Chapter 203: Too Big to Refuse (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 203: Too Big to Refuse (4)
When Alphonse, the Prince of the Dwarves, first saw our Magic Sword, he said this:
“A truly strong person does not rely on weapons.”
It was a bit ironic hearing a Dwarf—a race synonymous with craftsmanship—say that one should focus on tempering oneself rather than their tools.
Well, plenty of people in Leon said the same thing, so I just shrugged it off.
“The skill of a human who is ruled by their weapon is obvious without even looking.”
“...?”
Since he was picking a fight out of nowhere, I didn't back down and gave him a thorough thrashing.
“Adam Smith. I admit you are strong. But there is no way someone who uses a mere Magic Sword can ever truly grow!”
“The Saintess here beat the crap out of a Dragonkin with nothing but a Magic Sword, though.”
“...?”
“Look, just give it a taste first, will you?”
Then, I practically shoved the Magic Sword down his throat.
“...!”
After using the Magic Sword just once, Alphonse fell head over heels for its charm.
“So this is a Magic Sword...!”
Having experienced a whole new world, Alphonse promised the full support of the Dwarven royalty for our secret Magic Sword factory.
Unlike others, he was a member of the Dwarven royal family who had personally participated, so there was no need for secrecy from him.
Thus, he began dropping in and out naturally, even when I wasn't around.
Alphonse had realized the practicality of the Magic Sword, but...
“I didn't want him to fall this hard for it.”
I hadn't planned on a full-blown Magic Sword corruption. What on earth happened?
“I misadjusted the output.”
At that, Old Man Derf let out a rare sigh, admitting his mistake.
“I got greedy after hearing that it melts away in Holy Water.”
It goes without saying, but the stronger a Demon is, the higher their resistance to Divine Power.
If that weren't the case, low-level trash—not even the early-game Dark Mages—would actually be more useful in a fight against the Saintess.
The more powerful the Magi, the greater the repulsion against Divine Power, resulting in more damage.
However, if that Magi is more powerful than the Saintess’s Divine Power, that very repulsion can actually push the Divine Power’s influence away.
The problem is that if you apply that to a Magic Sword, the person using it has to endure that overwhelming Magi.
“But why the Prince...?”
“He said he could handle it, so I told him to try it out, but...”
“......”
The number one reason why men die young.
It seemed the Dwarven Prince had invoked the classic: “It’s fine, I won’t die.”
“By the way, are you alright? You absorbed the Magi from a sword like that so easily.”
“Yes. As expected, the power of the original is on a completely different level, but...”
In exchange, the Divine Power Daisy had infused was already half gone.
It hadn't even been a minute, but it seemed that absorbing Magi accelerated the consumption rate significantly.
“It’s likely because the sword is using the absorbed Magi.”
“Ah. So the Magic Sword itself becomes stronger, causing the stored Divine Power to be consumed faster?”
“Exactly. I saw it in the recording, but that Magic Sword could utilize the mana it absorbed. Magi follows a similar structure, so it seems the Divine Power is being drained faster to suppress it.”
I needed Delmoa as soon as possible.
I never imagined the efficiency would be this garbage.
“But do you really need that girl? I heard she’s in a relationship with the Saintess. You could just ask her directly.”
“Let’s just say my conscience is a bit bothered on that front.”
Aside from the fact that getting involved is generally a hassle, I’d already received a lot from her side.
All I’d really done for her were a few dates in name only and acting as a shield as her fake lover.
Even then, since the fact that it was fake was already out in the open among the RoFan Male Leads, it didn't seem to have much effect.
“Then why don't you do something for her while you're visiting?”
“That’s a hassle.”
“...To think I’ve partnered with a fellow like this.”
“At the very least, you won't lose out, right?”
“I suppose that’s true!”
Old Man Derf gave a hollow laugh, looking exasperated, and sighed as he looked down at Alphonse, who was collapsed on the floor.
“First, I think we need to fix this guy.”
“I have a way for that.”
I placed the Magic Sword on top of the sprawled-out Alphonse.
“Are you going to absorb the Magi?”
“Not exactly.”
I filled a watering can I had prepared with Holy Water and poured it directly onto the sword.
—Screeeeeeech!
“Aaaaaagh!”
“......What are you doing?”
“Magic Sword purification.”
If it were Daisy, she could keep the Magic Sword in line with periodic Divine Power massages.
Since I couldn't do that, I had no choice but to use Holy Water as a temporary measure until Delmoa arrived.
Well, fortunately, it was effective, though using Holy Water felt like a waste.
“This way, I can kill two birds with one stone.”
“......”
As the Holy Water dripped off the Magic Sword and naturally fell onto Alphonse, healing him, Old Man Derf watched with an expression of awe.
“I was curious what the Evil God described by the Church of Light looked like. He was right here in front of me!”
That’s hurtful. Here I am, dealing with an evil weapon and a Magi-tainted Dwarf at the same time.
How could he treat me like the Evil God?
—Stop, stop! You're killing me!
“Aaaaaaaagh!”
I felt truly wronged.
“I showed you a pathetic side of myself. Thank you.”
A short while later, Alphonse, now completely free of Magi erosion, spoke with bloodshot eyes.
“However, I would appreciate it if you used a different method next time.”
“Did it hurt?”
At Old Man Derf’s question, Alphonse bit his lip hard before answering.
“It felt like my blood was boiling, and instead of blood, it felt like snakes were crawling through my veins...”
“Ugh.”
The old man shook his head as if he’d heard something he shouldn't have.
