The Crucible of Vengeance
The preparations for the reckoning never left my mind. The tragic love story of Dagran and Layna, to be precise. Why did their heartbreaking tale keep circling through my thoughts like this? They were nothing more than extras who didn’t even appear in the game’s main story. ‘Isabella.’ It was probably because it reminded me of her.
Every time I took Isabella’s route, it stirred up the grief I felt from losing her over and over again. It made sense. Isabella and Layna were alike in many ways. While Layna had been born completely unable to feel emotions, Isabella had been forced to live a life where she had to suppress her own feelings.
Negation. To be acknowledged as the next family head, Isabella had to accumulate as much negation as possible. The stronger her negation grew, the more overwhelming her power would become.
But from Dagran and Layna’s story, I had gained one crucial hint. The demonic sword Obsidian, designed solely to absorb emotions of hatred. In the end, Obsidian had been born when Layna’s powerful lingering grudge fused with it, turning a holy sword into a demonic one. If that was the case, then perhaps the Graham family’s ancient tradition of accumulating only negation was also tied to some kind of powerful grudge?
What if their cursed fate of having no choice but to gather negation was being manipulated by some overwhelming lingering will?
I might be able to save Isabella.
In other words, if I could remove that grudge, she might finally be freed. The story of Isabella that had always ended in tragedy might unfold differently this time.
“Of course, it’s not a fundamental solution.”
Even if she were freed from that grudge, it wouldn’t end there. At its root, the reason the Graham family was bound by such a grudge was because of the ancient great demon of the far north. It made sense. In the game’s later stages, Isabella would constantly mutter things like, “I must be the one to stop that demon,” and there had been several playthroughs where she abandoned everyone she loved and vanished alone into the northern blizzards.
“The point is, I just need to kill that bastard.”
The son of a bitch in the north who had driven Isabella mad every single time. If I could take down that great demon, everything would be resolved.
Of course, since the Ekayan that had turned the dwarf borderlands into a wasteland was only considered “low-rank,” an ancient great demon would certainly not be an easy opponent.
“Who cares.”
Then I just had to make it easy. I would pour every ounce of my knowledge and experience into creating a weapon powerful enough to slice that thing apart.
And what was that weapon?
Crucible. The otherworldly version of the Crucible.
The hellish blade carried by ‘that guy.’ I intended to create that very sword. All thanks to the motif Dagran and Layna’s story had given me.
I’ve been underestimating the power of emotions too much.
Until now, I hadn’t given much thought to the power of emotions. I had only focused on mechanically designing weapons using the four fundamental forces of physics to crush my enemies.
This is another world, after all.
This place was a different world. The power of emotions fused with mana could not be ignored. As proof, Layna—who had only been at the mid-level of Sword Expert—had single-handedly wiped out every monster that invaded the borderlands. Among them had even been an Ekayan, which qualified as a low-rank demon. Considering her level, it was an absolutely monstrous feat.
That was why I planned to use the spell formula for imprinting memories to create an upgraded version of Obsidian. I would call it the Crucible.
But here, someone might raise a question. Obsidian was born because Layna’s powerful grudge had taken root in it. Don’t you lack such a grudge?
The fusion of memory and emotion. They might argue that my own resentment couldn’t possibly compare to Layna’s.
“······.”
Yes, I suppose one could see it that way. After all, I had only experienced this world through a game, and my real life had been completely separate from it. While Layna had lost her entire life, I had merely spent a few playthroughs.
But…
That wasn’t the case anymore. After possessing this game, the memories of my previous playthroughs had risen to the level of my past lives. Even now, thinking about the tragedies of those previous rounds made my flesh tremble, my breathing grow ragged, and the final breaths of the women who had died in my arms feel vividly real. Dozens of despairs and tragedies had seeped into my very bones.
It’s not lacking.
So it was possible. I would gather all the despair and hatred from dozens of playthroughs and imprint a powerful grudge into the blade—one that sought to eradicate all demons. That grudge would only accept emotions of intense rage meant to tear enemies apart, and that destructive emotion would become hellish energy itself.
