Amico and Affetto
Clang. Clang.
The hammer came down on the iron, crushing it into shape. Sweat ran down Matillo's swollen forearms. Even in winter, the heat of the workshop never cooled.
Matillo set the hammer aside for a moment and fished a cigarette from the pocket on his chest. He carried it to the forge beside the workbench and lit it. A tongue of hot flame leapt up, but Matillo did not so much as blink.
After soaking in the forge's warmth for a breath, he sank into the chair in front of the workbench. There was a sharp, aching memory in that hot fire — the memory of rising to the rank of Master Hunter and still failing to save anyone, a memory that would force him to atone for the rest of his life.
Matillo watched the cigarette smolder and quietly spoke a name.
"Tay. My love."
It was the name of the woman he had loved.
"It'll be over soon."
The Dragon Bane's shell was nearly finished. That meant he could finally see the end of a long, bitter feud.
Heaven's Light Corasius. Not an ordinary high-grade Corasius, but an Elder Species that had lived long enough to grow vastly stronger. Ten full years poured into a single revenge. It had been a painful stretch of time.
Matillo put the cigarette to his lips. Then he took it out again and exhaled a sigh. No smoke came with it. Shaking his head, he stubbed the cigarette straight into the ashtray and leaned back against the chair.
His fingertips trembled from the long hours of hammering. Matillo stared down at his hands with a hard face, then firmly gripped the shaking one and pressed it still, bending forward. Ash from the cigarette fell to the workshop floor.
Age was catching up with him — the aftereffects of all the reckless strain he had put on his body during his hunter days. Tremors, and sometimes a deep chill through his whole frame. It was the future no hunter who treated their body roughly could escape.
At first Matillo had thought of nothing but revenge against Corasius, so he had paid these aftereffects little mind. He had never once considered what would come after he killed the dragon.
He muttered under his breath.
"I ought to take my medicine."
Lately, belatedly, Matillo had begun to think about his own future. All of it was thanks to Alice, whom he had met by chance.
Once he killed Corasius and reclaimed the burned-out husk of Crete, what would be left? What could a man with neither revenge nor anything else remaining even do?
He had devoted everything he had to protecting the past, and time itself had frozen solid in Matillo's world. Now that world was beginning to move again.
Alice.
Matillo looked up at the ceiling.
"A person from the future, huh…"
Word of Alice had long since spread by mouth among the soldiers and hunters. It was not only her story — tales of the wasteland had naturally reached every corner of Cartadia as well. Once people knew, trying to hide it any longer was just covering one's eyes and pretending the world was dark. The kingdom and the Association no longer bothered to conceal the crisis.
The temporal anomalies. The ruined Cartadia of a destroyed future. And Miteraos, the root of it all.
People were uneasy, but thanks to the kingdom's forces and the hunters racing about in every direction, there was still only a faint tension in the air; daily life went on much as before.
And then there was Alice, the sole survivor.
The moment Matillo heard that news, he had been deeply startled — and he had felt a kinship. The claim that she had lost everything was true. The wasteland reminded him of the Crete he had once lived in. But what Matillo had lost was a city; what Alice had lost was a nation.
He had never doubted her words, yet Alice carried a grief of loss far greater than he had imagined. Her face rose unbidden in his mind. There was a touch of playfulness in her, but she was always coldly composed. Was that the weight she bore — the reason a girl her age had been ground into something as sharp and merciless as a honed blade?
Knock, knock.
A sound came from outside — someone rapping on the door. Matillo rose and opened the workshop door.
It was Alice.
"It's me."
Matillo looked at her without a word. Alice tilted her head.
"What is it?"
"…Nothing. Come in."
Matillo shook his head and waved her inside. Alice was carrying a box, and inside it were materials Matillo had never seen before. He reached out and gently pressed one with a fingertip.
"It's cold."
If Disastro's materials had drained the strength from anyone who merely touched them, these held a tremendous chill. Matillo asked,
"And what is this supposed to be?"
Alice answered without a shred of hesitation.
"What used to be Neveumano and Neveterde."
"What, Neve…what? A yeti and a snow woman? What is this, some northern fairy tale?"
"…"
Matillo furrowed his brow at the unfamiliar names. Only then did Alice launch into the story of Lacrima.