“I finally understand why Dark Mages and Demons fear the Saintess’s power.”
For a member of the Dwarven royalty—a race described as 'sturdy'—to put it that way...
As expected, the power of a RoFan heroine was truly formidable.
“By the way, this...”
“That is the starting point and the goal of this project.”
“Even while I was being ruled by the Magic Sword, my memories remained. I see. There was a reason why a picky old man, this crazy human, and even the Empire joined forces for this. But is it possible?”
“You think it is?”
The old man smirked at Alphonse’s question, and Alphonse nodded as if he understood.
“The moment the blades clashed, it felt like everything was being sucked in. Truly an artifact of the Mythological Era. With current technology, it would be impossible to recreate. So, we should proceed with my axe first...”
Wait, hold on.
“Stop right there. Why is the conversation going in that direction?”
“You already have a sword! And an original from the Mythological Era at that! Then instead of a flimsy sword, we should make a sturdy axe...”
“You just got your mind controlled by a greatsword! Do you think you can handle an axe?!”
“Urgh! T-That was because I let my guard down! If I don't let my guard down, a Magic Sword is nothing!”
“If it happens again, it’s Holy Water therapy.”
“......On second thought, I don't think I need a Magic Axe that urgently.”
It seemed the Holy Water really had been painful.
“I’m the one doing the making, so why are you two making such a fuss?”
The old man clicked his tongue at us, but he already had his hammer in hand.
Old Man Derf was the very embodiment of a Dwarf who couldn't be satisfied unless he was hammering iron every waking moment.
Having seen a failure before his eyes, there was no way his hands would stop.
“What a waste. It would have been better if I could have gotten a bit more Demon's blood.”
Clang! Clang!
Between the hammer strikes, Demon's blood was injected.
The Demon's bones contained within the tempered iron met the blood, letting out a sound that almost resembled a wail.
“Every time I see this, I wonder: what’s the difference between this place and a Dark Mage’s workshop?”
“Dark Mages do it to plunge the world into crisis. We do it for the sake of the world. There’s a huge difference.”
“I bet the guys doing dark magic use similar excuses.”
Derf looked skeptical, but as soon as he received the brilliantly glowing Magic Sword, his expression flipped instantly.
“I shall show you the power of Magic Sword No. 24!”
“Old man, your Prince’s eyes look like they’re rolling back again.”
“Don't worry. He’s always like that.”
Isn't that more of a problem?
“Is the Dwarven race going to be okay at this rate?”
“The King has a few more kids, so it’ll be fine.”
Those were hardly reassuring words, but I suppose I should show them the power of the original too.
“But didn't you say you couldn't use that for long?”
“That’s why I’m using it now.”
I’m not Ellen; thirty seconds is more than enough for a Magic Sword of that level.
In fact, it didn't even take ten seconds. Looking at the deceased Magic Sword No. 25, Old Man Derf let out a deep sigh.
Violet - You should have just said so...
Finally, this time had come.
An important occasion that could change the lives of many—no, perhaps even the fate of the continent.
Seeing myself sitting in such a significant position, I felt that I had truly grown a lot since starting out as the RoFan heroine's childhood friend.
“Ha, haha.”
In front of me was the Pope of the Holy Kingdom, behind me was the Emperor of the Empire.
And on my lap, the impossible position of the Second Saintess had been established.
...Shit, someone save me.
Alongside Delmoa, who was munching on chocolate chip cookies with a nonchalant face, and Aeryun, who sat beside me with a stiff expression that screamed 'Why am I even here?'...
I prepared to face the massive army that was now coming into view.
“...You're telling me that's not a declaration of war?”
The momentum of the approaching Holy Kingdom was so great that an Imperial agent muttered those words unconsciously.
Led by Holy Knights in pure white armor, a white wave surged forward.
When that wave naturally funneled through the opened gates of the Academy and arrived before us...
We were all tense...
“Violet!”
As if to make that tension meaningless, the Pope at the front ran toward me with pitter-pattering steps.
“......Your Holiness.”
No, why did you come all the way here?
I barely managed to swallow those words before they could burst out of my throat.
Right, what does a child know?
The problem must be the Goddess who gave the oracle.
Truly, the two most unhelpful existences in my life are Adam Smith and the Goddess of Light.
While her precious junior is suffering through such hardships, I wonder what on earth our boss is doing and where.
I felt like I could cry from the sheer unfairness of it all, but I held it back and faced the Pope.
“......?”
Wait, I tried to face her. But a familiar back of a head blocked my view first.
Since her hair had been tied into pigtails starting from a certain day, there was no mistaking Delmoa’s head.
She was blocking the space between me and the Pope, so I carefully slid my arms under Delmoa’s armpits.
I lifted her up to see what she was doing, and...
“......”
“......”
At the sight of Delmoa’s front, not only I but everyone around us fell silent.
That was because our Second Saintess, Delmoa, was looking at the Pope while making the sign language gesture for a 'mountain.'
“Delmoa?”
Where did you learn something so naughty...?
Of course, there was a very high probability that a certain someone—who doesn't live up to his name and is far too visible—had taught her.
But still, doing that right now, at this very moment... isn't that basically a declaration of war?
“......”
As if to prove it, the Pope’s beaming face froze ice-cold.
She bit her lip slightly, looking at Delmoa and me alternately with a face full of discontent, and then...
“I-I’ve never had that done for me.”
“...?”
“You’ve never picked me up like that!”
......So that was the problem.
You should have just said so.