Who Am I, You Ask? (1)

"From now on, I'm Leon. So call me Leon for a while."

"What the hell are you—"

Adam's expression went blank for a moment, then he let out a long sigh and shook his head. Knowing his old friend's wandering habits all too well, he could roughly piece together the situation.

"Sneaked in again, did you? Security's been brutal with all the outsiders pouring in, but somehow you still made it through."

"This much is nothing."

Leon flashed a mischievous grin that didn't suit his age at all, then looked Adam over.

"That aside... uh. What's going on with your body? You've gotten... considerably thicker."

"Ah, this? Does it look bad? I picked up some new techniques from some excellent teachers not long ago."

"Teachers? You?"

Leon looked genuinely surprised.

Ever since Adam had been called by the title of "Smith"—a name that meant master craftsman—his pride had been scraping the heavens. Someone had actually managed to teach this arrogant, stubborn old man?

"Mm. You wouldn't know. It's a long story... Let's save it for drinks later. So—what do you need from me?"

Leon flinched at Adam's words. He hadn't even stated his business yet, and the reason for his visit had already been found out.

"The reasons you show up are always the same. Weapon repairs, random favors, or booze. So which is it this time?"

"Ahaha. Sharp as ever. I can never get one past you."

Scratching his head, Leon explained why he'd come. Adam listened with his arms folded, then nodded.

"So you're saying you want to hide your identity and enter the festival?"

"That's right. If I get found out, Tony will try to kill me. So I need a different weapon, and something to cover my face."

"Then you'll need a helmet. Hold on. Helmet, helmet... I made one a while back and stashed it somewhere around here."

Adam rummaged through the clutter piled haphazardly in the corner, then came back dusting off a helmet thick with grime. Once the dust was gone, it cleaned up rather well.

"Try this on. I forged it ages ago and shoved it in a corner—not sure if the size will fit."

"Let's see... Oh! Perfect fit. Excellent!"

Fortunately, the helmet sat snugly on Leon's head. It was a full-coverage design that completely enclosed his skull, with only small eye slits and breathing holes cut into it.

The severely limited field of vision was a drawback—but for a man who'd been living with one eye already, the difference hardly mattered.

"You'll need a different weapon too, won't you? What was it you used as a sidearm?"

"Mm..."

Leon pulled off the helmet, already growing muggy from the forge's heat, and fell into thought. He didn't really have a fixed sidearm. Whatever came to hand in the moment—that was his secondary weapon.

"Nothing set in stone. Recommend something suitable."

"'Anything suitable,' he says. Sounds like the worst kind of customer."

Grumbling that the hardest request in the world was "anything, just make it good," Adam soon returned with a longsword of appropriate size. A subtle golden sheen ran along the blade, catching the eye.

"How about this? Made it practicing a technique I've been working on lately. Well—compared to my teachers' work, it's not even a quarter of a quarter of a masterpiece."

"Oh? This sword is quite... no, it's extraordinary."

A gleam lit Leon's eye. Adam might ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠call it a failure, but from the balance in the hand to the keenness of the edge to the very form of the blade—it was a longsword that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could proudly be called a masterwork.

"Can I really just take a sword like this? And you're calling this a failure?"

"Don't you know about the divine weapons? Next to those, this thing is a stick."

"What weapons?"

"Hah, never mind. You're the same as ever. Still only listening to the bits that interest you."

Adam shook his head as he watched Leon cheerfully claim the sword.

"You don't even know about the divine weapons, so how did you hear about the festival?"

"Well, I picked up the rumor at a tavern. How could I miss out on a duel this entertaining?"

"Hah..."

That habit of cherry-picking only what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠interested him and letting everything else slide—still going strong. When would he ever fix it? Adam shook his head at his longtime friend.

"Ah! Can I leave this here for the duration of the festival? It's far too conspicuous."

Still staring intently at the longsword, Leon pointed to the bulky something strapped across his back. Adam nodded.

"Ah, that thing. Go ahead. Prop it up over there."

The forge was already full of weapons—looking after one more was no trouble at all.

"You register for the festival over at the arena. You can handle that much yourself, right? Get going—I'm a busy man."

"After all the help you've given me, I can manage that much on my own. Sorry for dropping in out of nowhere, and thanks for the help! Drinks are on me next time!"

Leon left the forge with a bright grin.

Following the road toward the arena visible in the distance, he arrived in no time.

Priests were taking applications at a temporary booth set up in front of the arena.

"Do I register here?"

"Are you participating in the festival? Please read this form and sign it."

A quick skim revealed nothing but the expected rules. Attacks capable of killing an opponent were forbidden. Poison and concealed weapons were prohibited. Attacking a surrendered opponent meant disqualification...

Reading through it, Leon suddenly voiced a question that had occurred to him.

"Is anyone really allowed to just sign up like this? Won't every riffraff and hanger-on apply?"

