Chapter 79 The Master Touches the Blacksmith’s Misalignment
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Oh my, even you look a little surprised, Tatara.”
Her teasing voice brought me back to my senses.
Ah, damn it—I’d been warned her speech was old-fashioned, but I’d let myself freeze up. That must have looked rude.
”I’m sorry, Amatsu. I just wasn’t used to those words.”
”Heh, don’t fret it, boy. My way of talking’s a bit ancient, so most young folk can’t follow half of it. You’ll get used to it.”
Probably means she doesn’t mind, that her words are old and people don’t always understand—but she’s used to that… I think?
No confidence, but I’ll roll with it.
”No, I can still understand you well enough. Just because people are used to being misunderstood doesn’t mean it stops hurting.”
At my words, her single open eye widened slightly. Hard to read, but not impossible.
If her speech is old, my archaeology skill should help. I’ll match her words properly—that’s my way of showing respect.
”You’re an interesting man. Good, good. I apologize for rushing you, but show me one of your techniques so I can see what you’re missing.”
Hmm. “Interesting man. Good. Sorry to rush, but show me one of your techniques so I can see what you’re missing.”
Right—come on, archaeology skill, do your job! If I’m going to learn from her, I’d better understand what she says.
”…Tatara, you adjust fast, don’t you?”
”My lady, his people skills depend on compatibility-degozaru, but generally yes-degozaru.”
”If they’re not a bad match, they get along fast. Even Father and Mother bonded quickly.”
”I see. A natural charmer, then.”
They’re whispering something unflattering beside me, but I can’t spare any attention—I’m using all my focus to interpret Amatsu’s dialect.
Oh, right.
”Mother-in-law, you’re free to watch my forging, but please don’t talk to me while I’m working. I can’t guarantee how I’ll react if my concentration breaks.”
”Good call. The lady knows to stay quiet, but asking for that’s wise. A smith disturbed at the forge is never forgiven—it’s like interrupting a sacred rite.”
So: she says it’s right to speak beforehand, but once I start, interruption is unforgivable—like breaking a ritual.
Makes sense. She’s proud of her craft. I’m lucky to meet someone like this.
”Oi, Tatara-boy. Got a question. That eye of yours—were you born with it?”
”My eye?”
”Yeah. That golden color—was it there from birth?”
Tatara-boy? Guess that’s me.
So she’s asking if my gold eyes are natural.
”No, they turned this color later.”
”Rare thing, eyes turning gold. What caused it?”
Rare, huh. Should I tell her? Well, I’ll use it soon anyway—might as well.
”It started with how I use my Appraisal skill. My method’s unusual here. Over time, the skill’s influence changed my eyes. I regret it a little—my parents left me their eye color, and I changed it.”
”…Tatara, your parents?”
”They were in a hunting unit. They went deep into a dungeon to defeat a special creature. Only their bodies came back.”
Damn it. Even answering normally hurts. My chest tightens, and before I notice, my hand’s gripping the fabric over my heart. It feels like tearing open an old wound.
”That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”
No trouble understanding that one.
”It’s fine. You didn’t know.”
”No. Not knowing doesn’t excuse carelessness. I acted high and mighty, treating you like a child. That’s my fault. To make you recall such pain is shameful. I must apologize. I’m sorry, Tatara.”
A sincere person.
”…I accept your apology. If you truly wish to make amends, then teach me everything you can. I’ll learn it all in seven days—steal every bit of your craft.”
”Hah! You dare say you’ll steal an old smith’s lifetime in seven days? Bold words! Fine then, Tatara-boy, I’ll be strict!”
”Yes, please!”
He said, I’ll be strict. And I think he’s softening his words a little for me.
They said he was difficult, but he’s kind at heart.
When we entered the workshop, Amatsu looked amazed at the equipment.
No surprise—the front room holds almost nothing for blacksmithing; it’s mostly devices for alchemy and magic tools.
”Tatara-boy, you forge here?”
”Not here. The forge is in the back. This room’s for research—alchemy, mostly.”
”That’s not my field, boy. Can’t teach you much there.”
”That’s fine. I build and study things on my own—it’s more of a hobby than real work.”
”You made this whole room for a hobby? You’re a crazy one.”
Maybe so, but even my hobbies help the people in this city. So it’s not just self-indulgence.
Talking as we went, we reached the forge. Amatsu’s eyes widened again, surprised by what she saw.
”Good place. Well kept. You’ve drawn mana straight from the vein to feed the fire and water. Tatara-boy, you’ve got talent—this forge alone shows it.”
