I dismantled the old weapons I had gathered from forges all over the city, one by one.
I took apart the hilt of the longsword.
I smashed the wooden shaft of the halberd with a hammer.
I extracted only the spearhead from the pike.
As for the kukri, whose hilt was also made of metal, I dissolved and stripped off the leather wrapping on its handle with chemicals.
Finally, I cleanly removed only the blades from a pair of exquisite daggers.
This time, I planned to make everything—from the hilt to the pommel and crossguard—from a single piece of steel, so it would be heavier than usual and less practical... But the power of the [Greatsword of the Firelinking Rite] was not meant for swinging in the first place.
Of all the [fantasies] I would create, this was the only weapon wholly focused on magical ability. It was practically a staff of sorts.
Under normal circumstances, though, it would have been impossible for me to make a weapon whose capabilities leaned toward magic. I did not possess an aptitude for magic.
I was merely balancing those scales by raising its rank through the legacy of the goddess of the forge, [First Fire Keeper], and the material that was her Arcanum, [Bonfire's Essence].
With this, the materials, legacy, and form were all in place. The form did not matter, since I intended to follow the appearance I remembered exactly. That left only the issue of raising the weapon's own rank. Judging by that rank, it would need to be at least First Tier.
"Whew... Let's begin."
I carefully placed the dismantled weapons into a large crucible, one at a time. Like a game of Tetris, I cautiously fitted them in while considering the size of each piece.
At the very bottom went the spearhead, which took up the least space.
Then I laid the dagger blades neatly on top.
After standing the halberd's axe blade upright, barely filling the crucible,
I propped the longsword blade diagonally in the empty space beside it,
and finally stood the kukri upright in the open space on the other side.
I hugged the crucible, which was about as wide as my chest, lifted it, and slowly placed it into the furnace.
"Lady Hestia, please use your Arcanum to bring it to... just short of maximum heat output."
"Very well! Behold my skill at heating a forge!"
Chongyun...?
No, no. Anyway, her skill with fire really was incredible. She seemed to work the bellows lightly, without exerting much effort at all, yet flames began to surge inside in an instant.
I could see the heat rising as the fire gradually climbed through the coal and firestones packed inside. And though I normally would not have noticed it, I could feel a slightly alien presence mixed in—a presence that was not unpleasant, but rather refreshing.
...Considering it felt similar to when a god dripped divine blood onto your back and bestowed a Falna, this must be Arcanum.
How long had I kept the fire going and waited?
The halberd's axe blade, which had been glowing red, slowly began to melt.
Since it was the hardest material, once that had completely melted, the rest would have melted as well.
Watching the axe blade, which had looked so unyieldingly hard, gradually melt and turn soft was always a fascinating sight, no matter how often I saw it.
Who could have known that the body which had displayed its hardness by sharpening its edge against monsters of the upper floors would melt away helplessly—not in the Dungeon, not even on a battlefield, but in the furnace of an ordinary forge aboveground?
But do not weep. Even that sorrow would become a foundation for a great weapon.
Once everything had melted down into nothing more than a pool of molten steel, I removed the crucible, plunged my arm straight into it, and stirred it once to check for any unmelted pieces.
Hmm... It had all definitely melted.
"Y-you...! Take your hand out! What in the world are you doing?!"
"Hmm? Is there a problem?"
"If plunging your arm into boiling molten metal is not a problem, then what the hell is?!"
"Ah, it's fine. Look at this."
Seeing Lady Hestia make such a fuss over my arm because she did not know about my Skill, I pulled my arm from the molten steel, carefully shook off the metal, and showed her my perfectly unharmed arm.
"What...?"
"Because of my Skill, I am nearly immune to damage caused by flame or heat. I've been able to stick my arm into molten metal like this since Level 1."
"I-I see..."
Leaving Lady Hestia standing there in a daze, I lifted the crucible and poured the molten steel into a mold. There was no special pattern to it. I was simply making a heavy, sturdy iron bar roughly 120 centimeters long and 6 centimeters in diameter.
Then, through hammering, twisting, and heating it again, the [Greatsword of the Firelinking Rite] would be born.
"While the molten steel solidifies, please keep the furnace burning by feeding in a little Arcanum at a time, as long as it does not strain you."
"Mm, all right."
How much time passed? When I lightly tapped the mold, it made a sound that suggested the metal inside had fully solidified.
When I carefully opened the mold, there was nothing remarkable inside—just a crude iron bar.
It was a crude iron bar now, but if one considered the form it would take in the future, no one would be able to call it crude.
"I'll heat it again. Please prepare the furnace."
"Is it starting now?"
Perhaps she had sensed something, because Lady Hestia suddenly spoke.
"...Yes. The bonfire's journey begins now."
With those words, I pushed the iron bar straight into the furnace.