"Ah, about that."

The priest smiled and pointed somewhere. Over that way, burly warriors were clustered around something.

"Once you've signed, head over there, pass the test, and submit your papers to the supervisor."

"Hm? Understood."

Leon scrawled his signature and followed the priest's directions toward the gathering of warriors. Then he saw the scene there—and his eyes went wide.

"Next."

Demonic, radiating an oddly murderous aura, stood with his sword drawn. Unconscious bodies lay sprawled all around him. Of all people, the supervisor turned out to be Demonic.

And the killing intent filling Demonic's eyes suggested something had gone very wrong.

"I'm next, I'll take you o— GUAAAH!"

"Next."

Demonic dropped the bold challenger with a single stroke and muttered darkly. He was seething with pure spite—a rather unfamiliar sight for Leon, who remembered Demonic as always cold and composed.

What's gotten into that ice-block Demonic?

It was the look of a father whose daughter had been stolen away.

Not that that could possibly be the case.

"We're almost completely full now."

I muttered as I looked over the Coliseum prize list. It had already been several days since I'd started steadily filling the prizes with high-grade gifts and items from the Mystery Shop.

The finish line was truly right in front of me. The few remaining scraps would fill themselves given a little more time.

And the really important ones were the prizes for first through tenth place.

Since there were dedicated slots for those, loading expensive items into them would probably apply some extra weighting.

"I'll fill one with the Fairy Horse..."

I dragged the Fairy Horse registered down below all the way up and set it as the tenth-place prize. The moment I touched it, the Fairy Horse thrashed violently and snorted in protest.

Looking the way it did, maybe it really was a unicorn—a lunatic that would only accept a maiden's touch.

That left first through ninth. I fell into thought for a moment. I'd need to register weapons of at least B-Grade, or at minimum C-Grade. With the gold I had now, I couldn't unlock any new weapons.

In the end, I'd have to craft the weapons I'd already made once more and register them as prizes.

I opened the weapon list and carefully reviewed the ones I'd unlocked.

"For A-Grade, there's the Greatsword of the Faithful and the Lionheart King's Sun Scepter... for B-Grade, the Dragon Hunter's Axe... for C-Grade, the Great Shield of the Guardian and the Morning Star Staff. Is that everything?"

The greatsword I'd given Kenis, the scepter I'd given the Emperor, Friga's axe, the shield I'd handed to that Iscal-whatever guy, and the staff I'd crafted as a quest reward for a resident.

Five weapons total that were C-Grade or higher and already unlocked. Even if I made all of them, that still left four slots empty.

I also had a Random Weapon Crafting Recipe in my inventory. Even if desperate prayer somehow pulled a C-Grade or higher weapon, I'd still be three short.

"Ah, whatever. It'll work out somehow."

I could fill the gaps later. For now, I mindlessly started crafting from the A-Grade weapons.

Among the ores currently available, the best was Refined Platinum, smelted from Sparkling Platinum.

Just as I was about to craft the greatsword with ten pieces of Refined Platinum, a message window appeared.

"Huh? Star-Grade Enhancement?"

Hearing the term for the first time, I quickly straightened up and carefully reread the message. So if a Hero-grade Adventurer got two or more of the same weapon, it would be enhanced.

I hadn't tried crafting weapons myself in a while, so I'd never seen this message before.

It was my own fault for playing the game a bit lazily—but I still felt a little wronged.

"Come on, couldn't you explain stuff like this a little sooner?"

If they'd told me earlier, I would've crafted these ages ago and enhanced them already. Waiting until I actually reached the weapon-crafting screen to spring this on me was, frankly, the developers' fault.

I was blameless.

Anyway, the developers were the bad guys here.

It's not like the same Hero-grade Adventurer had ever even shown up at the inn before.

This was genuinely the developers' screw-up.

Grumbling about the developers the whole time, I crafted the weapons. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠platinum I'd stockpiled vanished in the blink of an eye, and five weapons appeared in my inventory.

"But how do I get these to them?"

Would my Hero-grade Adventurers be participating in the Coliseum? They had to be, right? The event I was running was basically a Hero-grade Adventurer pickup event, so duplicates would show up too, wouldn't they?

"Is this right...?"

Slightly uneasy, I went looking for the Coliseum in World Exploration Mode and tapped around for information. After a long stretch of poking everything nearby, I found something like a roster sitting next to a resident.

Even scrolling steadily, it took a while for the list to end. Fortunately, aside from a few exceptions, it looked like they were participating in the Coliseum.

I registered all five weapons as prizes for now. If the heroes I'd given weapons to placed in the top ten, they'd receive these as prizes and unlock Star-Grade Enhancement.

And if they didn't make the top ten...

"I can toss out a few buffs, at least, right?"

A minor operational mishap and a touch of favoritism were scheduled to occur.