Quickening
Quickening
"You're taking it easy."
Thanks to Seneran, who had demonstrated a level of initiative that could only be described as a relentlessly forward unstoppable force of nature and dragged my teacher off to Ogwen, the biggest item on my daily schedule had suddenly been cleared. I rolled around in bed, greeting a late morning for the first time in a while. It was leisure enjoyed while petting Laika, who clung to me without fail, but maybe because I'd gotten so used to running around everywhere, it wasn't exactly comfortable.
I had no intention of lazing about all day anyway, so I kicked off the covers and got ready to go out. I'd already been soaking in leisure for four days since Seneran left, so I needed to move a bit today.
I hadn't been able to meet Shadow Foot, but I'd received a letter saying he'd gotten the message, procured the potions, and sent them by mail. Even though I had the Self-Destructing Saintess's Bead Potion, it wasn't something I could use freely—I had to gauge the severity of my wounds and use only small amounts. So it was very welcome news.
On top of that, today was also the day that some of the units on the front lines were supposed to return to the capital to take part in the Levien recapture operation. I'd made plans with Sheryl to watch their return together anyway, so after finishing my preparations a bit hastily, I downed a cup of Tie's coffee—something I was now all too familiar with—and left the house.
"Eldi...? Why are you taking the axe out?"
"Ah, I'm going to show it to Mr. Balkun and get some advice."
Asilie, who had been leisurely enjoying tea with Tie, responded to my answer with a look of disbelief. But she seemed to accept it when she saw I was wearing my work clothes rather than armor. It felt like I'd somehow ended up with a status similar to an unbridled colt, but since it was true that trouble always found me the moment I stepped outside, I accepted her suspicion with good grace and headed for the Dwarf District.
I'd thought about riding a horse, but it was obvious it would just become a hassle later when I was out with Sheryl. So I simply walked a bit faster. By the time I arrived, the Dwarf District was putting on a spectacle of heat pouring out from every direction, enough to make winter seem irrelevant.
One might think the Dwarf District would enter an off-season because adventurers were resting, but it was actually much busier because orders like repairs all came flooding in at once. It would be nice if they brought things in for regular maintenance, but the vast majority of adventurers had a bizarre belief that it was cheaper to use their gear to the absolute limit and then get everything repaired in one go rather than inspecting and maintaining it constantly. Thanks to that, this scene had never changed once the entire time I'd been in the capital.
And Mr. Balkun's workshop was no different. Now that we were acquainted, I gave a familiar greeting as I stepped inside and was frankly appalled to see a far larger volume of piled-up goods than the last time I'd visited.
Though the man himself, Mr. Balkun, seemed to find repairing items that were far too shoddy by his standards more painful than the actual workload.
"I didn't realize there were so many adventurers in the capital."
"A lot more than usual have crowded in because of the orcs. Thanks to that, I'm busy as hell every single day."
So the orc gate was the problem. I accepted this with a reasonable nod, and as we exchanged potions and payment, Mr. Balkun's gaze landed on the axe slung across my back. He asked with interest.
"Now that's an interesting weapon. Did you get it while adding to that latest heroic tale of yours?"
An interesting weapon? Was that just a dwarf getting excited at the sight of an axe? Come to think of it, it did seem like this was the first time I'd visited while carrying it. I nodded and showed it to him.
"Calling it a heroic tale is too generous. I took it from a bastard named Kakula the orcs called their great chieftain. They say a knight of Kelbast originally used it."
"Huh, sounds like that knight fellow had a bit to drink. But his skills must not have been much, getting it taken by an orc."
"Excuse me?"
When I questioned him at this unexpected reaction, Mr. Balkun burst into a hearty laugh and gestured for me to hand him the axe. I gave it to him without much thought, and he expertly detached the fitting at the end of the handle and showed me the inside.
With a natural ease as if he'd already known something was there, he revealed an inscription of some unknown characters.
"It's the dwarven language. It reads Magulaz Byureng. An artisan who focused more on enchantment-based works. Returned to the earth quite some time ago. Anyone in the know recognizes his work by the distinctive pattern he carved into the blade to prove it was his. Let's see... toughness and sharpness, and this is... a spell formula related to ownership rights. Fitting for someone who was faithful to the fundamentals."
So that was why it was so sturdy and felt so good in the hand?
I didn't know what exactly ownership had to do with a spell formula, but judging by how there was no problem using it right now and how Mr. Balkun dismissed it like it was nothing, it probably wasn't important.
"Does it also say what enchantments he put on it?"
"He was a bit... a lazy genius. Dwarves usually remember everything they did to items they're confident about, but this fellow wasn't like that. Instead, he carved his name and the features in places like this in case he ever had to repair it himself."
