Chapter 72 The Blacksmith Reforges
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”How many of those ancient Arcane Armors still exist, I wonder? If someone asked me to donate one to a museum, I doubt I could refuse.”
”Master,” Dahlia said, her tone calm and precise, “Arcane Armor was born for battle. It would rather fall on the battlefield than rust away behind glass.”
Her words carried such conviction that I almost believed she could speak with the armor itself. Given her strange connection to artificial things, maybe she could.
”Well, let’s not destroy it completely,” I said. “It’s still a piece of history.”
”I agree,” Dahlia replied. “But studying it could teach us a lot. To know how the ancients built their magic devices—oh, now I’m excited.”
”I know that feeling,” said the city mayor with a soft laugh. “Learning from the past is how progress is made.”
”…Crafters really are like children,” Dahlia muttered.
The mayor and I both stared at the shining form of Reinforce, our thoughts likely the same. Dahlia’s sigh went unnoticed.
”I’m glad you like it,” the mayor said, smiling warmly. “I thought this sort of thing might appeal to a man. Seems I was right.”
Sister Kareha laughed beside her, cheerful as always. Honestly, she and the mayor both felt like people I could never hope to outmatch—mentally or otherwise.
”Oh, that reminds me,” Kareha said suddenly. “Tatara, would you be willing to buy some scrap metal?” Sister Ranka, our new apprentice, has been eating us out of house and home.
”Scrap metal?” I blinked. That came out of nowhere. But I decided to at least take a look before answering.
”Let’s see it,” I said.
”Of course. These, here.”
She pulled out a heap of weapon and armor fragments—mostly iron, with a few bits of steel glinting here and there. Must’ve been about fifty kilos of junk.
”I’m embarrassed to admit it,” Kareha said, scratching her cheek. “These are weapons I broke back when I was still active.”
”…And why exactly did you keep them all, Paladin Kareha?” Calmys couldn’t help but ask. Honestly, I wondered the same. She must have wrecked a mountain’s worth of gear in her time.
After sorting through the pile, I counted about fifty kilos of metal and eight more of torn leather and cloth. Only the iron was worth anything; the rest was too damaged to reuse.
”Fifty thousand,” I said. “The leather and fabric are too far gone, but the metal still has value.”
”Oh, that helps a lot. We’ve got a big eater at home, you see,” Kareha replied.
She probably meant Sister Ranka. Guess I’ll need to make another donation to cover their food bills.
Come to think of it, Ranka and the tengu girl Hinagiku, who’s been staying with me lately, might get along—though one eats endlessly without gaining weight while the other… well, the opposite.
”Master,” Dahlia said suddenly, “with this much iron, could we build my Arcane Armor?”
”Maybe. Not a high-end one, but it’s possible.”
She looked slightly disappointed at that. I could probably make the low-tier Sarsium model, but to reach Gladiolus—the high-end design—I lacked the right magic metals.
I’d already finished plans for a jet engine powered by Fluid Mana Stones, but I hadn’t built or tested it yet. And honestly, I had a hunch that using the Alchemist’s Egg as a mana driver might be even more efficient. I wanted to complete a full prototype before customizing anything for Dahlia.
”Before that,” the mayor said from beside me, “shouldn’t you test the power system on your own armor first?”
She was watching me with sharp, glowing eyes.
Was she planning to stay and observe? If she joined the process like she did during the artificial orichalcum experiment, I wouldn’t mind—it had been fun working together.
Kareha also seemed interested in watching. Since there was nothing secret about it, I decided to work right there in the workshop.
I pulled out the Black Iron armor from my inventory and hung it on the maintenance frame I’d built recently.
The mechanical arms extended and clamped onto the armor’s limbs. It was a beautiful sight—every craftsman’s dream.
Once the armor was fully secured, I opened the chest and back plates, removing the non–Soul Core power unit from the rear. Having made it in modular blocks made disassembly easy.
I took a piece of mithril and the Egg from storage, shaped the mithril into a case to hold it, and etched mana circuits inside and out to connect with the armor. After slotting the Egg inside and linking the circuits, the runes lit up. The Black Iron came alive.
”…Not good,” I muttered. “The armor’s structure can’t handle it.”
Mana surged through the circuits, overloading the artificial muscles.
