Chapter 156: The Story the Music Box Tells (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 156: The Story the Music Box Tells (1)
After a month-long journey, we returned to the underground city of Doomheim.
To me, who had been shivering in the cold, it felt like coming home. The searing heat from the city-wide forges and the rhythmic sound of hammering felt wonderfully familiar.
Halgran, his hammer slung over his shoulder, turned with his dwarven subordinates and headed toward the Heart of Magmora.
“We’ll part ways here. Go and get some rest, Princess. And Perka, you’d better have a good explanation for Halgran.”
“Ugh, I don’t wanna go back…”
“If you do what you want, you have to take responsibility. You little brat.”
For once, Halgran spoke sternly, siding with Thorvar. Perka hung her head, pouting like a child.
Halgran didn’t forget to shoot me a glare before he left.
We headed straight home without any detours. Thorvar wasn’t there.
“Father spends most of his days at the forge. He won’t be back until nightfall.”
It was to ensure the embers of the forge never went out, no matter what. A sacred duty passed down through generations of Meisters, the Keepers of the Embers.
Even when I was in Doomheim before, he had gone to work every single day without fail.
“Well, we need to unpack anyway, and we must be tired from the journey. Let’s just rest until he gets back.”
We unpacked our things and had a simple meal. Without bothering one another, we each recovered from the fatigue of our travels in our own way.
The sound of metal being struck echoed from the smithy.
It was like a child trembling in dread on the way home after their mother says, ‘Just you wait until we get home.’ Perka must have felt exactly like that.
Her mind was surely in turmoil at the thought of facing Thorvar when he returned. It seemed she was forcing herself to hammer away at the iron to steady her nerves.
And then there was Azyeth.
She sat on the sofa, her knees drawn up to her chest and hugged by her arms, staring intently at me.
When my head moved, hers followed. When I changed my position, she changed hers too, settling directly across from me.
Her blue eyes were wide and bright, never leaving me for a moment.
“Is something wrong?”
“Wrong…?”
“You keep staring at me.”
“You don’t… like it?”
“That’s not it.”
Having such a beautiful girl fill my vision was a feast for the eyes. I was just a little bothered by how sudden it was.
“I just… wanted to… look at you…?”
“…”
Azyeth’s words left me momentarily speechless.
I never thought Azyeth, of all people, would say something like that.
Do women learn how to bewitch men even when they have no memories or emotions?
What a sly woman.
With looks like hers, a line like that was cheating.
Well, she probably didn’t mean anything deep by it.
It was likely a form of imprinting, like a newborn chick recognizing the first thing it sees as its parent. She probably just didn’t want me out of her sight.
I decided not to think too deeply about it.
Thorvar returned late, when night had fallen and the city’s luminous stones had shifted to a dim indigo, and the sounds of hammering had ceased.
“It feels like it’s been a while, sir. Did everything go well while we were away?”
“Aye. With all you noisy ones gone, I thought I was on vacation.”
Thorvar showed no sign of surprise at our sudden appearance after a month, jesting naturally.
He must have seen the lights on when everyone else was asleep and guessed that the troublemakers had returned.
His gaze swept over each of us before finally landing on Perka. Unlike the brief glances he’d given the rest of us, his eyes lingered on her for a long time.
“You still haven’t learned your lesson after being kidnapped last time. Couldn’t you wait, running off without permission?”
“You wouldn’t have given me permission even if I asked. If you had, I wouldn’t have had to sneak out.”
Perka shot back defiantly.
Still, she must have felt a sliver of guilt, as she lowered her gaze to the floor like a child wary of a parent’s scolding.
Though I wasn’t in her shoes, I was certain she was analyzing the patterns on the floorboards.
Thorvar looked at Perka with a complicated expression before letting out a heavy sigh. As if he was done with her, he turned his gaze to me.
“Did you bring the item I mentioned?”
“Of course.”
I handed the Lazurite to Thorvar. He held it up to the luminous stone installed in the ceiling.
“This is unmistakably Lazurite. And the purity is incredibly high. I’ve never seen such a high-quality piece in my entire life. To think you obtained something like this…”
“I was lucky.”
“…Aye. You were very lucky indeed. A Lazurite of this quality will certainly be a great help in controlling the princess’s cold. What form do you want it in?”
“I was thinking of a pendant.”