That sounds like praise. A high one at that.
”Thank you. Then, I’ll start. I’ll forge a sword of the kind most common in this city. Please watch.”
”Go ahead. I’ll be watching closely. Give it your all.”
Got it. He’ll be watching carefully—then I’ll give everything I’ve got.
Amatsu stood silent as I began, my mother-in-law quietly joining her, hiding her smile behind the fan I’d given her. She was here just to observe.
From my inventory, I drew an iron ingot and placed it in the forge. The mana-rich fire glowed, softening the metal.
Before it melted, I pulled it out and set it on the anvil, hammer ready.
Strike. Stretch. Cut and fold.
Again and again—hammering out distortion, folding, shaping, purifying.
The layers of steel thinned to one in a hundred thousand; each strike precise to the same measure, driving out every flaw.
Twenty repetitions, then more—until the blade held over a million layers of metal. I plunged it into the water to quench it.
Normally, that kind of sudden cooling would shatter steel.
But in mana-filled water, the heat fled while the metal held fast, unbroken.
I pulled the iron from the water, polished it, and shaped the edge.
The blade was clean—no visible temper line where the metal had fused, just a straight, smooth surface.
I fitted a handle made from orc material.
Less than an hour from start to finish. Maybe I’d gotten a little faster.
”…Tatara-boy, what was that speed just now?”
Amatsu’s brows were drawn tight as she asked the question.
She must mean how fast I was moving. Did I do something wrong?
”Uh, that’s just my normal pace, I guess.”
”Too fast! My eyes could barely follow, and that sword—what in the blazes is that? What are you planning to learn from me!?”
”Wait—wait, you’re talking too fast!”
She was speaking so quickly my brain couldn’t keep up with the translation.
Let’s see… “You’re too fast. My eyes can hardly keep up, and this result is unnatural. What is this, what could you possibly learn from me?”
Yeah, that sounds about right.
”Please calm down, Amatsu. I’ve seen Tatara’s blacksmithing before, and yes, his speed is abnormal. Now that I’ve witnessed it directly, I understand why Yohira sometimes calls it ‘Tatar-ing.’ But please, take a breath and just teach him what he still lacks… It’s strange enough that he doesn’t even need someone’s rhythm beside him while forging.”
”No rhythm breaks at all! The boy’s smoother than me! He doesn’t need seven days to steal my craft—three will do!”
Wait—what?
She’s saying there’s not a single wasted motion. Maybe she even thinks I’m better than her.
That I could steal her lifetime of skill in three days instead of seven.
Huh?
”What are you, boy—a reincarnation of a divine craftsman!? Are you trying to finish the sword of the gods!?”
Divine… what? I didn’t understand that word.
”Amatsu, you really think that highly of him?”
”Of course. Tatara-boy’s already grasped the very heart of forging. From the start, he’s different. He only needs to learn how to make a katana!”
Wait—what!? The conversation’s running off without me!
She’s saying I’ve already mastered the essence of smithing, and that she only needs to teach me katana crafting?
No, no, no—don’t leave yet!
”Wait, please! Don’t just leave now! I’ve been waiting to learn katana blacksmithing from you! Ever since Yohira showed me one of your blades—I’ve wanted to make something that beautiful myself! Please don’t take that chance from me!”
”I’ll give you the scrolls. Read them. I can’t teach you directly. It’ll taint your purity.”
Purity? What does that even mean!?
”Hold on, what!? I haven’t even seen you forge yet! I can’t steal your techniques if you don’t show them to me!”
”To show you my history would be shameful. What pride could I keep if I did?”
This isn’t the time for calm translation—I’m losing her!
”Why would you say that!? I love seeing the skills people have built up over their lives!”
”That’s just your odd habit! You like to snatch up other people’s joy, don’t you!?”
”I do not! And if that’s how you see it, then why were you watching my blacksmithing just now!?”
And just like that, we were arguing—voices rising, neither giving ground.
What kind of exchange is this? I showed her everything, and she won’t show me anything back!?
”…Tatara,” my mother-in-law cut in, “you don’t actually understand what Amatsu is saying, do you?”
”…Wait—what?”
Now that she mentioned it, the words in my head had started sounding doubled, as if two meanings overlapped.
When I checked, my Archaeology II skill had quietly maxed out. I boosted its rank right away, then turned back to Amatsu.
”Anyway,” I said, clearing my throat, “this is a rare chance. I’m going to steal every bit of your technique. You said yourself—you’d go hard on me. Were those just words?”
