A Golden Opportunity
Come to think of it, there was that incident.
About two and a half months ago, during a skirmish with a necromancer in the sewers, I'd replicated a greatsword with my ability to tear through his barrier and swung it at him. That necromancer had definitely said... 'No way, a minion of the Forge of All Things?' while looking at me.
And now.
"No way a human who's not even a dwarf is wielding the blessing of the Forge of All Things... I've heard he sometimes bestows it on other races, but still..."
Unlike the one I'd fought, Brina had taken down the other two ordinary evolved beings. She stared at the black iron sword in my hand with a look of wonder.
I'm just as surprised myself...
Seeing Brina's manifestation ability at first, I'd mistaken it for my own replication power. But I never imagined she'd mistake my replication for manifestation.
"And this manifestation rate...! That's not your average blessing. Is it the highest-tier one I've only heard about? The proficiency level looks insane too."
"Um..."
I debated whether to correct her misunderstanding or roll with it, but Brina ignored me completely, peering intently at the black iron sword in my grip.
If this kept up, she might realize it was a perfect copy of the original. In a panic, I quickly dispelled the replication.
After a moment's thought...
"...Yeah. Looks like the power I have is manifestation after all."
I decided to bullshit my way through it.
"I see... So one day you suddenly got this special power, thought it was some weird ability and kept it hidden, but when you saw me using manifestation, you were shocked to realize you weren't the only one?"
I leaned into Brina's misunderstanding, claiming my replication ability was actually manifestation. She'd already seen it, so I had to explain somehow anyway—and this seemed like it would fly better than some half-assed excuse.
"Got a dwarf in your ancestry? Or... have you ever held a hammer?"
"No. Never."
Luckily, my hasty fabrication worked better than expected on Brina. If anything, now that she thought I could use manifestation, her attitude toward me softened even more, turning oddly friendly.
"Hm. I don't know why the Forge of All Things bestowed his power on you... but it must be for a reason."
Convinced my ability was true manifestation, Brina didn't pry into how I'd gotten it. She just chalked it up to the will of the god all dwarves revered, refusing to doubt it.
Lucky break.
It was a rushed lie, and if she'd grilled me too hard, inconsistencies might've slipped—like how my power differed from real manifestation. Dodged a bullet.
And at the same time... I realized I could milk this misunderstanding.
I've been hiding my ability all this time.
Replication was my ace in the hole, the lifeline that saved me in crises. But I'd rarely used it in real combat to keep it secret from others.
It was bound to get out eventually anyway.
Even if I'd hidden it so far, my gut told me it'd leak someday. Just recently with that variant ogre, I'd been forced to use it in a pinch, right?
Instinct said more crises lay ahead, and clearing them all without replication was overly optimistic. Same for keeping the ability hidden forever.
But...
If I play this misunderstanding right, at least replicating weapons won't be a problem if it gets exposed—I can pass it off as manifestation.
Right now, in Brina's eyes, I'd found my loophole. If even a real dwarf with manifestation mistook my power for hers, I could lie to anyone else the same way.
"You looked shocked when I manifested earlier. Makes sense now, huh?"
My bullshit had landed perfectly. With her newfound friendliness, Brina patted my shoulder sympathetically.
"Don't worry. It might feel foreign as a human, but the Forge of All Things is a great god. There's a reason he blessed you."
No—had it worked too well? I'd spun a tale about agonizing over my "unique" power since it appeared, and now she was comforting me.
A twinge of guilt hit me; I averted my eyes and headed to the fallen foes.
"Let's deal with these guys first."
"Right! Gotta harvest the materials."
Thankfully, Brina's focus shifted from my ability to the loot—apparently more pressing than whatever power I had.
Manifesting a small pickaxe, chisel, and tongs, she turned to me like she'd just remembered something.
"Hey, wanna try? If you manifest small tools like these..."
"N-No... I'm good. Not confident I'd harvest 'em right..."
"Fair. You scream total noob."
She suggested I try manifesting again during the process, which spooked me, but Brina let it slide.
Next time, I gotta stock up on iron tools, raise my understanding, and practice.
"But why'd this one suddenly get sliced with a sword? You were using a pickaxe till then."
As I plotted how to disguise replication as manifestation, Brina—who'd already finished looting her two—poked at the evolved being with my black iron sword still embedded in it.
"Uh... practicing swordsmanship... trying to cleave its rocky body as training..."
"...Pfft! And you failed hard?"
"..."
Now treating me like a close buddy, Brina burst out laughing and teased me mercilessly.
Wait, weren't we getting too chummy all of a sudden?
Tch. My gut said it'd work out fine.
The situation had resolved well in the end, but my instincts failed me, leading to an unexpected crisis and exposing my replication anyway.
Too reliant on gut feelings? Lately, they'd gotten me out of so many jams that I'd started over-trusting them without thinking.
Swinging a sword at a damn rock golem on a hunch it'd succeed...
"I saw no mana on the blade earlier. I'm no sword expert, but even I've heard only B-rank or higher can cleave rock bare like that...?"
