Chapter 108 - The Witch and the Demon King
It seemed that the gyoza and ale had truly pleased him. Volf, with his belly slightly rounded, lounged lazily against the sofa.
Dahlia stifled a laugh at his defenseless, post-meal appearance, reminiscent of a contented lion.
“That was really delicious. The gyoza and ale could easily become an endless cycle...”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them.”
“I feel like if I keep this up, I might really become round...”
If Volf were to become round, life might be more peaceful, but it would be troublesome for work. If he couldn’t jump and got bitten by monsters, it would be a problem.
The smell of gyoza still lingered in the room.
Turning up the cool wind fan a notch, Dahlia brought out the liquor set they had bought on their outing. The transparent glass cups were adorned with red and navy blue lines.
She placed a large ice cube in the thick cup and poured in some Eastern liquor.
Setting it on the low table in front of the sofa, she sat down.
“Dahlia, are you still feeling down?”
“Well... a little.”
She had enjoyed the meal and wasn’t particularly dwelling on anything, but Volf seemed to see right through her. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, showing deep concern.
“It’s about today, isn’t it...”
“Yes. I realized how lacking I am in strength. As a magical toolmaker, I dreamed of someday surpassing my father... but I’m still far from that.”
It was good to recognize her own arrogance and immaturity, but it still stung.
If only her father were still alive, he could have taught her—such thoughts made her feel utterly pathetic.
This way, her father wouldn’t rest in peace, and it would be disrespectful to Ozwald, who had offered to teach her.
“Today, you decided quickly... Are you really okay with learning from Ozwald?”
“Yes, there’s a lot my father didn’t teach me, so this will be a great help.”
“Wouldn’t any other magical toolmaker do?”
“Well, the most impressive magical toolmaker I knew was my father... and now, the most impressive one I know is Ozwald-san. Besides, it’s rare for someone to teach you without you being their disciple.”
In the royal castle, there might be more impressive magical toolmakers, and some mages who create magical tools might have specialized skills.
But Dahlia didn’t know any of those magical toolmakers.
“Also, there’s something I really want to learn from him.”
“Is it that important?”
“Do you remember Ozwald mentioning ‘composite enchantment’? If I can master that, I might be able to layer magic onto swords.”
“Oh! Now that you mention it...”
“And if I can increase my enchantment magic value, I might be able to create a somewhat powerful magic sword. The development of magical tools could expand even further—when I thought of that, I immediately agreed.”
Volf’s expression darkened, and his gaze fell.
The fifty gold coins for the classes were indeed a hefty sum.
She would pay for it herself, but she should have consulted with Ivano from her company first. It was only natural for him to think she lacked caution.
“...Dahlia, aren’t you pushing yourself too hard?”
“I’ll make sure to listen carefully, so I won’t overdo it with tasks I can’t handle or dangerous enchantments. I’m sorry, but the fairy crystal glasses will have to wait...”
“No, that’s fine anytime. More importantly, I’m... worried about Ozwald.”
“Ozwald-san mentioned that age makes enchantments more difficult. But I think he still has much more magical power than I do.”
Though Ozwald is still an active magical toolmaker, he has mentioned the physical toll of age.
Considering he would be teaching rare material enchantments, Volf’s concern was understandable.
That’s why she decided to share Ozwald’s side of the story.
“Well, Ozwald-san also made a request. His son is in the High Academy’s magical tool department. So... if anything were to happen to him, he wants me to teach his son what he taught me. Since, like my father, things can happen suddenly...”
“...I see.”
“Yes. My father's passing was sudden too...”
“Indeed, only another magical toolmaker could do that. By the way, doesn’t Ozwald have any disciples?”
“Right now, he only has an assistant.”
Dahlia couldn’t tell him that last time Ozwald said “My wife eloped with an employee,” and this time,he said, “I fired my disciples because they made advances on my wives.”
Perhaps Ozwald’s bad luck with disciples is directly proportional to his good luck with wives. Thinking this, she quickly dismissed the thought.
“Ozwald probably wants his son to take over, right?”
“I think so. My father passed away before either of his two disciples could take over though...”
As she spoke, the ice in the guinomi clinked.
Picking up the guinomi, she noticed the cold glass was beaded with condensation.
Taking a sip, the chilled liquor flowed over her lips, refreshingly cold. Though diluted and less aromatic, it was smooth and quenched her thirst.
It was a perfect match for the slightly overindulgent dinner.
“...Somehow, I feel like my mother on the other side is saying, ‘I hadn’t taught you enough.’”
Volf, who had been drinking too, seemed to recall something. Seeing him with a slight wry smile, she couldn’t help but ask.
“Do you feel like there are things you weren’t taught?”
“My mother mainly taught me guard techniques and swordsmanship against humans. I’ve practiced against monsters, but... maybe I should learn those too.”
“Are guard techniques and swordsmanship against humans worth learning?”
“Yeah. I’ve been putting it off because human combat is rare, but thinking about it, there are humanoid monsters too.”
“Humanoid monsters?”
“Like zombies and ogres. And dullahans, though they have no head, are still humanoid. And then there are the cyclopes, though they’re huge.”
They were indeed humanoid, but Dahlia couldn’t imagine swordsmanship techniques meant for combat against humans working on them.
Do zombies have vital points? Where is the weak spot on a dullahan? And cyclopes, though humanoid, are just too big.
“...There are so many types of monsters.”