”Hah. Then tell me, boy—who taught you to forge like that?”
She means—who taught me blacksmithing.
”No one did. If I had to name my teachers, they’d be my skills themselves.
I learned crafting from Crafting, material appraisal from Appraisal, transformation from Alchemy, structure from Creation Magic, and hammer control from Hammer Mastery.
All I did was follow what those skills showed me.”
”…So you reached the realm of the divine craftsman, huh…”
Divine craftsman? So that’s what “shinsō” means?
But what even is a divine craftsman?
”Um, what exactly is a divine craftsman?”
At that, both Amatsu and my mother-in-law stared at me, startled.
Maybe it’s something famous in Hizuru?
”You mean you’ve never heard the tale of the divine craftsman, Tatara?”
”Not at all. At least, no one in Whirlwind ever mentioned it.”
My mother-in-law frowned, as if wondering whether it was right to explain.
Amatsu scratched the back of her head and spoke instead.
”Tatara-boy, a divine craftsman is the one who first passed the art of forging to humankind.”
”You mean—someone taught people blacksmithing?”
”Right. Long ago, when people had no skill for such things, a god sent down a being with that gift.”
So… people back then didn’t have the wisdom to develop techniques on their own?
The gods sent down the first Crafting user, one who wielded divine skill granted by heaven.
A person who carried that gift—that’s what they called a divine craftsman.
But that means people couldn’t live or progress without divine mercy…
”Tatara,” my mother-in-law said gently, “don’t misunderstand. The divine craftsman wasn’t born from nothing.”
”How do you mean?”
”In our land of Hizuru, there are many minor gods—weak divinities among the eight million spirits. Most of them rose to that state after great effort, earning a Soul Core through devotion or discipline. Some trained for ages, others gained strength through the faith of mortals.
The divine craftsman is simply one among them.”
So… it wasn’t that a god gave someone a skill to spread among humans.
Maybe it was the opposite—that a person mastered blacksmithing so perfectly that it became a divine skill, and the person themselves rose to godhood.
But then—which version is true? Amatsu’s or my mother-in-law’s?
”Tatara-boy,” Amatsu said, “the lady’s right enough, but there’s a twist. The cause and effect are reversed.”
”Reversed?”
”Yeah. The divine craftsman didn’t master smithing because they followed the skill.
They spread smithing because they had already become the skill.”
”…So the viewpoint is different. Following the skill versus being the skill itself.”
Exactly.
The so-called divine craftsman may have said they followed a skill, but really, their instincts were the skill.
When I follow the instructions my Crafting skill gives—the most efficient methods left behind by the world—it just happens to look the same from outside.
That’s probably why she thought of that connection.
”But I’m not a divine craftsman.”
”Huh?”
”I used to follow Crafting exactly, but a few years ago, I stopped. It didn’t fit me anymore.
Now, I forge my own way.”
”…If that’s not divine craftsmanship, I don’t know what is.”
Yeah, I guess it always comes back to that.
But while my mother-in-law spoke with her usual calm tone, Amatsu was watching me closely, one hand pressed to her chin, thinking hard.
”Oi, Tatara-boy.”
”Yes?”
”You said you left the divine path. Explain.”
Her one open eye fixed on me—sharp, unwavering, as if it could see straight through lies.
”I followed my Crafting skill for a long time, but eventually it started to feel wrong.
Little things—like where the hammer should strike, or how long to heat the iron.
It all felt off. So I changed my movements, adjusted them to what felt natural, and as I did, the results became clearly better.”
Around that time, I also began to sense how fast the iron cooled.
When I matched my timing to that rhythm, I could forge a full sword in about an hour.
Of course, fast cooling’s dangerous—without mana-infused water or chemical aid, the steel would crack. I had to be careful.
”Now I mostly use the Crafting skill to help control my body, or to project the image of what I want onto the ingot while shaping it.”
”I see,” my mother-in-law murmured. “So that’s why no one in this city can catch up to you.”
She seemed to realize something, though I didn’t quite get what.
Amatsu, after a thoughtful silence, gave a slow nod, like she’d reached a decision.
”…Tatara-boy, forget what I said before. I’ll show you my forging.”
Those words hit me like a spark.
I wasn’t sure what changed her mind, but finally—she’d agreed to show me her craft.
”Ah—yes! Of course! Should I prepare the forge now? I can explain how to use the equipment—”
”Hold on, boy! Don’t get ahead of yourself!”
”…Honestly, Tatara,” my mother-in-law sighed, “you’re still such a child.”
