by Fujino Omori
After returning home, Welf made up an excuse to spend the night in his workshop to avoid talking with anyone.
He wasn’t confident in his ability to keep a calm expression.
The last thing he wanted was for Hestia to figure out something was wrong.
Alone in the stone building in the rear garden of their home, the light of red flames illuminating his face, Welf stared into the heart of the fire in the forge. He sat on his bench, not moving a muscle.
His mind began to churn along with the subtle dance of the flames.
Each shift in the fire brought forth a slew of forgotten memories that had been awakened by the sudden reunion with his father.
“Listen to the metal’s words, lend your ears to its echoes, put your heart into your hammer.”
Before he knew it, there was a hammer in his hand and hot metal over the anvil. Wham! Wham!
A shower of sparks fell to the floor with each impact, echoes filling the workshop. His heart listened to the song of the metal, synchronizing with it to create a calm in the storm. Welf was finding his center.
Crackle, crackle. The sounds of the roaring forge rose into the deepening night.
He had completed the sword by the time he had to depart.
It wasn’t a magic sword, but the light-silver weapon emanated a clear glow. A type of blade he’d never made before was in his grasp.
He spent several moments looking at his reflection on the mirrorlike surface of the off-white sword. Then he placed it gently on the anvil. Wrapping several other weapons in a piece of thick white cloth, he left his workshop.
Time had passed much faster than he’d anticipated.
The night sky was clear and filled with stars. No lights came from the windows of Hearthstone Manor.
Welf gazed at his home for some time before leaving through the back gate.
The appointed time drew near. Welf silently made his way through the streets toward the outskirts of the city.
When suddenly…
“What the…Bell?!”
He felt the presence of someone following him and moved to confront whoever it was, only to find the white-haired boy.
Bell stepped directly into the light of a magic-stone lamp and spent several seconds trying to figure out what to say. A few heavy heartbeats later, he said in a quiet voice:
“You looked upset…And I was worried.”
Bell was the only one who had noticed something was off with the smith during their brief interaction back at home.
Welf was taken aback by the boy who had snuck out at night to follow him…But then he smiled.
It had happened again, just like on the eighteenth floor when Bell came hopping after him like some lonely rabbit. It made him feel warm inside.
He reached out with his right hand and ruffled the boy’s hair.
Seeing the blank look on the boy’s face broke down his last defenses, and Welf smiled in earnest.
Seeing that softer expression made Bell follow suit.
Welf had been dead set on solving this problem on his own, but now he felt as though he could share the load. He told the boy about everything that happened earlier that evening.
“R-Rakia?! Not only that, but your father…!”
“Yeah. That country really has a thing for Crozzo Magic Swords.”
Bell was dumbfounded by the news as the two of them continued through the streets.
Welf could still feel the presence of his observers keeping their distance, but what could they do at this point? With Bell around, they wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him and would be forced to let this transgression slide.
“…So, what are you going to do?”
Bell anxiously looked up, visibly shaken.
He was legitimately worried that the red-haired smith would give in to their demands. Welf laughed dryly, cracking a grin.
“I’m not gonna leave you—any of you—behind. So don’t worry.”
He told the boy to leave everything to him.
At the same time, Bell’s concern helped Welf relax. The two continued to walk under the night sky toward their date with destiny.
There was a way station among the storage facilities located on the southwestern edge of the city.
It served as an entrance for shipments coming into Orario by land and sea. Products from other regions and countries were brought here and stored until merchants distributed them across Orario. It also served as a marketplace, as many people came here to buy unusual items from foreign lands.
Bell and Welf made their way into a part of the facility that housed many large and small storage warehouses. Magic-stone lamps were few and far between and couldn’t illuminate all the paths that spread out through the facility like a spiderweb. There were too many dark alleys and blind spots to count. The intimidating presence of the towering city wall was also nearby.
The two kept a close eye on their surroundings until finally one cloaked man appeared in an alleyway. He swished his cloak as an indication to follow him. Gulp. Welf heard Bell swallow hard as he followed the man, the white-haired boy at his side.
The alleyway was completely deserted except for the sound of three sets of footsteps. The cloaked man led them to an old rectangular warehouse that had seen better days.
“—I told you to come alone, Welf.”
“I meant to, but he followed me here on his own. What was I supposed to do?”
Wil Crozzo stood in the middle of the old storage unit, illuminated by the moonlight coming through the glass windows at the top of its high walls.
The man’s eyebrows sank in displeasure. Welf, however, reached out and ruffled Bell’s hair with his right hand.
Wil watched the white-haired boy blush as his son teased him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a forced smile.
“Was nice meeting him, but this is where the two of you say good-bye.”
Wil reached into his cloak and withdrew his magic sword. Almost on cue, other hooded figures emerged from the shadows of the old warehouse.
There were at least fifty of them, far more than Welf had expected.
Bell at his side, the young man braced himself in the face of overwhelming numbers.
“How the hell did all you get into Orario? Were the gatekeepers sleeping?”
“The Guild might be powerful, but Orario is no fortress. Merchants, familias…There are several ways of getting in and out.”