“There are mutated species too. Sometimes you can’t tell by looks.”
That’s the tricky part about monsters.
In different regions, there are specialized mutated species, and some individuals evolve uniquely. It would be great if you could tell at a glance, but sometimes you don’t know until you fight, or until they use magic.
This is part of what makes monster subjugation so challenging.
“Yeah. On the last expedition, I took down a purple bicorn.”
“A purple bicorn? I’ve never heard of that.”
“I’ve only seen it twice, but it has incredibly high magic defense. Ozwald might know the effects of enchanting it. Didn’t you say you wanted a bicorn horn before? Right now, the Adventurer Guild is processing one whole bicorn.”
“Volf, did you... buy it?”
He said it so casually, but a bicorn, especially a mutated one, must be incredibly expensive.
Staring at him, Volf crunched on the small ice cube in his guinomi.
Surprised by his sudden action, she watched in wonder as he swallowed the ice.
“When we talked about materials you wanted before, you said, ‘If you buy it, I won’t let you into the tower.’ But since I took it down myself... could you make an exception?”
It was around the time Volf returned from the giant frog hunt.
She had mentioned the bicorn horn as one of the materials she wanted. Later, worried he might buy it, she said she wouldn’t let him into the tower if he did.
But she hadn’t expected Volf to remember all that and bring it up now.
“Well... I won’t keep you out of the tower, so tell me the price.”
“I got it at a special wholesale price as a reward for this expedition.”
“How much?”
“...Eleven gold coins.”
“I’ll pay.”
While thinking it would fit within her savings, she noticed that Volf interlocked his fingers.
Sitting up straight on the sofa, he turned to her with a serious expression.
“Could you accept this bicorn as research material?”
“Research material?”
“Yeah, the bicorn might be useful for magic swords, so let’s make it our research material. If there are parts usable for magical tools, feel free to use them. If it turns a profit, put it towards Ozwald’s fee or your own technical fees.”
“But wouldn’t that be a loss for you?”
“No. If it becomes material for magic swords, that’s enough. Besides, making magic swords requires knowledge, so I want to provide support for the lesson fee you have to pay to ‘Professor Oswald’. I don’t really understand it, but he must be a good teacher for you.”
‘Professor Oswald’—the term fit oddly well.
The mutated bicorn was indeed an intriguing material. Ozwald might know various effects it could have.
If it could be used for magic swords, great. If it could be used for magical tools and turned a profit, she could secretly add it to magic sword materials. She could gradually repay any debts. If needed, she had enough funds to cover it.
Most importantly, Volf’s expression today made it clear he wouldn’t back down.
“...Alright. I’ll take you up on your offer this time.”
As she bowed her head, Volf smiled with visible relief.
“Volf, I hope you find a good teacher for swordsmanship too.”
“Yeah, I’ll ask around among my seniors.”
Unfortunately, Dahlia knew nothing about swords or martial arts.
In fact, among commoners, there was hardly anyone who could teach a knight like Volf.
“But Dahlia, even without learning from Ozwald, you’re already making useful magical tools. I think you’re fully capable.”
“It’s only recently that I’ve been able to make things like this...”
She placed a new ice cube in the empty cup and slowly poured in some cloudy white liquor. The swirling ice clinked against the glass, making a pleasant sound.
“Did your father stop you from making things freely like now?”
“My father, and, well, my ex-fiancé, always told me to avoid dangerous things. I tend to act on impulse, moving without thinking... I think they wanted me to restrain myself before things got dangerous. And maybe they wanted to protect me.”
“I can understand wanting to stop someone if they think it’s dangerous.”
“Well, now that their restraint is gone, I feel free.”
She made the magical tools she thought of, one after another, with both successes and failures.
Though she caused trouble for Volf and others, she was making magical tools that many people could use. It was incredibly fun and satisfying.
“No matter what I try to make, you never outright stopped me and you always stayed by my side. I never realized how nice it was not to be rejected.”
“I want you to avoid danger, but I don’t want to reject what you want to do. You’re a magical toolmaker.”
His words brought her immense relief.
Along with that, a request came to mind.
When making magical tools, she often thought of her past life. She couldn’t be sure her judgments, influenced by that, were always correct.
“I’m having fun making things freely now, but there’s a chance I might unintentionally create something that harms people or has negative effects... I want to avoid that.”
“I don’t think you’d make such magical tools.”
“I hope not. But if I ever try to make something I shouldn’t, will you tell me, Volf?”
“Of course, I’ll tell you. And if I think something is worth making or want you to make something, I’ll push for it.”
Volf would surely tell her if he noticed.
Though when it came to magic swords, she suspected he might push for it regardless of minor issues.
“I’ll do my best not to make magic swords that harm people.”
“That hesitation is so like you, Dahlia...”
“You were the same, Volf...”
The “Dagger of the Demon King’s Minion” and the “Crawling Magic Sword” they made together—though they made them, she couldn’t confidently say they were safe.
From now on, she planned to learn thoroughly from Ozwald and ensure safety in her creations.
But there was no history of human-made magic swords. No reference materials.
Making artificial magic swords was an adventure. Absolute safety was impossible.
“I’ll do my best not to make magical tools or swords that harm people. I don’t want to be called a witch and be chased away.”
As Dahlia spoke, Volf, holding his guinomi, laughed and said:
“Don’t worry. If you become a witch targeted by people, I’ll become the Demon King.”
Comments
Post a Comment