Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 5 Read online

  “Hmm? You do alchemy, too, do ye? It’s in your hands, then.”

  Elder Dohal’s swift decision seemed to agitate Zajuul and the other apprentices.

  However, none of them was able to say that to his face.

  One of the apprentices guided me to the alchemy area in the corner of the room.

  “I’ve only helped with formulation before, but…”

  According to the dwarf’s explanation, the pots were lined up in order of when they should be mixed in, and the assortment of tableware strewn around in front of the pots was used in place of scales to measure the material. It was pretty approximate.

  The contents of the jars were supposed to be a secret, but because of my “Analyze” skill and AR display, I could figure it out easily.

  The Transmutation Tablet used to finish up the job already had the proper settings in place, so I was able to master the Dwarf Elixir without much trouble.

  Checking over my creation, Elder Dohal nodded sagely.

  “Well made. Perhaps ye can take over for Ganza.”

  Elder Dohal didn’t sound like he was joking.

  He carried the pot containing the elixir into a room next to the smithing workshop.

  I figured this was a smithing room for his exclusive use.

  The room contained a small furnace made of scarlet ore and an anvil made of mithril alloy.

  “ Magic Pulse Connection Mamyaku Setsuzoku.”

  Elder Dohal’s words caused a golden-red flame to spring up in the melting furnace.

  As he spoke the incantation, the gold diadem around his forehead glowed, so he was probably using the power of a City Core granted exclusively to the lord of a territory.

  One of his apprentices arranged his smithing tools next to him. In the bucket for cooling was a liquid called Dwarf Water.

  Curious, I asked Zajuul about it, since he was standing nearby.

  “Is that water in there?”

  “It’s Dwarf Water, for cooling. Three parts oil and one part spirits. Even the mithril here likes liquor, y’see.”

  I think that last part was a joke, but other than that, he taught me the recipe easily enough.

  I was tempted to comment that it should be called Dwarf Oil not Water, but we were starting soon. I kept my mouth shut.

  “Master! Preparations are complete.”

  “Great. Then let’s begin.”

  The jealous gazes of the dwarves around us bore into me painfully. I supposed smithing along with Elder Dohal was a great honor.

  If you’ve got something to say, say it to Elder Dohal.

  I did my best to ignore the envy of those around me and focus on the task at hand. Getting to work with a master sword smith might well be a once in a lifetime chance, so I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest.

  By the next morning, the sword was complete.

  I’d struck it so many times that I felt like I was in a trance. When I closed my eyes, I could still see the sparks flying on the backs of my eyelids.

  The Dwarf Elixir was used to heat the mithril in the melting furnace. With monster core powder as an ingredient, this was probably part of the key to the dwarves’ unique weapon-making methods. It seemed to be a different technique from the liquid used for making Magic Swords.

  For the final stage, I observed Elder Dohal’s precise work on only the finishing touches, but I still learned a lot from it. After this, I felt like I could make a famous sword myself.

  “I’m impressed ye finished it without needing someone to take yer place. If ye wish to study in earnest, yer always welcome here. Ye could even surpass me with a little time.”

  Elder Dohal clapped me on the back mightily.

  Oof.

  It hurt just as much as that tail attack from the greater hell demon in the Seiryuu City labyrinth.

  If he wasn’t careful, he might just kill someone with that someday.

  “I still have much left to do. Go on and eat without me.”

  With that, Elder Dohal went off somewhere with the completed sword. Once he had stepped out with Zajuul, the other dwarves promptly gathered around me.

  “Yer pretty good for a human!”

  “Darn right! Ye sure ye ain’t a dwarf wi’out a beard?”

  “I didn’t think anyone but Master Dohal could swing that giant hammer all night long, och!”

  “Yer welcome here anytime, y’hear!”

  All I really did was strike with the giant hammer until morning as Elder Dohal instructed, but by all appearances, I’d thoroughly impressed the dwarven blacksmiths.

