The Shield
"A shield?"
Zaraxia asked back.
He had already made up his mind to craft a sword, so a sudden request for a shield was quite the curveball. It was an affront to his craftsmanship, but he wanted to hear the reason first.
"Why a shield?"
"Roan uses a shield, you see. But the one he had was completely shattered," Jane said, pointing at Roan.
His off-hand, the one not holding a sword, looked particularly empty.
"He's always taking the lead to block attacks, but he's only been using a single sword. He never complains, but it's been bothering me."
"Ah, is that so?"
"Oh... was he?"
The two who had never seen Roan use a shield spoke up. So he originally used a shield. Since he fought so spectacularly even without one, they had assumed he was strictly a swordsman.
"If that's the case, I understand. I also prefer the gear I make to be put to good use," Zaraxia said.
It was a craftsman's desire to see his work used right beside him. Rowell, who had just lost his chance right in front of his eyes, clicked his tongue in disappointment. However, he didn't object, as he also agreed that prioritizing gear for Roan was the better choice.
"Roan, what about you? You've been fighting without a shield ever since it got dented back then," Jane asked.
"Well, I..."
He wasn't particularly fixated on it. But he had no intention of refusing either, as it was a thoughtful suggestion from a comrade who cared about him. Having made up his mind, Roan nodded.
"Understood. Then I will begin immediately," Zaraxia said.
"Uh... right here? Don't you usually need an anvil or a furnace?" Belgard asked, recalling the sweltering forge of Bebelhon. In truth, it was a basic fact anyone could deduce just by looking at the swords scattered nearby.
Whether he didn't feel the need to answer or simply preferred to show them with actions, Zaraxia immediately picked up his hammer.
"Wait, hammering in a garden—?"
Ignoring the bewildered reaction, Zaraxia swung his hammer down.
—Clang!
Sparks showered the air.
He didn't need any auxiliary tools. The scorching heat radiating from his fingertips and his scale-covered forearms were all the tools he required.
"Oh," Jane murmured, her eyes widening in slight surprise. "Unlike his personality, his mana control is incredibly delicate."
"Is it...?" Belgard asked.
"Yeah. It's different from the magic I use. He's not just raising the heat; he's adjusting it to the exact level required."
As if deaf to their conversation, Zaraxia focused entirely on refining the materials. The scattered scraps of metal began to gather one by one, gradually taking the shape of a shield.
—Boom!
—Clatter!
Without a word, he shattered the nearly finished form into pieces, only to piece new parts together again. It was an obsession born of repetition. Through this relentless process, something magnificent began to take shape.
Steel plates were layered like a swirling vortex around an empty center. With all due respect to the blacksmith of Piolo, even though this shield wasn't even finished yet, its craftsmanship already far surpassed anything that smith could ever hope to make.
"Whew."
Zaraxia embedded a blue pulse into its center. The metal plate throbbed a few times as if it had received a beating heart, then quieted down. Watching it closely, Zaraxia picked up the shield and handed it to Roan.
"It is complete. The Regenerating Shield."
No one answered. Their mouths were shut tight, utterly captivated by the artistic process they had just witnessed.
"Ah, do you want a demonstration? Understood."
Zaraxia struck the shield with his hammer.
—Clang! Crack!
With a brutal sound, the shield broke. Reduced to a scrap heap so badly its original shape was unrecognizable, the metal slowly began to restore itself.
The dented iron flattened out, and the shattered pieces gathered to reform the structure. Soon, the vortex-shaped shield returned to its pristine state.
Snorting in satisfaction, Zaraxia offered the shield to Roan once more.
"How is it... wait, are you crying?"
"Uuugh..."
Del Roan, owner of incredibly weak tear ducts, had once again failed to hold back his tears. He wept openly.
In any case, that was how Roan gained both a new shield and a new companion.
"Our time in Tyramore is over. It wasn't bad to relax for a bit," Jane said, taking one last look at the sea as if feeling sentimental.
"So, where are we going next? Do you have a place in mind?"
"Of course!" Roan replied instantly.
