Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Thousand-Year Virgin
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The dwarf, who had suddenly been cursed at out of nowhere, glared fiercely.
What she saw were one cocky human brat and one flustered elf.
She could roughly picture what was going on.
The dwarf spat out immediately.
“What, is that your kid? God, no manners—who'd you get them from?”
“W-what? He's not my son!”
“He's not?”
No way she hadn't found a mate after all these years, so who could it be?
“Sigh...”
Lione let out a sigh as she introduced Enoch.
“He's my disciple. About three years now.”
“Your disciple? You?”
Ignoring the surprised dwarf, she turned to Enoch this time.
“That short... dwarf is Lirum. An old... acquaintance from back when we traveled together.”
“Friend? With a dwarf?”
Enoch's eyes widened as if he'd heard something utterly absurd.
It was her own karma biting her in the ass, so Lione squeezed her eyes shut.
“Wow, what the hell is with this brat? He'd get his skull smashed saying crap like that out there.”
“Ah, no... it's my fault...”
“Aha.”
Lirum cackled.
“Still haven't kicked that habit, huh? What the hell have you been doing all these years?”
“What's wrong with my age!”
“Why's the Thousand-Year Sword Empress acting like this? Oh, wait—is it because you're the Thousand-Year Sword Empress? Trying to keep your virginity for a thousand years too? Not Thousand-Year Sword Empress, but Thousand-Year Virgin, huh?”
“You crazy bitch! It's not that bad—!”
Lione trembled with intense rage, and beside her, Enoch's eyes went wide.
Tug tug—feeling her sleeve being pulled, Lione turned her head.
“Y-yeah, Enoch? What's up?”
Lione blushed slightly, having let a curse slip unintentionally.
But Enoch's attention was elsewhere.
“Lione, you're a thousand years old?”
“...!!”
Betrayed by her trusted disciple, the elf stood speechless, mouth agape.
But Enoch was dead serious.
A thousand years—that was only about nine hundred and eighty... no, practically no difference, just around a thousand-year gap.
From Lione's perspective, wouldn't he just look like a wriggling lump of blood with that age difference?
As he pondered this seriously, Lione seriously refuted him.
“Listen up, Enoch. Sis is a biiit older, sure, but not that much. Okay? A thousand? Ridiculous.”
Lirum laughed in disbelief.
“Sis? Siiis? I'm losing my mind. You two are the same age, more or—mmph...!!”
The elf clamped down on the dwarf and started striding forward.
“Come on, come on! Instead of this here, let's go inside and talk.”
“Yeah.”
Enoch quietly followed.
Pondering how to overcome the age gap.
*
Volcanic region.
As expected, not exactly teeming with people.
The only residents were a few dwarves doing fieldwork.
Lione burst into Lirum's workshop—one of those—and roughly dropped the dwarf on the floor.
“This bastard...”
The pissed-off dwarf grumbled as she straightened her rumpled clothes.
Coming up to Lione's solar plexus, with bulging muscles on both arms and fiery red hair that stood out.
Enoch closely observed the dwarf he'd never seen before, noting the differences from his mental image.
Not many, though.
“Anyway, what's really up? Freedom drops by occasionally, but you? Feels like the first time in a century.”
“Freedom did?”
“Yeah. She was here two months ago.”
Enoch glanced at Lione at the unfamiliar name.
Come to think of it, she hadn't mentioned it?
Lione gave a quick explanation.
“I said Lirum was a friend from back then, right? Freedom's the same. We three wandered around together.”
“That was when you got the title Thousand-Year Sword Empress.”
“Hey.”
“...”
Lirum shut her mouth at the sharp tone.
With a sigh, Lione got to the point.
“Anyway, I need a favor.”
“What? A faaavor? From you?”
“Yeah.”
Lione boldly stated her bold request.
“Make a weapon for Enoch. Gauntlets would be fine.”
“Nope.”
“...Anything you want?”
“Qualifications.”
Lione furrowed her brow.
“You still follow that old geezer custom?”
“...Coming from you, 'old geezer' might not apply?”
Even four hundred years ago, plenty of dwarves followed the custom, and Lione had been old back then too.
“Shut it.”
Lione growled.
“And that brat doesn't seem that interested in weapons anyway?”
“Huh?”
Lione looked at Enoch at Lirum's words.
As Lirum said, Enoch's eyes sparkled at Lione's unfamiliar side, weapon or no.
“Hey, brat.”
Lirum leaned against the wall and eyed Enoch.
Not much to look at, squat as he was.
“Dwarf-made weapon. Not tempting?”
“Not really?”
Enoch tilted his head.
“Weapon made by a dwarf sounds like something for shorties.”
Lirum gawked at Lione.
Lione clutched her head.
