The Truth Revealed
The truth was finally coming to light. The current king of the Dwarf Allied Kingdom was Magrian. As his name suggested, he was Dagran’s older brother—a brother who had cherished his younger sibling with all his heart. Their bond ran deeper than that of any other pair of brothers.
“......”
That was precisely why he had hesitated so much before inviting me to this exhibition. The great catastrophe forty years ago had been caused by the Empire’s reckless territorial expansion, and the decisive factor that drove his brother to take his own life was the shock of his wife losing her mind and massacring their own people.
Of course, there were many parts of the story that didn’t add up. Layna contracting madness after a monster attack was one thing, but the idea that his brother would end his life so easily? It was nonsense.
“......”
But the dead don’t speak. No matter how many doubts he harbored, with only those human knights as witnesses, there was no way to uncover the truth.
I traveled the world but couldn’t find any answers.
Magrian had even journeyed across the globe in search of the truth. It had been his brother’s dream to travel the world, and he had wanted to know what really happened to him just as badly. Yet no matter where he wandered or who he consulted—even an elf friend whose counsel he sought—the answer never came. In the end he had to bury it deep in his memory as an eternal question mark.
“The next participant is Edgar Fix. Please come up to the stage.”
While he was lost in thoughts of his brother, my turn arrived. Magrian watched me ascend the stage with eyes cold as frost. Staring at my exhibit hidden behind the black curtain, he was thinking that if he could simply copy the technology, that would be enough.
Humans are not a race that can be trusted.
Magrian had essentially declared the Empire an enemy. Therefore, his invitation had never been offered in good faith. It was purely to steal the technology of the human who had become the subject of such wild rumors.
We cannot fall behind the Empire in technological power either.
In short, he had invited me because he felt a crisis looming. The dwarven technological supremacy he believed could never be matched for another century had been completely overturned by the appearance of a single human. So he had to uncover my secrets by any means necessary. To copy my technology he was willing to maintain this façade. He could award me prizes, confer titles, or shower me with vast riches. Magrian had summoned me with the resolve that he would do anything to keep from falling behind an Empire that already led in every other field.
“Nice to meet you. I am Edgar Fix.”
At that moment my presentation finally began. Dwarves like Magrian, who lived and breathed political maneuvering, focused their gazes to dissect my technology, while the pure-hearted blacksmiths watched me with eyes brimming with anticipation.
“Kuhuhu. This really brings back memories.”
The Kroto trio seated in the front row stared at the stage with expectant faces. I had already hinted to them that I would present a video honoring their achievements during this exhibition.
“Well, the dwarves have owed me quite a lot over the years.”
Forty years. Four decades had been more than enough time for them to forget the crimes they themselves had committed. No—Kroto and his companions, now well past sixty, had begun to glorify their own past. After all, their despicable methods had brought prosperity to their families.
In truth they were now the respected elders of one of the Empire’s most successful count houses. Elevated as the valiant trio who had defended the dwarf borderlands against the monster wave, they had earned the admiration of imperial knights and accumulated enormous wealth and honor. Looking back on their lives, they had convinced themselves they had lived proud, magnificent existences. They had always been the sort who shaped the process to fit the desired outcome.
It was right when the Kroto trio was busy patting themselves on the back and polishing their memories that I spoke again.
“First, before I begin the presentation, I must ask for your understanding.”
The sudden remark raised more than a few eyebrows. Asking for understanding before even revealing the item? What sort of object could possibly require such a preface?
“The weapon I am about to present is not, in fact, something I created myself. It is merely a restoration of a weapon made by another.”
“......”
…Restoring someone else’s work?
Silence fell, then erupted into commotion. Distinguished guests in the audience hurled criticism from every direction. It was outrageous. To bring another person’s creation to the sacred Iron Hammer Awards Ceremony and then stand there brazenly admitting it was only slightly modified—it was unthinkable.
“It’s a human after all! Drag him down!”
A few radical dwarves shouted that I should be removed at once to protect the sanctity of the exhibition.
