Farewell at the Dawn Forge
Someday, we might meet again. At the faint dawn light filtering subtly through the wooden window slats, my eyelids twitched. My head still spun a little, but I gently opened my eyes and sat up.
“Haaah……”
Yawning, I rubbed my eyes with my hand. The nightmares must've gotten to me—fatigue lingered like a stubborn haze.
Maybe it was those awful sights from yesterday. Even after sleeping, a smoldering irritation flickered inside me, refusing to die out.
It was because of those black mages I'd killed yesterday.
They say if you spot one cockroach, hundreds more lurk nearby.
From what I'd confirmed in the hideout of the black mage I smashed yesterday, the countries around here were still fine, but farther south, past the mountain range splitting the continent north to south, they were crawling with the bastards.
And it seemed their influence stretched even to the central continent, across the sea to the west from here.
To sum it up.
“Ugh, such a pain……”
It really was a hassle. Of course I'd smash any right in front of me, but wiping out ones scattered across the entire continent? When would that end?
Just circling the continent nonstop would take at least ten years, and hunting them down one by one? Twenty, thirty years easy.
And that assumed they sat still waiting to get crushed. No, they'd spread like cancer even while I was at it.
No thanks.
I just wanted to chuck it all and live easy.
But leaving them be meant they'd keep corrupting souls somewhere. Couldn't let that slide.
And crucially.
“'That One'……”
The handwriting on that single personal letter—it felt eerily familiar. The tone, the sentence structure.
A few faces flashed in my mind and vanished, but one lingered.
“……”
Deep in my head, half of me was convinced, yet I couldn't fully commit. I caught myself hesitating.
It wasn't a pleasant conclusion.
After a brief internal debate, I decided not to confirm until I saw for myself. I shoved the judgment aside for now.
A few days since sleeping on snow-mixed dirt instead of a comfy bed, and Kasian predictably overslept as always.
I gave him a loving zap of electricity to wake him, scarfed a simple breakfast, and left the inn.
Maybe from the morning shock, he looked sulky, but self-inflicted. In one ear, out the other.
“You were super sweet to Eila yesterday, so why me……”
Eila was the little girl who'd helped take down the black mage yesterday.
By the time I bashed the black mage's head in, it was late night, and the black magic's lingering effects hadn't fully faded, so I'd left her with Kunrot.
“Eila's a kid. You're not.”
“I bet I got zapped at that age too.”
“You're learning magic, so it's different.”
“Tch……”
Kasian made a face like he couldn't accept it, but he shut up after that.
Smart move—arguing more would just mean more pain later. And anyway, he'd forget it soon enough and get hyped again.
We were heading to collect our quest reward.
We stepped onto the main street toward the market, then ducked into a narrower alley, twisting through a few smaller ones deeper in.
Yesterday we'd entered from the market, but today from the central road, so I briefly wondered if this was right. But pushing further in, the familiar street from yesterday reappeared.
Winding through the alleys, the forge came into view—heat radiating from within even in the early morning sun.
Pushing open the creaky, rarely used door, Kunrot greeted us mid-hammer swing.
Unlike yesterday, though, Eila was there too, not just Kunrot.
“Sis!”
Eila, who'd been sitting on a chair, ran over. She looked totally different from yesterday. Still skinny and short, but no more grime caking her.
Her unevenly cut hair was clean brown now, and though her clothes were crudely made, they were intact. Just a girl her age.
I patted her head and sat on the chair.
“Here for the promised stuff. A staff fit for this guy.”
I nudged Kasian's back, shoving him forward. He pouted like he didn't like it, but his face lit up at "new staff."
“Of course, milady. Have you ever seen me break a promise?”
“You bet on arm-wrestling for a gold coin and didn't pay up when I won.”
“That was invalid. You cheated.”
“Cheated my ass.”
Kunrot chuckled, ignoring me, and headed into the storeroom.
Digging sounds, ripping something free, then a pot shattering—clang.
Moments later, he emerged with a dull silver-gray ingot in hand, no shine to it.
“Hey, that's……”
Menelcium. “I thought it over deep. For an old friend and benefactor like you, gotta give something special.”
Menelcium, or immutable gold. Incredibly light yet insanely hard in solid form.
To work it, you had to melt it—impossible since it stayed solid even at temperatures where iron vaporizes.
Super rare, conducts mana like a dream, perfect for staves... but.
“You can't process that alone.”
“That's why I waited for you. When else to handle something like this?”
“Sigh, whatever.”
Generating ultra-high heat was easy for me anyway.
Felt a bit used, but one ingot could buy a small castle up north. Profitable.
“Haha, counting on you.”
“Smooth talker.”
I set the ingot on the anvil and gathered mana around it.
Manifesting as pure heat—no resistance, it instantly superheated the ingot.
Silver-gray glowed, shifting orange to yellow, pure white, then faintly blue.
Hotter than the sun's surface—optimal, where Menelcium flowed without fully melting or staying rigid.
Yet no heat escaped; the anvil stayed cool.
“Hold it steady!”
Clang! Clang! Claaang!
Kunrot's hammer struck, elongating the ingot each time. Slow and forceful at first, then faster, finer.
The cube became a long rod in no time.
Next, shaping the rod barehanded—no gloves.
Glancing back, Kasian gawked, eyes on the staff itself, not the craft.
Easy to read.
After embedding the mana core and carving channels.
The sun had barely risen higher, yet Kunrot finished the staff.
My share: 90%.
A bit taller than Kasian, etched with intricate patterns that kept it from looking plain.
Blunt end for bashing, but light—secondary use.
“Kid—Kasian, right? Channel some mana into it.”
Kasian gripped the middle with both hands, slowly infusing mana. The carved circuits resonated.
“Ooh……!”
“Thank your master. You won't find one like this anywhere.”
“Thanks, mister!”
“Heh……”
The kid's praise didn't faze Kunrot much, but he seemed quietly pleased with his work.
Though I basically made it. Kasian gets a whack later. Educational.
“Keeping her here?”
“The folks deeper in aren't right in the head yet. You said a month to recover, but tossing out a kid we took in feels wrong.”
The black mages maintaining the spell were gone.
Influence wouldn't vanish overnight, but a month, and souls would heal.
I could purge it directly, but even for me, mass soul-tampering was taxing.
“Just met her last night. And honestly……”
I swallowed "she doesn't seem talented." Eila was chatting with Kasian, oblivious, but better safe.
Message landed. Taking in a slum kid meant apprenticeship for a smith.
“So what? You said it once: 'Even brushing sleeves is fate.' Still don't know where that's from.”
Even brushing sleeves is fate.
“True enough.”
I smiled faintly and donned my cloak.
“Heading south?”
“Yeah.”
“Exactly 120 years since we first met.”
120 years. Not long anymore, but looking back, eventful.
“Take care. Don't make me wait another century.”
“Eh, I'll think about it.”
I stood, shouldered my backpack from the corner, and called to Kasian.
“Let's go. Time to move.”
“Huh? We've been here one day and already?”
“Staff's fixed. On to new places.”
“……Yeah, one sec.”
As Kasian grabbed his staff and pack, Eila tugged my sleeve.
“Sis…… leaving?”
“Yep.”
“Can I…… see you again?”
Again. Couldn't promise for sure. Sweeping black mages meant I'd be busy.
But.
“Yeah, someday. See you then.”
“……Okay.”
I hugged teary-eyed Eila, patted her, and opened the door.
Outside, Kasian rushed out, pack slung on.
He paused, glancing back lingeringly. I followed his gaze: Eila waving big, Kunrot half-heartedly behind.
I waved lightly and stepped forward.
Back on the road.