“What have I dooone...!”
“This crazy elf bitch, I knew you'd screw me over someday.”
Crazy elf bitch?
Enoch's eyebrow arched.
“...Don't need dwarf-made or whatever. Lione whittling me one from wood would be way better.”
Enoch's ironclad concept shattered, words flowing fluently, but Lione had no head for it.
“N-no, Enoch...! She makes weapons way better! I'm better at everything else, sure!”
“Wow, this bitch to the end...”
Enoch didn't stop.
Daring to badmouth Lione?
“Even if you gave it, I wouldn't use it. My fists seem stronger anyway.”
“Heh heh...”
“Metal gauntlets would be stiff and stuffy. No help at all.”
Lione rolled her eyes desperately, Lirum chuckled.
Then she shot up from her seat.
“You wait right there. I'll show you what a real weapon is. Not some elf hack-job, a real one.”
“No need...”
“You, whatcha got?”
Lione reluctantly handed over some mithril.
“Back before the tea cools.”
“Didn't serve tea...”
Bang—!
Lirum vanished into the workshop.
Undine, who'd been eavesdropping midway, poked her head out.
[Oh... brat. Kinda clever?]
“Huh?”
[Huh?]
Undine tilted her head.
[You provoked her on purpose?]
“Huh?”
Enoch tilted his head.
[That was sincere...!?]
Of course it was pure, one hundred percent sincere.
*
Undine, reverse-summoned for yapping at Lione.
Her sneaking back into the middle realm wasn't rare.
Enoch figured all top-tier spirits did that and let it slide.
The gap while Lirum forged the weapon.
Enoch shoved Eri in front of Undine.
[Keung?]
[What, so?]
“Watch and learn?”
Anyway, one thing Enoch was sure of: Undine's skills were the real deal.
Just her skills.
Everything else, not so much.
[Learn what from that? Possible?]
“No?”
[You can't say... hmm.]
Thinking about it, he'd kinda picked up stuff just by watching?
Hadn't he learned magic by roughly mimicking Lione?
Guy had pierced his middle dantian right after starting his first one.
[...Fine. I'll teach her myself.]
Undine took Eri aside and started lecturing.
Enoch glanced at the gravely pondering Lione, then grabbed two nearby cups for no reason.
“Water, rise.”
Pfft—! A fist-sized water blob formed with a weak spark.
Pleased with his improved magic, Enoch thoroughly rinsed the cups.
“...Enoch? What're you doing?”
“Huh? Pouring water?”
“Those are already clean.”
“Dwarf used 'em, right?”
“......”
Lione truly realized.
This wouldn't do.
Enoch had promised not to make racist remarks.
Yet he said stuff like that casually?
He always kept promises to her, good kid that he was.
Which meant he had zero awareness that it was racist.
“Oh, gods...”
Lione, who'd never sought gods before, tapped an empty chair.
“Enoch, sit here.”
Time for some real, real-real discipline.
*
“So, Enoch, you can't say stuff like that. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
Failure.
Lione felt powerless before those clear, round eyes.
She'd brought this disaster on herself.
Even sighs to the heavens left her speechless.
'No good!'
What now?
Simulations ran in Lione's head.
Enoch's talent was exceptional.
Beyond exceptional—unparalleled in history.
If time passed smoothly, he'd probably conquer the continent.
Assume that happened.
Adult Enoch claims the title of continent's best, reigning supreme alone.
Vivid scenes filled Lione's mind.
Massive palace. Bowing ministers.
Enoch on his lofty throne, gazing arrogantly at the masses, murmuring.
'Hmm. These vermin are an eyesore.'
'Yes, Your Majesty! We'll clear them out!'
Humans went extinct.
'Hm? The dwarves are still around? Gotta exterminate those thieves.'
'By your command!'
Dwarves went extinct.
'Dragons? Annoying.'
'Yes sir!'
Dragons went extinct.
'Heh heh, beastmen too—starting to grate. Filthy animals.'
'Yessir!'
Beastmen went extinct.
Continent left with only elves.
Horrified by the prophetic nightmare, Lione gasped.
“Eek...!”
This wouldn't do.
'Even for you, that's too much, Enoch...!'
Lione squeezed her eyes shut.
She had to scold him sternly somehow, but she couldn't.
She was beyond disciplining Enoch already.
How do you scold such a cute kid...!
Of course, she knew that was wrong.
Spoiling him rotten would ruin him.
“Grr...!”
Lione steeled herself.
Then—bam—! The workshop door flew open.
“Hey! Look! Done! This is a dwarf-made weapon, punk!”
“Lirum!”
“Huh?”
“Help me out!”
Lione requested proxy discipline from Lirum.
“What, suddenly wh—.”