The shape-memory alloy began to burn and blacken, smoke rising as the armor creaked and groaned. Then, with a hiss, the muscles melted, and the Black Iron collapsed into pieces.
”I guess I’ll have to redesign the muscle system,” I sighed.
”You knew this would happen, didn’t you?” the mayor said sharply as I bent down to gather the wreckage.
”Of course I did. I built it, after all. I knew both the Egg’s mana output and the muscles’ limits—but I needed to see it fail for myself.”
I had a few ideas for new artificial muscles, but the materials were hard to get. I estimated that one special component per five hundred grams of mithril would work, but I hadn’t fought any strong enough monsters lately.
The ones that dropped it lived deeper in the dungeons. Using substitutes might cause trouble, so for now, progress would be slow.
”So, do you have a plan for new muscles?” the mayor asked.
”No samples yet, but I’ve got theory and predictions.”
”Let’s hear them.”
”Existence sublimation of mithril—or adamantite—through a Soul Core. My bet’s on mithril.”
From handling both mithril and orichalcum before, I’d noticed their internal patterns felt a lot like shape-memory alloys.
”You want to sublimate mithril itself?” the mayor said, half in disbelief.
”The problem,” I replied, “is the mana it would take.”
”Master,” Dahlia asked, “can’t you strengthen it like demonsteel?”
”Not with regular Mana Stones. I’d need mana as strong and dense as a Soul Core’s output. And right now…”
”It would have to be the Egg,” she said.
”Exactly. And that’s the bottleneck.”
”Then shall I go hunt a lich or two?” Dahlia offered.
”Not likely. Without Tatia around, running into one is rare.”
Truth be told, the levitation stones I used for Kareha’s shield could have been used to make four new Mana Stones if I combined them with spares—but I couldn’t let the mayor know.
She’d just raise the shield’s price again. Though, since Dahlia had mentioned it so quickly, maybe she already knew.
”Oh my,” Kareha said, tilting her head. “Tatara, do you need Soul Cores?”
We all turned toward her as she reached into her inventory and pulled out several glowing orbs.
”I picked these up back in my wilder days,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “Soul Cores from angels and demons. How much would you buy them for?”
Calmys stared at her, half in shock. “Wait—these are the ones from that story, where you ripped the cores out yourself?”
What in the world had Sister Kareha done in her past? The kind, motherly woman before me suddenly seemed like someone I should probably never call “Mother” again.
”…Tatara, I’ll fund your research,” the mayor said firmly. “Take it.”
”But—”
”No buts. Show me the sublimation of Magic Metal with my own eyes.”
I looked up, ready to refuse, but her pupils were wide, her gaze sharp and gleaming like polished glass. I couldn’t say no to that.
It was… terrifying.
”…Yes, ma’am.”
I accepted the bundle of Soul Cores from Sister Kareha—more than twenty, mixed in type—and set them on the workbench.
Then I pulled out half a kilo of mithril from my inventory. For each 500 grams, I paired one Soul Core and began channeling mana into the metal, the same way I had done when creating demonsteel.
As expected, the mana paths inside mithril were already active, making control difficult.
But after all my experience with demonsteel and shape-memory alloys—and with my refined control boosted by Mana Boost and Magic Attack Increase—I guided the energy through with care. Ten minutes later, when I opened my eyes, the lump of mithril was glowing with a pure, sacred light.
I tried an Appraisal.
No data returned. That meant it had worked.
”…Even seeing it with my own eyes, I can hardly believe it,” the mayor murmured. Kareha just stared, puzzled, silently glancing between us.
”First demonsteel, and now mithril,” the mayor said with a sigh. “I suppose that makes you the next Chief Crafter. What do you plan to call this one?”
”Well, it’s giving off a holy sort of glow, so… maybe Saint Mithril?”
The moment I said it, I felt the familiar pulse of connection. When I checked again, the mithril was indeed registered as Saint Mithril.
”So,” the mayor asked, “how exactly has it changed?”
”From what I can tell,” I explained, “it’s like a shape-memory alloy. The mana pathways inside are extremely fine and oddly arranged—really hard to channel through. But if you align them properly, you get this result. As for the light… I’ll need to test more to know why.”
She jotted down my explanation quickly.