She must have raised the flames to maximum output, because it heated up in an instant. I gripped the portion that would become the hilt with my hand and slowly poured [fantasy] into the heating iron bar. As the Arcanum rising from within the flames seeped into the bar and came into contact with the fantasy, it felt as though a static reaction were occurring.
Crackle, crackle...!
No, I could actually see red static sparking intermittently inside the furnace. Fortunately, the rejection was not too intense. It gradually subsided, and by the time I took it out, the two had completely assimilated, with no resistance left between them.
I took out the fully heated bar, placed it on the anvil—I had brought it to an anvil some distance away so sparks would not fly onto Lady Hestia—and, with [Smithing] wrapped around my hammer, brought it down with all my strength.
Clang!
Normally, metal heated to its limit should not have much recoil. Yet the recoil I felt this time seemed comparable to the resistance I had felt when hammering adamantite.
Even though my Level, techniques, and experience had grown immensely since then, feeling resistance on that same level meant I still had a long way to go. The Arcanum and [fantasy] must have fused to make this something even more difficult to handle, but...
If I were going to stop over something like this, I would never have picked up a hammer in the first place!
Ignoring the recoil, I swung the hammer blazing red once more.
I swung it,
and swung it,
and kept swinging.
Whenever it seemed the heat had faded, I put it into the oil barrel to quench it, then returned it to the furnace and heated it again.
How many times did I repeat that process of heating, hammering, and cooling?
Before I knew it, my usual hammer had been unable to withstand the recoil created by the three forces of Arcanum, [fantasy], and [Smithing], and had broken. I took out a new hammer, ignited the red flames of [Smithing] around it again, and continued to swing.
The bar that had once been 120 centimeters long had taken the shape of a blade on one end and stretched to roughly 150 centimeters. Even after quenching, an odd red aura still swirled from within the blade.
When I finished the first stage and came back to my senses, Lady Hestia was utterly exhausted. We had clearly begun forging just after lunchtime, yet the sun was already vanishing beneath the city walls.
"Today's work is finished. Are you all right, Lady Hestia?"
"I'm not all right... I'm so, so hungry..."
"...I'll buy you a meal. Come with me."
"I can't walk... Carry me...!"
"What are you saying? That would be improper."
"...What do you mean?"
"What kind of view do you think someone behind you would get if you wore a miniskirt that tiny and had me carry you on my back?"
"...(Flush). I'll just walk..."
In the original story, she would let Bell carry her on his back anywhere without realizing such things, but if I went this far, she would surely think about it at least once later on.
I took her to the Hostess of Fertility and bought her the day's special.
She must have been very hungry, because she ate with truly hearty gusto.
Eat plenty and work hard...
Flinch.
Perhaps she sensed something, because she shuddered and gave me a slight glare. When I lightly shook my coin purse at her, her eyes lit up.
"Honestly, are you trying to seduce a goddess now?"
"No, Mother, what are you talking about? Who do you think I am to seduce anyone? She's helping me with my work, so I'm providing her food and lodging."
"Hmph. If you say so. More importantly, when are you going to show me a grandchild?"
"...Probably never? I have no intention of dating..."
"What about my girls?"
"Eh... Most of them are stronger than me or older than me. At the very least, my type is someone weaker than I am..."
"Meow? Is Brother Smith an S, meow?"
"Hey! Don't say weird things, Chloe. I just want someone I can protect. I may be a big guy, but I can't exactly let my girlfriend protect me instead of protecting her, can I?"
This was Chloe Rolo, a Level 4 adventurer and assassin who had come to the Hostess of Fertility several years ago after accepting a request to assassinate Ryu, only to get utterly beaten down by the Kaguya-and-Ryu duo. There was also Lunoa Faust, but she did not seem to think much of me.
No, but...
"Why do you call me Brother?"
"?"
"You're stronger than me and older than me, aren't you?"
"I may be stronger, but I'm still younger than Brother Smith, meow!"
"Huh."
"...Explain what that 'huh' means, meow."
"...Mother Mia, one more plate of spaghetti here!"
"Well, you've been one of Mother Mia's children here longer than I have, and you're older too, so I call you Brother, meow."
"Right, right..."
Honestly, it felt a little... awkward for someone much stronger than me to call me Brother.
Normally, the difference in strength was practically the difference in status... But since I was Mother Mia's only son, and I had been a son for quite a long time, it felt like they treated me as the eldest.
Anyway, sometimes even Ryu or Kaguya would call me Brother... Man, that gave me chills.
After filling Goddess Hestia's stomach, I was about to return to the forge, but Lady Hestia was apparently too tired. She said she was going straight to rest and that we should do the rest tomorrow, so I had no choice but to postpone the remaining work until then.
Tomorrow... the flames would rise again.
[That ash seeketh embers.]
I might not be ash, but I too yearned for fading embers.
There was a furnace here,
and a fire keeper,
and greed enough to consume it all.
Embers, come here.