The Saint of the Laundry
The Saint of the Laundry
Saint of the Laundry?
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I stared at Elena with a bewildered expression, but she just shrugged.
"It's not me."
It's not a rumor you spread?
As soon as I heard "Saint," I thought Elena had spread it to attract customers.
She had a look that said, "I may be an excommunicated saintess, but I wouldn't go so far as to insult the Church."
It seems "Saint of the Laundry" refers to me.
It must be that the rumors about the Tar Swamp incident at Ignis Industry or the Pandora incident at the Magic Tower spread quietly and got twisted along the way.
"What is a 'Saint of the Laundry'?"
"I heard there isn't a garment in the world you can't wash. From equipment to clothes, and they say you'll even wash weapons if the material is right?"
"Where did that rumor start, by any chance?"
"Customers who visited our forge mentioned it from time to time. The Hunters from Hunters Inc. as well, and recently, the employees at Ignis said there was an amazing person. I heard the Ignis CEO even cut off her own people's heads because of the Saint of the Laundry."
That's a gruesome rumor.
Cutting off heads?
It's true Carmilla cut them off socially, but...
'It's not that extreme.'
I'm not really at the level to be called a Saint.
Anyway.
'So Guild Master Chaerim has been spreading the word, too.'
I believed in you, Guild Master.
But "Saint" is way over the top.
Saint, my foot. I'm just a laundry owner who's good at getting stains out.
"Well, I'm the owner. What kind of laundry did you come for?"
"I am Garun. Head of the Dark Iron Forge, Meister, survivor of the Indomitable Hill, the Strong Right Arm, and master of the Golden Hammer."
Garun.
He was a famous dwarf that no hunter could possibly not know.
A dwarf whose skill was among the top in the entire country.
A master like that came here?
After finishing his introduction, Garun let out a heavy sigh and plopped the large bundle he was carrying on his back onto the counter.
Thud-!
That's not clothes, is it?
It was a dull, heavy crashing sound, like slamming a giant lump of iron onto a marble floor.
I wondered if the shelf had broken.
"Can this be washed, too?"
"I can wash any armor regardless of the material. Is it something like a steel plate?"
"It's not a steel plate. It's the Wyvern Leather Apron I've worn in front of the forge for hundreds of years."
"An apron? This?"
Wyvern leather was famous for being the lightest and softest among dragon leathers.
Such an apron has become this hard?
Is that even possible?
I put on gloves and carefully untied the bundle.
The moment I saw the contents, a dry laugh escaped me.
It was definitely an apron, but it was as hard as a lump of iron.
"You said you've used it for hundreds of years?"
"That's right. Dwarves never replace their equipment until they retire."
"Don't tell me you've never washed it once?"
"I've done basic maintenance, but I couldn't stop the spirits of the swords from embedding themselves into it."
Spirits of the swords?
"If it were just normal iron filings, I could just brush them off. But the things embedded in that apron are no ordinary iron."
Garun swallowed a groan and continued.
"The swords that failed to become master swords in my hands and broke... The spirits of those swords have dwelled in those iron filings and clung to the apron."
"Hmm, it would probably be better to just replace it than to wash it."
"Dwarves don't replace their equipment. Not until they retire."
"......Does that include the apron?"
"That's right. Hammer, anvil, and apron. These three pieces of equipment are companions that must never be replaced."
Deep regret flashed in Garun's eyes.
"Since the weight of the souls has been added, it's only natural that it's heavy. Now, whenever I put on that apron and pick up my hammer, I hear the crying of the broken swords, so I can't forge any new swords at all."
I looked at the blackened apron.
An apron full of traces of having been cherished like a companion.
Even if it was made of Wyvern leather, to have used it for hundreds of years...
It's no wonder they're dwarves.
"Saint, could you please wash away the sword spirits dwelling in this old leather and give them rest?"
Spirits of the swords.
If ordinary people heard this, they would have dismissed it as a dwarf master's exaggerated metaphor or romantic nonsense.
But.
Kiiing-.
Woooong-.
[Detecting waves of contamination.]
[Using Cleaner's Detection.]
It was clearly audible to my ears.
The sharp, sad metallic sound resonating from among the fine iron filings densely embedded in the apron.
It was true that the thoughts of the metal were dwelling and clinging to it.
'Fascinating.'
Iron filings resonating among themselves, huh.
"It's possible."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"You're not just saying that, are you? This is a very important matter to me. I'm not doubting the Saint, but... there have been many mages and craftsmen who said it was possible. But they all failed. I don't want to be tortured with false hope. If I can't fix this, I have to think about retiring."
"Retiring?"
"Didn't I tell you? Dwarves don't replace their equipment until they retire. If I fail to maintain it to the point where I can't use the equipment..."
"Then you retire."
Garun nodded.
"If the Saint was just speaking empty words, I intend to just leave."
"What methods have you tried?"
I thought about trying the methods that came to mind immediately.
"If you're thinking of using the magnetism of the iron filings, you'd better give up. It's a method I've tried many times."
"Hmm."
Okay.
Plan 1 is canceled.
"Melting the iron was also impossible. It had an strangely strong resistance."
Plan 2 is also canceled.
"Various spells all failed, too. So..."
"There is one thing you haven't tried yet."
He widened his eyes.
"I'm going to use waves."
"Waves......?"
The moment I finished speaking, a system message appeared.
[Appropriate method.]
[The sword spirits are using constant waves to attach themselves to the apron and leave their presence. The power of the sword spirits accumulated over a long time is not to be underestimated, so be careful.]
Bingo.
Seems I hit the right answer.
"First, I need to start the work to see if it's effective."
"I'll trust you......."
The weight of the apron was considerable.
