Chapter 66
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Chicken?
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Chicken?
In one corner of the Hero's Forest commercial district stood a massive forge carved straight out of an entire small hill.
Enormous chimneys riddled with holes like ancient trees belched ceaseless pitch-black smoke, while the harsh clamor of hammers pounding steel echoed relentlessly—a veritable mountain of iron.
The sanctuary of blacksmiths, consecrated by Hephaestus himself, throbbed like a heart pulsing endlessly with fire and steel.
-Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Passing through the entrance shaped like a giant's gaping maw, the thunderous roar of hammers striking metal assaulted the ears, accompanied by a blistering wave of heat slapping against the face.
"Whoa..."
Right upon entering, a colossal furnace dominated the view.
Crimson flames roared with lifelike intensity, melting lumps of metal in an instant.
And the blacksmiths, undaunted by the blaze, hammered away furiously, filling the forge with frantic activity.
"Hm... over there?"
"What?! We're busy—talk later!"
"Hey! What're you doing over there! Making snacks for the wine or what!"
"Get your head in the game!"
I grabbed one of the passing blacksmiths to ask about my business, but he snapped irritably and stormed off. In response, booming voices shook the entire forge.
What kind of throats do these guys even have?
"Ah, a customer, huh? Sorry about that."
A massive shadow fell over me as I stood there dumbfounded, followed by a gravelly voice like grinding metal greeting me.
"Are you the one in charge here?"
"Eh, more or less?"
The man shrugged as if he hated long-winded talk, then scanned me up and down before clapping his hands with recognition.
"Aha! You're that newbie Dianes, right?!"
"Yeah, that's me."
He was a head shorter than me.
He looked about forty or fifty, but his head was shaved bald, gleaming under the firelight.
Oh man, and he's still young...
"Hey, the forge flames singed it, so I just shaved it all off. Don't give me that look."
"Ah, yeah, sure..."
"I'm serious!"
The man bellowed in defense of his bald pate, putting his all into it, but I received his tragic plea with warm sympathy.
As the young master said, bald jokes, pad jokes, hairline jabs—you hurl them even at your mortal enemies.
I couldn't help but lower my tone in the face of that familiar dread.
Anyway, setting aside the baldness, the man looked like he'd been sculpted from the ideal image of a blacksmith.
Arms that could crush boulders, stamina that didn't break a sweat in this inferno, and deep gray eyes that appraised me like he was evaluating a weapon—even after getting heated over the bald joke.
He exuded the exact same vibe as the eccentric master craftsmen I'd met before.
"Ah, damn. You heroes these days... Whatever, what do you want? Custom weapon? Pick one from these first."
"No, I'm..."
"Ah, forget it. Grab something that fits roughly, test it out, and order a custom one later."
I hear you went toe-to-toe with that old coot Chiron using spears. Going with a spear?
"Like I said, I'm..."
"Don't like spears? Hyperborean spear arts are different from Greek styles—supposedly masterful for solo use. Sword then?"
He even had that trait of ignoring others and rambling on about his own stuff.
Were all master craftsmen and experts like this?
"What sword you using? The trendy ones these days are..."
"I'm. Not. Here. For. A. Weapon."
"...What?"
I cut him off sharply in a clipped tone, and the man froze, eyes widening in surprise as he stared at me.
"Let's start with introductions. As you said, I'm Dianes, a newbie who's been in the forest less than a week."
"Yeah, newbie. The stuff you've pulled off is insanely huge, though."
Grinning playfully, he thumped his chest with his fist.
"Son of Hephaestus, prized disciple of the Cyclopes, master smith handling all iron and metal in the Hero's Forest—Hestusias. Pleased to meet a new member of the forest."
Where had that casual slob from earlier gone?
Hestusias introduced himself with solemn gravity.
When he mentioned his father Hephaestus and masters the Cyclopes, his murky gray eyes gleamed with fierce reverence and ambition, giving a clear sense of what those god-smiths and teachers meant to him.
"Anyway, if it's not a weapon, what then? Armor?"
Of course, that solemnity and respect vanished in a flash, reverting him to the gruff middle-aged uncle.
Judging from the forge's chaos, he seemed the only one who'd listen anyway, so I decided to just go for it.
"What I want made is one instrument."
"Instrument? You mean... music?"
Hm?
Up till now, he'd been yapping endlessly like a catalog parrot about spears this and swords that, so I'd figured he'd balk.
But Hestusias showed a flicker of genuine interest in my request.
Though it was fleeting—he switched back to his casual slouch, jerking his chin toward the outside.
