Opportunity
Opportunity
"What a headache-inducing shape."
The first words that came out of Mr. Balkun's mouth as he looked over the rough sketch I'd done on a scrap of paper inside the forge carried a distinctly unimpressed tone.
"You were thinking of something like this and yet you came looking for a dagger?"
"Because I hadn't considered the luxury of custom work."
Custom-made was expensive in this other world too, and the dagger I'd originally planned to buy this time was a thoroughly expendable item. I couldn't inject enough Magic Power into it to increase its cutting power, but I'd intended to purchase something that could at least be made to fly around without touching it, and use that.
But if custom work was possible, there was no need for it to be a dagger.
"It looks just like a narwhal's horn."
The design that came out that way was simply a large needle. Not an ordinary needle, but a needle twisted like a drill.
Mr. Balkun, who had been studying the picture I'd drawn—about the length of my palm and the thickness of my index finger—stroked his chin beard and continued.
"Hmm. A drill. It's true that the foundation for increasing the power of fireball magic lies in rotational force. Were you thinking of using the repulsive force that occurs when trying to inject aura into a tool to make it rotate? That's a brilliant idea. But it won't be easy to use."
To deduce that far and grasp its purpose the moment he saw it. But I didn't know how to use aura, so I only just now learned that such repulsive force exists. Now I finally understood why there's no such thing as sword aura in this world.
I'd intended to hand-wave it by saying I planned to experiment with other magic tools, so it was a relief that an excuse had come up.
"Nothing in the world is easy. Repetition is the answer."
"That's a very good mindset. You humans have short lifespans, so you easily overlook that truth."
Mr. Balkun nodded deeply, scribbled a few more characters on the drawing, and flicked the abacus next to him. At first I thought he was pricing it out, but seeing him write the calculation results over my roughly drawn sketch and turn it into a blueprint, it seemed to be for an entirely different purpose.
"At this point, it won't be any particular trouble. If I adjust the weight for easier throwing, the shape will change a little. Though at most, some part of this groove will get a bit more convex, so you won't even notice."
"About how many do you think can be made?"
"If I tailor it to your request, I'd say around five will come out. If I make them a bit thinner, I could manage up to ten. What will it be?"
"The thickness was chosen with durability in mind—will it be alright?"
"Given the material, even if it's a bit thinner, it can block a sword swung with average force without any problem. A heavier one would be more lethal, but if you can use aura to imbue rotational force as you envisioned, you'll also be able to apply it as propulsion. At that point, it'll be no different from an arrow you throw by hand, so there's no reason to be fixated on weight."
As I listened to Mr. Balkun's calm explanation, a question arose.
To be able to block a swung sword even with a thickness thinner than my finger... no matter how I looked at it, wasn't this a material that couldn't possibly be sold for just one gold coin? Why on earth was it sitting unsold and stashed away before falling into my hands at such a dirt-cheap price?
"If it's that good, isn't it incredibly excellent? Yet it seems to be treated like dead stock..."
If this truly was the proper price, most swordsmen would pay a premium to get a sword like mine. Mr. Balkun had said it was simply extremely sturdy, but from the perspective of someone who had already used it, it was nothing more than excessive undervaluation.
When I looked at this sword, which hadn't even lost a single tooth after that whole ruckus at the Envelde mansion, I couldn't help but think that. But Mr. Balkun's actual answer was so bland it was almost simple and succinct.
"That sword—enchantments don't work on it."
He shrugged his shoulders as if that explained everything, but from my standpoint, it was hard to accept just with that.
"Have you ever seen the weapons the Demonfolk uses?"
Having noticed what was on my mind, he pulled out his pipe, filled it with an appropriate amount of tobacco, and set the mood as if he was about to continue his explanation. The only thing that came to mind immediately was the sword I'd snatched and used in the abandoned dungeon, but since that officially never happened, I shook my head and answered.
"I don't think I've seen anything you could really call a weapon of theirs."
"Well, you wouldn't have had much contact, and the front lines have been maintained all along, so that's only natural. You know they use Magic Power, not Mana or aura, right? Because of that, the ones on the strong side can easily beat people around the level of aura experts, and the scale of the magic their mages deploy is terrifying. But everything in the land where they're born and raised is ultimately equal under the grace of the Earth Mother God, so it's not as sturdy as they are. What do you think happens if you grant that strong Magic Power to ordinary equipment?"
