Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: That Day
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All sorts of abilities seeped into his body.
A slight headache, a satisfying harvest.
Of course, this wasn't the end.
"What the hell is going on?!"
"Explosion! It's from the alchemy room!"
Surviving organization members began gathering from all over the hideout.
"The whole alchemy room got blown away!"
"How many of them died?!"
The scene was a complete mess.
In that chaos, someone revealed themselves.
"Everyone, make way."
A low, intimidating voice.
That single command silenced the surroundings.
"Boss!"
The organization members cleared a path.
Two figures walked through the gap.
'That guy's the one.'
Damian's eyes narrowed.
The first thing that caught his eye was the wood elf.
'Blacksmith Jillian.'
The prime suspect as the Black Hand's boss.
At the same time, the elf blacksmith Damian was seeking.
A being with pale purple skin and gleaming eyes.
'And...'
Standing tall right beside him was a human middle-aged man.
Curiously, he wielded two swords.
'Twin swords.'
He could feel it.
This was the guy.
'Sword user.'
The very sword user that executive Anton had mentioned.
A skilled fighter who couldn't become a knight for some reason.
Or perhaps he had chosen this filthy path himself.
'...What's this?'
But something was off.
How should he put it?
'He's... easier than I expected?'
When he had faced a sword user in the Shadow Forest and the eastern front.
Or when he first saw the cursed wood elf lord just recently.
There was no such prickling sensation as back then.
No instinctive sense of threat.
'Why?'
The reason wasn't far away.
It was within Damian himself.
'...I've gotten stronger.'
Looking back, it made sense.
The three powerhouses mentioned earlier.
The knight from the Shadow Forest, the knight from the eastern front.
And even the cursed wood elf lord.
'I devoured them all.'
He had defeated them and taken their abilities.
As a result, he had already surpassed those three.
'No need to be tense.'
Why would he be afraid?
Of some sword user rolling in the gutters.
He had already taken down far greater foes.
"Scatter and search! Find every last one of those intruders!"
A timely command came down.
An order that dispersed the organization members.
Now, only two remained by Jillian's side.
And one vice boss who was a sword user.
'Time to wrap this up.'
Damian realized there was no need to hide any longer.
He slowly stood and stepped forward.
In an instant, he devoured the two.
Now, only two remained.
The Black Hand's vice boss and sword user, Eric Chentner, drew his twin swords and stepped forward.
"You're dead now, you damn bastard!"
Then, Jillian, who was behind him, shouted triumphantly.
He seemed to trust Vice Boss Eric Chentner's skills.
"Eric! No need for anything fancy! Just kill him!"
He had good reason to.
Wasn't it a rare realm?
'Sword user.'
Perfect timing.
He had wanted to try it out anyway.
The technique he got from the wood elf lord.
Not on small fry, but on a proper opponent.
Thud!
Having made up his mind, Damian dropped Dawn and his buckler to the ground.
Then he drew the Elven Sword strapped to his back.
"...What the hell? That broken sword."
A gray two-handed sword missing most of its teeth.
Eric sneered at the sight.
"Hup...!"
But Damian ignored him and took his stance.
The technique he had taken from the cursed wood elf lord.
The preparatory stance for the so-called 'One Flash'.
'Condense, then explode.'
Mana swirled within his body.
Hot, powerful, violent force.
'Stronger.'
He suppressed and compressed that power.
Like drawing a bowstring to its limit.
Crack!
His muscles screamed.
Pain twisting through his entire body.
But he didn't stop.
"Damn it all!"
Despite his words.
Eric was a sword user too.
He must have sensed something was off.
"Just die!"
He wouldn't wait any longer.
He crossed his twin swords and closed in instantly.
Intending to strike first before whatever was coming.
'Now!'
But Damian had the same thought.
In sync with the charging motion, he released the suppressed power.
Like releasing a fully drawn bowstring.
In an explosive movement.
Shwaaaa!
A gray flash cleaved through the darkness.
And shortly after.
"...Huh?"
Eric Chentner froze in place.
His eyes filled with shock.
Clang!
The delayed sound of metal rang out.
The twin swords he had held forward snapped in two and fell.
And that wasn't all.
"Guh, guhuk...?"
A hollow feeling below his neck.
Blood spraying out like a fountain.
Thud!
Eric Chentner collapsed to the ground.
His twin swords and head flying off simultaneously.
An utterly pathetic death.
"Huuuu..."
Damian slowly exhaled.
Blood dripped from the sword tip.
The familiar blue text appeared before his eyes.
But this time, only one instead of two.
The reason wasn't hard to guess.
'Because I'm stronger.'
The opponents who had yielded two abilities so far numbered three.
All of them had been stronger than Damian.
But Vice Boss Eric Chentner was not.
'Chentner Family Twin Swordsmanship.'
Either way, he had gained a useful ability.
An option that would expand his choices depending on the situation.
"E-Eric... is dead...?"
Was it because of his trusted partner's pathetic death?
The Black Hand's boss, Jillian, muttered.