"Another Supreme-grade monster. Just what are you…"
"Last time the Dragon Bane made it easy, but this time I killed them alone."
"Is that even possible?"
Alice nodded.
"I tried it, and it is. I almost died, though. It's all thanks to the greatsword you made. If I'd had that, I might've been able to take Disastro alone too."
At her answer Matillo let out a dizzy sigh, dropped heavily into the chair, planted his elbows on his knees, and hunched forward. Then he spoke as if complaining.
"Alice, when I'm with you, nothing but completely impossible things keep happening. If I listed them one by one there'd be no end to it. Your existence alone already doesn't make any sense."
"You knew about that too, Matillo?"
"Yeah. I know full well you're a brat more than two hundred years younger than me."
Alice smacked her lips, looking a little awkward.
"In a situation like this you'd expect someone to despair, but watching you work this hard… it's really something."
Having said that, Matillo straightened his back and looked at Alice.
"What is it that drives you like that?"
"Me?"
Alice stood still and touched the corner of her mouth. She thought hard about the reason, then simply shrugged.
"Because I made a promise."
"A promise?"
"I promised I'd put the future back the way it was, so I keep moving."
"…It's already a wasteland. And you're going to reverse that?"
"Yeah."
Alice's face was full of confidence.
"Once I kill the bastard who made it that way, everything else will work out somehow."
Matillo looked at her face. Her gentle features were full of light — the expression of someone who had set down a burden of the heart.
He answered,
"That's right."
Matillo nodded and laughed, ha-ha.
"Once we've paid back everything that was done to us, everything else will work out somehow."
Alice's promise was clearly one she had made to herself. A vow to restore the future no matter what — and with her own hands, at that.
When revenge was finished, it was not that nothing remained. The one who had survived remained. From there on, she would carve her own path. If she did not stop at the end of revenge, anything was possible.
Matillo rolled up his sleeves.
"Alice. The Dragon Bane's shell will be finished soon."
"Ah, yeah?"
Alice rolled her eyes with a look of not knowing quite what to do with herself.
"Where are you off to this time?"
"I'm heading out again in three days."
Matillo answered evenly.
"Is that so. Can't be helped. The anomalies are more urgent, after all."
"Sorry."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for. Corasius can be killed whenever."
What was urgent right now was not a private matter, but the anomalies threatening the kingdom. Matillo knew that, so he felt no impatience at all. He turned the conversation back to the box Alice had brought.
"And you brought that because you want me to make something out of these materials, right?"
"Ah, yeah."
"What kind of weapon? Not another greatsword, I hope?"
Matillo crossed his arms and asked. Alice shook her head.
"Not a greatsword."
"Good. At least you're not completely obsessed with greatswords."
Alice blinked. In truth, that was somewhat accurate. But what she wanted this time was a pair of twin blades.
"…Dual blades this time."
"Dual blades?"
"Yeah."
A greatsword and dual blades were weapons that moved in completely different ways. Handling both was difficult for most people, and as a former hunter Matillo would have liked to offer that advice — but Alice was different.
She did not merely know how to use a greatsword and dual blades. She could handle just about any weapon a hunter might pick up. It was about time he handed over the nickname Weapon Master.
Matillo thought of Oplo and chuckled inwardly. Two weapons forged from Supreme-grade materials alone. No hunter had ever achieved a feat like that.
He asked,
"Did you like Carestia?"
"Yeah. It was the best."
"Then I'll have to show my skill again this time."
Alice had already sorted the materials in advance. Neveterde and Neveumano — she wanted one blade made from each, so that the two would become a single paired set of twin swords.
"I already named them, too."
"Named them?"
"Amico and Affetto."
Friend, and affection. Two blades joined into friendship. Truly fitting names for a pair of swords that would be used together from now on.
"That's a good name. Not like you."
"Right?"
Alice lifted her chin proudly. She had not thought of it herself, but being praised still felt good. Matillo looked at her and snorted as if he could not believe it.
"Last time you were going to name the longsword you made from Kometras 'Style Over Substance,' and now you actually came up with something decent?"
"…A longsword should be called Style Over Substance."
"Well, that part's true."
Idle talk passed back and forth between them.
Friendship. It did not refer only to what lay between Neveumano and Neveterde.