The day after Bell obliterated the Infant Dragon, I found myself waiting alongside Welf for Bell to arrive.
Earlier, Lili had rushed over to inform us that the elderly gnome who owned her lodging had collapsed, and she needed to stay back to care for him. As a result, she wouldn't be joining us for today's dungeon exploration. After apologizing profusely, she had entrusted us with delivering the message to Bell.
Once Lili left, Welf and I discussed the plan for the day. If Bell agreed, we decided to use the time to upgrade his equipment. His light armor had already been replaced, but other pieces still needed attention. Preparing proper gear is critical, especially since we were gearing up for ventures into the Dungeon's "Middle Floors."
From my appraisal skills, I could confidently say Welf's craftsmanship was excellent, one of the best you could expect from a Level 1 smith.
While contemplating this, I spotted Bell's familiar white hair emerging from the western main street. Welf and I moved to meet him halfway.
"Oh, you actually showed up." Welf greeted casually.
"You're a bit late today. Did Syr hold you up or something?" I teased.
Bell, seemingly lost in thought, only noticed us when we were nearly upon him.
"Oh, good morning. Um… why are you both here?"
"Message from Lili." I explained."The old gnome landlord at her boarding house collapsed, so she's taking care of him. She won't be joining us today."
"What!? Is he okay?" Bell exclaimed.
"Now, about today's plans…" I trailed off, handing the conversation baton to Welf.
Catching on, Welf nodded.
"Bell, can I borrow you for the day?"
"Huh?"
…Bell, you might want to reconsider responding like that. It's hard to tell if you're questioning or agreeing.
"Remember? I promised to make you a full set of new gear." Welf reminded him.
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Welf led us to his workshop, located at the edge of the industrial district in the northeast. Each member of the Hephaestus Familia is provided their own workshop by the Familia, following Lady Hephaestus's philosophy.
The workshop was a single-story wooden building, its darkened timbers bearing the marks of age and use. Inside, it was spacious, with rows of tools that looked well-worn but meticulously maintained. The setup reminded me of visits to the Goibniu Familia, but here, each smith worked in solitude, a stark contrast to the communal forge atmosphere of Goibniu.
"Sorry for the mess. Bear with it for a while, okay?" Welf apologized.
"No, no, it's fine!" Bell replied hastily.
"Don't worry about it." I added, though inwardly I was eager to explore. Opportunities like this, to inspect a smith's personal tools and workspace, were rare for me.
While Bell and Welf discussed something in the background, I scanned the tools on display, marveling at their condition. Despite my affinity for appraising weapons, my crafting skills were amateurish at best. Polishing, for instance, was the only thing I could somewhat manage, and even that wasn't stellar.
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"Hey, Toki, what do you think?" Bell's voice broke my concentration.
"Huh? Sorry, I wasn't listening. What's up?"
"We're deciding on my new gear. Any thoughts on what I might need?"
Since Bell and I had similar combat styles, it wasn't surprising he'd ask for my input. Still, no immediate ideas came to mind.
While I mulled it over, Bell wandered over to a rack of weapons and picked up a large sword.
"What about this?" he asked.
"Looks solid. Well-crafted and should hold up for a while… Wait. Can you even use a greatsword?" I asked, skeptical.
"That's where you come in. You'll teach me, right?"
"…I'm not exactly a master myself, you know."
"But you're better than me!" Bell countered, turning to Welf."Can I use this?"
"Well, it's not like I'd say no." Welf said, though he seemed puzzled."That's a returned piece, a leftover from the shop."
"Even so, I want to try it." Bell said, smiling with childlike enthusiasm.
"You're not interested in magic swords, huh?" Welf commented suddenly.
"Huh?" Bell tilted his head in confusion.
"Most adventurers would clamor for a magic sword, not pick a leftover like that." Welf clarified.
"Well, Toki wouldn't ask for one either." Bell replied, gesturing to me.
"Why are you dragging me into this?"
Welf turned his gaze to me, amused. Sure, I wouldn't ask for a magic sword, but being roped into the conversation was entirely unnecessary.
"Well, just my personal opinion…"
"Hmm… this is just my personal take, but magic swords don't really feel like weapons to me."