  I was happy about that, although I could’ve done without the comment on my lack of a beard.

  If this body were the same as it was before, it’d be only another five or six years before I started growing one… Probably.

  Shaking off the beginnings of an inferiority complex, I headed to the messroom with the dwarves to have breakfast.

  As we left, I noticed Jojorie asleep in the corner of the room, so I woke her up and brought her along.

  Once I’d replenished my energy with a breakfast of meat and liquor, I was called into the hall in the basement.

  This was the atrium of the second level, and the ceiling was about fifteen feet high.

  “Give it a swing.”

  I accepted the mithril sword we’d made together through the night.

  Elder Dohal appeared to have added some hilt ornamentation that doubled as a grip.

  Now that it was completed, the weapon took the form of a double-edged bastard sword. It felt a little light in my hand; I judged that it weighed only about 70 percent of what a standard iron sword might weigh.

  The lightness made it easy to handle, but the power of a sword is directly correlated to its weight. I couldn’t imagine that being beneficial…

  But there’s probably a good reason for it, I thought as I tried taking a stance with it.

  Its balance was exquisite. It felt just as comfortable as if it were an extension of my hand.

  I gave it a light swing. That felt good.

  Next, I tried a little faster.

  A cheaper sword would feel some kind of air resistance, but this one was on par with a Holy Sword in that department. There was no resistance at all.

  Yeah. This was a good sword.

  “Now try putting some magic into it and swinging it,” Elder Dohal said in a deep voice, watching me test out our creation.

  Instead of using the rare skill “Spellblade,” I tried just pouring a bit of magic into it in the usual way.

  To start with, I put in about ten points.

  …Ohh.

  It passed through as easily as Liza’s spear. So this was the work of a dwarven master sword smith.

  Or perhaps it was the power of the mithril itself?

  Emerald-green streaks floated on the surface of the sword like ripples. This was a characteristic of high-quality mithril weapons. When I added more power, the ripples started to produce a red glow.

  Strangely, the more magic I put into the sword, the heavier it felt. After the first ten points, I thought I was imagining it, but now I could definitely tell a difference. Because it didn’t seem to have any kind of magic circuit when we were forging it, this must be a property of the mithril itself.

  I didn’t want to push it too far and break it, so I stopped adding magic after about fifty points.

  In this state, it felt almost twice as heavy as a normal sword of the same size.

  If that’s how mithril works, couldn’t they have made that giant hammer a little smaller?

  I asked about this later, but it turned out that making the hammer out of pure mithril and loading it up with magic could have an adverse effect on the mithril being worked on, which was why they used an alloy instead.

  “Indeed, fine handling. Let us have a bit of a bout.”

  With that, Elder Dohal took up a battle-ax and came forward. As soon as the battle-ax entered my line of sight, my “Sense Danger” skill reacted.

  According to
the AR display, the weapon’s status read Cursed.

  So the elder’s favorite weapon was a cursed one for whatever reason.

  “Let’s begin!”

  I avoided Elder Dohal’s powerful first swing with a light backstep.

  After all, I didn’t want to block and end up damaging the sword we’d only just made, but…

  “What are ye scurryin’ around for, boy? Do ye think so poorly of my smithing that ye expect a few blows to damage that sword?!”

  …the act seemed to have injured Elder Dohal’s pride.

  “My apologies. Here I come, then.”

  After a shot of magic to my blade, I blocked the next heavy swing from Elder Dohal.

  “Yes, that’s it! Magic makes the mithril stronger.”

  Elder Dohal’s eyes glittered with enthusiasm.

  “Don’t stop supplying it, even in the midst of battle!”

  Elder Dohal’s fighting style was so outrageous that I could barely keep up.

  If I focused too much on attacks from the ax’s blade, he started aiming for my jaw with the butt of the handle.

  And once I started watching both ends of the battle-ax carefully, he came at me with wild attacks like head butts and front kicks, making it difficult to block everything with a single sword.