A demonic sword that accepted only the power of demons that called for destruction. The otherworldly version of the Crucible would finally be complete.
Time flew by. The day we departed for the Dwarf Allied Kingdom had arrived. Thanks to Elena’s efforts, the three—Kroto, Eguwa, and Arjie—had successfully joined this diplomatic delegation. Treated like heroes from forty years ago, the bastards who had glorified their own pasts swaggered in as specially invited guests.
We headed to the ‘exchange station’ and placed our hands on the teleportation magic tool. Direct teleportation to the Dwarf Allied Kingdom was impossible now that trade had been cut off, but we could at least reach the area near the borderlands.
“We are an imperial delegation.”
Upon arriving at the Dwarf Allied Kingdom’s checkpoint, we presented our invitation along with our identification. The dwarves’ gazes toward us were rather cold, but they let us through without much trouble.
“Let’s recover the body first.”
Once inside the dwarf border, we headed straight to find Layna’s corpse. Her body had been left abandoned in the very spot where she died forty years ago.
The public opinion back then couldn’t be helped.
The dwarves had refused to give her a proper funeral. They believed the madwoman had massacred her innocent kin. Of course, some dwarves who knew her well had strongly insisted that Layna would never do such a thing and that she deserved a funeral. But the dwarves who had been at the scene had clearly witnessed her madness and hatred, and Kroto’s false testimony had roughly matched the situation. In the end, public opinion had no choice but to lean toward “Layna was driven mad after being attacked by monsters.”
And so Layna had been left abandoned in the bitter cold for over forty years.
“·····She looks so lonely.”
Finally, Elena and I arrived at the place where Layna’s body lay. We had been able to pinpoint the location thanks to the sealing orb containing her grudge. After all, a grudge—a condensed mass of memory and emotion—naturally reacted intensely to its original owner.
“…Prepare a coffin. I’ll restore her appearance from when she was alive.”
Although she had been frozen, forty years had passed and the body was severely damaged. Fortunately, Elena had the ability to manifest her memories in three-dimensional form. She began restoring the corpse with that power, and the grotesquely withered body soon returned to the beautiful form it had held in life.
“The coffin is ready.”
In the meantime, I had prepared the coffin. It was one I had specially crafted for today. I placed Layna’s body and her grudge inside it together, then activated the spell formula engraved on the outside of the coffin. The coffin began to glow brightly as some kind of process started within.
The rest of the work could be left to Isabella.
When we arrived at the temporary lodging we had secured near the border, Kroto’s group was already drunk and spinning tales of the past. They claimed that tens of thousands of monsters had swarmed the area and that they had been the heroes who stopped them. Complete nonsense.
“Wow—amazing! How did you manage that!”
However, Enya was playing along and cheering them on. Clarice was also reacting with sparkling eyes as if she were listening to true heroes. It was all to deceive Kroto’s group. To make sure they didn’t suspect anything and followed us all the way to the capital of the dwarf kingdom, we needed to inflate their egos and dull their senses.
“Hey~ Mr. Rising Commoner!”
Then, one of Kroto’s group spotted me walking by and called out. I approached and gave a light bow. The drunkard spoke in a slurred, arrogant tone.
“What’s that thing floating in the air over there~? It looks like a coffin or something?”
So that was what he wanted. He was curious about the coffin Elena was carrying with psychokinesis. I smiled and answered.
“It’s a gift for our seniors.”
“A gift?”
“Yes. There’s an exhibition tomorrow, isn’t there? I placed some equipment inside this coffin to honor the one who stood alone against the massive monster invasion forty years ago. I’m sure our seniors will like it very much.”
The moment he heard my words, the bastard broke into a wide grin and let out a hearty laugh. He clapped me on the shoulder.
“Hah… what a pretty-looking kid~! But the way you think is pure man! You really understand what honor is!”