"Look, for instruments, go see old lady Siprenias at her music shop over there. What kinda instrument you forging here..."
"Because no ordinary music shop could even design it, let alone craft it."
"...Oh?"
Unlike with weapons earlier, Hestusias's interest visibly spiked at my words.
"I don't know where you heard, but you've caught wind that I'm from a foreign land. Makes this easier."
Manghyang Gwieum (Nostalgic Ghostly Melody)
The legendary master who ascended to cult leader via sound arts, and a virtuoso so renowned that the entire Central Plains flocked to the borderlands just to hear him play.
Even the emperor covertly supported the cult to summon him for a private performance.
When he'd occasionally play for his followers, even Kunlun Sect disciples—who saw the cult as blood enemies—would show up after hearing the rumors.
His musical realm was easy to imagine.
And I'd heard his performances countless times.
His twelve original pieces were so vivid that just listening conjured the scenes he evoked, immersing you in his emotions till tears flowed, or your head bobbed joyfully to the rhythm.
True mastery of music.
Had he lived as a mere musician instead of cult leader, his talent would've upended the entire Central Plains music world.
If that were the case, I wouldn’t have teared up in emotion only to get blasted by sonic cannons.
"Anyway, I inherited that man's every teaching and insight in full."
"Oho..."
An instrument worthy of such a being's ultimate technique couldn't just mimic the shape superficially.
"Reproduce perfectly an instrument of a shape unseen in this Greek land..."
"Yes. I came here thinking only sons of the famed Hephaestus could pull it off."
What's this, chicken?
Meeting my taunting gaze, Hestusias snorted dismissively and smirked.
"Ha! Telling the son of Hephaestus and disciple of the Cyclopes he can't? Perfect timing too—I've been itching from fiddling with nothing but swords and spears lately. Spill it."
"It won't be easy."
"You little... Shut up and talk. As long as someone's seen it, touched it, or knows it in this world—
I can make it!"
Gone was the casual indifference; now his eyes bulged like he'd rampage if I didn't explain the instrument right then.
Sure enough, across all nations, baiting a man with "chicken?" was the ultimate lure for any challenge.
A thrilling tingle ran through me like holding twin eels, and I grinned inwardly with wicked glee as I described the instrument I wanted.
"Hollowed wood for the body, about four to three cubits long. Can be played sitting on the lap or laid flat on a stand. It thickens gradually from the player's body outward, with twelve strings atop the body like a lyre—thick to thin. Turn the tuning pegs on the lower right to adjust the strings, and..."
"Hm... so here..."
"No, like this..."
He hauled over a slate to the counter, and we sketched blueprints with chalk, erasing and refining as we went—Hestusias and I tweaking the design feverishly.
True son of Hephaestus—each stroke he added as I described brought my vision ever closer to reality.
Soon, even detailed preliminary schematics were complete.
"Intriguing design... Strings stretched over a wooden board, plucked, with the hollow amplifying the sound?"
"Yes. How long will it take?"
"Hm..."
Scowling at our finished blueprint, Hestusias nodded at last.
"Probably... at least a week."
"A week?"
Way faster than expected.
Even for a son of the smith god, it'd be his first time seeing this instrument.
Plus time to source and prepare materials...
"What're you saying? Do you know where you are? With this design, a week's plenty. Of course..."
He grinned so slyly it was almost audible, his gray eyes glinting mischievously at me.
Some instinct screamed something was off, but...
"I'll need help from the great little hero whose fame echoes through the forest."
"Well, if you're making my stuff, of course I'd help."
"Oh? Told ya."
With triumphant smiles, Hestusias offered a handshake; I gripped it firmly, and we shook.
"Looking forward to it, kid."
"Me too."
His tone was as rough as ever, but given his lineage as Hephaestus's son and Cyclops disciple, it felt worth the gamble.
Though those sly, gleaming eyes hinting at what he'd demand in return were a tad unsettling.
What could I do? I was the desperate one.
Hestusias said he'd inform Chiron that, outside the forest curriculum, my activities would be with him for a while—so after classes, report to the forge.
"See ya tomorrow~"
"Ah, wait."
"Yeah?"
"What's this thing called?"
He eyed the instrument from my memories, still just a slate blueprint.
"In my homeland, it was called the gayageum, or gayatgo.
Once it's done, I'll play you a snippet."
"Gayageum, gayatgo... A Hyperborean instrument no one's ever made.
Finally, something fun to work on."
Nodding in satisfaction, Hestusias vanished into the forge without even a proper goodbye.