Accept the New Recruit (4)
Adam felt the cool breeze brush against his cheek. Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his tightly shut eyes.
A vast grassland stretched before him, open and clear all the way to the horizon.
Swaaah—
Somewhere a wind rose, and the green grass bowed and rose again in endless waves. Was this the Holy Land where the god was said to dwell?
Adam looked around with a bewildered face. This was nothing like the Holy Land he had imagined. He had pictured a place crowded with cherubs frolicking atop the clouds, where sweet songs drifted through the air without end.
"...I should head over there first— hmm?"
If this truly was the Holy Land, then the temple visible far in the distance seemed the place to go.
He clutched the tool kit he had been gripping in one hand against his chest and was about to take a step when, far across the sky, the Milky Way came surging toward him.
Like ripples spreading across a clear lake, the undulating galaxy gradually swallowed the heavens. Adam's heart began to pound hard against his ribs.
Something was coming for him. As the onrushing galaxy blanketed the entire sky, the grassland was embroidered with a beautiful river of twinkling stars.
Stars filled Adam's eyes as he gazed upward. Brilliantly glittering stars.
Among those countless stars, someone was looking at him.
Among those stars—or perhaps the galaxy itself.
"O-oh... Sixth God..."
Adam's head gradually lowered. His knees turned toward the earth; his eyes cast themselves downward.
How could he dare raise his head? How could he dare meet that gaze?
One whose mere look could shake a fragile human soul.
One deeper than the sea, more vast than the sky.
Adam stood face to face with a god.
"Sixth God..."
Adam had prepared many words. His life, the passion he had poured into metallurgy, his talent and his faith.
Before standing before the god, he had questioned himself and answered himself, ready to respond to anything that might be said.
But... when the god looked upon him, he became nothing more than a single human being.
Every word he had prepared vanished into blank white nothingness, and what burst from him was the truth of his heart.
"O God! Please—show mercy to this old tinker!"
Prostrate, he shouted without restraint. He simply spat out, rough and raw, the sincere desire he had longed for and wanted.
"I am an old man who has lived his whole life like a fool, stubbornly hammering nothing but iron. In my twilight years I have shamefully grown greedy and committed the folly of defiling the Holy Land like this! But O God! Please look upon me with favor! Have pity on this old tinker!"
"Please grant me the glory of being enlightened in techniques that are like miracles themselves! If You would bestow even a portion of that brilliant miracle—no, even just the tip of it—this old man will live out the rest of his days rejoicing in it and counting it an honor!"
···
Having poured out the words welling up from within, Adam gasped for breath. Beyond the quietly glittering galaxy, he could feel that gaze upon him.
Through the Milky Way, the god was looking at Adam.
Adam swallowed dryly.
And then, from the galaxy that blanketed the grassland, a voice came.
It sounded like one person speaking, and yet like many speaking at once. It sounded like a young woman's voice, and yet like an old man's.
That wondrous voice turned toward Adam.
You, aged blacksmith. One who has spent a lifetime hammering and quenching before the fire.
Like a great old tree, you have lived your whole life with honesty, and you have also become a shelter for others.
Though you have grown old, you still drive this aged body to learn once more. In this, I take joy.
Adam's heart hammered madly in his chest.
That you remain humble after a lifetime of labor is your virtue; that you have neither deceived yourself nor compromised is your honor, for you have nothing of which to be ashamed before yourself.
You, aged one, firm and steadfast as an old tree.
What is it that you desire?
The god's question—what do you desire? Adam answered without a moment's hesitation. There was only one thing he wanted.
"Please accept me, and grant me leave to learn techniques as brilliant and radiant as those stars! For this old man, that alone is enough."
The god's miraculous craft. Even a fragment of it—even the tiniest sliver—would do. Adam still remembered the thrill that had shot through him like lightning the moment he touched the god's longsword.
Like a bolt of lightning grazing his body, or perhaps an intuition that flashed past in a single instant.
The pinnacle of the craft he had honed his entire life. A weapon so perfect it could be called a miracle without the slightest exaggeration.