His voice trembling with bewilderment and fear.
"No way... Eric was definitely..."
A sword user who wielded mana.
The very one who had elevated the Black Hand to the top organization.
Yet that Eric, his trusted partner, was dead.
To this intruder he didn't know.
With a single sword strike.
"......"
He quickly racked his brain.
Fight? How? If even Eric lost.
Flee? How? He's that strong.
He was probably fast enough to catch up.
Then the only choice left was one.
"P-Please spare me!"
He dropped to his knees.
Bowed his head to the ground.
To beg for his life.
"Just tell me what you want! Whatever it is, I'll do it! Please, please just spare my life...!"
"Can you fix my sword?"
"...Pardon?"
Jillian blankly stared at Damian.
A reaction as if he couldn't comprehend the words.
"I heard you're an elf blacksmith. Isn't that right?"
"...Ah, aah!"
Now he got it.
The monster's goal.
"Yes! I'm that elf blacksmith! Yes!"
He caused all this chaos just to fix one sword?
Rage boiled up, but survival came first.
"Indeed, an Elven Sword! I can fix it!"
"You sure?"
"Absolutely! Yes!"
Jillian nodded vigorously.
In response, Damian nodded back.
"Good."
"Yes, yes! Of course! You've come to the right place! There's no other blacksmith around here who can handle elf-made gear! I kept honing my blacksmithing skills steadily, even amid all the construction work, knowing a day like this might come! I even made equipment for my underlings myself..."
"I'll put it to good use."
"Pardon? W-What do you..."
The conversation ended there.
Damian raised the Elven Sword high.
"W-Wait! Just a moment...!"
A pathetic death, just like Eric's.
Jillian collapsed, spraying blood.
And finally, he obtained it.
The purpose of everything he had done today.
'Elf blacksmithing.'
A vast amount of information flooded his mind.
How to handle fire, select iron, the angle to strike with the hammer.
Sensations as familiar as if he had repeated them for centuries were etched into his flesh.
'This will do.'
Damian's gaze naturally turned to one place.
The stone building at the deepest part of the hideout.
A space radiating intense heat.
'The forge.'
The Black Hand's boss.
Jillian's personal workshop.
No reason to hesitate.
Creeeak...!
Damian entered the forge.
A blast of heat and the smell of iron filings hit him.
'Perfect.'
He could tell at a glance.
Elf-made specialized tools not found in ordinary forges.
The result of elven craftsmanship combined with the organization's capital.
'Let's get started.'
Damian placed the Elven Sword on the workbench.
The gray two-handed sword missing most of its teeth.
Now it was time to restore it.
'First, the fire.'
He lit the furnace.
He knew instinctively how.
'My body moves on its own.'
He didn't try to think it through.
He let his body follow instinct.
The proficient skill guided his hands and senses.
Roar!
He moved the glowing red blade to the anvil.
Then raised the hammer high.
Clang!
The first hammer strike.
A clear, resonant sound echoed through the forge.
Clang! Clang! Claaaang!
Relentless follow-up blows.
Not just brute force.
Precise work reading the metal's grain and correcting its flow.
'Not repair, but restoration.'
The essence of a sword twisted over long years.
A noble process of revival.
Clang! Clang! Claaaang!
As the hammering continued, the sword's shape changed.
The chipped parts filled in, the edge sharpened.
'Now the final step.'
Damian dipped the sword into a cold liquid.
A special solution from elven blacksmithing secrets.
Ssss...!
Hot steam rose.
And finally.
'Complete.'
The perfectly restored Elven Sword revealed itself.
The straight blade was no longer gray but a clear silver.
Ancient elven runes on its surface shimmered with blue light.
'This is the true Elven Sword.'
A stance worthy of being called an elven masterwork.
Damian admired its brilliance.
'Definitely different.'
Dawn and the buckler.
And now the Elven Sword.
An inexplicable sense of solidity washed over him.
'Now I can head to Sobkov Territory.'
Mission accomplished, one way or another.
As Damian turned to leave the forge.
"...!"
Presences outside.
The remaining organization members who had scattered to search for the intruder.
'Forgot about those guys.'
Glancing out, they were all armed with crossbows.
Clear intent to turn him into a pincushion.
'Let's see.'
A buckler wouldn't cut it.
He needed a bigger shield, or a substitute.
'That'll do.'
Damian's eyes locked on the rectangular workbench.
Charge with that in front, then pick them off one by one.
"Hup!"
He moved according to plan.
Lifted the workbench and charged, using it as a shield.
Then, a sudden thought struck him.
'...What if that boss had given me some other ability besides blacksmithing?'
A bit out of place in the moment.
But piercing the core.
Of course, the realization didn't last long.
Crash!
He had to survive first.
Seize the opportunity created with the workbench.
Only then could he go to Sobkov Territory or wherever.
"Haaaaap!"
That day.
Melrn's citizens' biggest headache.
The crime organization 'Black Hand' vanished into the annals of history.
Not only that, but all the held victims were freed.
By the hands of a man who simply wanted to fix one sword.