Heaven-Shaking Bow
'Look at this guy. Staring me down without a shred of fear... and talking about harvesting materials from ancestral armaments? It reeks of him gunning for the Ghost King's Tomb.'
Tuan eyed Adel with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
'To the desert folk, the ancestral armaments are objects of such awe that even approaching them fills one with dread.'
It was a thought no one else had dared entertain, and for a craftsman like him—who specialized in breaking down and reforging armaments—it was nothing short of intriguing.
"Hmph, kid. Bold thinking, but you think you're the first to come up with something like that?"
"I doubt it."
"Keh, ahem... W-well, anyway. I don't know how skilled you really are, but all that fancy talk, and in the end, you've got nothing to show for it."
He quickly schooled his expression and continued.
"The chest you brought was empty—no Supar inside—and you haven't even become Ulan's king. That unquenchable flame is interesting enough, but compared to the materials your father brought, it's nothing special."
Tuan ascended the stairs, beckoning Adel to follow.
Clack—
As he opened the hut's door, the biting cold gave way to a rush of warm air.
"Hoo..."
Adel finally exhaled the breath he'd been holding, enveloped by a soothing warmth.
"Is this it? The armament you're forging right now."
At the back of the hut stood a forge, where a single sword hung suspended by chains. Its dark blade wasn't sharpened yet, but up close, it radiated a sharpness that could slice through anything.
"Careful now. Those one-iron chains are suppressing its keen edge, but only for so long. You have to replace them with fresh ones every day, or it'll go berserk."
"Impressive."
"Damn right. That sword's got dragon scales—several of them, no less. Absurd materials, every one. But the true core of the armament still isn't ready."
Tuan spoke with overflowing confidence, his face alight with pride in his creation.
"Figures."
"Ulan's master gets to forge his own armament just once. And as you said, they pour the noblest treasure of their era into it."
He gazed at the sword.
"I'm curious what'll be the core of that blade. Ulan's current master is a hunter so great, he'd astonish even his ancestors."
"But it's surprising. Father's forging a sword, not a bow."
"He's already mastered the bow. Maybe he's turning his interest to swords."
"Hm, could be."
No one could say if Hien's choice to craft a sword—after devoting his life to archery—was mere whim or deeper ambition.
'In my past life, that sword was never completed.'
Adel felt a spark of anticipation at the chance to witness it in this life. The hurdles ahead loomed taller, but losing Hien to the Forgotten Ones was utterly unthinkable.
"You have Shan's heart, don't you?"
"How does a non-mage know that?"
"That armor you're wearing. Dragon's Gluttony is one peculiar artifact. Growing armaments aren't common."
Adel brushed lightly over his armor at the words.
"I don't know how a young pup like you slew a dragon, but don't get cocky. There are hunters far greater than you out there."
Adel smirked at Tuan's words. Tough talk, but the dwarf had a gentle side.
"I know. Father once lent me the Lion Bow for a mission. I saw firsthand how incredible the armaments forged here in the Ancestral Tomb are."
"Lion Bow? Ah, yes... My father made that one. Few artisans can inscribe blessings onto armaments."
"And you're one of them."
"Aye. That sword will be my masterpiece. I doubt I'll ever craft its equal again."
Tuan gestured to the forge.
"Truly a lavish blade. Fitting for the desert's conqueror—Father's poured every precious material into it."
Adel nodded.
Thud—
Thud—
Thud—
Adel strode toward Tuan's forge.
"C-careful...!"
Tuan shouted in alarm, but Adel's steps didn't falter.
Slash—!!
The moment he drew near, a sharp cut grazed Adel's cheek—the sword's rampant keen edge.
"Minotaur horn, vampire essence, demon spirit stones, spirit dust... Any one of those would elevate a blade to legendary status."
Hummm...
Astonishingly, as Adel's hand touched the sword, the raging edge fell still.
"But dumping in the best materials doesn't guarantee a great armament."
Cling...
Clang...
The sword trembled lightly, as if speaking to him, shaking the chains that bound it.
Shiiiing...
As Adel's fingertips slid along the dark blade, the frenzy subsided completely.
"Impossible. Demons, beasts, spirits, fairies... Powers from clashing races tangled up, unleashing uncontrolled edge... and you tame it in one go."
Tuan gaped, stunned that Adel had solved a puzzle he'd wrestled with for ages.
"Father hasn't found the sword's core not because he's holding out for something better, but because it's so damn hard to find."
Adel turned.
"Sometimes, one perfect material trumps them all. The finest ingredient for birthing an armament? Without doubt, the greatest God's Blessing."
"No way..."
"I haven't brought any materials—yet I carry what even Father couldn't: the most vital piece."
Tuan's eyes trembled.
"The rest are just base stuff to shape the vessel for that blessing."
As Adel withdrew his hand, the glowing runes on the blade faded.