After firmly fitting the piece back on, Mr. Balkun inspected it this way and that, nodded with satisfaction, and moved to hand the axe back to me.
"Well, it was made by such a talented human, so there's no problem even after an orc used it."
"What you said about... him drinking?"
"Ah. He only gave finished works to people who beat him in drinking contests. Wahaha!"
What an astonishing fellow. I'd learned something interesting thanks to that, but I had a different purpose for showing him the axe today, so I didn't take it back right away.
"The thing is, I came because I want to add something to that axe."
"Add? I wouldn't really recommend it."
His reaction didn't seem to carry any burden or reluctance about tampering with a deceased artisan's work, so I was quietly relieved. If his response had been poor, I wouldn't have even been able to broach the subject.
"Specifically, do you have any Magic-Armament Alloy left over?"
I had realized it clearly in this last battle. The axe needed a homing instinct enchantment on it.
Fortunately, Mr. Balkun, the creator of the needle, understood my intent immediately.
◈
When I finished my business at Mr. Balkun's workshop and arrived at our meeting spot, Sheryl was already there.
"You're late."
With her hair gathered and braided over her left shoulder like I'd seen a few days ago, I might not have recognized her if I'd only seen the back of her head.
"I'm not late."
But even after seeing her face, I honestly doubted for a moment whether it was really Sheryl. Usually, no matter how cold it was, she preferred just throwing on a fur cloak over layering clothes because she said it hindered her movement. But today, since it was a rare outing, she'd dressed up in her own way.
She was originally a pretty kid, so when she dressed up, she definitely stood out. It was truly fortunate that she had an impression that somehow looked pissed off even when still, so people naturally steered clear of her.
If not, I'd have had to deal not just with Sheryl, but with the guard force too.
"Anyway, I didn't expect you to suggest watching something like this together. Do you know someone?"
"...It's not entirely wrong. There are quite a few knights conscripted from our house."
That was news to me. Since we'd set the meeting time earlier than the soldiers' return schedule anyway, instead of standing outside in the cold wind pointlessly looking miserable, we decided to warm up at a suitable shop along the main street.
It wasn't as much as the Empire, but the main thoroughfare connected to the royal palace still had tea houses that could be called respectable. So it didn't take long to find an adequate one. We entered the shop, took a seat by the window, and as I naturally continued with the gesture of pulling out Sheryl's chair, she shrugged off her coat, sat down, and looked at me with an odd gaze.
"You're quite skilled."
"Of course, I've worked hard, so it's only natural. You think the head butler praised me for nothing?"
I couldn't say how many people truly enjoyed labor, but I'd enjoyed my work for the Ogatorf household fairly enough. When I smiled, thinking back on memories that already felt impossibly distant despite not being that long ago, Sheryl stuck out her lower lip as if dissatisfied and grumbled.
"You could have become a knight, not a butler."
"How many times do I have to say it? Knight training is useless for my life, except for about thirty percent of it."
If it had been a house that produced half-assed, earring-style helmets or something, maybe. But Ogatorf was a prestigious knightly family renowned even across the kingdom.
It was no exaggeration to call it one of the cradles of knighthood—a place that unstintingly provided education in swordsmanship, military science, politics, culture, and everything else, except eating, washing, and sleeping. It taught you to the point where you could suddenly become a commander or a noble at any moment without a hitch in your duties.
But that education was premised on eventually ending up in a position where you commanded others. It was far removed from my goal of a life spent roaming alone, far from being treated with deference.
I swear, learning logistics management, calculating money, grasping market prices, and making connections with merchants while sticking right next to the head butler was a hundred times more beneficial to me than that kind of education. Seeing her bring it up every time we met meant she was really hung up on it, but since I couldn't make sense of it, it just seemed like childish sulking and all I could do was laugh.
"Or what, should I have become a knight alongside you and devoted myself to the kingdom? I'd be lucky if I didn't slit some fucking asshole superior's throat."
"...Mmmmn."
The way she reacted as if she'd found that weirdly convincing overlapped in my mind with Asilie's disbelieving gaze that had been directed at me this morning.
It was almost hurtful that they trusted me in some things but showed this reaction too. But when I thought about it calmly, I had no right to feel hurt at all, so I decided to just call over a server.
There were still thirty minutes left until the scheduled parade time, and even that was just a schedule, so I added cake and other refreshments. Sheryl's lips curled up.
The refreshments and coffee that came out after a short wait were certainly different from what I'd tasted at the Imperial Academy. Though I couldn't tell if that difference simply came from the gap in national power between the Empire and the Kingdom, or if it was the aftereffect of the long war.
And so, about an hour passed before the long-awaited parade finally began.