The Worst Boss
“No, uh, what in the world….”
The blacksmith stared at the sword I held out to him, unable to hide his stunned expression.
“Just how did you use it to get it into this state?”
Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he said it.
Ah. So that was what people meant when they said someone was insulting you with their eyes.
I’d only ever heard curses spoken out loud before, so this was actually kind of new.
“I’ve killed monsters with it, killed demons with it….”
“Hmm. So you’re a mercenary, then.”
“I’ve caught thieves with it, caught rats with it…. Lately I’ve been using it for pest control…?”
“...Pests? Just what is your job, exactly?”
At his exasperated question, I only shrugged.
“...Well, however you use it, that’s hardly my concern.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be? Tools are made for human convenience, in the end. If the user found it convenient, then isn’t that enough?”
“Heeey.”
It was a far calmer reaction than I’d expected.
“Aren’t craftsmen supposed to take pride in that sort of thing?”
“Of course I do. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope the strongest swordsman in the world would use my blade. But what matters most is that the sword I made helps someone.”
“Ooh… that’s cool.”
Clap, clap.
“Cool, my ass.”
When I applauded him, the blacksmith snapped his head around.
His ears, faintly visible through his hair, had turned red.
“Use it however you want, but at least take better care of it. Or bring it back here. Wouldn’t it be a waste if your sword broke at a crucial moment and got you killed?”
“If I die, I won’t even be around to feel the waste…?”
“I mean the people around you will feel it that way.”
“Hmm.”
The people around me….
There weren’t any.
Still, I understood what he meant, so I nodded obediently.
“I’ll try.”
“Good. You’re still young, but you seem to be a skilled swordswoman. You should live a long time.”
“A skilled swordswoman?”
At his words, I tilted my head.
I could understand him noticing I was young from my voice, but why did he think I was skilled?
“If you weren’t, the sword wouldn’t have ended up like this. It would’ve snapped long before now.”
“Ah.”
“Only a swordswoman who knows how to swing without overburdening the blade could pull off this kind of feat.”
He was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but maybe he really did have affection for the sword he’d made.
Somehow, the word feat seemed to carry a little more feeling than he intended.
“Can you fix it?”
I could afford a new sword, sure, but I’d rather keep using the one I was used to.
“Can I fix it?”
The blacksmith let out a dry laugh.
“Of course I can.”
“Oh, then—”
“You melt the whole thing down, filter out the impurities, replenish the missing iron… then do this and that and hammer it thoroughly. Simple work, really.”
“...Isn’t that just making a new one?”
“You’re very knowledgeable.”
So that meant he couldn’t really fix it.
Pout.
I puffed up my cheeks.
“Forget it. I’ll just buy a new sword.”
“Pick whichever one you like. Ah, though I can dispose of the old one for you.”
“Mm, no.”
I shook my head and slid the sword back into its sheath.
“I’ll use it until it breaks.”
“Do as you like.”
Since it had come to this, I might as well use it until the very end and see when it snapped.
And when I bought the new sword, I’d tell it:
You should be a sturdy sword too, just like your senior.
I slowly looked over the smithy, searching for the one who would become my junior.
“Saying it myself is embarrassing, but that one’s a fine pick.”
“It’s similar to the one you’ve been using, so you should adapt easily.”
“That one’s pretty heavy, so it might be a bit much for you… ah, that was unnecessary of me.”
The blacksmith folded his arms and watched me choose a weapon.
Whenever I paused and studied one carefully, his gravelly voice would call out an explanation from behind me.
Back in my previous life, too, whenever I went into a shop with an enthusiastic clerk, they’d latch onto me and give me a full sales pitch.
I remembered how flustered I’d gotten, unable even to say I just wanted to browse on my own, and how I’d stood there awkwardly in front of the older saleswoman.
“Hmm.”
This time, unlike then, it didn’t feel nearly as burdensome.
Maybe it was because my personality had changed.
“I’ll take this one.”
I chose one of the swords laid out in a row and lifted it into my hand.
It had a comfortable grip, a stable center of balance, and a blade honed to a clean edge.
It even resembled the sword I’d been using. In more ways than one, I liked it.
And it seemed sturdier, too.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“With your skill, wouldn’t it be better to buy a finer sword? You don’t seem to need to come all the way to a humble little smithy like this.”