Dahlia, meanwhile, had already started typing up a full report like some sort of professional assistant. She was unexpectedly good at this.
”I think the Soul Core you just used came from an angel,” I said.
”That seems likely,” the mayor replied. “Let’s try a Soul Core from a demon next.”
I followed her direction, pulling out a smaller, darker Soul Core from my collection—one belonging to a lesser demon.
Applying what I’d learned, I carefully began the sublimation process again. This time, it took only eight minutes, and the result was a mithril ingot that shimmered with shadow.
”Whoa… this one’s completely different.”
”Indeed,” the mayor said, fascinated. “In that case, let’s call it Evil Mithril.”
I felt that familiar click in my mind again. When I looked at her with a grin, she had the exact expression of someone realizing they’d walked right into it.
”Thank you for the name,” I said cheerfully. “Saves me the trouble.”
”You say that with such shameless ease,” she sighed.
Naming things is exhausting. One child—Dahlia—is enough of that kind of work.
”Master,” Dahlia asked, “what would happen if we used the Egg?”
”I can’t right now. I only have one left. But if it worked like before, the result would probably be a neutral enhancement—something like High Mithril.”
”I see,” she said. “So you’ve already thought of the name.”
”…Wait, what?”
The mayor was smiling at me again—bright, relentless, and far too knowing.
So this was payback for before. It was brutally effective.
”But it’s strange,” she added. “This Saint Mithril gives off such a holy feeling, yet it doesn’t actually have the Holy attribute.”
Now that she said it, I realized she was right.
Neither the Saint Mithril nor the Evil Mithril had any attribute assigned. Then what truly separated the two?
”Master,” Dahlia said, her eyes shining, “instead of worrying about that, let’s mass-produce more and forge your armor! Once you finish my Arcane Armor using this technique, even if a Demon Lord attacks this city, I’ll drive them away myself.”
”She actually sounds like she could pull that off…” I muttered.
Even now, her combat stats were strong enough to take down a dragon solo. If we ever completed Gladiolus, she might really stand against a Demon Lord.
”For now,” I said, “let’s use all these Soul Cores to strengthen mithril. Making a regular Arcane Armor feels… off.”
”Off?” Calmys frowned. “You’ve never even made one before.”
True, but she of all people should know why.
Everything I build ends up… special.
After checking the numbers, the Soul Cores Kareha sold to the mayor totaled twenty-three. From them, I produced about 7.5 kilograms of Saint Mithril and 4 kilograms of Evil Mithril—roughly 11.5 kilograms in all.
I channeled mana through the lot, rearranging the internal structures into delicate silver threads like shape-memory alloys. Then I twisted and paired them evenly into double helices, forming flexible strands to line the arm and leg joints.
It wasn’t enough. To make a full inner-muscle armor like Tatia’s aura suit, I’d need at least half my body weight in material.
This batch couldn’t even cover Dahlia’s needs, let alone Tatia’s. For now, a prototype using my Black Iron armor’s artificial muscles would have to do.
When I started salvaging pieces from the broken Black Iron, Dahlia stopped me.
”Demonsteel is strong,” she said, “but it won’t be enough for the deeper floors ahead. You should reforge the inner lining with mithril to raise its base defense.”
”…You just want to see me do it, don’t you?”
”Yes!” she said brightly.
The mayor chuckled.
”I like her energy. Tatara, get to work.”
”…No escape, huh.”
Under orders, I peeled off the demonsteel from the Black Iron’s surface. Somehow, my workload kept growing.
Back at the forge, I shaped mithril sheets to match the armor’s frame, then pressed them beneath the demonsteel layer. Forging a honeycomb structure wasn’t possible, so I inserted a thin layer of slime material between them to absorb impact. It should dull heavy blows like a real honeycomb buffer—though it would make maintenance a pain.
Using the forged mithril, I began crafting the internal skeleton. Once all the parts were ready, I brought them back to the workshop and fixed them onto the Arcane Armor hanger.
I assembled the frame piece by piece, layering the new artificial muscles along the structure and embedding strengthening spell formulas directly into the mithril at the elemental level. Then I covered the body with protective cloth made from mithril silver thread and added the armor plating. Its defense was flawless.
