Julon.”
I shook my head. Her golden, glass-like eyes flickered with confusion at my reaction.
”You haven’t been saved,” I said. “Your core is gone. Without a replacement, you’ll die within 24 hours.”
”I see,” she responded, her tone flat, almost indifferent.
Her lack of emotion grated on me. Is this because she’s half-machine? Does she not care about her own death?
”You understand that, for Tatara Julon, my continued existence is what defines my salvation,” she continued, her words a cold recitation of facts.
She stared at me, unblinking. “Yet you carried my damaged form to this hospital to prolong my life. That is the greatest action you could take to save me. Therefore, I judge it appropriate to express gratitude.”
Her golden eyes held mine, unwavering. “Thank you. At the very least, I can meet my end like a human.”
Is this what an Automaton Maiden is? I thought, frustration rising. Accepting death so calmly, like it’s nothing? Is this the kind of life the Machine God wanted? No way.
”Hey,” I said, voice sharp. “Don’t you want to live?”
”Given the circumstances, survival is impossible. Accepting the facts and preparing for termination is logical.”
”Don’t you ever think, I don’t want to die?”
”My termination will not impact the world.”
”Are you joking?”
”I am not joking. Automaton Maidens and organic lifeforms like you are different.”
I was on the verge of losing it. Her view of herself as just a machine was infuriating. Why can’t she see she was born from someone’s love? Why would the Machine God create a race that thinks like this?
”Do you have a family?” I asked.
”A mother, an Automaton Maiden, and a human father. No siblings.”
”Are they alive?”
”Both are alive.”
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Do you think your parents won’t grieve if you die?”
My chest tightened, emotions threatening to spill over. She’s injured. I shouldn’t lash out. But I couldn’t hold back.
”My mother might accept it, as she’s the same race. My father… he’d grieve. That’s who he is.”
”Are you messing with me?” I snapped.
”I’m not.”
”Then why are you giving up?”
”Because it’s inevitable.”
”If you give up from the start, even the gods will abandon you.”
Her golden eyes narrowed. What, getting mad, machine girl?
”Correct yourself,” she said, her voice steady but firm. “The Machine God does not abandon us.”
”Then why are you dying right now?”
”It’s fate.”
”Who decides that fate?”
”It’s…”
She fell silent.
”Can’t answer? Want me to say it for you?” I pressed.
”It’s…”
”Your precious god, right? Deciding your fate?”
”No.”
”Then who?”
”It’s…”
”See? You can’t answer. Your god’s abandoned you because you’ve handed your fate to someone else.”
”No.”
”Give me something to work with, then. Prove me wrong.”
”It’s… not true.”
”What’s not true?”
”I haven’t been abandoned.”
”Based on what?”
”I met you.”
Her words stopped me cold.
”You saved me. You brought me here. If I met you, then I haven’t been abandoned.”
”What are you talking about?”
”If the Machine God guided me to you, there must be a reason.”
”You think a mere human can do something?”
”No human who fights to save me could be ‘mere.’”
Her golden eyes locked onto mine, unyielding.
”You reject my acceptance of death,” she said. “When I was ready to give up, you brought up my parents, pushing me to think of survival. You invoked our Creator God to challenge my beliefs.”
Her voice was steady, weaving her thoughts with precision. “From the moment I accepted death, you saw me as a machine. You won’t see Automaton Maidens as human unless we fight to live, will you? That’s… arrogant.”
”Yeah, it’s arrogant,” I admitted. “Humans are arrogant. We claw at fate, struggling to survive.”
”Then… I’ll be human too.”
For the first time, emotion flickered in her golden eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
”Please help me,” she said, her voice trembling with raw need. “I don’t want to die yet.”
It was a desperate plea, the universal hunger for life that every living being shared. That’s what I needed to hear.
”Leave it to me,” I said. “I’ll do everything I can.”
She smiled, a delicate, radiant expression worthy of her maiden namesake.
”I have some questions,” I said. “Is the loss of your core the only issue?”
”Yes,” she replied. “My memory was damaged when the core was taken, so I can’t recall details, but my attacker destroyed my weapons, took my core, and left.”
Automaton Maidens were a high-combat race, amplifying magitech weapons with unmatched skill. Few could overpower them. Her minimal physical damage ruled out predatory beasts, and spirits would’ve shredded her beyond repair, uninterested in her core.
”Any enemies? Factions you’ve crossed?”
”I avoided conflicts with specific races. I stayed in Elf and Dwarf settlements while traveling, with no issues.”
”Ever been recruited by a nation?”
”Once. I declined.”
That’s probably it. Someone wanted her combat prowess, and when she refused, they took her core. Typical power grab.
”Can I see the wound?”