I’d lunged forward in excitement, and Amatsu had to push me back in panic.
My mother-in-law looked on with that familiar half-exasperated, half-amused expression.
While waiting for Ethelena and the others to return, I spent the time reading the books Amatsu had given me—manuals written in Hizuru about all kinds of crafts.
I studied the basic katana-forging methods, copying notes and writing my impressions beside them.
”Tatara-boy,” Amatsu asked, “you can read the old script of our land?”
”Eh?”
I glanced down at the ancient pages again.
The characters weren’t like the old Japanese I remembered from my past life, but somehow—I could read them.
At first it was slow, but soon the meanings just flowed.
In my notebook, I was already writing a translation into Whirlwind Common, the language of the continent.
Someday, maybe it could help in academic research.
”I never studied it formally,” I said, “but my Archaeology skill seems to adjust for old languages, so I can kind of feel what the text means.”
”You can read the ancient tongue like that? Are you sure you’re not a scholar?”
”I’m definitely not smart enough to be a scholar.”
”…Hmph.”
Amatsu looked away, her gaze oddly distant.
Did I say something strange?
My focus drifted, and I looked toward where Yohira was dancing for my mother-in-law.
She was offering small corrections between steps, sometimes demonstrating moves herself.
Her skill was clearly superior, but still—I liked Yohira’s dance more. It had life in it.
”As expected of the lady,” Amatsu said softly. “A dance worthy of Uzume.”
”Uzume… you mean Ame-no-Uzume-no-Mikoto, the goddess of dance?”
”That’s right. The true Uzume hasn’t risen to heaven for a long time. Soon, the next to inherit her dance will appear.”
”Inherit… Wait, Amatsu,” I asked, “do you know the god of forging, Ame-no-Mahitotsu-no-Mikoto of Hizuru?”
She froze, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
”Of course I do. Every smith in the land knows that name. Why do you?”
”The Acting Head of my family told me I resembled him.”
”You? Not even close.”
”Well, from what I heard, it’s just the golden eyes and the fact that I’m a blacksmith.”
Yeah—that must be it. The eyes.
Golden eyes, same as the divine smith. That’s probably what caught their attention.
”Master,” came a cheerful voice, “for dinner, Lady Tatara brought fish from Hizuru. I’ll make grilled fish-degozaru.”
”Ah—right! Sorry, I left all the cooking to you.”
”No problem-degozaru. I am, after all, the perfect wife and wise fox who supports her master-degozaru.”
She winked at me.
Normally I’d throw in a sarcastic remark, but with her household skills and thoughtfulness, it was hard to argue.
”…Master, where’s your usual sharp comeback-degozaru?”
”I can’t deny that you’d make a great wife and mother.”
”Why would you say that so casually-degozaru…”
Her voice carried exasperation, but her tail swayed happily as she walked to the kitchen in my usual apron.
Amatsu watched her go with a curious look, as if she recognized something.
”Amatsu,” I asked, “have you met that fox before, maybe back in your homeland?”
”No. I saw one who looked similar once, but that one never smiled like her.”
So she’s saying she might’ve met her before, but that she wasn’t the same person because the other never smiled…
It felt more like she was telling me not to pry into the fox’s past.
For all her gruffness, Amatsu was surprisingly considerate.
”So,” she said, “any parts of the book you don’t understand?”
”No, I’m fine. I learned a lot—things like water-hardening, small splitting, stretching, and fire-shaping. We don’t use those here, so it’s fascinating.”
”The iron here’s pure,” she said. “You’ll make fine steel with it.”
Apparently, the ingots from dungeons have fewer impurities, and my Alchemy and Crafting skills purify them even more.
That means they hold the ideal carbon balance for katana blades, skipping several steps in the process.
Amatsu looked half impressed, half exasperated when she said it.
”So the forging method I’ve been using is called Ichimonji-style forging, huh.”
It means shortening the length and folding it in half while hammering.
I’d never known the name until now.
”Yeah,” she said. “Mine’s Cross-style forging. We’ll see which suits you better.”
Cross-style—forging length and width alternately, according to the notes.
Neither is better or worse—it just depends on the blacksmith’s philosophy.
I could feel my excitement rising.
How would I change after learning this?
A smile crept onto my face before I knew it.
Amatsu saw it and sighed in defeat.
”Welcome back,” someone called from the doorway.
While we were still talking, Ethelena and the others came back.
I heard quick, light footsteps racing toward the living room—judging by the sound, that had to be Dahlia.
”Master! Please, make me an Arcane Armor!”
