Black Tyranny

"Where is this?"

I'd been whisked away to some unfamiliar place right after confirming the message that I'd caught Hati. Dense trees crowded in on all sides, their branches thick and overgrown.

"Well, I'll be. It's actually real."

The voice was familiar. Only natural — we'd spoken just a few hours ago.

"Sköll."

At some point, a single black wolf had appeared behind me. Judging by the absence of any system message, Sköll was suppressing his power to the absolute minimum.

"To think that artifact had such a function hidden inside it."

Sköll let out a lament mixed with admiration as he looked at me.

"Human, you have passed my trial."

"You may claim the essence from that merchant."

I nodded at Sköll's reply. With Sköll's essence in hand, I could finally achieve what I'd set out to do.

"Thank you, Sköll."

"There is nothing to thank."

With those words, Sköll melted away into the shadows. A short while after he vanished, I returned to the place where Hati had fallen.

The moment I opened my eyes, the backlog of messages came flooding out all at once. I read through them, then dismissed the windows.

So Hati's carcass is already gone.

It would have been nice if the body had remained, but it had already vanished. Even so, the essence and the heart were Unique-grade material items.

"Might as well go pick up that essence first."

My business on the fifth floor wasn't finished yet. I hurried back to the general store and received Sköll's essence.

"To think I'd live to see the day someone actually obtained Sköll's essence."

The man's voice carried a strange, giddy excitement. I stowed the essence away quickly and left the shop — taking Sköll's heart along with me, of course.

"The real question is how I'm going to get this thing processed…."

A complete divine beast's essence. An essence and heart from a replica. And a sword imbued with the power of the moon.

Even I have to admit the materials are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠monstrous.

If I'd tried to have these processed outside the Tower, forget forging — every piece of equipment in the workshop would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have shattered outright. The only beings capable of working materials like these were dwarves. And among them, only those who had reached the level of a Blacksmith.

Will that old-timer actually be able to work this stuff…?

As it happened, the fifth floor had exactly the dwarf I needed. The problem ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was that his temperament was a little… distinctive.

I guess I have no choice but to go see for myself.

Meeting a dwarf through a gate was exceedingly rare. Meeting a Blacksmith, rarer still. Which meant, in the end, that I had no other options.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

As I stood before the blacksmithy, a wave of sweltering heat washed over me. The ring of hammer on anvil echoed ceaselessly from somewhere deep inside. I pushed the door open carefully and stepped in.

"Welcome!"

As soon as I entered, a female clerk greeted me in a bright voice. Weapons lined the room in abundance — every single one a Rare-grade piece.

But that wasn't the surprising part.

They're all practice pieces.

Every weapon here had been forged purely as practice. Anyone could tell just by examining the blades or how well they'd been maintained.

"What brings you in today?"

"I'd like to commission a weapon."

I said my piece and laid the materials out on the counter. The clerk examined everything I'd brought, went deathly pale, and sprinted into the back of the shop.

After a short wait, she emerged alongside a dwarf.

"Might I take a look at your materials?"

"Of course."

I answered and took a step back. The dwarf immediately began turning the dagger and essences over this way and that.

If he's a real Blacksmith, he'll identify materials like these at a glance.

Assuming he actually was one.

After a moment, the dwarf set the essences and the dagger down.

"You there, human. I don't know how you got your hands on such counterfeits, but you won't fool the eyes of a dwarf—"

The dwarf glared at me as he spoke. He'd just called my materials fakes.

So he's not a Blacksmith.

A genuine Blacksmith would have recognized the value of those materials instantly.

"You see, I came here hoping to speak with a 'real' Blacksmith — not a fraud like yourself."

"What did you just say?"

At my words, the blood vessels bulged across the dwarf's head.

"You're calling me a fake? A mere human like you?"

The dwarf trembled with fury as he spoke. Judging by this display alone, one might assume it was all my own baseless speculation.

His eyes definitely trembled just now.

The instant I'd said the words "real Blacksmith," the dwarf's eyes had wavered — barely, but they had. His aggression was probably just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a cover for his own flustered confusion.

"Not you. I said I'd speak with a 'real. One.'"

"Why, you insolent human—!"

When I stressed the word real again, the dwarf looked ready to lunge at me on the spot. Just then, a calm voice drifted out from the back.

"Show him in."