”Of course.” She sat up, pulling open her hospital gown to reveal the injury.
No blood flowed from the hole in her chest, exposing a mix of flesh and machinery. An empty space marked where her core once sat.
”Just the core’s removal, no other damage?”
”Yes. With a replacement core, my auto-repair function can restore my systems.”
If we can find a substitute power source, she’ll heal.
”What could work as a replacement?”
”Soul Cores or Divine Cores from Angel or Demon Clans.”
”Could an artificial Soul Core work?”
She blinked, processing the question. “Likely, yes. I’m unaware of such a thing, but if it exists, it would be highly compatible.”
”Because it’s man-made?”
”Correct. We were created by the Machine God, born from machines that gained divinity. A human-crafted core would be fitting.”
That settled it. I didn’t have a Soul Core, but I had something theoretically equivalent. I pulled an item from my Inventory, rarity be damned. No object is worth more than a life.
”Tatara Julon, that high-energy crystal…?” she asked, eyeing it.
”It’s called the Alchemist’s Egg,” I said. “Some call it their ultimate dream.”
”The Philosopher’s Stone… it’s real?” she whispered.
”Not real,” I corrected. “We reached it.”
She froze, processing the weight of my words. After a moment, she met my gaze again. “Someone achieved it? The creation of a substance said to enable life itself?”
”It’s not some fairy-tale miracle,” I said, holding up the Alchemist’s Egg. “But it’s enough to keep you alive.”
The Automaton Maiden’s eyes widened, and with a resolute breath, she spoke. “Please, use it on me. I’ll repay you—my strength, my body, whatever you want. Just… please.”
Her plea was raw, brimming with a desperate will to live. That’s the emotion I was waiting for. I nodded. “Alright, but I have one condition.”
”What is it?” she asked.
”Be happy.”
”…What?”
”You heard me,” I said. “The condition for giving you this Alchemist’s Egg is that you find happiness. That’s it.”
”Happiness… as a condition?” She looked down, stunned.
”What is happiness?” she asked softly.
”Who knows? It’s different for everyone.”
”I don’t understand it.”
”Then give up.”
”No,” she said firmly. “Giving up is the one thing I won’t do.”
”So what’s your plan?”
”I’ll search for it,” she declared. “With the time you’ve given me, I’ll find my happiness.”
”Don’t forget those words,” I said, holding out the Alchemist’s Egg.
She took it with both hands, carefully placing it into the hole in her chest. I caught a glimpse of the Egg connecting to her internal circuits before a blinding surge of Mana light erupted, sending a shockwave through the room. I stumbled back, shielding my eyes. When I looked up, she was enveloped in a radiant glow. The bandages fell away, revealing wounds knitting themselves shut. The gash in her chest sealed last, leaving her flawless.
”Thank you, Tatara Julon,” she said, a faint smile on her lips. “Your gift restored my functions—no, I’m stronger now. I could even defeat the one who attacked me.”
Before I could respond, I pulled a large cloak from my Inventory and draped it over her. “Have some modesty! You’re a girl, you know!”
”…Yes, my Master.”
Wait, what?
”Hold on, what did you say?”
”Yes, my Master,” she repeated, her tone earnest.
She’s serious. “Why?!”
”With a new core, I’ve updated my directives. I am now your sword and shield, sworn to protect you until my body breaks.”
”Sorry, what’s going on?”
”If needed, I can provide night services or bear your children.”
”That’s a bit heavy for a commitment!” I protested. I just saved her life, and now she’s pledging her entire existence? Ethelena’s gonna kill me.
”Let me introduce myself properly,” she said, extending her hand. “I am Dahlia, an Automaton Maiden who will serve you and seek happiness by your side. Pleased to meet you.”
I sighed. “Tatara Julon. Just a student and Crafter.”
I shook her hand, already sensing the chaos ahead. As we clasped hands, an odd sensation hit me—like someone was hugging me from behind. Not Dahlia, not the City Mayor—she’s outside. These invisible touches were getting more frequent. What’s up with that?
”By the way, Master,” Dahlia said, “I have a request.”
”Yeah, what’s up?”
”I’d like to meet the creator of the Alchemist’s Egg. I want to thank them for making it and giving you the means to save me.”
”Don’t worry about it,” I said.
”But, Master, that would be improper etiquette.”
”I’m the one who made it and figured out how to make it,” I said. “Your thanks are already received.”
Dahlia blinked, processing. “You said you were just a student.”
”I am a student.”
”…A Saint Scholar, then?”
”I know what you’re getting at, but no. I’m a regular student.”
”…Incomprehensible,” she muttered, her golden eyes narrowing in confusion.
Notes:
• 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.
• Dahlia – The automaton.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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