  I did my best to dodge and defend, but there were a few times when his attacks managed to graze me.

  I was quick to evade, but not only was he pulling attacks from an endless bag of tricks, he was steadily cutting off my escape options like a chess master. All his firsthand experience in real combat made him an incredible opponent.

  Eventually, the match ended in my defeat when he completely backed me into a corner.

  Handing off his battle-ax to Zajuul, Elder Dohal walked over to me. In spite of all that zipping around, he wasn’t even out of breath.

  What an incredibly tough old man. He’d stayed up all night forging a sword, then sparred with me for a good half hour.

  “Let me see the sword.”

  Once I handed it to him, he examined the blade, then swung it a few times to check something.

  “There’s not a single nick or distortion on the blade. You’ve a good arm.”

  At first, I thought he was singing his own praises, but he was complimenting my skill with the sword.

  “I do not wish to pry, but ye must be older than ye appear. Ye must have wielded a sword for at least ten or twenty years to have earned that skill.”

  Well, he was right that I didn’t look my age, at least.

  I had been doing my best to avoid revealing my high level via my actions, but he had seen through me.

  Elder Dohal gazed silently at the sword in his hands for a few moments. Then, coming to some kind of decision, he began chanting.

  “Hmm. Name Order Meimei! ‘Fairy Sword Trazayuya.’”

  …Trazayuya?

  I was so surprised that it nearly showed on my face. I was lucky that I had the “Poker Face” skill.

  “You know of Mr. Trazayuya, Lord Dohal?”

  “Indeed. Ye’ve heard of him as well, have ye? Long, long ago, I used to serve that wise man. This is the best sword I’ve made in all me life, so I thought to name it for the late sage.”

  So he used to work for Trazayuya?

  Though he didn’t shed a tear, Elder Dohal did close his eyes in a moment of deep silence.

  Then, opening them again, he wordlessly held out the fairy sword to me. Caught up in the moment as I was, I instinctively accepted it.

  “This sword could not have been made without you. I am certain it will accept ye as its owner, too. Use it well.”

  “…It would be my great honor to do so.”

  I responded reverently, and Elder Dohal broke into a huge smile.

  “Today is a good day! Let us drink to it! Bring a barrel of spirits!”

  Slinging an arm over my shoulders, Elder Dohal chuckled heartily and led me to sit on the waiting cushions.

  Zajuul carried a large barrel and set it down before us with a thud, and the merrymaking began.

  A transparent reddish liquid flowed from the barrel into silver bowl-like cups.

  “Drink up!”

  “…Thank you.”

  Holding it in my mouth for a moment, I could tell its alcohol content was high. Despite that, it had a good flavor and was easy to drink. If anything, it reminded me of the aged sake I drank in Okinawa long ago.

  Unlike the distilled spirits Jojorie had served us yesterday, this drink left a fiery heat in the bottom of my belly.

  “Gah-ha-ha-ha, you drink well, youngster!”

  “Ye show much promise, to drink raw spirits like that at such an age.”

  “The last human who drank it was that self-proclaimed master swordsman, and ’e choked half to death on it!”

  The other dwarves seated themselves around us and took swigs as well.

  Following suit, I drank one cup after another. The drink itself was delicious, but I found myself craving a snack to go with it.

  Due to my body having such high stats, I didn’t get drunk easily, and it didn’t last long. So if you asked me, delicious alcohol should always be paired with a delicious dish.

  I was sure they couldn’t have heard my inner thoughts, but before long, a group of dwarf women entered the room with plates full of sliced cheese and smoked meat.

  Soon there were other snacks, too, like nuts and salted dried fish, all perfect accompaniments for drinking.

  Not to be outdone, the other dwarf men aside from the elder left and returned with a great deal of barrels. It seemed that half of them were ale, while the other half were more spirits.

  “Oh-ho! Looks good!”

  “Don’t stuff yourself too much, now! Soon, we’ll be back with something from the grill, too!”