It was a firm, resolute affirmation, indicating he had a clear destination in mind rather than just wandering away from the coast.
Tsk, you do? And here I was, planning to suggest the idea that got pushed aside by Zaraxia earlier.
Though slightly disappointed, Jane was a good follower who listened to her leader, so she asked him for the destination.
"The Holy State!"
With that answer, even her lingering disappointment vanished.
"Huh?" Roan blinked.
"Why that face?"
"Because it's the exact same place I was thinking of."
"Ah, right. You wanted to say something before Zaraxia spoke, didn't you? Was that it?"
"Yeah. The Holy State seems a bit unsettled lately, and I was also thinking we could get something good for Belgard there."
Roan always acted nonchalant, but he was constantly looking out for everyone. Since he had already helped Jane, it seemed he was planning to support Belgard's growth this time.
"Ah... me?" Belgard said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I feel a bit bad about this..."
"No need to feel bad! If you act like that, I'll just push even harder out of stubbornness, so just accept it!"
Roan was a man of action. Rather than beating around the bush and making things tedious for everyone, it was much better to just accept his goodwill.
Besides... it really was something I've been concerned about. Belgard had been looking for the right moment to say he wanted to get stronger, so when Roan brought it up first, he felt deeply apologetic yet incredibly grateful. In that case, he would gladly accept.
With Belgard's agreement, the party's next destination was set: the Holy State Ordela. They would investigate the seed of destruction sprouting near its borders and obtain the items necessary for Belgard's growth.
"Then, let's head out immediately—"
"Wait."
Just as Roan was wrapping up his announcement, Rowell raised his hand as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
"I will be moving separately," Rowell declared. "In Tyramore, our interests aligned, so I traveled with you. But I have no reason to follow you to the Holy State."
"You really are uncooperative," Jane grumbled.
Regardless of her complaints, Rowell's mind was made up. Roan didn't bother stopping someone who wanted to go their own way. After all, he still possessed the armor piece, meaning he could check on Rowell's safety whenever necessary.
"Fine... Wait, what about you, Zaraxia? Are you coming with us?" Roan asked.
Zaraxia was cut from the same cloth as Rowell—a man who valued his independence. Roan figured he might also choose to go his own way.
"I will go with you," Zaraxia replied. "I can secure some support if I need materials along the way."
He didn't even try to hide his ulterior motives.
"Just so you know, once we arrive, I will be working near the Holy State. Please do not look for me until my work is done."
He was openly planning to sit out of any combat and work on his own nearby, essentially treating the party as his personal travel escorts.
"Actually, that's even better! I prefer it when people are upfront like that!" Jane laughed.
Indeed, since they didn't know his actual combat capabilities, it was probably safer for him to stay out of the fray.
With that, their journey in Tyramore came to an end. Leaving behind Rowell, who had departed without so much as a farewell, the party set off.
The party walked along a deserted forest path. The terrain was rugged and the trees grew so dense that the atmosphere was incredibly eerie.
"...It's pitch black even though it's midday. What kind of road is this?" Jane grumbled. Unable to stand it any longer, she conjured a flame at her fingertips.
It was a powerful blaze that instantly illuminated their surroundings. Seeing this, Zaraxia spoke up, his interest piqued.
"Are you using fire magic?" Zaraxia asked.
"Yeah, why? Because we both use fire?"
"Because the caliber of your magic seems different. It appears to be a much hotter flame than what I can wield."
"Heh."
Jane was notoriously weak to compliments. Having recently felt a lingering sense of inadequacy compared to Roan, the praise tasted particularly sweet.
"Want me to show you more? I can light up all the way to that fork in the road over there."
"Oh, would you?"
"Wait, Jane. Lighting up a dark forest like this might be dangerous—"
Belgard's warning came a second too late. The flame at Jane's fingertips flared with greater intensity, casting a brilliant light over a wide area. The creatures hiding in the shadows of the forest scurried away into the underbrush.
But in contrast to the fleeing wildlife, other figures stepped out of the darkness.
"What kind of balls do you have? Lighting a fire like that after openly trespassing into our territory."