"...I'd imagine it gets wrecked."
I knew because I'd experienced it firsthand, but Mr. Balkun, unaware of that background, merely nodded and said, 'You're quick on the uptake.'
"It can only hold up if it's something made by those you can truly call masters; otherwise, its lifespan gets cut short. So the alloy they developed is called Magic-Armament Alloy. Wait just a moment."
He lit his pipe with magic and went into something like a storeroom. What Mr. Balkun brought out was a lump of metal similar in color to my sword, but it quivered like mercury.
"This is it. There's nothing you'd call especially special about it. 'It can withstand the strain Magic Power imposes.' That's about the extent of its trait. The process is too technical for me to explain easily... but if I had to express it, it feels like metal that was raised on Magic Power."
"I always feel this way, but your explanations really hit home."
"Do they? Our apprentices always gave pretty vague reactions. Anyway, it didn't take long after we fed it Magic Power, magically engineered it, and alchemically processed it to realize that an incredibly sturdy product came out. The problem was, this damn metal—maybe its tastes got too refined, I don't know—doesn't react to Mana at all. Aura, too, if you try to inject it like other metals, it repels like magnets of the same pole clashing."
"So with magic used by humans..."
"...you can't enchant it. It became something only races that use Magic Power, like Demonfolk or the Dragon Race, can properly utilize. Because of that, we can't even make this Magic-Armament Alloy in the first place, so if you really want to do something with it, the best you can manage is melting down and recycling the weapons of Demonfolk recovered from the battlefield."
In short, they'd gone out of their way to obtain it to test its potential as a weapon, since its durability was second to none, but in the end, it couldn't become anything more than an item that was simply sturdy.
So a weapon this ridiculously perfect had fallen into my hands. It's clear that God truly exists.
"It's surprising anew that even such a material can be processed with dwarven alchemy."
"That's something for experts to discuss among themselves, but since it's a completely different domain, processing it isn't very difficult. If you were nurturing a blacksmith's dream, I'd be happy to explain as much as you like, but if not, it's just useless trivia that will only make your head complicated and you'll never use in your life."
Having had to rot my brain over a single magic tome I'd recently read after being tricked by the lie that it was for beginners, I decided to respect Mr. Balkun's consideration.
After listening to various pieces of information about the Demonfolk and filling out the custom order form, I paid the price of one gold coin again this time. By the time I stepped outside, lunchtime was already approaching.
"Aside from meeting royalty, it's been a good start."
It was already a sword I liked, and now, for another single gold coin, I could receive items made from the same material by the same craftsman. It was a shopping experience so fulfilling it put overseas direct purchases to shame, and my mood lifted on its own.
"Then should I go see Zikmel this time?"
Setting aside showing gratitude, what loomed larger was my curiosity about the reaction of that guy, who had surely picked up the information that Envelde's head had flown off. I might get an earful from Asilie for not returning the moment I went out, but if I'd come outside anyway, shouldn't I handle as many things as possible to secure some leisure time?
Maintaining that excited heart and light gait, I left the dwarf district. Just as the crowd around me was starting to thin out, the carriage from earlier revealed itself once again.
"You don't know when to give up."
The fact that it appeared as if it had been waiting meant it wasn't a joke—it was clear they had been on standby until I came out. The slightly different thing from earlier was that the expression of the woman who served as both coachman and butler was not particularly good this time.
"Please, do—"
"For the sake of your master's honor, surely you weren't about to say something to convince me to get on this time? Ah, no way. It's not an official summons, and you're calling me secretly, so why would you care about honor? If that were the case, you'd openly reveal the name."
At my drawn-out, rambling explanation after cutting her off, the woman's brow furrowed a little more. Well, of course it would. Naturally, that's what she'd been about to say. It was obvious from the start that she was royalty, and I was showing this attitude, so from a servant's standpoint, it must have been quite unpleasant.
But that wasn't my problem.
The woman shut her mouth, and just as I was about to pass the carriage and go on my way again, the carriage door flung open, the curtain was pushed aside, and a blonde woman who clearly looked like a princess revealed herself. Unlike her gentle, youthful-looking face and eyes, her pupils alone held a very firm will, and she spoke to me with an attitude completely different from before.
"This time! Let's have a proper conversation!"
Fuuuuuck.
Why the hell did you have to come out yourself?
If I run after seeing your face, it'll become a crime of blasphemy.