And so Adam yearned. He wanted to forge a miracle like that with his own hands. Call it the inevitable greed of a blacksmith if you must.
Aged smith, is it a miracle you seek to learn in this place?
"It is, O God! Please show mercy to this old man!"
Your life is like an old tree, and your passion like a blazing furnace.
In this I take joy, and so I grant your request.
Henceforth you shall dwell upon this land, and from my servants you shall learn, and learn again.
"Ahh...! Thank you, O God!! Thank you!!"
Thick tears rolled down Adam's face. A mere human had made the arrogant request to learn a god's craft—and it had been granted.
How merciful, how compassionate a being this was!
Yet work still remains for you, and the time will come when you must return and fulfill your duty.
Something began to descend slowly through the galaxy. Its form was like... an hourglass. A vast and magnificent hourglass.
The sand that filled it began to fall, grain by grain. Like time itself flowing away—thin, endless, ceaseless.
The time allotted to you shall last until this sand is spent. On the day the sand runs out, return and fulfill your duty.
"Ah..."
Go, you who are like an old tree.
Adam stared up at the hourglass with a dazed expression. From that enormous vessel, grains of sand poured down like water.
The hourglass was so vast it looked like a small hill, and yet Adam could not help the regret that rose in him.
Slap—!
He struck his own cheek to firm up a heart that had begun to sink, and steeled his gaze once more. This much was only natural.
How could a human have expected to dwell forever in a god's land? That he had been given the chance to learn at all was already more than enough mercy.
The rest depended entirely on what Adam himself would do.
"No time to waste."
Before he knew it, the galaxy that had covered the sky was gone without a trace. Only the great hourglass floating in the air remained, standing solitary and proud.
Even now the sand fell without pause. Adam hastily gathered his tool kit and set his feet in motion.
Toward the great temple beyond the horizon.
To find His workers.
"...For real?"
I swallowed the beer I'd been drinking and sat up straighter. Then I focused and read the message again.
An elderly human blacksmith wishes to work in this place. What will you do?
"A free worker?"
Talk about a windfall. I'd been thinking it was about time to shore up the place a little, and now a free laborer just rolls in on his own?
No reason to refuse. Without a second thought, I selected 『 Accept 』.
The human blacksmith 'Adam' has temporarily become a worker!
A fanfare rang out, and the human blacksmith was added to the worker count. In the bottom corner, the tiny worker number ticked up from 20 to 21.
Just one, sure—but a free worker was a free worker. I was grateful. Then a phrase in the message window snagged my eye.
"Temporarily?"
Like a limited-time pet or something? If it was temporary, how long did he stick around?
As those questions started bubbling up, an hourglass appeared on the right side of the screen. A small hourglass, sand streaming endlessly through it.
"Ah. So that's it?"
Tapping the hourglass didn't bring up any concrete time. Not that I'd expected it to. Still, judging by the speed of the falling sand, it didn't look like an especially short stint.
Adam, now a temporary worker, trudged across the grassland toward the temple.
As he drew closer, the dwarves suddenly swarmed into motion and headed for the temple as well.
"Huh? What are they doing?"
They weren't doing the work they were supposed to be doing—instead they were suddenly moving in a pack. It was a little unnerving. This had never happened before.
Adam drawing nearer to the temple. The dwarves clustering and milling about in front of it.
And then the two sides met, and a strange tension carried even through the screen.
Adam and the dwarves held a certain distance, as if sizing each other up.
"...What are these guys doing right now?"
The standoff lasted a while. Then Adam stepped forward first, approaching the dwarves.
And then—
Adam bowed deeply at the waist toward the dwarves. At that, the dwarves swarmed around him, surrounding him completely, and led him off toward the forge.
It looked for all the world like they were interacting among themselves somehow.
I'd never seen anything like it. It felt like watching a silent animated short.
"So interactions like this exist too, huh?"
The dwarves and Adam heading for the forge.
I watched the scene with interest and took another swallow of beer.