Chapter 214
Chapter 214
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 214
Chapter Title: Star Crusher (3)
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Whoosh, crackle, whoosh, crackle—!!
He stokes the furnace. He heaps in a mound of coal, cranking the blaze until the air itself chokes on the heat. He pumps the bellows until his joints grind, stares into the inferno until his eyes burn. He waits until the iron lump, unmoved by hellfire, glows like a fresh-fallen meteorite before pulling it out.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Szzzzz...
He hammers it. Hammers with every ounce of strength. The cooling metal's cry in the chill air is like the scream of tortured steel. Even as his eardrums throb from the tearing wail, he doesn't stop. He crushes all pain with endurance, swinging until his shoulders threaten to tear free and his arm muscles burst.
Pssshhhh—!
He quenches it in cold water. Hauls the lump up with the hoist and inspects for flaws. Azure alloy, medium-hard ore, red iron, black iron... He's refined a mix that withstands a hundred quenchings without brittle fracture, but complacency is the enemy. Only after meticulously checking for cracks or weak spots does he repeat the process.
How long had he lost himself in this forge-trance?
Someone entered Gullak's smithy.
Creeeak, thud...
Pacing near the entrance, then heavy footsteps approaching the workshop: thud, thud.
It couldn't be the apprentices, his granddaughter, or family working the forge. They'd all evacuated to the refugee zone by the east gate. Which left only one possibility for the intruder.
Hummm, hummm, hummm...
Sure enough, a figure cloaked in luminous membrane appeared before the workshop: a Gospel Vessel.
And not just any Gospel Vessel. It was the culprit who spread the "gospel" in Delutana, turned his hounds into Elga's familiars and unleashed them on the streets—the physician with whom Gullak shared a long-standing grudge... Ramulek Volgaruis.
"...".
Yet Gullak didn't falter.
Clang! Clang!
Once his sworn enemy, recently an irritating thorn he'd forced himself to ignore, now perhaps the monster come to claim his life—standing right there, but Gullak didn't spare him a glance. He focused solely on shoveling coal into the furnace and heating the iron.
"Sit at the workbench and wait. No time to entertain guests right now. If you're thirsty, help yourself to what's in the leather flask up there."
"[......]"
Whether moved by the smith's composure or seeing him as prey already in its jaws... Ramulek surprisingly obeyed without fuss. Sat at the workbench and readily swigged from the flask.
Spitting it all out before even swallowing a sip.
"[Pfft, ptoo—!]"
Yellowish droplets splattered everywhere, filling the air with a rancid stench. Ramulek grimaced and retched.
"[Gahk, urk... keh, gahk... You filthy infidel worse than vermin... Why the hell would you keep rotten swill in a flask...?]".
"Heh heh heh... Not rotten sw booze—dog-milk liquor. Tastes just fine to my tongue. Seems it doesn't suit the refined palate of our 'envoy' lordship, raised on nothing but delicacies."
"[......!]"
No sooner had he heard not his current title of "physician," but his old one of "envoy"—
Hummmm—!
Ramulek's face twisted into a scowl. The luminous membrane began to flutter menacingly. Amid the reek of iron and heat, a brilliant killing intent seeped in.
Even in that state, he hadn't fully forgotten the old days. Gullak smirked, wrinkles deepening. Eyes still fixed on the iron lump, he reminisced on a past bitterer than the spoiled booze.
"Aye... Now I've got this fancy urban forge, watch my granddaughter's antics, living proper-like... But just half a year back, I was a wretched sight unfit for human eyes. After parting from family, I'd wasted decades in some backwater village like a living corpse..."
"[......]"
"Why? Blame some envoy bastard in that village. Times were lean, so I'd sent wife and kids ahead to the city. Then that scum seized my life's savings to chain me down—and bit off my heel to boot. Well, to be precise, not bit it off himself... Had one of his mongrels do it."
"[......]"
"Bastard had a nasty hobby: breeding wolf-dogs or whatever and tormenting underlings with 'em."
His limping steps toward the hoist. The hem of his flapping pants briefly revealed a deep, toothed scar.
"Anyway, back then... So wronged and furious I couldn't sleep a wink. One night, drowned in booze, I grabbed this hammer in a rage and crawled to the envoy's lair. Couldn't take the man himself, but smashing that mongrel's skull that turned my ankle to rags? That'd let me stretch this one leg in peace."
"[......]"
"But when I got to the kennel... Damn thing was nursing its pups. The hellhound that'd torn into my ankle like a demon from the pit, now lying all motherly, pups suckling at her belly... Heh heh heh..."
His laughter cracked like struck metal. Faded eyes flickered with rusted emotion.
"...How could a man kill a mother tending her young? Instead of smashing her head for her sins, I milked her teats. Felt guilty too—didn't even complain when I stole food from her litter."
"[......]"
"Brought it home, though. Couldn't toss it or eat it straight... So I fermented it into booze. Tasted decent enough, been drinking it since..."
Sssss, thunk—!
He cooled the iron lump and set it back on the anvil. Swung his familiar hammer. Glanced at the unwelcome guest by the bench and added,
"So worry not, envoy lordship. No plans to smash your head now."
"[......]"