”Welcome back, Dahlia. First, calm down.”
She came running up like an excited dog tugging at its leash. I spoke to her in my best “calm-down” tone.
”I’ll make it for you later. For now, go take a bath and relax.”
”Yes, Master!”
Off she went, sprinting toward the bath.
A moment later, Ethelena and Tatia stepped in to replace her.
”Welcome back, Ethelena. And nice to see you again, Tatia.”
”Mm, I’m home, Tatara.”
”Thank you for having me, Tatara-dono.”
They greeted me, then both turned curious eyes toward the unfamiliar figure sitting beside me—Amatsu.
Seeing their puzzled looks, I gave a wry smile.
”This is Amatsu, a blacksmith from Hizuru. She came to teach me the art of katana forging. Amatsu, these two are my party members—Ethelena and Tatia.”
”Ah, I’m Ethelena Nelara Baral, Tatara’s fiancée.”
”I’m Tatia, a knight apprentice. It’s an honor.”
Amatsu gave a slow, dignified nod before speaking.
”Amatsu, the blacksmith. I’ll be in your care for a while.”
”…Huh?”
”What did she say?”
Ah, right. I’d gotten used to her old dialect, but the others hadn’t. I’d forgotten.
”She said, ‘I’m Amatsu, the blacksmith. I’ll be in your care during my short stay.’
She speaks an old form of Hizuru’s language—it’s a bit tricky, but I’ll translate.”
”Ah—sorry, Amatsu, I didn’t mean to react so awkwardly.”
”I apologize as well, I should have been more polite.”
”No worry,” Amatsu said with a soft chuckle. “Folk rarely understand old tongues.”
”She says not to worry, she’s used to it,” I translated.
Great… maybe I should craft some Archaeology-linked accessories for them later.
Before I could think further, Yohira and my mother-in-law entered.
”Wait—Torakuma’s mother!? Why are you—? Tatara, are you leaving!?”
”Calm yourself, Ethelena,” Yohira said gently. “You’re jumping too far. She only came to visit, along with bringing Amatsu here.”
Ethelena visibly relaxed as Yohira’s calm voice guided her.
She’s gotten much better at handling Ethelena’s flustered energy.
My mother-in-law, smiling warmly at the scene, suddenly seemed to remember something.
”Oh, that’s right! Tatara.”
”Yes, ma’am?”
”I’ll be staying here as well until seven days from now, when Amatsu returns. Please take care of me.”
”…I—uh, sure. Of course.”
Wait. She’s staying too?
I mean, I could ask Yohira to share a room with her and maybe they could bathe together and—wait.
”—WHAT!?”
Did she just say she’s staying here?
You’re the most important person in Torakuma’s territory, aren’t you!?
”Hold on, hold on, hold on! What are you saying, Mother-in-law!?”
”Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve spent time with Yohira. I thought I’d see how she’s been doing.”
You can’t just casually say that!
”Does the Acting Head of Family know about this!?”
”Of course. I left a message on my mirror with red lipstick—so it’s fine.”
That’s not fine! That’s… that’s a lipstick message!
Wait, that’s not even the point!
”Even if I don’t know your exact position, wouldn’t your absence cause serious problems!?”
”Oh, my duties? Just a little diplomacy and domestic affairs.”
”Yohira, is that true?”
”She’s not lying,” Yohira said with a sigh. “The trouble is that her work mainly involves the emperor and sacred rituals.”
”THAT’S A HUGE PROBLEM!”
So she’s one of the most powerful and crucial people in the country—why is she acting like she’s here on vacation!?
”And there’s another reason I wanted to stay,” she added, her tone turning more serious.
”When I visited before, something caught my attention.”
Something serious enough to change her tone?
Depending on what it was, I might need to fix it immediately.
”The barrier around this house—its power output hides it well, but the formula itself is poorly structured.
I’m familiar with warding spells, so I thought I’d personally make some improvements.”
Yeah, that’s definitely important.
I’d left the barrier maintenance for later, but if someone like her was going to stay here, I needed to act fast.
Still, how skilled was she with magic, exactly?
”Hey, Yohira,” I whispered. “How much does your mother know about spellcraft?”
”She’s not just knowledgeable—she’s an expert.
She’s the honorary advisor of our national Institute of Sorcery.”
”…She’s overloaded with credentials.”
If I showed her my version of the enhancement spell formula, maybe she could even optimize it.
Would that count as a kind of technical exchange? Maybe?
”…Tatara,” she said, turning to me. “What is it you want from me?”