"Huh?"
"Think about it. A magic sword might be shaped like a weapon and made by a blacksmith, but it
fires off magic and eventually breaks. To me, it's more like a magic item crafted by a smith than an actual weapon."
Magic swords were indeed powerful, unleashing spells like fire or lightning when swung. But they weren't as strong as genuine magic, and worse, they broke after repeated use, sometimes even after a single swing. To me, they were more akin to consumable items with limited charges than durable weapons.
Hearing this, Welf burst out laughing.
"Wait, did I say something weird?" I asked, genuinely puzzled.
"No, no." Welf chuckled, calming himself."It's just… that's an interesting way to look at it."
Apparently, I had passed some kind of test.
The conversation shifted back to Bell's equipment. Welf's eyes landed on the Minotaur Horn hanging at Bell's waist. It turned out Bell and Welf had an agreement: Bell could hand over materials like drop items, and Welf would forge them into weapons.
Mental note: I should negotiate something like that with Smithy next time.
Bell ended up staying to watch Welf work, and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked to observe as well. I'd never really had a chance to see a skilled blacksmith at work, and the unknown always piqued my interest.
Welf granted us both permission, so I settled in to watch. The workshop grew sweltering as the forge roared, and the sound of metal meeting metal echoed in the room. Though I considered excusing myself as an outsider, Welf insisted I stay.
It was during this time that Welf shared his story.
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The first generation of the Crozzo family once saved a spirit and was granted a part of its essence. That bloodline allowed the Crozzos to forge magic swords. But later generations abused this gift, mass-producing magic swords that the Kingdom of Rakia used to ravage nature. Spirits, known to dwell in places of natural beauty, grew furious at the destruction of their homes and retaliated. They shattered the Crozzo magic swords and stripped the family of their ability to create them.
The Crozzo family had risen to nobility thanks to their magic swords. Losing the ability to forge them led to their decline, and they became fallen aristocrats.
Yet Welf was born with the rare ability to forge magic swords. When his family discovered this, they demanded he revive their glory by creating them. Welf refused.
"I don't want to make those kinds of tools." Welf explained."A weapon is an extension of its wielder. It should never betray its user. Magic swords, which break and abandon their wielder, go against everything I believe in."
I understood his sentiment and could even empathize. But it seemed to me that Welf was also running away from his talent. Hating something and refusing to use it felt like denying his own potential. That's how it appeared to me.
I could see us getting along, but it was clear we wouldn't fully see eye to eye. As the rhythmic sound of hammering filled the air, these thoughts swirled in my mind.
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The dagger Welf eventually crafted was excellent, even to my untrained eye.
"Alright, let's give it a name." Welf said, narrowing his eyes at the crimson blade.
"'Ushiwakamaru'… no, wait… 'Minotantou Minotan!'"
"No, no, no, no, no! The first one was perfectly fine!" Bell protested.
I couldn't help but interject."No way. 'Minotantou Minotan' is clearly the better choice."
"Ehh!?" Bell looked flabbergasted.
"You get it, don't you?" Welf asked, turning to me.
"Absolutely. It's a fantastic name." I replied with a nod.
The two of us shook hands, united in our support for the name. Yeah, I take back what I said earlier. Welf and I might just get along perfectly.
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Seeing our exchange, Bell got a bad feeling. To confirm his suspicions, he asked cautiously,"Hey, Toki… that knife you always use… what's it called?"
"Oh, it doesn't have an official name, but I call it 'Kirimaru' in my head."
"K-Kirimaru?" Bell stammered.
"Yeah. This one's the eighth generation."
"Great name." Welf remarked.
"Thanks."
Incidentally, the blade the foreman made for me is called 'True Kirimaru,' and my Harpe is affectionately dubbed 'Harurun.'
As for the shop's name, 'The Lost Children of the Abyss,' that was something Asfi and the other Familia members came up with. My suggestions were all vetoed. Unjust.
Naming Lv. ?
Terrible. Just awful. But Welf and I see eye to eye.
In the end, Bell caved. After some pleading and a dramatic bow, we settled on "Ushiwakamaru" for the dagger's name.
…What's so wrong with "Minotantou Minotan"?
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