Yet King Magrian remained seated with a face like carved stone, waiting for my next words. He believed the wise human boy he had heard so much about would not commit such obvious self-sabotage.
As expected, my following statement was enough to silence the uproar.
“However, I am not ashamed. On the contrary, I feel deeply honored to have restored this weapon to its original form. Because the weapon I restored is the holy sword Conductor of Emotions.”
As I spoke I swept the black curtain aside in one dramatic motion. The brilliant holy sword displayed inside the luminous glass case appeared before every eye in the hall. The first sword to use emotions as its power source, the blade that had cut down the legendary monster Bayater—the masterpiece Dagran created forty years ago had finally returned to the dwarves’ embrace.
-Thud!
King Magrian shot to his feet. At the same time, nearly every dwarf who knew the sword’s history rose as one. They rubbed their eyes or narrowed their gazes, unable to believe what they were seeing. No one had expected this artifact to appear at such a moment; the shock was universal.
It was then that I spoke again.
“The holy sword Conductor of Emotions. I have named it Return of Honor for this exhibition. Because this blade carries the truth about a tarnished honor.”
A tarnished honor. No further explanation was needed. Everyone understood it referred to Dagran and Layna—the pair who had met incomprehensible deaths forty years earlier.
“…Damn it. This is completely different from what he told us.”
The same realization hit the Kroto trio. The vile deeds they had committed forty years ago were resurfacing in vivid detail, and cold sweat broke out across their skin.
“W-wait…”
They needed to leave immediately. Having spent decades amassing wealth through every underhanded method imaginable, their danger-sensing instincts were razor sharp. The trio rose hurriedly, attempting to slip away.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
At that instant an overwhelming force pressed down on them, forcing their bodies back into their seats. Elena’s telekinetic power held them in place.
“Kh! Kugh…!”
“This stage was prepared especially for you. Stay until the end.”
No matter how much mana they summoned, they could not resist the crushing power. The Archmage’s cold eyes looked down on them without a trace of mercy.
We’re fucked…
The Kroto trio realized it then. They had walked straight into a trap. This entire event had been orchestrated from the beginning to deliver their punishment.
I turned to the confused audience and continued.
“It must be confusing. After all, this holy sword had already fallen and become the demonic sword Obsidian, and no method had been able to restore it.”
I took a slow step forward. Every gaze in the hall followed me.
“But with the help of Archmage Elena I was able to accomplish the impossible. I had the assistance of the greatest spell interpretation expert in the world.”
The audience immediately inferred the implication. The corruption of the holy sword into a demonic blade was deeply tied to a ‘spell.’ After all, even the Archmage herself had gotten involved.
“Yes. As you have guessed, the reason the holy sword became a demonic sword lies in a spell—a ‘grudge spirit’ spell infused with intense memories of resentment and hatred.”
Grudge spirit spell. A technique that binds a spirit body formed from fused emotion and memory. The moment I mentioned it, the dwarves instantly realized whose memories and feelings had corrupted the blade.
Layna. Dagran’s wife and the beautiful female knight who had been the sword’s rightful owner. Her memories and emotions had fused with the weapon, twisting it into Obsidian.
But why?
I began to explain the reason.
“I’m sure many questions are swirling in your minds. What exactly happened that caused the sword’s owner to harbor such overwhelming resentment? To learn the answer, we must return to that day forty years ago. We must witness the ‘truth’ of that moment through the memories sealed within this grudge spirit. That is why I have prepared this for all of you.”
I gave the signal. James, waiting behind the stage, started the projector. Enya and Clarice began pouring mana into the formation Elena had prepared in advance. The ‘illusion’ and ‘hyper-sensory’ spells activated, completely transforming the space around us. Layna’s own memories began to replay.
“You need only follow the memories of a human female knight who loved a certain dwarf. Let us begin.”
I stepped back from the stage. On the massive screen in front of the audience, the video began to play. It was Layna’s memory.