”…Would you mind hearing me out? As a researcher, I’d like your opinion.”
”Very well. Ichika, could you bring us some tea?”
”Y-yes, right away-degozaru!”
Whoa. The poor fox looked terrified.
She trembled as she poured tea for us, hands shaking slightly.
Before she left, I gently patted her head, slowly, until the tension eased and her smile returned.
Good. That’s better.
When I turned back, my mother-in-law was smiling again—this time like a scholar who’d just found something very interesting.
”…Please, just pretend you didn’t see that,” I sighed.
”All right,” she said lightly. “Now, let’s hear it.”
Suppressing another sigh, I opened my word processor and projected a glowing diagram in the air—the formula for my enhancement spell.
Her expression instantly sharpened as she examined it.
”This is… rather inefficient, but very powerful.
Where did this come from?”
”It’s the spell used in my armor—the one I showed during the meeting earlier. It enhances the wearer’s body.”
”I see. You’re aiming to synchronize artificial muscle systems with enhancement magic for layered strengthening. Smart.”
No wonder she was an honorary advisor—she understood it instantly.
”The reward,” she said thoughtfully, “is simply being allowed to take this research back with me.
It could be applied in our country.”
”How about we treat it as a joint research project, with shared patent rights?”
”In that case, it would be a personal collaboration between you and me.”
And just like that, she began outlining terms—efficient and decisive.
She proposed an 80–20 profit split in my favor.
When I hesitated, she joked that if I refused, she’d make it 90–10 instead, but claim the right to name my first child.
I accepted the 80–20.
Why does she threaten people by offering more money? And why is her negotiation pressure so terrifying?
To make sure my mother-in-law could continue her research, I handed her a spare word processor.
I was planning to just give it to her, but she insisted on paying for it—two hundred thousand gold, including the internal data.
She originally tried to hand me ten million. Please, don’t try to buy me off with money bricks—it’s terrifying.
Next, I inscribed Telepathy and Empathic Link spell formulas between our devices, effectively creating a tiny pseudo-network between us.
Then I synced it through the teleportation gate, letting her connect from the Torakuma estate in Hizuru directly to my home.
She gave me a look somewhere between fascination and mild disbelief—but I pretended not to notice.
”Ah, Yohira,” I said, “could you let Mother stay in your room for now? I’ll bring a futon later.”
”Well… I suppose that’s inevitable,” she sighed.
Sorry, Yohira. Really.
By the time we finished setting that up, Ethelena and Tatia had come back from their baths, and the foolish fox had finished dinner.
The dishes were lined up neatly on the table.
Meanwhile, Hinagiku—who had immediately changed back into a lame T-shirt—was slumped on the sofa, lost in thought.
I could’ve sworn I saw a spectral demon’s face appear behind my mother-in-law as she watched her.
Please, don’t actually let your “oni” heritage manifest as divine intimidation—my spine can’t take it.
”Master, you really do love rolled omelets-degozaru.”
That’s what she said right after I bit into her tamagoyaki.
Apparently, my face had instantly turned into a huge smile.
”Well yeah—it’s perfect. The dashi flavor’s spot on, the texture’s flawless.
The sweetness from the mirin, the umami from the katsuobushi and niboshi stock, plus the grated daikon and scallions—honestly, it’s divine.
I could eat this alone forever.”
”Kyuun…”
The foolish fox let out a tiny whimper, her ears folding down as her tail wagged wildly.
Guess I embarrassed her again.
”…Yohira?”
”This is just how Tatara normally is, Mother.”
”Mm. For unmarried girls, that kind of behavior is practically toxic.”
”Hey—why am I suddenly being labeled a womanizer again?”
I’m not flirting. I’m complimenting the food.
”Tatara,” my mother-in-law said calmly, “I don’t mind that you practice with Ichika first, but please make sure your second is Yohira.”
”I—don’t even want to know what you’re talking about, and please stop.”
And also—don’t call it practice. Poor fox.
And Ethelena, stop glaring at me like that! I’m not doing anything!
Unless you’re pregnant, the only person I’d ever be with is you, okay!?
Dinner over, I turned straight to my next task—making Dahlia’s armor.
Using the newly gathered mana stones and some from before, I synthesized fifty Alchemist’s Eggs.
Those would be the catalyst to sublimate mithril, shifting its structure from white-silver to a pale blue hue—”high mithril.”
When I appraised the result, the tag confirmed it: High Mithril.
”Yeah, just as expected—High Mithril.”
