Accept a New Disciple (3)
Having provided the early-morning passersby with quite the spectacle, Adam finally managed to wriggle free of his apprentices' grasp — though not before a minor "conversation" in which his thick forearms delivered a round of knuckle-raps to every last one of their heads.
"Hoo… so you lot actually thought I'd given in to despair and was heading into a dungeon to end it all?"
"Yes…"
"You absolute idiots!"
Adam slammed the table with a BANG, and the sturdy oak wood shuddered under the blow. Even at his age, the raw power in those iron-thick arms was nothing to sneeze at.
The apprentices swallowed hard as one.
"Hey… I think Master's actually furious this time."
"You're the one who rang the bell and woke us all up."
"Well, yeah, but…"
The apprentice who'd first sounded the alarm wore a thoroughly aggrieved look. It wasn't an unreasonable assumption — more than a few people who meant to end their lives did so by walking into a dungeon.
Still, the misunderstanding had started with him. Just as he was about to bow his head in apology, Adam pressed on.
"You lot! What do I always tell you?"
"…Huh?"
"The thing I hammer into you every single day! What is it?"
"…'Put your name on everything you make.'"
"Exactly! A true craftsman puts his name on his work! You make pieces you won't be ashamed to sign!"
The apprentices nodded. It was the refrain their master repeated like a habit, every single time.
"I never half-ass anything that carries my name! And that goes for you lot, too."
Their eyes went round.
"You're all works that carry my name, same as anything off my forge. I've still got a whole pack of you who are too green to even admit you work a smithy — so why the hell would I go and die?!"
"Master…"
"Bah… a forge full of apprentices I'm too embarrassed to claim. Get yourselves to a level where you won't disgrace me, and then we can talk about me dying or not."
He turned away in a huff and dropped his bundle with a dull thud. The apprentices' eyes welled up. That was the kind of man their master was — someone who only knew how to speak in rough, blunt strokes.
"Masteeer…"
"Enough! Grown men bawling like that is disgusting! If you've got time to cry, go swing a hammer!"
Adam spun on his heel. The tools he treasured like children had long since been set aside. After a moment to steady his breath, he spoke again.
"…The reason I was heading for a dungeon was to meet the god. Embarrassing as it is, my skill alone wasn't enough to unravel that longsword. I meant to go before the god myself and learn metallurgy straight from the source."
"Ah — so that's why the dungeon…"
The apprentices nodded. Learning from the one who'd actually made a thing was, after all, the surest path.
And in truth, more and more fervent believers had been walking into dungeons hoping for a divine audience — and meeting with accidents along the way.
"But… dragging this old, broken body into a dungeon really would be pushing it. If anything happened to me, there'd be no one left to look after you halfwits."
Adam let out a long sigh.
For all his self-deprecating talk of age and frailty, those thick arms still hammered and bent iron every day — but the apprentices said nothing. Keeping him out of the dungeon was what mattered.
"Hoo— Fine. The dungeon stays a last resort."
"Thank you, Master!!"
"Thank you so much, Master!! Thank you!!"
The moment that bull-headed stubbornness finally cracked, the apprentices bowed deep at the waist. He had changed his mind for their sake; gratitude was the least they owed him.
"So then — what now? How do I go about meeting the god and asking to be taken as a disciple?"
"Uh, well…"
"Hmm…"
Silence settled over the apprentices. A god wasn't the baker next door; you couldn't just drop by whenever the mood struck.
While the quiet stretched, someone carefully raised a hand — the youngest apprentice, only recently taken on.
"Um… Master. I have an idea."
"The youngest, is it? Go on, then."
"Wellll— if you absolutely must meet the god… what about the gate at the Pantheon?"
"The gate?"
"Yes — the big one that appeared in the Pantheon square… I heard some people have gone through it, and some have even come back out."
"Hoh…"
Adam nodded. Safer than a dungeon, and far closer. His apprentices would have no reason to object.
"Right. That sounds good. You lot agree with the youngest?"
"Yes, well…"
"It's not like we can stop you from walking around inside the Holy City itself."
"Good. Then I'm going right now. You lot manage yourselves! I'm off!"
With that, Adam snatched up his tool bundle and bolted from the forge as if the place were on fire — looking for all the world like a child who'd just spotted a festival.
Age be damned, he tore through the streets like an arrow and arrived at the Pantheon square in no time. The colossal, majestic gate standing at one edge of the plaza greeted him.
