Shield Sword
I melted down all the remaining Magic Stones, poured the molten metal onto the anvil, and gently closed my eyes.
A shrouded vision.
The only sensation was the searing heat of the still-glowing iron scorching the air.
Feeling that heat envelop my entire body, I lightly gripped the raised hammer.
This anvil I made.
This hammer I made.
And this body I made.
— Klang!
All these things I'd forged myself resonated as one, sparks flying.
Soon came the warmth of the flames and the coolness of the dust.
Even with my eyes closed, the shape of the equipment being honed on the anvil etched itself clearly in my mind.
'Equipment. Sua's equipment.'
What was her standout strength?
Sua was flexible.
'Situational awareness, and combat sense that shines in crises.'
Even drenched in cold sweat from fear, she'd used my body as a shield, swinging with precise timing.
In that hair-trigger moment, entrusting herself to instinct—that judgment was her talent.
And the flaws that followed?
"……Everything else."
A naturally frail spirit, a scrawny physique.
Harsh as it sounded, Sua wasn't born for battle.
Of course, she wasn't alone—most people weren't.
Ordinary folks who'd lived normal lives, suddenly thrust into towers to fight monsters? It didn't make sense from the start.
That's why blacksmiths mattered.
People who could die any moment.
Didn't we have to amplify their strengths, erase their weaknesses, boost survival just a bit?
'That's why the other gear never satisfied me.'
Crude lumps of iron.
Ignoring individual traits, even material properties, yet priced in the billions.
"Hoo."
I shook my head side to side, shaking off the frustration, and refocused on the forging.
Sua's equipment.
'Erase the frail spirit.'
And.
'Amplify the instinct that blooms in crises.'
I bundled those images and swung the hammer.
— Klang!
Even through closed eyes, spark afterimages flickered.
With each fierce strike, the crude metal lump shed excess, gradually transforming.
A round rhombus shield shape.
Its two ends.
Each hammer blow sharpened them into blades, forming sword edges.
The center rose like a massive fang, ready to pierce anything in one thrust.
Finally, I opened my eyes sharply.
"Hmm…."
The half-finished form met my gaze.
A shield protecting the wearer's entire arm, yet a blade to shred anything.
Balanced, a weapon fusing sword and shield, filling the anvil.
But not complete yet.
The armament infused with the crimson essence of the glowing red Magic Stone.
The moment metal particles compressed to extremes, forming the hardest yet most flexible grain.
"Now."
I halted the hammering, focusing every nerve on my fingertips.
The delicate final forging that defined the weapon's nature.
Heat treatment.
In a normal smithy, you'd quench in cold oil or water.
But no such coolant here.
Instead, I breathed on it.
"Swoooo—."
Cold breath with my exhale enveloped the glowing red shield.
Extreme temperature shift—metal internals rearranged roughly, a grinding creak-creak.
The instant that sound hit my ears, I inhaled lightly and caressed the shield.
Releasing the spiked internal stress.
The tempering process.
— Wooong.
Gently easing the extreme tension and stress within the metal.
Ductility and toughness rising, the Magic Stone's softness unfolding.
I felt that softness fill my hands.
Resilient yet shock-absorbing to protect the wearer's bones, ferocious yet charging only forward foes—infusing intense toughness.
"Hooah…."
"D-Done…?"
As I exhaled in released tension, Sua's anxious voice cut in, unable to wait longer.
"No, not yet."
Even high-purity Magic Stone had impurities.
So even perfect heat treatment left invisible micro-twists and residual stress inside.
Especially this freakish shield—extreme thickness difference between thin edges and heavy central fang.
"Uneven structure causes bottlenecks in force transmission, or snaps at weak spots."
Like that dagger last time, crumbling from a mere finger flick.
"Ah, y-yes…."
Sua backed away again at my words.
I stared at the heated shield-sword a moment, then began annealing.
Buried deep in the anvil's residual heat, maintaining faint warmth, slowly—excruciatingly slowly—cooling the metal's internals.
— Creak-creak-grind.
Like taming a savage beast.
Over endless time, standardizing and softening the internal crystals.
Fatigue and irregular hardness from rough blows subsided, reverting to the Magic Stone's stable flexibility.
But….
'Too soft won't do….'
Overly soft gear couldn't shield against attacks.
Fine, uniform structure with sturdy strength—both at once.
"Heave-ho."
Reheated the stabilized armament to optimal temp, then pulled it straight onto the anvil, exposing to air.
Sweeee—.
Natural air cooling, no forced quench or heat.
Cool earthen breeze and sunlight gently swept the surface, evenly drawing heat.
"Almost there."
I felt it from my fingertips.
The loosened crystals recrystallizing into fine, uniform density.
I stared at the slowly cooling shield-sword.
Dull silver surface shimmered faint red, then gleamed mirror-smooth, reflecting the courtyard sun.
The shield was complete.
*
After the shield-sword finished, I never touched it again.
Not like with Sawol, because it wasn't mine….
"Wait, don't touch it yet…."
I'd just turned to grab leather from Daon's basket.
— Click.
The sound of the armament sticking to a hand.
I whipped around—Sua, unable to wait, had grabbed the shield before I finished speaking.
"Uh, uh…."
As creator, I knew.
What Magic Stone property was enchanted.
"O, ooh…?"
Sua's everything flushed red.
Black hair, eyes.
And faint blush on her pale face.
"Wh-what…? Dan? My body, it's moving on its own…!"
Her voice trembled faintly, then roughened deep.
Beast-like breathing.
I flinched, looking up at Daon.
"D-Daon."
"…Yes?"
"Stop her…."
A shield and sword.
The moment grasped, reason erased—only instinct left.
Kuuuung—!
Sua's light foot stomp cratered Daon's front yard.
"……Grrrrr!"
Reasonless growl—her gaze locked on Daon in the yard corner.
Raising the massive silver-red shield-sword over one full arm….
"Wh-what???"
A berserker ready to charge the foe before her.
Daon realized the danger, leaped back in alarm.
Simultaneously drawing Sawol from her waist.
Daon, Sua, and me.
I was surely top dog here.
Leaders had dignity—no way I'd fight myself.
I bolted to a corner, hid, tail straight up.
Not scared. Really.
Next instant, Daon and Sua clashed.
Crackle, crackle.
Weapons met. Two auras surged.
But experience differed vastly.
Daon had swung only swords endlessly in my smithy.
Dodging Sua's charge, she struck the nape with Sawol's hilt, knocking her out, then stared at me.
"I was gonna say don't touch it…."
I muttered an excuse involuntarily—hurt my boss pride a bit….
But yeah, I was still the boss.