He laughed vulgarly and kept drinking. Enya glared at him with cold eyes and muttered curses under her breath.
“······.”
Our eyes met in that moment. I mouthed the words ‘You’re doing well. Hang in there.’ Enya’s face flushed slightly as she gave a small nod.
“Then I’ll take my leave. I still have work to do.”
“Kahaha! Sure! A man with big responsibilities shouldn’t be bothered by the likes of me! Go on! If you’ve got time later, come drink with me!”
He looked me up and down and licked his lips. He had grown even more vicious with age. The sight of his disgusting face for even a single second turned my stomach, so I turned away and headed straight up to the second floor where Isabella was waiting.
“You’re here?”
When I opened the door to Isabella’s room, she greeted us with an eerie smile. She glanced at the coffin containing the body, then emitted black haze from her entire body as the corners of her mouth curled upward.
“Whoa… this is incredible? It’s been a while since I’ve felt hatred this intense.”
Isabella rose with an excited expression, as if she had met an old friend. Once we set the coffin down and opened it, she stared at Layna’s body with flushed cheeks and murmured.
“Amazing… such pure hatred…”
Isabella lifted Layna’s body into her arms. Then she began muttering strange things to herself.
“Yes… you’ve suffered so much… yes… I understand your feelings… yes…”
“······.”
Elena and I could only watch the scene in stunned silence. Since only the Graham family could handle negation, the sight looked utterly bizarre to us.
“Yes… that’s a good idea. Let’s gouge out their eyeballs. Rip out that filthy three-inch tongue, stir up their guts… yes…♥ What a wonderful idea…♥”
…Isabella kept muttering increasingly horrifying things. As if on cue, Elena and I exchanged glances. It was like we were reading each other’s minds through telepathy. We had come to the same conclusion: we needed to get out of there quickly.
“Ahem, um… Isabella. Take your time talking… We, we’ll come back later…”
We spoke in voices just loud enough for her to hear, then began backing out of her room. We tiptoed backward slowly so she wouldn’t notice us leaving.
“···!!!”
But just as we were about to close the door, Layna’s corpse suddenly began to move. The limp body rose up and abruptly embraced Isabella. Isabella’s whispering grew faster and faster. It sounded like a machine-gun chant from a fanatic.
“Yes. Good. Very good. Make lots of holes so blood fountains spray out, tear off every single piece of flesh, then pour something incredibly hot into their mouths. After that, let them see each other’s guts with their own two eyes—”
…But then.
Isabella’s chant suddenly stopped. The faces of Isabella and Layna, who had been facing each other, both turned toward us at the same time. Both women’s pupils were completely dyed pitch black.
“Uwaaaak!”
“Kyaaaak!”
Elena and I slammed the door shut and fled the room as if our lives depended on it.
The next day, we arrived at the capital of the Dwarf Allied Kingdom. We had come to prepare for the exhibition.
“Ed, should I install the lights here?”
“Yeah. Right there.”
“Should I put the welcome spell formula over here?”
“Yes. That spot is perfect.”
We began setting up according to the last slot we had been assigned. Since we weren’t simply displaying objects, there were many things to prepare. Fortunately, I had seven helpers, so we were able to complete the setup perfectly on time.
“Ahem—. The Iron Hammer Exhibition will now begin. All participants, please gather behind the stage. Distinguished guests, please take your seats…”
Finally, the exhibition began. The most prestigious exhibition among blacksmiths, one that boasted history and tradition, had raised its curtain. Our turn, however, was third. The dwarves were clearly looking down on us. After all, the more anticipated the work, the later the slot it received.
It doesn’t matter. Everything after us will be completely forgotten anyway.
Our work would send shockwaves throughout the entire Dwarf Allied Kingdom. Those shockwaves would tear away the ugly veil painted with lies and finally restore the fallen hero’s lost glory. The lies of the wicked would be exposed before the world, and the long-delayed evil deeds of the villains would finally be settled.
All by the holy sword that had returned—Conductor of Emotions.