But this time, the armor wasn’t just for protection—it had power. I mounted shoulder units equipped with missile pods, the same type I’d once built for the artillery project. Each projectile was a micro-missile filled with liquefied Mana Stone, something I’d shown Dahlia before.
Into the remodeled backplate, I installed a modular block that held the Egg. When the mana began to flow through the circuits, the armor’s frame and artificial muscles lit up in a soft glow. No smoke, no melting. The experiment had worked.
”…This rivals the ancient Arcane Armors themselves,” the mayor said, awe in her voice.
”If Dahlia’s right, it only loses in material quality,” I replied. “So—Tatara Julon–type Arcane Armor, Black Iron series, latest model. Let’s call it Genbu.”
Yohira and Hinagiku would probably complain about such a grand name, but I decided on it anyway. My little assistant believed my work was the best—this was how I’d honor that faith.
A familiar pulse ran through me.
The name took hold. I activated Appraisal.
Arcane Armor ‘Genbu’
HP +100
Mana 0
Skill Power 0
Physical Attack +30
Physical Defense +40
Magic Attack 0
Magic Defense +60
Speed +25
Movement +2
Special Abilities: Artillery, Magic Bombardment, Self-Regeneration
Magic Bombardment: Mana Cost 2–100 | Power = Mana / 2
It was absurdly powerful. Physical defense was slightly below Adamantite grade, and it lacked magic attack power, but every other stat outclassed Reinforce.
Artillery allowed both single-target and area suppression modes, while Magic Bombardment used the same theory as the Arcane Gun to fire mana bullets. Self-Regeneration would let the armor repair itself over time. Honestly, this thing’s performance was insane.
”…At this point, the only reason to study ancient technology is for historical context,” the mayor muttered.
”Not quite,” I said. “We still need to analyze the artillery system and figure out how to boost magic attack power. There’s still room to improve.”
”Tatara, this is already the strongest crafted Arcane Armor I’ve ever seen,” she said, sounding exasperated.
Maybe, but I wasn’t satisfied. The Genbu was built for ground combat—nothing revolutionary compared to flight models like Sarsium. Tomorrow, I’d join the exploration team again to collect more Mana Stones.
I also needed to design a mask-type magic device for descending past the 35th floor and prepare for the 40th-floor boss fight. The deeper floors would push even Ethelena and Tatia to level up faster. And if I had time, I wanted to make a flamethrower too—something that could deal with the zombie hordes we’d soon face.
Just thinking about it made my heart race. I was already reaching for more mithril when—
”…Tatara! Stop right there—no, stop! Calmys, help me!”
”Y-Yes, ma’am!”
Both the mayor and Calmys grabbed me at once, stopping me mid-motion. I didn’t quite understand why.
”Oh, this must be what they call a miracle,” Dahlia began dreamily. “Not only does he sublimate ordinary metals into magic metals, he raises even those to a higher level! And to think he’s created a power-driven armor that surpasses all predecessors with nothing but skill! Strong mithril artificial muscles, a full mithril-forged skeleton turning the body into a living mana conduit! If perfected, it could generate mana blades, adapt to any situation—yes, mass-produce this, master! Let us create a new line of Automaton Maidens—by impregnating me, you could—”
A sharp thud!
cut her off. Sister Kareha’s fist had struck the back of her head.
”Oh my, I’m so sorry, Dahlia,” Kareha said calmly. “There was a bug. I just tried to swat it.”
Sure. That “bug” had nothing to do with it.
Even so, knocking Dahlia silent through her defenses? What kind of strength did that take—and with bare hands, no less?
”Haa… haa… Tatara,” the mayor panted. “Calm down and tell me—what exactly were you about to make?”
”Ah, right. A flamethrower,” I said. “To deal with the zombies past the thirty-fifth floor. It’d even work on the fortieth-floor boss.”
”Burning zombies is fine in theory,” she said slowly, “but the scale you’re planning is not.”
”It would also help against dryads in deeper layers,” I added helpfully.
”You’re planning to burn down an entire forest, aren’t you?”
Calmys groaned, rubbing her temples.
”This is… beyond overkill.”
”Show me the blueprint,” the mayor demanded. “I’ll decide if it’s even remotely acceptable.”
”Of course. Here.”
I unfolded the design for the Melfrath Spintail—a flamethrower powered by liquefied Mana Stone fuel. Compact, deadly, and with more than enough firepower.