Wil left his words open to interpretation, conjuring ideas of a mole inside Orario or that the Guild’s surveillance was far from perfect. It served only to worsen Welf’s state of mind.
Wil’s allies started stepping into the moonlight—the soldiers of Ares Familia had concealed their identities with an assortment of hooded robes and capes, disguising themselves as travelers. Drawing knives and daggers from sheaths hidden at their waists, the warriors moved to surround Bell and Welf.
“Now, foolish boy. You’re coming with us!”
Bell and Welf stood ready. Wil’s voice crackled with a joyous laugh. But then…
Countless magic-stone lamps flickered to life, flooding the warehouse with bright light.
“?!”
Wil, his soldiers, Bell, and Welf were stunned.
A ring of demi-humans that outnumbered Rakia’s soldiers had the entire group surrounded. The warehouse was under their control.
Welf squinted to protect his eyes from the sudden rush of light coming from their lamps. The first thing he saw when his eyes adjusted was the emblem engraved into the newcomers’ armor.
Hammers overlapping in front of a volcano.
“He-Hephaistos Familia?!”
Bell’s voice echoed through the warehouse at the same time the ring of demi-humans parted to allow a woman through.
“Well, looks like Finn hit the nail right on the head.”
“Tsubaki?!”
Welf’s jaw dropped at the sight of the female smith, her long black ponytail swishing back and forth and one eye hidden by an eye patch.<
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Leading a familia known the world over, Tsubaki appeared alongside the many High Smiths who composed one of Orario’s most powerful groups of adventurers and artisans. Wil’s voice shook as he yelled as loud as he could:
“Wh-why, how did you find us?!”
“Oh, we’ve known about this little ploy for a while now. So we’ve been keeping a close eye on your target.”
Wil’s face tensed in a mix of shock and disbelief. At the same time, Tsubaki’s lips pulled back into a smug grin as she spoke.
Loki Familia, realizing that Rakia’s army had been avoiding a decisive battle, had figured out their true objective. Working together with the Guild, they had ordered that Hestia Familia—especially Welf—be put under surveillance.
“So I was bait, was I…?”
Welf’s anger was palpable as he yelled at Tsubaki when she finished explaining to his father and the Rakian soldiers. That was the reason why she had kept showing up—even at the Dungeon—over the past few days.
Tsubaki shrugged off Welf’s fiery glare as a deity appeared next to her.
“My children have captured the reinforcements you had stationed outside the warehouse. Be grateful.”
“G-Goddess Hephaistos…?!”
Wil recoiled at the appearance of the goddess who wore an eye patch similar to but on the opposite side of Tsubaki’s.
Hephaistos’s eye patch, beauty, crimson eye, and hair were instantly recognizable all over the world. Her sudden appearance stunned even Rakia’s soldiers. Wil fired back with a tone that bordered on insanity.
“This isn’t over! We still have our magic swords—the power of Crozzo is on our side!”
He lifted the sparkling red blade in his grasp—the Crozzo Magic Sword—high into the air. An anxious chill ran through Bell and the members of Hephaistos Familia.
It was one of the last legendary magic swords said to be able to “burn away the sea.” Tsubaki’s expression became far more severe in the face of a weapon perfectly suited to take on superior numbers.
Hephaistos remained calm and composed. She cast her gaze onto the still silent Welf.
Rakia’s soldiers were invigorated by Wil’s call; each drew their own magic swords one by one.
“Welf, come with us if you don’t want to see the city become an ocean of flames!”
Wil called out to his son, with eyes that had long ago lost their vigor now burning from ghastly desperation.
“Well, didn’t plan for that. So, what to do…eh, Welfy boy?”
“All of you stay out of this.”
“Welf!”
“You, too. Trust me.”
Tsubaki called out to the red-haired man walking toward his father. But Welf didn’t look up when he responded. When Bell also took a few steps toward him, Welf flashed a grin over his shoulder.
A look of relief washed across Wil’s face as his son came closer.
“That’s right, Welf! Now come, hand over all the magic swords you brought!”
Welf continued to walk toward his overjoyed father but came to a stop ten paces in front of him.
Everyone in the warehouse watched with bated breath as Welf reached into the roll of white cloth he carried over his shoulder.
The young man withdrew a single dark-crimson longsword from within the mass of blades contained inside the cloth. Then he raised it.
“This is all I got.”
“What…?”
“Yeah. This is the only one I made.”
He declared that at his home and workshop, this was the only Crozzo Magic Sword there was.
It was then that Wil realized that Welf had brought all the other weapons wrapped in the cloth to help him break away from their clutches. His face instantly changed from surprise to burning red with rage.
Welf simply said there was no way to forge a magic sword in less than half a day and shrugged.
“Already forgotten what I told you, foolish boy…? Orario will become a hellscape…!”
Welf interrupted his father’s trailing protests.
“That sword in your hand is the only real Crozzo, isn’t it?”
“”
Bell, Tsubaki, and all of Hephaistos Familia reflexively leaned closer to the two men in the center of the warehouse after hearing those words.