The mysterious gate said to have descended upon the earth with a pillar of light. Rumor held that it connected to the Holy Land where the god resided.
"Ahem, ahem… Hoo—"
Blacksmith though he was, Adam was also a devout believer. He steadied his breathing, straightened his clothes, and with a clean and reverent heart, began to walk slowly forward.
"O eternal and glorious god who walks with the light…"
"Guide my soul, I pray—"
Crowds already thronged the gate, deep in prayer — pilgrims who had come to the Holy City for that purpose, and citizens of the city itself. Countless people prayed in orderly ranks.
"Excuse me — yes, sorry — coming through."
Adam carefully worked his way through the throng toward the gate. As he drew near the front, the towering doors looked down on him.
A gate so vast he had to crane his neck just to see the top. Awe settled over him.
The finely carved beasts, the intricate and splendid reliefs, the sheer monumental scale — it all pressed upon a human soul with overwhelming force.
Adam sank to his knees and began to recite a prayer.
"O almighty Six Gods, please hear this old man's prayer…"
His prayer stretched on and on. Begun in the early morning, it continued until the sun was sinking low.
And then, as he repeated the words in a half-trance, something changed.
KRRRRRRR—
The sound of something enormous and heavy dragging across the earth. Adam's eyes flew open and he scrambled to his feet.
"Th-the gate!"
At someone's cry he looked up — and the doors that had been sealed shut were moving of their own accord, swinging open. Light began to spill through the widening crack.
The faithful pressed their foreheads to the ground and prayed with redoubled fervor. The gate to the Holy Land was opening! Among them, someone would receive the god's call and be allowed to enter.
Every soul prayed desperately, yearning for the honor of passage. Adam prayed harder still.
"O Six Gods in heaven, when darkness troubles my soul, come in light and illuminate my path—"
Through the gap in the doors, a single bright star drifted out as if swimming through the air. A small, brilliantly shining Star-light.
It lit the earth as daylight faded and darkness settled, blazing like a tiny sun — and gradually it descended toward the ground.
Slowly, gracefully, like a butterfly on the wing. A thin trail of light painted the empty air.
O god, please grant me the glory of the Holy Land…!!
Adam prayed with everything he had. He could count on one hand the times in his life he had prayed this hard. Had his prayer been heard?
The Star-light drifted steadily toward him. The closer it came, the harder his heart hammered.
And then—
"Ahh!! O god, thank you! Thank you!!"
The little star settled into Adam's arms and began to lead him. On trembling legs he hurried after the Star-light toward the gate.
At last, the old blacksmith stood before the door to the Holy Land.
FWAAAAASH—
Dazzling light poured from the open crack. Those watching shielded their eyes without thinking —
and when the light faded, the old blacksmith was nowhere to be found.
The Dimensional Gate begins to shine and activate!
The Dimensional Gate, quiet for a good while, started working on its own. It had gone silent ever since those three residents arrived last time.
"This suddenly?"
Whether it had conditions, a cooldown, or just fired at random, I had no way of knowing. For now, I swung the view over to the temple.
Dwarves bustled between the temple, the mines, and the forge, looking tiny on the screen. Among them was one whose beard was just a hair longer and whose limbs were just a touch thicker than the rest.
The worker I'd promoted last time. I was pretty sure he'd been the first one I hired — nickname Worker 1.
While I was at it, I scrolled through the others to see if any more promotions were available. No visible effects or alerts, so I had to tap every single worker one by one and check their info.
"Two more can promote."
Apparently seniority counted for promotions too — Worker 2 and Worker 3 were ready.
Worker 2 and Worker 3 can be promoted!
I was just about to promote the two of them when the Dimensional Gate I'd stuck in a corner of the plaza flared with light — and a single resident popped out with a soft thud.
Last time the newcomers had shown up at the inn. Was the gate supposed to spit them out like this originally?
The resident who'd come through stood there dazed for a moment, then started trudging toward the temple.
The last batch had brought weapon commissions and something like a quiz. I found myself getting a little excited about whatever event this one would trigger.
Pl€$se acc€pt m£ as y0ur d!sciple¡
Dialogue a little less broken than last time.
Ding-dong—
A message window appeared over the somewhat older-looking resident.
I took a swig of beer and read it through — then found myself blurting out before I could stop myself.
"…For real?"
What kind of free lunch was this?