”…Tatara,” said my mother-in-law, who had slipped into the workshop at some point. “Do you realize how outrageous that is?”
Apparently, she’d come purely out of curiosity about the armor I was making.
Well, fair enough—any crafter would want to see this.
”It’s a metal sublimation process I’ve recently mastered,” I explained. “Works with mithril and orichalcum.”
”How do their properties change?”
”Mithril behaves almost like a shape-memory alloy—it can alter form when mana flows through it.
I mainly use it as the base for my new artificial muscles.
Orichalcum, meanwhile, enhances sensory linkage—it’s great for synchronizing with those muscles and improving control.”
”So that’s the basis for the Genbu armor you showed during the meeting, then?”
”Exactly.
I used to simulate it with artificial orichalcum, but once I got my hands on the real thing, I tested it—and the performance skyrocketed.”
Her face twisted slightly, caught between awe and confusion.
It wasn’t that complicated, was it?
”…And this process—does it rely entirely on those ‘eggs’?”
”Partly. You can substitute a Soul Core, but that changes the result based on its origin.
If the Soul Core’s from an angel, you get Saint Mithril.
If it’s from a creature of darkness, it becomes Evil Mithril.
Only the High Mithril I just made is attribute-neutral—and that’s only possible with the Eggs.”
”Attribute…?”
”Yeah. The metal inherits the mana’s elemental bias.
If the attributes match, the output’s absurdly high.
If they clash, it drops to less than a tenth.”
She listened intently, eyes sharp with interest.
Guess I should explain the stability too.
”The High Mithril I just made has lower peak output than the others, but it’s far more stable.
I haven’t tested it yet, but I suspect it’ll maintain consistent power no matter what Soul Core it’s paired with.”
”I see… that’s because of your Concept Appraisal, isn’t it?”
”Exactly. I can read the structure well enough to grasp the function.”
Basically, I can predict how the metal reacts to mana flow.
Remembering how Saint and Evil Mithril behaved helped a lot.
The same ability let me measure sensitivity increases when enhancing orichalcum too.
Concept Appraisal is indispensable to my R&D.
”You’ve explained it well,” she said softly. “Still… I envy that ability. My own appraisal technique is too rigid.”
That sounded like honest envy. I decided not to comment.
As we talked, I used half the Eggs to create more High Mithril—each Egg could sublimate three ingots, about 300 grams total.
Dahlia weighs roughly 45 kilos, so I forged about 22.5 kilos worth for the artificial muscles.
The cost alone could probably bankrupt a noble house.
My mother-in-law’s jaw practically hit the floor.
”…Tatara-boy,” came a voice from behind me, “you makin’ some kinda spirit corpse there?”
I turned around. Amatsu was staring at the process like I’d just summoned a god.
”Oh—Amatsu. This is called an Alchemist’s Egg—”
”Don’t tell me! It sounds cursed enough already!”
Come on, that’s harsh. It’s one of my proudest inventions!
Sure, maybe recycling mana stones harvested from monsters sounds a little curse-y, but still!
At last, the new artificial muscles—enough to cover half of Dahlia’s body weight—were complete.
Next came the interfaces: neck, wrists, ankles, and along the spine.
These would relay motion and mana between Dahlia’s body and the Arcane Armor itself.
I grabbed 600 grams of orichalcum ingots and sublimated them using three Alchemist’s Eggs.
Compared to mithril, orichalcum demanded far more mana—one Egg could only handle 200 grams before burning out.
But the enhancement payoff was incredible.
Strength improved roughly 1.5×, but sensitivity—mana responsiveness—quadrupled.
It could channel human will directly into the metal as mana.
If I were to forge a magic sword like Calmys-san’s Fiero using both sublimated mithril and orichalcum,
it would probably reach absurd, even nonsensical levels of performance.
Maybe not quite Kelav tier, but as a human-made chained sword? It’d be top class.
Still… I shouldn’t. The City Mayor’s stomach might literally implode from stress.
A pity, though—part of me really wants to make it.
”Master, I’ve been waiting! Let’s begin right away!”
Dahlia burst into the workshop, full of energy.
She was already wearing that thin practice outfit Tatia used before—completely ready for testing.
My mother-in-law and Amatsu both turned sharp gazes toward me, clearly thinking something.
But my focus was on the work ahead.
”Dahlia, do you want me to appraise your body, or should I take full measurements?”
”Which is faster?”
”Appraisal.”
”Then Appraisal, please!”
Quick decision. She’s really excited about the Arcane Armor.
Still, this time things were a little different.