Only Hephaistos herself was unaffected as she watched the tense scene play out.
“Spending some time cooped up in my shop was just what I needed to cool off. Even if that many magic swords survived the purge, there’s no way Rakia would let them all out at the same time.”
Just like his family, Welf knew the Kingdom of Rakia pined for its glory days when Crozzo Magic Swords reigned supreme, and was therefore very attached to them. They wouldn’t risk the few magic swords that remained on a plan that might or might not succeed. It was highly unlikely that this expeditionary force would be granted access to the remaining Crozzos in the first place.
He had reasoned that their original plan must have been to reunite with their allies outside the city wall, armed with all the new Crozzo Magic Swords he had supposedly forged, and then trap Alliance forces in a deadly pincer.
Welf had figured out that his return to Rakia was the bargaining chip, how his father had negotiated his way to acquiring one of their precious remaining magic swords.
Wil stood there in shocked silence, all but confirming Welf’s suspicions. His allies did indeed all carry magic swords, but they were not Crozzo Magic Swords. Each of them exchanged nervous glances.
Welf stood tall, confident. Wil took a step back in the face of his son’s sharp gaze.
“GahGRHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
Wil’s eyes suddenly flashed as he howled with rage.
“Stay back! Just one is enough to burn all of you into oblivion!”
Another wave of nervous energy shot through the warehouse as the man holding the sparkling red blade teetered on the verge of losing his mind.
Their fate would be determined by the flick of the wrist. Bell thrust out his right arm to unleash his own Magic at any moment. Tsubaki licked her lips, her hand nervously resting on the hilt of her thick katana, her right foot shifting closer to get the best jump possible.
Amid all this tension, Welf said:
“Do it.”
His father froze. Welf’s red hair flicked to the side as he jeered coldly at the man.
“Go ahead and try.”
He grinned, flashing his teeth.
His father must have gone past the breaking point because he ignored his allies’ calls to stop and took a step forward with the Crozzo Magic Sword held high above his head.
“Y-you FOOLISH BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY!!”
Then, before the red sword could fall—
Before Bell, the High Smiths, and even Tsubaki could react—
Welf’s eyes flew open as he slashed the dark-crimson longsword in his grasp with all his might.
“—Raging Inferno!!”
An explosion of flames rushed forward.
At the same time, a wave of fire surged from Wil’s red magic sword to meet it.
In front of all of Welf’s current and former allies, in front of Hephaistos’s intense one-eyed gaze, the young smith’s crimson flames absorbed and overpowered the red—and wiped them out. A roaring fire and a small mountain of sparks filled the warehouse, the heat blasting in all directions.
Those who were caught in it were thrown off their feet; others dropped to all fours in a desperate effort to withstand the shock wave. Red hakama violently shifting around her legs, Tsubaki stood tall in front of her goddess to protect her.
Then, when everyone’s eyes had recovered from the red glare enough to comprehend their surroundings…
Bell and the other observers slowly looked up…and saw Welf, standing tall on both feet, and Wil, firmly planted on his rear atop the charred floor of the warehouse.
Wil’s face froze in disbelief, when suddenly—CRACK! The red magic sword in his grasp fell to pieces. Welf’s
dark-crimson longsword was not only still in one piece but sparkling with even more magic energy.
The difference between the power of the two blades, as well as their limits, was plain for all to see. There was no comparison.
The magic sword forged by the boy, who had coughed up blood working as hard as he could to improve his Status, was superior to the one forged by his forefathers, who relied on only their inborn talent. That was all it was.
“…Why?!”
Wil, absolutely dumbstruck as he stared at the remains of the magic sword, howled at his son.
Trembling from head to foot, the last of his self-control disappeared and every pent-up emotion came raging out of him at once.
“Why do you not forge magic swords when you have all that power?!”
“…”
“Why do you not use that power for your family—for your country?!”
Welf didn’t respond to his father’s howls.
With Bell, Hephaistos, and Tsubaki looking on, he tightened his grip on the magic sword in his hand.
“Why is it you who can forge magic swords?! If it were me, if I had been born with the gift, by now…! Damn you, you worthless boy!”
Wil climbed to his feet as he unloaded years of frustration onto Welf.
The man’s eyes were bloodshot, not much different from a ferocious beast’s, as his cloak rippled around his body. “Are you still spouting that bullshit, that you can’t stand to see a weapon that’ll break? Weapons are disposable! You can just make another one!”
That got Welf’s attention. He glared daggers at his father. But Wil didn’t notice and continued his rant. “‘Make more blades, bask in never-ending honor’—have you forgotten the teachings of the blacksmith nobility who obtained glory with magic swords?”
With those words, Welf exploded. “What blacksmith nobility?! What honor?!”
The young man’s voice cut through the air inside the blackened warehouse. Wil fell silent as Welf took several impassioned steps forward.
A moment later, Welf’s clenched fist buried itself deep in his father’s cheek.
“GEH!”
The Rakian soldiers watched their leader fall to the ground in disbelief. Several stepped forward, drawing their weapons, but…
“Stay right there!”
