Forging the Myth

"Myth-grade? Orochi?"

I stared down at the scale resting in my palm.

Human emotion systems treat Legend-grade as the ceiling. Normal, Rare, Unique, Narrative, Legend. Five tiers. That's the end of the chart. Myth-grade does not exist on any appraisal table. Yet the system window calmly announced something higher.

"Excuse me. Could you explain what exactly is happening right now?"

"That sword! It's Nagi's!"

"No, it's an item I made. I even covered the material costs out of my own pocket."

Crunch!

The shutter screamed its death rattle. The deep-sea-colored head was forcing the gap wider.

Shhhk—

Yellow vertical pupils swept the inside of the workshop.

"Just do it! Explanations later!"

"I'm not sure there will be a later."

"Then make sure there is one!"

The girl stepped forward. In that instant, a pale blue-white light enveloped her body.

"I was saving this. Really, really saving it."

She pouted, grumbling under her breath. Then she bent her small knees ever so slightly.

"Nagi-nim will buy you time, so hurry up."

She leaped lightly.

Boom!!

Her tiny frame shot forward and kicked the entire eel-like head that had been prying at the shutter clean out of the way. The building shook. Dust rained from the ceiling. The head, taller than the second floor, was sent flying out into the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠alley.

'What the hell was that?'

At most 150 centimeters. Forty kilos. That mass had just shoved aside something the size of a building. Where had physics gone?

I looked at the girl through a blacksmith's eyes. She was on a completely different level. She didn't even belong on the same shelf as that snake. Different stratum. Different grading scale. Yet she had no fuel left. A famed blade with a dulled edge. A furnace with only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a handful of embers. Her reserves were as empty as my bank account.

"……Haa. The life of a self-employed man."

I set the convenience-store bag down in the corner of the workbench. Wait for me. I'll feed you once this is over.

I dashed to the forge.

Ignition.

Fwoosh!

Heat slapped me across the face.

I snatched the katana from the stand.

Zing, zing.

"Don't rush me too."

"I know. But we don't have time."

Re-tempering. The process of reapplying clay to a failed blade, reheating it, and quenching it again. A second life for the sword.

I mixed whetstone powder, charcoal powder, and clay. Then I placed the girl's scale into a mortar and ground it.

Crack. Crackle.

Pearl-luster powder mixed into the clay. The mud took on the color of the Milky Way.

Thin on the edge. Thick on the spine.

The clay wrapped around the blade like a second skin before it could even dry.

I placed it in the forge and read the flame's color. Lemon-yellow. Overheated.

I pulled the blade from the fire and waited for the color to settle. Orange. Still too hot.

Behind me, something kept crashing, shattering, and ricocheting. Every time the building trembled, the forge flames flickered. I didn't look back. Looking wouldn't let me do anything. My battlefield was in front of me, not behind.

I read the flames. Listened to the sounds. Trusted the feel of my hands.

Deep cherry-red.

Now.

I drew it out. Quenched it.

Hisssssss!!!

Steam exploded.

Through the white mist, I saw it clearly. The wave-patterned hamon had vanished. And in its place, a new one was drawn. Not waves—scales. Pearl-luster scale patterns rose one by one across the blade. Without even polishing.

Ah. So that's it.

What this sword had lacked was a story. The blade itself had been perfect from the beginning—as a vessel. It simply had nothing on Earth worthy of filling it. The appraiser's words about lacking space for mana had been only half right. This vessel had never been made to hold mere mana in the first place.

When carbon seeps in, steel is born. When myth seeps in—

—a divine instrument is born.

No need to search. The sword had already told me.

"Kusanagi's sword…… Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi (草薙剣)."

Through the steam, the completed blade shone quietly.

"Heyyy! Are you done yet?? Nagi-nim is reaching her limit!!"

The pale blue-white light around the girl's body flickered like a dying candle.

"Catch!"

I threw it first. Thought second.

Wait a second. Was this right? An antique that was supposedly worse than a steel pipe. Handing that to a girl in mortal peril? What if it was just a sharp lump of metal that would bounce off the eel scales? If that happened, forget a refund—I'd be paying breach-of-contract fees with my life.

The girl's hand closed around the hilt.

In that instant, every worry became meaningless.

"——Aah."

She narrowed her eyes.

"This cool, heavy sensation. I'd almost forgotten. It's finally back."

Fwoooosh!!!

Brilliant blue-white light burst forth. The candle had become a lighthouse. The scale patterns on the blade glowed like a light source, dyeing the girl's silver hair pale blue-white.

Kwooooooo—!

Whether it sensed the threat or not, the Leviathan terminal split its jaws wide. Large enough to swallow an entire building whole.

And then—

Swish.

The girl gripped the sword. The next moment, she simply lowered her arm without any particular flourish. That was all.

No exaggerated sword aura. No flashy explosion. Just a strange severance, as if space itself had folded in half and unfolded again.

The massive blue serpent's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠body split cleanly in two. The cross-section turned white and crumbled away like a pillar of salt. Just as it had done to others. Karma. Reaping what it sowed. Ash to ash. Salt to salt.

Night wind blew in through the ruined shutter. The blue serpent that had filled the alley scattered as white powder.

As the light faded, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi dissolved with a soft rustle, turning into particles of light that seeped back into the spot on the girl's neck where she had plucked the scale.

"Huh."

My ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first work. The guy who'd spent months crying on the wall with me. Gone without even a goodbye.