Thorvar nodded as if it were the right decision.
A pendant’s form was closest to the heart, making it the most suitable for controlling Azyeth’s cold. In the original story, bringing the Lazurite would automatically result in a pendant.
“Understood. I was thinking of a pendant myself, so I have one already prepared. I’ll let you know when the gem is set.”
“Thank you. And I have one more thing to ask of you.”
I handed him the music box.
Thorvar examined it with a curious eye.
“This is… a music box. A very exquisitely crafted one. Where did you get this?”
“It was inside the belly of a demonic beast called the Crystal Serpent. It’s an old royal treasure.”
When I wound the music box, a grating noise came out.
“It’s broken. I take it you brought it to me to fix?”
“You got it. My girl here desperately wants it.”
At my words, Thorvar looked at Azyeth.
“Thorvar. Can you… fix… it…?”
“…You’ve changed. Something must have happened over there, eh?”
“Maybe…?”
As expected of one of the seven dwarfs, he noticed the change in Azyeth with uncanny perception.
It was inevitable that a dwarf would help the princess, so Thorvar accepted Azyeth’s request without a moment’s hesitation.
“Alright. I’ll fix this too.”
“You can…?”
“Of course. There isn’t an ornament in this world I can’t fix. I’ll make it good as new.”
“Thank… you…”
Watching their conversation, I casually tossed a comment to Perka, who was standing a step behind me—words she would die to hear.
“He truly is a Meister blacksmith, isn’t he? Unlike you, Perka, who seemed to hesitate.”
“…I was on the fence because of what happened recently, but you really are a nasty piece of work, Karami. You shouldn’t poke at people’s weaknesses.”
“It’s a merchant’s habit. When you poke a person’s weakness, they jump and reveal an even bigger one. You should try it sometime, Perka.”
“Karami, do you have any idea how much of a jackass you sound right now?”
“Insults from you, Perka. A rare delicacy. Delicious.”
“…You perverted merchant.”
*
“Try it on. Tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”
It was the very next day.
Thorvar brought the finished pendant.
Blue and white were elegantly intertwined, with the Lazurite embedded in the center. The pendant was a perfect match for the game item, Frost Heart.
“Here. Sit down and turn around.”
Karami stood behind Azyeth, who was seated on the sofa. He brushed aside her hair, which was like blue-white silk, revealing the pure white, slender nape of her neck.
He carefully fastened the pendant around that innocent neck, which was enough to stir a man’s baser instincts.
The moment he did, a pulse of blue light shimmered, gently enveloping Azyeth before fading away.
The change was palpable.
The intensity of the cold radiating from Azyeth had decreased dramatically.
Before, one had to wear layers of clothing just to approach her, and physical contact was only possible with special dwarven-made equipment.
If she was like cold dry ice before, now she was just ice. At this level, she could live a normal life without any issues.
“How about you, Azyeth? Do you feel any different?”
“…”
Azyeth silently examined her body and her surroundings.
She walked around the house, touching various objects.
The sensation on her fingertips was no longer a freezing touch but a gentle lingering, and what stirred in her heart was not frost but a faint warmth.
An unfamiliar feeling.
As the cold receded, warmth greeted Azyeth, introducing itself to her.
It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. It felt as if a long-forgotten memory was surfacing, a feeling reawakening in a corner of her heart.
For the first time, warmth, which had been nothing more than an abstract concept to Azyeth, stayed by her side.
Azyeth clutched the pendant.
As she thought of the woman who had given her this gem, her hand tightened.
“It seems to have worked out well.”
“It seems so. I’m relieved.”
Thorvar, nodding in satisfaction at the result, handed over the other item. It was the music box.
“You’ve fixed it already?”
“It was nothing.”
He had only been given the music box yesterday. Even Karami couldn’t help but be surprised. It was to the point that, for the first time, he felt the desire to enslave a man.
“Perfect timing. Azyeth, let’s go up to your room.”
“…Hm?”
“Aren’t you curious? About what this music box is.”
The identity of the music box, and its story, which even Darka, who had asked for its retrieval, had forgotten. Karami knew it all.
Azyeth’s answer came immediately.
“I’m curious.”
I want to hear it.
I want to know.
Because it felt like she had to.
“Good. Shall we listen, then? To the song the music box plays. To its story.”