The mayor read the specs, began to tremble, and then—without warning—lunged and grabbed my throat.
”You’re planning to burn the entire dungeon! The city with it!?” she roared.
”C—can’t… breathe…”
Her grip was iron. I couldn’t even get air in.
”My lady, please!” Calmys cried. “I understand how you feel, but you must stop!”
You understand how she feels? That’s not reassuring.
Calmys finally managed to pry her off me, and I gasped for air. I’d honestly thought I was going to die.
”Tatara,” the mayor said, glaring. “You actually thought of burning dryads with that thing?”
”…You mean that seriously?”
”Completely. This is way beyond reason,” Calmys said. “The dryads’ Mana Stones would react and explode!”
”…Yeah, that’s… not funny.”
When Tatia first dove into the dungeon, she accidentally crushed a goblin’s Mana Stone and blew it up right in front of her. Even a small one could cause serious injuries if it exploded nearby.
If something that size went off across an entire forest full of Mana Stones… yeah, that could easily take out half the city.
In reality, a full detonation like that would only happen if an entire floor were made of Mana Stones, but that’s something only I’d know thanks to memories from my past life.
Either way, I decided to drop the flamethrower idea. No point making everyone even more nervous—my inventions already gave them enough anxiety as it was.
”By the way, Julon,” the mayor said, breaking my thoughts.
”Yes?”
”If we reforged Fiero using that enhanced mithril, how much would it cost?”
Oh no. That sounded like the beginning of another dangerous request.
”Well,” Calmys said, grinning, “I could always have you forge me a new one instead. Maybe dual-wielding Fieros would be fun.”
What is wrong with you?
”Please don’t. Just watching that would be a nightmare.”
Was she still fired up from that kaiju-level brawl with Sister Kareha?
When I glanced at the mayor, her expression was exactly like an older brother realizing his genius sibling had just said something monumentally stupid. Honestly, I felt the same.
And worse, it was the mayor who’d have to cover the cost. Having me craft a weapon for Calmys—who was already protecting me—felt…
dangerous. Depending on the customs of her war god faith, it might even count as a marriage proposal. Yeah, that was a minefield I didn’t want to step on.
Not to mention, the mayor had already bought twenty-three Soul Cores for research funding.
Even without knowing the market value, that had to be worth hundreds of millions. Now imagine adding an untested, high-tier weapon to that bill—I’d lose my mind too.
”Um, Calmys,” I asked cautiously, “if I did make it… who’s paying for it?”
”Of course, I would,” she said confidently. “From my own savings.”
Oh, good.
At least she intended to pay. Though I wasn’t sure she knew what she was in for.
The mayor began to move—slowly, almost ghostlike—closing in on Calmys.
”Uh, Madam Mayor…?”
”Calmys,” she said in a low, deadly tone, “listen carefully.”
”Y-yes?”
”Even if you used all your savings and materials, it still wouldn’t be enough.”
”…What?”
”The salary you’ve earned—and whatever you saved while in the church—won’t even come close to paying for a weapon made with this technology.”
The air itself seemed to tighten. The mayor’s presence radiated fury like heat from a forge.
Yeah, she was mad. Really mad.
”M-my lady…?” Calmys managed to whisper.
”Just a rough estimate puts it in the high billions,” the mayor said coldly. “Even bringing your own materials wouldn’t change that.”
”T-that’s…”
”If anything, it could hit triple digits in the billions. Could you cover that?”
”I… I could sell my orichalcum or adamantite—”
”Tatara would rather use those,” she snapped. “The bottleneck here is the Soul Cores.”
From Calmys’s fighting style, the sword’s body would need mithril—specifically Saint Mithril. Maybe even some orichalcum sublimated like before. Judging by Kerav’s build, that’d be one kilogram of mithril per two hundred grams of orichalcum, plus three angelic Soul Cores.
Heavy materials for one weapon. If we wanted to make it stable, we’d need a Soul Core—or an Egg—as the main driver. With that level of complexity, yeah… triple-digit billions sounded about right.
My brain was starting to fry from the math. Someone please save me.
”Tatara,” Kareha said softly, “are you all right?”
”My head hurts, Mom. Badly.”
”Then you should sit and rest for a bit.”
”Yeah… I think I will.”