Would I at least get the material and labor costs back?

***

Broken shutter. Half-collapsed wall. The remains of a serpent turned to salt. And in the middle of the workshop, one human and one self-proclaimed deity stood awkwardly facing each other.

"……"

"……"

It was awkward. Just moments ago we'd been fleeing for our lives together. Now that the threat was gone and peace had returned, there was no manual for what to say next.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I spoke first.

"Um…… excuse me……?"

That was the best I could manage.

"Ahem."

The girl spun around. She planted both hands on her hips and thrust her nonexistent chest forward as far as it would go. The remaining embers in the forge painted her silver hair a warm crimson.

"It's Nagi-nim!"

"Pardon?"

"The great serpent god, Nagi-nim! You saw it clearly just now, didn't you? Nagi-nim's overwhelming divine majesty! That monster, one strike—slash!—cut clean in half!"

Her expression was the very picture of confidence, triumph, and grandeur. Every word of it written across her face.

"Well? Scary, right? Scary? Magnificent? You can prostrate yourself and worship if you want! The generous Nagi-nim will specially permit it!"

I looked past the girl at the devastation behind her. Crumpled shutter. Torn-out wall. Cracked epoxy floor. Collapsed material shelves.

"……The repair costs are what I find truly terrifying."

"W-wait. That was supposed to be an incredibly moving scene just now, wasn't it? Divine sword awakening! One-hit kill! And the first thing out of your mouth is repair costs?"

"The flow is the flow, and the estimate is the estimate. You're not going to threaten the hardware-store owner with a divine sword, are you?"

"B-but in the end, we survived today! We saved our lives! Results are what matter! The minor problems that arose along the way should be slithered past smoothly, like a snake—that's the wisdom of life!"

"Those minor problems happen to be my entire fortune."

Did she know what this workshop was? It was my own small castle, built by cashing in years of savings and maxing out every line of credit I had. Sentiment aside, that shutter was a special-order size. The repair bill was going to be astronomical.

While my mental calculator spun, Nagi-nim sniffed around the workshop, nose twitching.

"Anyway! Nagi is hungry. Got anything to eat? Listen, Nagi ran all the way here from the upper floors without stopping. Didn't eat for days, didn't sleep on anything soft. Isn't that pitiful? If it's pitiful, hurry up and feed me!"

"Your logic is more flexible than a snake's."

"Thanks for the compliment!"

"It wasn't one."

Then Nagi's gaze stopped on one particular spot. The corner of the workbench. The white plastic bag sitting there.

"……What's that. The crinkly thing."

"My late-night snack."

My hard-won spoils. The 1+1 triangle kimbap I'd never once let go of, even while being chased by a serpent, even while carrying the girl on my back. Expiration at 4 a.m. Three hours left.

"Not happening."

"I haven't even said anything yet?"

"Your eyes did."

"Ahem."

The girl swapped expressions. Her face turned quite serious.

"Human. What's your name?"

"……Jin Hanul."

"Hanul. Good, I've remembered it. You were saved by Nagi-nim today. Nagi-nim saved you, didn't she? Protected you? That makes her your lifesaver, right?"

"I have vivid memories of carrying you on my back."

She pointed at me with a bold finger.

"Therefore, from now on, you will serve Nagi-nim. I'll appoint you as a shrine maiden. Offer tribute every day, worship every day, and provide a soft place to sleep."

"……"

"This is a historic moment, you know? Being allowed to serve a god directly! A miraculous opportunity that might come once in ten thousand years! You can be moved! You can sob your eyes out! Nagi-nim permits it!"

I was so dumbfounded I couldn't speak for a moment. She said I could cry. Of course I wanted to, but……

Let me summarize the situation. I went out at night to buy a late-night snack. Met a girl being chased by a serpent. Ran. Got caught. Carried her. My workshop got destroyed. I forged a divine sword with my own hands and handed it over. The shutter was totaled, the wall half-destroyed, and now even my snack was being eyed. And the root cause of all this chaos was demanding my worship.

It was like an arsonist putting out the fire and then billing me for the firefighting costs.

"I'll have to decline."

"Eh."

A dumbfounded sound escaped Nagi's mouth.

***

At the same moment.

A human hand had hammered myth. Not mana—divinity had been tempered. A lost divine instrument had reappeared in this world exactly as it had been in the original text. The resonance of those hammer blows spread throughout the entire Tower.

45th floor, the forge of Mount Etna.

"……Just now, who was hammering?"

The Cyclopes stopped their work and looked at their master.

"Someone refined a concept in the lower world? And with human hands?"

The limping god, Hephaestus, gazed down toward the lower floors of the Tower.

On the 69th floor, in the realm of true immortals, the sound of elixir boiling in the Bagua furnace ceased. Taesangnogun stopped fanning.

"Impossible. I must have misheard."

Taesangnogun resumed fanning. Faster than usual.

At the Tower's lowest floor, in the Abyss, there was a factory. A black factory where geometry twisted. Vrrr— Meee—

Conveyors woven from tendons. Eyeless things stamped out at regular intervals. Every time a mold opened, black goats with tentacles were shipped out. The Black Goat Factory Manager tilted its head upward.

In the upper levels of the Tower, inside the orbital factory's core, Mother Frame's calculations threw an error.

In every forge throughout the Tower, the flames leaned in the same direction at once. Toward the forge site. Toward a certain ruined workshop.