He carried it so easily because he's a dwarf, but this is quite heavy for a normal person to carry!
He wore this and hammered?
No wonder he failed!
As I struggled with the apron, Garun's gaze turned behind me, toward the inside of the laundry workshop.
"Hoho, these pieces of equipment......."
Garun examined the laundry equipment with a dazed face.
"You recognize them."
"I have seen countless pieces of equipment since coming to this world. I've seen items from various craftsmen made using modern science, magic engineering, and martial arts techniques, but......."
Whirrr-.
Watching the washing machine spinning, Garun admired it as if possessed.
"I've never seen such perfect equipment."
"As expected, a master's eye is different."
He recognizes this too.
Do you know how much money I spent to make these machines?
I had to go through hell and back to coax that woman.
"These are pieces of equipment made by a craftsman I know. They are all top-tier equipment. They say a craftsman doesn't blame their tools, but a true craftsman should handle the best tools."
He nodded at my words.
"That's true. I feel like my horizons are broadening! I've never seen equipment that intersects magic and science like this. Looking at it, the equipment here seems to have been touched by dwarven hands as well......."
Haha, this guy.
He really knows his stuff.
"Seeing equipment like this, I'm looking forward to it even more. You really seem to be a true Saint."
As if the dwarf's unique inquisitiveness had been triggered, Garun's beard trembled.
"You can watch me use the laundry equipment from the side."
"Really? Hah! Then, may I intrude?"
"Of course."
Watching us, Elena tilted her head with a look of incomprehension.
"What are you two talking about?"
"It's a guy thing."
The kind of thing only craftsmen can understand.
This makes work worth doing.
"You said you'd use waves. Then how are you going to create those waves?"
Garun, who had been admiring my laundry equipment, asked.
His face was now full of curiosity about using the new equipment.
How should I put it?
A look like an engineer's inquisitiveness?
I chuckled because I felt something relatable.
I pointed to a special washing machine located in the corner of the workshop.
It was a water tank-type machine with a lid that opened upward.
"It's an ultrasonic... no, a Magic Resonance Washer. You know the machine that cleans glasses at an optician's? Think of it as a super-sized, super-powerful magic engineering version of that."
"Ooh......!"
Garun trotted over to the washer with his short legs.
His thick fingers traced the mana circuits wrapped around the outer wall of the washer and the diaphragm at the bottom.
"Marvelous. A Mithril alloy tank with circuits that convert electric-type mana stones into vibrational energy! You even engraved dwarven shock-absorbing runes so the tank can withstand this immense high-frequency vibration! But there are circuit structures I don't know. Is this technology from this world? What kind of crazy genius designed this......!"
"I asked a craftsman who is deeply knowledgeable in magic and science to design it. I only provided the ideas, and I received practical help from that person."
"Hmph, well, I'm getting curious about that craftsman."
"It's not easy to meet them. They rarely engage in external activities."
That's why meeting and persuading them was really hard.
Ah, just thinking about that time......."
"Among craftsmen, there are many who think in ways that ordinary people cannot understand."
Leaving Garun's fussing behind, I filled the tank with a special cleaning solution.
It was a solution that not only easily accepted ultrasonic waves but also amplified the impact.
At the same time, it was the exclusive solution for the "Magic Resonance Washer," which also had protective magic cast on it so the fibers wouldn't be damaged.
I fixed the Wyvern Leather Apron, which had become as hard as iron, in the center of the tank.
"I'm starting it. You'd better cover your ears."
I turned the dial to increase the output.
Whiiiiiiing-!
The solution in the tank began to boil crazily and spew out white bubbles.
It wasn't just water droplets.
It was a process where ultrasonic waves loaded with mana vibrated tens of thousands of times, minutely striking between the leather fibers.
"Whoa! The leather isn't damaged at all, and it's only striking the joints where the iron filings are attached!"
Garun watched the cleaning process, lost in thought.
Just as he said, black iron filings began to separate from the apron, which had been hardened like a fossil, and spread into the solution as if dirt were swelling up.
But not all the iron filings were falling off.
Garun was watching as if it were fascinating, but.
'Not satisfied.'
The results weren't that good compared to the output.
As expected, contamination that has accumulated for a long time isn't easy.
The moment the iron filings fell off and spread into the solution.
[Cleaner's Detection reads the deep thoughts of the laundry.]
A system message popped up.
What is this?
-Woooong, woong.
The iron filings separating and falling off inside the tank.
A murmuring sound from among those hundreds-of-years-old residues hit my ears.
'It was hot.......'
'It hurts, I broke. I couldn't become a master sword.'
Emotions so vivid they gave me goosebumps.
It wasn't malice or a curse.
'I wanted to cut.......'
'Me too, I wanted to be a useful weapon too. I wanted to be held in the master's hand.'
'I want to go back to the forge. Hammer me again.......'
Countless iron fragments that couldn't withstand Garun's hammering and broke off.
The spirits dwelling in those fragments were just pouring out deep regret and sadness about not having fulfilled their purpose.
A pure longing of an inorganic object to become something useful.
It wasn't a resentful thought, but a pure longing that I felt.
'So that's why it was so heavy.'
It wasn't a physical weight, but the lingering attachments of those who weren't chosen that were weighing down the apron.
"No wonder it didn't fall off easily."
If an inorganic object has a will, you can never do it this way.
"Ooh, the iron filings are falling off! The iron filings that I've tried to remove countless times for dozens, no, hundreds of years are falling off for the first time! Hahahaha!"
Of course, that alone seems like a huge miracle to Garun.
"Mr. Garun."
"Speak."
"About those iron filings. How did they end up sticking to the apron like that?"
I felt I had to change the method.