  The female dwarves scolded the men who jumped at the plates of food.

  “Master! There he is, everyone!”

  Hearing Arisa’s energetic voice, I turned to see my kids entering the banquet hall.

  “Masterrr?”

  “We missed you, sir!”

  “Satou.”

  It had been a full day now since they’d seen me, and the younger kids immediately pounced. They must have been a little lonely without me.

  “Master, the mayor invited us to the banquet, I report.”

  “Really? I’ll have to thank Mayor Dorial later, then.”

  “Master, it sounds as though you’ve been through a great deal. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. Sorry for worrying you.”

  “Master, we brought you a change of clothes.”

  “Thank you. I’ll change as soon as the banquet’s over.”

  Nana, Liza, and Lulu each spoke up in turn. So the older group was worried about me, too.

  At my request, the dwarf women prepared nonalcoholic fruit beverages for the children.

  A cry of joy rose from the hallway leading to the kitchen.

  “Everyone! They’re making some kind of special dish, they said!”

  “Meeeat?”

  “I don’t know this smell, sir!”

  Always burning with curiosity, Arisa dashed down the hall with Tama and Pochi.

  Liza stayed seated beside me, but she looked rather restless.

  She probably wanted to see the meat, too.

  “Sorry, Liza, but would you mind keeping an eye on the kids for me?”

  “O-of course! I shall return!”

  After flashing me a rare smile, Liza hurriedly recovered her stoic expression and just about sprinted away to look after the meat—that is, the children.

  “The rest of you can go, too, if you’d like?”

  “Perhaps I’ll help bring out the food, then.”

  “Master, for Lulu’s protection, I depart.”

  Both Lulu and Nana took me up on my offer, heading over to check out the unusual cuisine.

  “You don’t want to go, Mia?”

  “Mn.”

  Mia was leaning ag
ainst my side, crunching away on a bowlful of nuts like an adorable little woodland creature. I figured nuts alone might be a bit lacking, so I added some dried fruits from Storage. This was a new creation of mine using wild cherries from the Mountain-Tree.

  “Oh-ho, aren’t ye the child of Bolenan Forest?”

  Noticing Mia, Elder Dohal called out to her with surprise.

  That said, he didn’t take the same tone of sacred reverence toward elves as the fairyfolk and little giants from the Mountain-Tree Village did.

  “I’d heard that ye went missing. Ran off with a human, did ye?”

  “Mm. Lovers.”

  That’s a bald-faced lie and you know it. Are you trying to ruin my reputation?

  “An evil sorcerer kidnapped her, so I rescued her. We’re taking her back to the forest now.”

  “Mrrrr.”

  Mia puffed out her cheeks sulkily. Guess she was hoping I’d play along.

  Of course, the culprit who kidnapped Mia during the Cradle incident was the Undead King Zen, not just some ordinary sorcerer, but I left that part out to avoid a lengthy explanation.

  “The Bolenan Senate did issue a notice requesting information on her whereabouts. Would ye mind if we send them a letter?”

  “That would be excellent, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Evidently I was being small-minded when I assumed that elves and dwarves would be on bad terms. They seemed to get along just fine.

  At Elder Dohal’s request, Mayor Dorial arranged for the letter to be sent.

  They should have received a message from the Elvish shop manager of the general store in Seiryuu City, too, but the postal system in this world wasn’t as reliable as modern Japan’s, so it couldn’t hurt to send a backup.

  I petted Mia’s hair lightly as I chatted with the dwarf blacksmiths and other artisans.

  We had some very interesting conversations. However, since the topics mostly revolved around smithing and mining and such, I spent most of the time just listening.

  According to them, gnomish magic users were the primary method of combating gas and cave-ins and such, but if no such mage was available to accompany them, the miners used scrolls. Scrolls were expensive, one miner explained, but well worth the price to save lives.

  I was also informed that these scrolls were sold in a magic shop in the dwarven mining district, not the one aboveground. Hopefully they would let me buy some!