Teasing me like an old friend, Brina suddenly stopped. Her expression turned ambiguous as she examined the evolved being's skin where the black iron sword was half-buried.
"What's up?"
Wondering if something was wrong, I paused and approached. Brina relaxed her face and pointed at the sword in its hide.
"The blade's chipped."
"Guh."
Yanking out the black iron sword in a fluster, I saw it: the edge was nicked, faint cracks spiderwebbing the flat.
It had pierced variant ogre hide unscathed! Damn it. I was regretting it already, but now even more so.
Why'd I do that? I never swing wildly like an idiot...
While Yuseong grumbled to himself, Brina turned back to the evolved being. More precisely, to the slit skin where the black iron sword had halted.
...Mithril.
Staring at the tiny amount—maybe accidentally ingested by the evolved being during evolution. Half-digested, its form and properties were bizarrely warped, unusable for recycling. But it retained some of mithril's legendary hardness.
And on that mithril fragment.
-Crack...
A fine sword cut marred it.
Cut mithril without mana sword?
No, not pure mithril—degraded by digestion as evolutionary fuel, fused halfway with flesh. Still...
The mutated mithril was half-severed.
The backlash had chipped the sword slightly and torn his hand, but...
...Does the Forge of All Things favor talented swordsmen too?
She'd heard he liked those who wielded crafted arms well... Was that why he blessed him?
Unthinkingly gazing at the sword mark on the half-cleaved mithril, Brina felt a shiver at the talent of the man she'd casually welcomed as a guest.
Maybe... she'd hosted a future powerhouse beyond imagination.
But that was that.
"Argh, how wildly did you swing to chip the blade like this?!"
For now, she opted to nag Yuseong over the damaged weapon rather than mention it.
From a dwarf's view, talent or not, anyone who couldn't care for their gear deserved a scolding.
"Phew..."
After safely exiting the tunnel and returning to the city, I got chased out by Brina—arms full of materials, told to come back tomorrow for armor design.
She'd lectured me over a hundred times about properly maintaining my weapon, too.
At least she's fixing it for free as service...
Not just nagging—she'd taken the black iron sword to repair it. Without my usual sidearm, I felt oddly light-headed returning to the inn.
Turned out better than expected.
A few surprises, but against the odds, everything went smoothly today. Commissioned the armor cheaper than planned, encountered Beast of the End followers in the mine but repelled them—turning them into materials, even.
...Using people as materials felt iffy, evil god cultists or not.
Brina insisted they were just rock residue clumps from their evolution leftovers, fine to use.
And... I'd exposed replication in front of someone for the first time, but gained a solid cover story.
I glossed over it then, but the more I think, the better an alibi it is.
If even a dwarf with eagle eyes like hers bought it, ordinary folk wouldn't suspect a thing.
Leverage this right, and I could use replication for weapons in combat without worry.
Of course, no replicating living beings, undead, food, etc.—those stay hidden.
Since I'm passing it off as manifestation anyway, while in the Steel Fortress, I should research it thoroughly. Gotta make the lie convincing.
Who knows? I don't even know my power's origin—maybe the Forge of All Things did grant it.
Of all gods, he's the closest match—ruling creation and forging.
I'll check their temple later.
For now...
"Kir? You there?"
After today's grind, time to rest. I'd planned some sightseeing and fun in the Steel Fortress, but mining derailed that—no real downtime.
Kir wanted to hang out here too...
"Heard the beer's killer here—wanna grab some...? Kir?"
Heading to her room with those thoughts, I knocked. No answer.
Flustered, the innkeeper cleaning the hall came over and spilled.
"What, looking for your girlfriend? That beastkin girl said if a human guest came asking, tell him she had business tonight and stepped out."
"Ah..."
Seems Kir was enjoying the Steel Fortress her way. I'd hoped for drinks, but felt a pang—then my eyes lit up.
Wait. If Kir's out...
This inn's soundproofing sucked, which I'd held off on something for. Now's the chance?
"How 'bout it? Beer alone? Dwarven brew's the best."
"No, I'm good!"
Brushing off the innkeeper's offer, I bolted to my room.
Mine was just two doors from Kir's. Anything here, her cat ears would pick up easy.
Rivil's inn had decent soundproofing for beastkin senses, but not here.
Even there, if Kir amped senses with mana, she'd hear—but she's not some perv eavesdropping...
Anyway, not the point.
Blame this inn's crap insulation—I'd avoided replication here for two days. But opportunity knocked.
Saw the maid clean next door earlier—empty.
Perfect chance.
-Click. Door locked.
Just in case, eyes closed, I focused—sensing for presences. Next door: empty.
Drinking crowd below made some noise; my sounds wouldn't leak much.
Good.
All set. Hand into sub-space, I pulled out my prep.
-Swish~
In my palm: strands of gray fur scraps. Collected daily from our shared tent mornings, plus strays on my clothes—hoarded steadily.
Ready.
No hesitation. I activated my power.
Replication.