Commission (3)
In the end, the name of our inn was settled as the Canyon Inn.
“……”
“……”
Eliona and Riaen had decorated the signboard as splendidly as they could, yet their expressions made it clear they were still unsatisfied.
No matter how much effort they put into the flourishes, there was only so much you could do with a plain name like Canyon Inn.
“Is a name really that important?”
“Apparently it is, to humans.”
“Hmm….”
The dragons, on the other hand, looked at the two of them as if they simply could not understand the fuss.
Grace, Rain, and Silver.
All of them bore the sort of ordinary names you could find anywhere in this world.
Dragons, it seemed, preferred names that were simple and unpretentious.
“Ah, right. Master?”
I was admiring the finished sign hanging over the inn’s entrance when Silver called out to me as if something had just occurred to her.
“What is it?”
“I finally managed to make a proper sword.”
…I understood at once what she meant.
For the past week, Silver had spent nearly every waking hour in the forge.
The forge was now Level 4, and naturally Silver’s employee level had risen to 4 as well.
Each time her level went up, I had chosen the option that improved the quality of whatever she finished in the forge.
Until now that option had never actually triggered, but…
“Ta-da!”
The sword she produced was nothing like the defective pieces from before. Even to my untrained eye, it looked like a real weapon.
“Oh….”
“It’s not quite a masterpiece, but it still seems far better than anything a normal blacksmith would turn out.”
“The edge is properly honed… I’d have to hold it myself to judge the rest, but yeah, this is a well-made sword.”
Ah, of course…
“If you just stabbed this into a monster like a wyvern, it would definitely snap or bend.”
“I know. It’s only ordinary iron.”
It was a fine sword, yet the dragons clearly saw its limitations as obvious.
“…Even a famous blade can’t pierce a wyvern’s scales without aura wrapped around it, can it?”
Riaen muttered the words with a look of pure disbelief at the dragons’ conversation.
“…Is that so?”
“No? About two hundred years ago I picked up a sword at an auction. It wasn’t a famous blade, yet it still punched straight through wyvern scales.”
“Wasn’t that just because you were the one holding it, Sister?”
“No. The auctioneer demonstrated it himself by driving the sword into a dead wyvern’s scale.”
As she spoke, Silver rummaged through her subspace storage and pulled out a rough-looking blade.
“This one.”
“…That’s a dwarven sword, Sister Silver.”
Eliona sighed as she said it.
According to Grace and Rain’s knowledge, even the mass-produced swords dwarves made were superior to most famous blades of other races.
Dwarves, huh…
A staple race in fantasy stories, famous for their smithing skill and their love of drink.
Apparently the reputation was much the same in this world.
Still, claiming that a dwarven mass-production sword outclassed another race’s masterpiece felt a little extreme.
“…Even a mass-produced dwarven sword is treated as a famous blade in human kingdoms.”
At any rate.
Silver had managed to forge a respectable sword, even if it fell short of masterpiece quality.
“Haa… To think I can make a sword of this caliber now….”
She murmured the words with a look of pure rapture.
Was it really that wonderful?
“Oh, this is nice. I’d have to cut a monster with it to be sure, but it feels like it would have a good bite.”
“Sister, let me try it too.”
The sword Silver had made passed in turn through the hands of Rain, Grace, Eliona, and Riaen.
Each of them seemed to know their way around a blade; they gave it a few experimental swings in their own styles and, from that alone, declared the sword to be in excellent condition.
“You should hold it as well, Master.”
“Hm? Sure.”
I took the sword from Riaen without much thought.
Judging by how the others had gripped it… was this the right way?
“Hm?”
“Oh? Master, did you just grasp some profound truth simply by holding the sword?”
When I flinched in surprise, Rain asked the question with exaggerated excitement.
“No, nothing like that.”
I carried the sword over to the counter for a moment.
Then I opened the inn management interface and placed the sword inside it.
“?”
“?”
“?”
“…You could put items in there too?”
“I only just found out myself.”
As I spoke, I dragged the Inn Tokens from one corner of the interface and dropped them onto the sword.
At once…
Current Enhancement Level:+0
Success Rate:100%
Penalty on Failure:None
Required Materials:10 Inn Tokens
The message floated up as if it were practically begging me to enhance the weapon.
“…So this is what the Inn Tokens are for?”
“I doubt enhancement is the only use. If that were all they did, they’d be called something like Enhancement Stones instead of Inn Tokens.”
I glanced at Silver as I spoke, and found her already pulling a famous blade from her subspace storage.
“?”
She held the sword out to me, scabbard and all, and bowed her head deeply.
“That is….”
“If Master will grant my request, I swear my loyalty to you until this sword shatters and my soul is extinguished.”