Her gentle tone helped me finally relax a little.
I’d heard that crafting work often moved huge sums of money, but this felt like skipping the mid-boss and running straight into the final one. I wanted to call Torakuma right now just to see her struggling with demonsteel orders—it would make me feel sane again.
”…Sister Kareha,” I said weakly, “maybe next time you don’t have to ‘chase bugs’ with that much force.”
”Oh dear, sorry. I got carried away.”
I could practically see the image of her doing this all the time—smacking the original hero every time he said something pervy.
I’d rather not find out what a punch from a former paladin feels like. Getting patted on the head was plenty.
”Dahlia,” I said, “sorry to interrupt your concussion, but I need your help.”
”Yes, my Master,” she said proudly. “Even if I must cross mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, I shall fulfill your will.”
”Yeah, maybe tone that down a bit,” I muttered. Behind her, Kareha silently raised her fist again.
”I’ll be returning to dungeon exploration tomorrow,” I continued. “I need to gather large Mana Stones from liches. I’ll need your firepower for that.”
”Yes, my Master.”
She bowed gracefully, and I reached out to pat her head. Her eyes widened, then softened into a quiet smile.
Seems this gentler kind of head-pat worked better than with the foolish fox. I’d keep that in mind.
”Master,” Dahlia asked, “may I ask your reason for strengthening the exploration team?”
”Mainly to upgrade your power,” I said. “With the new artificial muscle tech, I can finally build your own Arcane Armor.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
The high-end model I’d planned for her—Gladiolus—was already mapped out. All that was left was fine-tuning it to suit her.
”However,” I added, “there’s one problem.”
”What is it?”
”We don’t have enough orichalcum. Mining becomes possible around the forty-first floor, but it’s not guaranteed. That means your armor might not reach full performance at first. You’ll need to be ready for that.”
”Yes, my Master.”
She nodded without hesitation.
I smiled back and opened the word processor, pulling up the Gladiolus blueprint. I made a copy and began explaining what I’d simplify and modify: adding a deployable shield system based on Kareha’s design, replacing the jet engine with an Egg-driven wind-magic booster, and forging all armor plates from mithril until we could acquire adamantite.
We discussed the details together—what to add, what to cut. Dahlia liked the idea of forearm holders and requested a rear weapon rack.
I agreed. The only thing she asked to remove was the artillery system. She said her existing magic devices already gave her more than enough versatility.
Honestly? She was right.
”Master, why can’t you understand my romance!?”
”Your life isn’t as cheap as your romance!”
”My lady, why don’t you understand that this weapon is necessary!?”
”Necessary is fine, but your savings are desperately insufficient! If you plan to stiff me on the technical fee and extort a sword from Tatara, I won’t show any mercy!”
And so, the pointless argument continued until Yohira and the others returned.
—
Bonus:
”Um, Kareha-san?”
”Oh, Edel. Is something wrong?”
”No, I was just checking who was planning to eat dinner tonight. It seems… unlikely.”
”I don’t think City Mayor and Calmys-sama will be eating, but you’re right. Oh, and you don’t need to prepare a portion for me.”
”Yes, understood. Steamed dishes are something only Tatara can make well, so I was hoping he’d help…”
”It’s just the three girls and one boy, but they’re arguing like it’s a debate about what boys like.”
”…We can’t even say ‘boys are silly’ in this situation.”
”Actually, he’s being the most rational one, denying Dahlia.”
Notes:
• Dahlia – The automaton.
• Kareha – A human paladin and nun appearing in ch.71. She requests new weapons from Tatara after past battles damaged hers. The order sends her under church duty. Works with Tatara and Dahlia as ally. Close to Ranka. Strong, polite, and fearless.
• Ranka – A nun called Sister Ranka as a big eater under Kareha’s church. Her appetite strains church funds, prompting Tatara’s donations. Works with Kareha. No family noted. Jovial and carefree.
• 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.
• 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.
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Edel – Maid appearing after the Genbu armor’s creation scene during the evening at Tatara’s residence. She checks dinner plans while observing Kareha and the mayor’s argument caused by Tatara’s dangerous inventions and Calmys’s weapon request. She serves under Tatara, handling household duties. No known direct relationships beyond that. Known for her polite, level-headed composure.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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