"Can you still call that sword your masterpiece? What you truly want to forge is something else."
"...What?"
"You'll craft an armament worthy of housing the greatest god's blessing."
Tuan couldn't tear his eyes from Adel's face. Beside him, the weapon he'd poured his soul into suddenly seemed like cheap village smithy fare.
"You've realized it by now. Who stands at my side."
Gulp—
Tuan swallowed dryly without thinking.
"An ancient god..."
[You're an odd one too. Bearing the blood of the dwarf royals, yet holing up in this harsh pit.]
Tuan flinched involuntarily at the voice of the black wolf beside Adel.
[Though... maybe this forge suits armament crafting better than some burrow.]
Feeling the god's power in Kalderet's voice, Tuan bowed his head without realizing.
[No need for formalities now. With a high god dwelling in your forge, you don't need to bother.]
Tuan looked at Kalderet.
[You're weird enough, but Bulkanus takes the cake. A high god contracted to you? Makes the dwarf king look like a joke. What's your relation to him?]
"Distant kin, nothing more."
[A dwarf king without a god's blessing... No better than a pretty plum with no pit.]
He gave a wry smile.
[Still, the guy's stubborn. Probably holed up somewhere, hammering away even now.]
"Likely."
[If the chance comes, I'll pass on your regards. Tell him you're crafting armaments worthy of your blessing.]
"My thanks."
Tuan bowed deeply once more.
"What's your name?"
"Adel."
He nodded.
"I'll remember it. First time I've committed a non-king's name to memory."
Adel left Tuan with the exact words he'd once spoken upon contracting with Kalderet.
"Nothing to be surprised about. Everything we'll do from here on will be a first for you."
"Hm. Not bad."
Adel murmured low in satisfaction, gazing up the stairs toward the summit.
'Normally, it'd take passing fifteen more gates to reach the Ghost King's Tomb.'
Doors stood open at intervals along the stairs—those were the gates. They once held guardians like the ones below.
But the sentinels were gone now, and the wide-open gates seemed to welcome him straight to the tomb.
"Tuan must've pulled some strings."
Learning of Kalderet's presence, he'd clearly shut down all the stone statues guarding the Ancestral Tomb.
Thud—
Thud—
Thud—
Adel began ascending slowly.
"Hm."
At the first gate, atop the flat step at the stair's end, lay a single armament—a spear.
Longer than Adel was tall, its blade curved wickedly like a scythe.
"Dragon Spear Pelnid."
The spear said to slay even dragons in one strike. It was the treasured weapon of the Ulan king just before Hien.
"Thunder Sword Wiel."
Passing the altar and climbing farther, the next gate held a massive sword. Legend said lightning crashed from the heavens with every swing—the blade of Ulan's fourth king.
[Even through God's Eye, these are all superb armaments. And not just dwarves made them. That spear reeks of gnome craft, and the sword of elf work.]
"Right. Ulan's smiths changed with each king."
[Hm. So that's the Ancestral Tomb. Fascinating. A place to guard and forge the kings' armaments.]
As Kalderet said, each level held a different armament.
"Better not touch."
Adel warned as Kalderet edged toward one.
[Why?]
"Traps. Tuan cleared the guardians, but not entirely out of kindness. It's a test for me."
[Hm?]
"This place is precisely the kings' crypt. These armaments are like gravestones—replicas."
[Oh?]
"The real ones forged here, like the Lion Bow, are in the tribe's vault. These copies would still outshine royal treasures outside... but."
Adel continued.
"Touch one, and the traps trigger. The spirits of past kings awaken."
[Spirits, eh... That'd be a sight.]
"Wouldn't it?"
[...What?]
"That's why, if we're waking them, might as well wake the real deal."
[What do you mean?]
"All armaments made here are stored in the vault—except one. Even the mighty White Ghost couldn't claim it. So there's one genuine article amid the fakes."
[No way...]
"The master of the unclaimed epithet."
Adel reached the Ancestral Tomb's summit.
[...The Shadow King's bow.]
"Correct. Ulan's founding king. The Ghost King's armament."
Kalderet, following behind, stared at the massive bow embedded at the peak.
Unlike the hollow stone replicas below—which merely mimicked gravestones—this one housed a real bow. Its surface crawled with seals: shamans' spells, spirit formations, every barrier and ritual imaginable.
"Seals suppressing the bow's power. Tighter than a dragon's layered wards, I'd bet."
Adel stood atop the Ghost King's Tomb.
The bow resembled Hien's Geum-a in form, but where Geum-a bore golden runes, this gleamed with crimson ones.
"They say Father's Geum-a was modeled after this. Not just a mighty bow. It devours gods."
[...I remember. Hate to, but yes. That's the bow they used to seal me.]
Kalderet clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Heaven-Shaking Bow."
Thump—
Thump—
Thump—
Adel's heartbeat echoed softly as he gazed upon it.