If you wish it, I will even enter into a Dragon’s Contract under the same terms as Grace and Rain.
So please…
“I beg you—enhance the sword I forged…!”
“……”
“……”
“……”
According to the knowledge that rose unbidden in my mind, offering a sword still in its scabbard was the highest courtesy a knight could show.
To entrust your blade to another meant you were willing to let them kill you with it if they so chose.
…And Silver was observing that very formality while asking me to enhance the sword she had made.
She’s even staking a Dragon’s Contract on this?
Under the same terms as Grace and Rain, that would mean offering me both body and soul.
To enhance this sword, she was ready to give me everything she was….
“Please!”
“All right. All right, I get it….”
And in that moment I realized something.
The instant Silver proposed the contract and I agreed…
Ah…
A Dragon’s Contract had been sealed between Silver and me.
At least I didn’t pass out this time.
That was only natural.
With Grace and Rain, the contract had consumed mana to restore their ruined bodies, and the backlash had knocked me unconscious.
Silver’s body, however, was perfectly fine. There was nothing to heal, so I stayed on my feet.
“Haa… Whatever.”
For now I spent every Inn Token I had enhancing the sword Silver had forged.
Even “every token” wasn’t many, so the process stopped at +3.
“Here. Take it.”
Silver accepted the sword with trembling hands.
“Ow.”
“Sorry—are you all right?”
In the act of taking it, the edge had apparently nicked her hand.
“Huh… Even with Silver holding back her strength, it still cut her fingertip?”
“Just touching it is enough to wound a dragon’s hand… and this is only three enhancements?”
“Yeah.”
Each enhancement had randomly attached an option.
First came Sharpness +10%, then Durability +10%, and finally Penetration Rate +10%.
I figured the penetration option was what allowed it to injure even a dragon like Silver.
“That’s terrifying….”
“Hmm… I’ve heard of weapons that ignore defenses a few times before.”
“Well… a god might have made one, or maybe a transmigrator like Master.”
So the ability was rare, but not unheard of.
“…Master. If possible, could you keep enhancing it whenever more tokens appear?”
Even now, Silver already wanted to push the strengthened sword even further.
Well…
“Until other uses for the tokens show up, sure.”
I suspected that once the inn’s level rose, the tokens would gain more applications.
“Understood. In that case….”
“Ah—and don’t go forcibly dragging that dragon who visited last time back here just to dump commissions on him.”
“……”
Silver’s mouth snapped shut at my words.
So she really had been planning to haul him in by force.
Take it slow.
Grace’s father and the dragons who had heard his stories already came by regularly to clear commissions anyway.
“Hm?”
Come to think of it, something felt odd.
“Those dragons never seemed surprised when their lifespan increased or a jewel appeared in their hand as a reward after finishing a commission.”
“Is that strange?”
“?”
Riaen looked at me as if I were the strange one.
“Quest boards at the Adventurers’ Guild or Mercenary Guild usually have magic like that cast on them. When you complete a commission, the reward is delivered directly to the person who finished it… Otherwise the guild staff might just pocket whatever the client left, right?”
“I… see?”
Well, if magic existed, that sort of system didn’t sound particularly odd.
“That’s only for high-rank commissions. Low-rank ones don’t even bother with paper, let alone magic—it’s too expensive.”
“From what Father said, the commission board here also seems to mix in magic that reads what you desire and a light mental suggestion that erases suspicion. Though Father and the other dragons appear to have resisted it.”
Which meant that even if non-dragons came and took commissions, they probably wouldn’t find anything strange about the process.
That was a relief, at least.
I had been thinking of handing commissions to the orc mercenary band once they arrived.
Ah, right. That old wyvern hunter… and last time the pope said he would establish a branch of the Restwin Church here. I can give commissions to the people who come to work at that branch as well.
The old wyvern hunter looked like he could clear any commission with ease, and as for the Restwin clergy… I didn’t know the church’s overall strength, but anyone dispatched all the way out here would certainly possess enough power of their own.
“Well, we can think about that when the time comes.”
Rain spoke while glancing toward the inn’s entrance.
If she was looking that way… a guest?
“Yes, a guest.”
Yet the expression on Rain’s face as she said it was not pleasant.
More precisely, she looked openly displeased.
“Ah, did that person show up? The old wyvern hunter?”
“No. Not that human.”
Really?
Then who on earth had arrived to put that look on her face?
While I was still wondering, the inn door opened.
“…So you were here.”
The being that stepped through the open door was no human.
It looked nothing like a human at all.
Yet it walked upright on two legs, clad in armor, and entered the inn just the same.
The figure looked at me, bowed its head in greeting, and spoke.
“Greetings, current master of the Dragon Vein.”
I am Sarluk, a Lizardman—former Guardian of the Dragon Vein, and presently unemployed.