“I’ve used plenty of so-called famous blades already. I’m sick of them.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
“And also….”
He couldn’t see it, but I tapped the sword lightly and grinned.
“If I’ve used it this roughly and it still hasn’t broken, I don’t think it’d be a shame at all to call it a famous blade.”
“Ha, hahahaha! Well, I appreciate that!”
“You can be proud of it. From what I can tell, you’ve got plenty of skill.”
“You seem like a skilled swordswoman yourself. My, this little miss knows how to make a man feel good. Still, I’m not discounting the price.”
“Oh dear. That’s a little disappointing. Can I take back what I just said?”
“Not a chance.”
We traded jokes as I paid.
He really didn’t lower the price at all.
Well, it was expensive for a small-village smithy, but considering the quality, it was actually cheap, so I didn’t really mind.
“Won’t you go out of business selling goods at this price in a place like this?”
“I sell them cheaper to the villagers. I make up the loss by charging outsiders like you more.”
“Waaah, is it really okay to say something like that so openly?”
“I’m joking.”
The blacksmith guffawed.
“People here rarely need to buy things like this. We usually sell this sort of gear to traders.”
“I see.”
So there were traders here.
No wonder it felt a little off.
I hugged the new sword to my chest.
Sorry, but the belt is still occupied by your senior. For now, can you wait there?
Since I’d bought the sword, I was about to head back to where Garid was when I remembered something I’d forgotten.
“Oh, right. Anything been going on lately?”
“You mean at the smithy? Nothing special, though.”
“No, I mean on the Ardeena Continent.”
He was skilled enough, but I didn’t think a blacksmith in a little village would know anything about the swarm of pests that had been bothering me.
That was the sort of thing I should be asking at the information guild.
Still, maybe I could pick up even the tiniest clue.
Like the emperor having been assassinated, or the empire collapsing, or something like that.
Ah. I’d accidentally blurted out my own wishes.
“Nothing much, really. Dimensional Beasts and demons are still running wild, humans are still fighting one another, the elves are probably still buried in their forests, and the dwarves are still drinking beer like it’s water.”
“So, business as usual.”
“If there’s anything unusual at all….”
The blacksmith, stroking his rough beard, slapped a hand against his palm.
“Ah, right. Liberi existed, didn’t it? How could I forget that!”
“Liberi? You mean the Liberi I know?”
“If the Liberi you know is the Free Mercenary City, Liberi, then yes.”
“Why Liberi? They’re just money-grubbing pests who’ll run into a battlefield if you pay them enough.”
“I can see why you’d hate them so much….”
“Ah, sorry.”
I must have sounded sharper than I meant to, because the blacksmith scratched his cheek awkwardly.
After I apologized quickly, he waved it off and said it was fine.
“Same here, so there’s no need to apologize. Shall I go on?”
“Yeah. Please.”
“Recently, Lady Edel brought some people over from across the sea.”
“Across the sea? You mean Laxia?”
“No. The eastern sea.”
The east… So there was land over there too.
And she’d brought people from there, personally? Goddess Edel herself?
“In the process, Lady Edel bestowed her blessing personally, so they’re being called Messengers of God, or Apostles.”
“But what does that have to do with Liberi?”
“Because the Apostles are based in Liberi.”
“...Not the Sedes Holy Kingdom? If they’re messengers of God, apostles or whatever, wouldn’t they belong to the Edel Church?”
“I don’t know about that. They received the blessing, but they say they don’t worship the Edel Church, so I’d imagine that’s Lady Edel’s intention.”
“Convenient,” I muttered.
Gods actually existed here, and some of them had even descended in person before, so faith in Edel in this world was absolute.
If even the races that worshipped other gods or natural forces put their own deities beneath Edel, that said enough.
“So the city’s influence has grown because of those Apostles or Messengers? Just because of that?”
Even if population was power, was something like that really possible with the Ro Arca Empire standing so firmly in place?
“It’s because of the blessing.”
“Is the blessing that incredible?”
“It has all sorts of effects, but… if I had to pick the greatest one, that would be it.”
The blacksmith nodded solemnly.
“The power of resurrection. The authority over life and death that only Lady Edel can wield.”
“...!”