”Sorry, but after today’s adjustments, I’ll have to stop at the inner muscle armor.”
”…What?”
Her blank stare said she truly didn’t understand.
But this wasn’t negotiable.
”Because I can’t ignore the master blacksmith who came all the way to teach me katana forging, that’s why.
I’ll use the new artificial muscles to make your inner muscle armor first, test the output—then we continue.”
”That’s… that’s cruel! How could you stop there!?”
”…Don’t you want to see what the new armor can do?”
”I really want to!!”
That was fast.
I activated Concept Appraisal, scanning Dahlia’s mechanical body structure in detail.
Muscle contraction range, joint articulation, habitual movement patterns—all logged.
Then I fed the data into the pre-built muscle armor framework, adjusting each artificial muscle accordingly.
Unlike Tatia’s earlier version, this new type covered her fingers completely.
It alone could offer significant defensive capability and amplify her physical performance dramatically.
The armor would draw mana directly from Dahlia herself, so I engraved activation spell formulas onto the sublimated orichalcum interfaces—neck, wrists, ankles, spine.
”Ah, Tatara-san,” said my mother-in-law, peering over my shoulder.
”If you rewrite these glyphs here and here, mana circulation efficiency will rise by about twenty percent.”
She was right. I adjusted the formula mentally, and the improvement was immediate.
Even if Dahlia had enough raw mana to brute-force it, optimizing the flow was worthwhile.
I incorporated her suggestions and applied an improved enhancement formula to the muscles, evolving the armor’s core far beyond the initial design.
Finally, it was time for Dahlia to try it on.
”Hehe… Master, feast your eyes on my beautiful, slender form!”
”…Dahlia’s?”
I raised my gaze from her head to her toes—and then back up at the same slow pace.
”…Hah.”
”What is that reaction!?”
My expression? Pure disbelief.
Did she really think that could tempt the man who’s seen the Boob Saint herself?
”I’ve never once felt sexual attraction toward you.”
”Wha—! But Yohira-sama and I aren’t that different!”
”I fell for Yohira’s heart, not her body.
If you think you can win me over with your looks, bring Tatia here first—she’s got you beat.”
The moment I said it, my mother-in-law’s face lit up like she’d just witnessed the birth of her grandkids.
…Maybe I should’ve kept that to myself.
Dahlia powered on the armor without waiting for my cue.
The loose artificial muscles tightened, molding perfectly to her frame.
She moved slowly, testing the fit and control.
”…Magnificent,” she whispered. “This is my personal dress.”
”Well, it’s a bit crude for that—it’s more like… battle underwear.”
”You ruined it, Master.”
Yeah, poor word choice.
But technically true—this armor goes under everything else.
”Hold still, I’m checking internal status alignment.”
”Yes, my Master.”
Using Concept Appraisal again, I examined the synchronization between her body and the armor.
Being an automaton maiden helped; she adapted almost instinctively.
Still, I spotted minor distortions and corrected them manually, tuning out hidden quirks in her movement.
Ten minutes passed. Longer than usual, but perfection takes time.
”…So this is the craftsmanship of Tatara Julon,” Dahlia murmured, awestruck.
”The exterior armor comes later,” I said. “But this should fit under your maid uniform just fine, right?”
”Ah… I see now. That’s why you made this first.”
”Exactly. The outer layer has to be shaped around the inner muscle armor’s structure.”
Originally, I’d wanted to make one for the City Mayor too—to boost her defenses.
But she refused, saying she’d rather risk death than use something she didn’t create herself.
I don’t know if she’s completed her own prototype yet…
I hope she has.
”So?” I asked finally.
Dahlia stretched her limbs and grinned, the armor moving seamlessly with her—smooth, powerful, responsive.
I’d integrated parts of my own Genbu armor’s design, so even the inner suit alone could unleash small-scale mana bombardments.
She finished her test movements, then looked up at me, eyes shining.
”…Perfect. It moves exactly as I do.”
I couldn’t help but smile back.
Yeah. That’s what a true masterpiece should feel like.
Notes:
• Amatsu – A master blacksmith and a female. Demonstrate forging skill to Tatara. The duel arises from Tatara’s request for guidance. Senior craftsman guiding Tatara. No kin known. Golden right eye and calm mastery define her.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Dahlia – The automaton.
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi.
• Hinagiku – A tengu woman as Ranka’s potential companion. She stays with Tatara’s group after travels. Joins household scenes only. Linked to Ranka by shared gluttony jokes. No direct tie to Tatara beyond cohabitation. Cheerful eater.
• 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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