"Is this a signal saying 'Please eat us'? What's the deal?"
Sneering laughs echoed through the trees as a group of bandits emerged. They wore shabby, mismatched clothes and sported bushy, unkempt beards. The blood splattered on their gear had long since dried into a dark, rusty crimson. Yellowish grease and fat clung to the blades at their waists, suggesting they had recently butchered something.
"Uuugh... bandits..." Belgard muttered. "There are only two in sight, but there are probably more, right?"
"Of course, of course. There are at least five more back at our camp. So let's make this easy," one of the bandits said, holding out his hand.
"Toll. Hand over a modest ten gold coins, and we'll let you pass. But if you don't have it..." He pulled back his hand and mimed slitting his throat with his thumb.
Since no ordinary traveler carried ten gold coins on them, it was a demand to pay with their lives.
Assuming they wouldn't have the money, the bandit raised his voice and drew his sword. "See? You don't have it, do you? Perfect. The gear you're wearing looks reasonably expensive, so we'll just strip you clean and sell it all. Hey! Get out here, boys!"
At his shout, a swarm of bandits poured out from a nearby cave. Just as he had boasted, there were at least seven more of them.
"This is so exhausting... bandits of all things," Jane sighed.
"...S-Still, they seem to be quite strong," Charbun stammered, pointing to the intricate tribal tattoos covering his massive frame. "They d-didn't even flinch upon seeing these."
"What? Why the hell would we be scared of some ink? We've turned monsters twice your size into minced meat!"
—Bwahaha!
Boisterous laughter filled the forest. The sheer confidence in their voices made it clear they considered themselves the apex predators of these woods.
"...Shall I slaughter them?" Jane asked coldly.
"No, Jane," Roan said, stopping her from stepping forward. "Actually, this is perfect. I haven't tested it yet."
Roan adjusted his grip on his new shield. As if understanding that this was its maiden voyage, the blue gem embedded in its center began to pulse like a living heartbeat.
"Can everyone wait a moment? Just until I test out this shield."
"What? Wait? You're really looking down on us, aren't you, you arrogant little bastard!"
With a furious roar, the lead bandit swung his blade downward.
—Clang!
The deafening ring of metal shook the surrounding branches, sending a shower of leaves drifting down between them.
The bandit's blade bit deep, trying to force its way through the shield. Yet, it couldn't pierce it. Was it because the shield had moved on its own, resonating with some magical force? No. There was no such gimmick. The bandit simply couldn't overcome Roan's raw physical strength.
"Wh-what kind of monstrous strength is this...?"
"But the shield is damaged! Swarm him now!"
"Damaged? What nonsense are you spouting?" Zaraxia scoffed, flatly denying the claim. "There is no way a shield I crafted would fall to such a pathetic attack. Keep your eyes wide open and watch."
—Creak, screech!
The deep dents, the hollows, and the gouges where the blade had bitten into the metal began to fill themselves in. Watching the shield regenerate in real-time, the bandit's eyes slowly widened in sheer disbelief.
"...What kind of magical artifact is that?" the bandit muttered, his hands trembling.
It wasn't a tremble of fear, however.
"Y-you bastards! Get your heads in the game! That shield he's holding is no ordinary gear! If we sell that, forget ten gold—we can easily get fifty gold or more!"
The bandits began to drool, shouting excitedly as if they had hit the jackpot. Even in the face of such savage greed, Roan remained completely serene. Stroking the surface of the shield, which had fully restored itself, he let out a genuine exclamation of awe.
"It's already a masterpiece! This is amazing, Zaraxia!"
"Though it still falls somewhat short of my personal standards," Zaraxia replied, though he was fidgeting his hands, clearly pleased by the praise.
Now that the shield's performance had been verified, there was no longer any reason to wait.
"Alright! Let's clean this up quickly and head to the Holy State!"
"What kind of bullshit are you—"
—Crack!
—Whoosh!
—Clang!
"Argh!"
"Save me!"
Deep within the dark forest on the road to the Holy State, the screams of the once-confident bandits echoed through the trees.