"Though with you Elga-crazed, might not even understand me..."
The former envoy of old Lemtana, Ramulek, narrowed his eyes, flashing stark white glow.
Gullak fetched the metal rod for the haft—more like an uprooted pillar stump. Wedged it firmly into the hole in the lump, secured with layered fittings.
Then, one final time, he began hammering the lump.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"The grudges, regrets—solid as pig iron... Kept hammering, and bit by bit they wore away. Heh heh heh... Looking back, my life's much like shaping this metal."
"[......]"
"So many brutal hammerings... Burning so hot it'd shrivel your tear ducts, freezing so cold it'd curl your marrow... Days where shattering into useless scrap seemed inevitable..."
"[......]"
"But enduring every rough quenching, hobbling on one leg to reach here... I met the benefactor who restored what I'd lost, gained the resolve to forge steel harder than any lump..."
Kwa—clang!
A heavy final strike, closing long years.
"...It's done. My life's masterpiece—my existence, this old wretch's all, poured into steel I never let slip from my grip."
Gullak at last released the hammer.
His face aged a decade in an instant, wrinkles multiplying. In exchange, serene relief settled in his eyes. The forge's feverish heat from his artisan zeal cooled, dropping the temperature sharply.
As if waiting, Ramulek rose. Approached, thrust a paper forward threateningly.
"[Infidel, recite this 'gospel' with fervent heart. Your soul and flesh shall be saved from death's valley, draped in Elga's 'garment of light' as I am.]"
"...Sorry, but I'm illiterate. Can't make heads or tails of that squiggly script."
"[Then repeat after me. From the beginning, gazing upon this land and illuminating it, the rightful lord of all creation is solely Elga... ]"
"Truth is, I never planned to believe in some shiny false god. All my life, the forge was my temple, quenching my worship, hammer strikes my hymn..."
As his hand swept the honed metal, a blue flash erupted from his fingertips.
Whumm—!
"...Pity, Elga-fanatic lordship. This hammer-old-timer will bequeath his 'masterpiece' to his benefactor—and gladly martyr here."
Ramulek twitched, brow furrowing.
Then, as if chased, he frantically lashed his luminous membrane.
Slash—clang!
The hammer-old-timer's head flew. His frail body toppled onto the anvil; sticky blood flowed, soaking the hammer at his feet.
But too late. The blue flash from his fingertips didn't fade. No—it blazed brighter, swelling enormously.
Whumm, whumm, whumm, whumm—!!
―――― Rummmble...
The ceiling resonated deeply. Embers flickered in the furnace; ripples danced on the quench-water. Amid blooming azure radiance, the afterimage of a bearded giant appeared. As he swung his hammer down, a brilliant explosion burst over the metal.
―――― Kwarung—!
The giant's afterimage vanished, having imprinted something inexplicable.
What had happened was clear.
A miracle from a god other than Elga, manifested by that will reaching the heavens.
"[Such blasphemy... This heretic deserves the deepest hell-pit!!!]"
The Gospel Vessel roared in fury, wildly flailing its luminous membrane.
Slash-crash—! Slash-crash—! Slash-crash-crash—!
Yet despite shattering the anvil, gouging the floor, collapsing the ceiling in one go—
Not a speck of mar on the hammer-old-timer's 'masterpiece', finer than iron dust.
*
Kadim and Duncan gazed up at Delutana's firmly shut south gate from beyond the frozen moat.
"...".
"...".
Duncan shouted once more, just in case.
"Hey, anyone there?! Just travelers passing through—could you lower the gate?!"
The response was some distant, eerie noise echoing faintly.
'......Aaaahhh......'
'......Haaaah, aaaahhh......'
"...".
Not the cry of guards rushing to drop the drawbridge.
After dashing so hard to reach Delutana, only to be blocked at the doorstep. Shadows clouded their faces.
Curfew? Sun was high noon. Wartime lockdown? No guards in sight. Gate sealed? Fresh footprints everywhere. And those unidentified screams... Only one conclusion.
Something grave had befallen Delutana.
"...Whew."
Few would solve a blocked gate by smashing it—but perhaps because he'd seen it once before, Duncan sensed from the barbarian's twitching glare that the gate would shred like paper.
Just the method differed from last time.
That prior culprit was "Agon's Furious Horn." He'd charged wrapped in yellowish mist, smashed the demon-held city's gate with a massive black battle-axe.
This time: no mist, no charge, no axe, no cleave.
Just a leap over the moat, then a hearty kick.
―――― Kwa—clang!!!
The arm-thick plywood shattered outright. The lower half caved in; splintered grain burst forth. The destabilized upper drawbridge buckled downward, spectacularly crashing into the moat.
―――――――― Pkwashhhh—!!
Shattering ice, surging spray, bubbling debris surfacing sporadically.
Delutana's outer south gate, untouched by foes till now... Pulverized by a single kick, like a commoner's door.
Kwa-drudududuk—!
Kadim then ripped the iron bars behind by hand like dry twigs. Before kick-smashing the inner gate too, he glanced back across the moat as if it just occurred to him.
"Hurry over, Duncan. Should be crossable stepping on gate shards."
"...".
Duncan stared in bewilderment at that living siege engine, mightier than any catapult.