“You don’t die even if you’re killed, and you can bring other Apostles back to life too. Naturally, that kind of thing would make them influential, wouldn’t it?”
Resurrection…?
If that was possible, then why in the world—
Suddenly I could barely breathe, and my mind turned hot.
Between the flashing fragments of my vision, countless things swept past.
But what tightened hardest around my throat was—
Garid….
I knew I had no right to receive that blessing.
Even if I were Edel, I wouldn’t bother granting a blessing to someone who didn’t even believe in me.
But Garid was different.
What was the difference between him and those so-called Apostles that only they were blessed?
Are they allowed to die, while the people of the Ardeena Continent who believe in and follow you are not?
Why?
Thunk!
“...Hey! Hey! Are you all right?”
“...Ah.”
My vision brightened again.
I felt a heavy weight on my shoulder.
The blacksmith had gripped it hard, looking down at me with worry.
Only then did I realize I’d stopped breathing.
“...Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Thank goodness. You suddenly went quiet, and then I saw you weren’t breathing, so I was shocked. Do you have some kind of condition?”
“A condition…? No, nothing like that.”
I shook my head.
“I was just a little upset.”
“Upset?”
“Isn’t it the same for everyone to want to avoid death? So why are they the only ones getting special treatment?”
“Hmm.”
“Isn’t that unfair?”
I’d told him how I felt on a half-impulse.
Maybe I wanted to add one more person who disliked Edel, or maybe I just wanted to vent to anyone at all.
...Well. I still didn’t really know why.
The blacksmith fell silent after hearing my complaint.
Aside from the rough rustle of his hand through his beard, the smithy made no sound at all.
How much time passed?
At last, he lowered his hand from his beard.
“It’s a little unfair, like you said, but I don’t envy it.”
“...Why not?”
“Because the blessing wouldn’t feel like a blessing to me.”
As though sensing the question in my eyes, he continued at once.
“Not all Apostles are like this, mind you, but I’ve heard many of them take up weapons and go into battle. Sometimes against monsters, sometimes against Dimensional Beasts, and perhaps sometimes even against other humans. What they all have in common is that once one battle ends, they’re off to the next battlefield immediately. Over and over, no matter whether they win or lose.”
“...”
“I don’t want that kind of life. Even if you can resurrect, you’d still feel the pain, wouldn’t you? Rather than living by throwing yourself into battle again and again, I think a life spent swinging a hammer like this is far better.”
“But you said not all Apostles go to battle. If you got the blessing and lived like that, wouldn’t that be fine?”
“Then wouldn’t that be something not worth envying in the first place? It would be no different from my current life.”
“...You could still have an accident, though.”
“Then that would be unfortunate. But I believe that if one receives such power, it must be because there’s an enormous duty attached to it.”
“That’s a convenient way of thinking.”
“It’s a useful way of thinking for living in this world. You’d do well to learn it too.”
He shrugged off the solemn mood and laughed heartily.
“I don’t know what kind of life you’ve lived, but I can guess a little. If I’d lived the same life you have, I might think the same way.”
“...So?”
“Nothing more than that. I’m not trying to convince you, just telling you what I think, so don’t let it bother you.”
“You’re dumb.”
When I snapped at him, he burst out laughing again.
It wasn’t even that funny, so why did he keep laughing?
Neither of us had any intention of persuading the other, so I stuck my lip out and spun on my heel.
“I’m leaving.”
“Take care. And treat it a bit more carefully this time.”
My mood had soured, but I’d gotten a clue.
Apostles who couldn’t die even when killed, and a never-ending swarm of pests coming for me.
Even if the swarm of pests wasn’t actually made up of Apostles, the fact that they’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere meant they were probably connected somehow.
Jingle.
When I opened the door, the clear ring of the bell tickled my ears.
I stepped halfway outside, then turned my head back toward the blacksmith.
“About what you said earlier.”
“Hm?”
“You said your wish was for the strongest swordsman to use the sword you made.”
“Well, isn’t that every craftsman’s wish? Why do you ask?”
“Then maybe it’s time to look for a different wish.”
“...Huh?”
Leaving the blacksmith behind, still wearing a bewildered expression, I closed the door.
The bugs might start coming back soon, so I’d better hurry.
Clutching the sword tightly in my arms, I trotted up the mountain path.