At that voice, the enraged dwarf went still in an instant. The female clerk standing beside him then spoke up.

"Please bring your materials and follow me."

I gathered up my things and followed her inside. The moment I stepped through, blistering heat seared through my entire body.

I dismissed the message and looked ahead. Standing before me was a dwarf who looked exactly like the one I'd just seen outside.

Completely different.

But in the mana I could feel and the aura he carried, they couldn't have been more unlike. If the dwarf outside had been an empty tin can, the one before me now was solid bedrock all the way through.

"So then, customer — what is it you'd like to commission?"

In answer to the dwarf's question, I handed over my materials. He examined them with extraordinary care. Then, after a short while, the dwarf suddenly began to laugh.

"Hahaha! At last! At long last, it's in my hands!"

The dwarf turned to look at me. His eyes burned with longing.

"I am Zex — Blacksmith of the dwarves."

"Han Jin."

Zex and I clasped hands.

"Hoo-ah."

I stretched and pulled myself out of bed. Three days after I'd placed my commission at the blacksmithy, word had finally come that my weapon was finished.

I've rested long enough. Time to head up.

I'd spent nearly two weeks on the fifth floor alone. My body had recovered plenty since the battle with Hati. This was enough — I could move on to the next floor.

I changed quickly and left the inn.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of hammering carried through the air as I approached the smithy. The moment I walked in, the clerk recognized me at once.

"Follow me, please."

She'd been this deferential ever since Zex and I had exchanged names. I followed her into the back.

"So the friend's here!"

"It's been three days, Zex."

I wasn't sure if it was some dwarven tradition, but Zex had treated me as a friend ever since that first day.

"Here's the commissioned piece."

Zex held out the dagger, wrapped snugly in white cloth. I carefully unwrapped it.

"Ha."

A hollow laugh escaped me the moment I laid eyes on the blade. All traces of its base — Grace of the Moon — had vanished without a trace. Instead, a jet-black blade that seemed to drink in every ray of light that touched it. Matching that darkness, black formed the foundation of the weapon with crimson worked in as the accent.

This isn't a weapon. It's a work of art.

Judging by appearance alone, it commanded the value of a masterpiece. Having confirmed its form, I opened the weapon's information window with rising anticipation.

After reading the effects, I pulled Zex into a hug where he stood watching me.

"Hahaha! Well, judging by the reaction, I take it you like it!"

"You could say that."

It was a full five minutes before I finally put Zex back down. I strapped the dagger to my belt.

"Suits you, friend."

Zex looked pleased with his own work as well.

"Ah, and I'll give you this too."

Zex handed me a small ticket. I checked its information.

I tucked the ticket into my inventory.

"So why are you giving me this ticket, exactly?"

"It's your means of reaching where I'll be. You can tell just by reading the item description."

"Friend, why do you think I was in this Tower at all?"

"Hmm. Good question?"

Come to think of it, it was strange. Why would a Blacksmith — a being hailed as the pinnacle of all dwarves — be in a place like this Tower?

"To work that essence you brought me, of course."

At those words, I understood: the material Zex had been waiting for was Sköll's essence.

"Thanks to you, I got to work Sköll's essence exactly the way I'd wanted — but I couldn't finish it."

"It did say 'incomplete' in the description…."

"The other materials simply lacked the strength to contain Sköll's essence."

Once I'd heard the explanation, I understood why Zex called the dagger unfinished.

"I'll need a material bearing an energy opposite to Sköll's essence — and one of nearly equal rank."

The other materials had certainly been impressive, but it was true that they fell short in quality compared to a divine beast's essence.

"Bring me the material and come to the workshop. I'll complete the dagger for you."

"Got it."

A material on par with Sköll's essence — and one bearing a negative nature, at that.

Hati's essence is out of the question.

Hati hadn't died like Sköll — she'd only been sealed. Handle things well, and she might even become an ally.

I'll think about that later….

Right now, even whether I could obtain such a thing was a gamble. Rather than waste thought on it, I was better off moving to the sixth floor as soon as possible.

"Then I'll see you around."

After bidding Zex farewell, I left the smithy and climbed straight up to the sixth floor.

"So this is the sixth floor."

As I looked around, a system message appeared.

The sixth floor's quest — a delivery mission requiring me to escort something safely to its destination.