Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, Vol. 4 (18 page)

“We face down metal at its hottest—at our hottest. A weapon can only be made when we bring everything we have to bear. What’ll happen if we half-ass it? Fail to pour our sweat and blood into it? What if we forget our own ambition?”

Mr. Welf is slamming his whole world into each strike.

As if his blood is boiling, as if he’s possessed by something unseen.

I wonder what he’s seeing in the middle of that lump of molten metal…

“I hate magic swords. They will always break before their wielder.”

Showers of sparks fly, red beams of light flash.

Flakes of burned metal are launched from the horn with every blow. And yet they all just flow harmlessly off of Mr. Welf’s black coat and to the floor. I wonder if it has some of the same qualities as adventurer’s armor…

Wait, that’s it.

His black coat is in such rough shape because it’s his work clothes.

Its black color and worn condition are all proof of how hard he’s worked, how many pieces he’s made.

“I absolutely despise magic swords. That kind of power rots people’s souls. The user, the smith’s pride—anyone and everyone. At the very least, Crozzo’s Magic Swords do.”

The all-powerful magic swords that corrupted their creators.

“Cursed magic swordsmiths.”

I think I finally understand what those words mean.

“I won’t make a magic sword. And even if I did, I’d never put it up for sale.”

Sweat dripping down to his chin, Mr. Welf raises the hammer again.

Another round of echoes rings out. The workshop is drowned out in a fierce melody of impacts.

I’ve been so wrapped up in the spectacle that I forgot to wipe the sweat from my face.

The metallic smell that hit me when I first walked in.

It was so strong that I wanted to cover my nose. But now it seems so far away.

I continue to watch Mr. Welf strike the horn over and over again.

I take a look outside the shutters and see an evening sky. It’s almost nighttime.

At last, Mr. Welf is almost finished.

“…That should do it.”

“Whoa…!”

Mr. Welf emerges from the corner of the workshop carrying a shallow box in his hands. He places it on his workbench.

I lean over the bench to get a good look and see a dark red blade inside.

The cutting edge of the blade is so thin I can almost see through it. It’s just a little bit shorter than the Divine Knife. The blade color matches the Minotaur Horn almost perfectly.

The hilt is a reddish maroon color and is probably shaped to fit my hand.

“T-this…this is…really, really good…!”

“I had good material. Out of all my work so far, this has gotta be my best.”

Mr. Welf smiles from ear to ear with the satisfaction of a job well done.

He’s being modest, but I can tell by the look in his eye he’s very proud of this one. He wouldn’t use the word “best” if he wasn’t.

I bow my head over and over to show my gratitude.

“Ah—sorry. Didn’t have time to make a sheath. I’ll have a custom one ready by tomorrow, so can you put up with a generic one for tonight?”

“S-sure, of course! Actually, it doesn’t have to be tomorrow…It’s already late.”

“Nah, it’s better to finish everything when it’s still warm.

“That’s how metal is,” he says while rotating his right shoulder.

That’s just what a smith would say. Hang on, he actually
is
a smith.
I grimace at my own train of thought.

I wonder if all smiths are people like Mr. Welf.
Images of their daily life pass through my head as I space out for a moment.

“Now, this guy needs a name.”

He leans over in front of me and takes a long, hard look at the dark red blade.

His eyes narrow as he scratches his chin with his right hand.

I’ve never seen someone focus so hard on something before…He slowly opens his mouth to speak.

“The Young Bull, Ushiwakamaru……No, the Bull Dagger, Minotan.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, WAIT! Isn’t the first one so much better?!”

“Huh? You like Ushiwakamaru better, Bell?”

“I don’t even have to think about it!”

I speak so vigorously that spit flies out of my mouth and toward Mr. Welf.

I do my best to convince him to go with the first name. “Okay then…” he says with a very sad look in his eyes, but he accepts it.

“All right, take it.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Welf!”

I grab a sheath from his weapon shelf as he holds the dagger out to me.

I say one more thank-you and reach out to take it from him…
Woosh!
Suddenly the blade is pointed right at my chest!

“Ehhh?” My jaw slacks in surprise.

“That’s it.”

“Wh-what’s it?”

“That’s the last time you call me that uptight name.”

His words just add to my dumbfounded shock as my eyes peel back.

“We haven’t known each other for long, and I can’t say we completely trust each other, either, but call me something like I call Li’l E.

“Something like friends,” adds Mr. Welf—no, Welf—with a grin.

A smile floats to my lips as I respond.

“Gotcha, Welf.”

He flips the hilt of the blade forward and I grab hold.

EPILOGUE

The Guild was as busy as ever that day, many adventurers coming and going.

However, none of their footsteps or voices reached the inside of the consultation box in the corner of the lobby.

Bell and Eina sat across from each other, on either side of a desk inside the soundproofed room.

“Crozzo? I apologize if I’m wrong, but is he part of that blacksmith family…?”

“He is…So they really are that well known?”

“I believe so, yes. Whenever adventurers or people in this vicinity hear the name Crozzo, that’s the first thing that comes to mind.”

A week had passed since Bell received his new weapon and he was just now passing on the information to his adviser. Eina forced a smile as she listened to Bell talk about his new ally and contracted smith. The young man’s name alone was enough to start a new conversation.

“But, it’s surprising.”

“Eh?”

“That there’s someone with the name Crozzo in Orario. He should be well known throughout the city by now. A famous blacksmith like that isn’t someone who can stay hidden for long.”

The reason for Welf’s anonymity was quite simple: He rejected all clients who requested magic swords.

To put it simply, it would be extremely difficult for Welf to be recognized as a Crozzo without making magic swords. The only people who knew the truth were members of
Hephaistos Familia
. By contrast, the prospective clients who didn’t know the details tended to treat Welf as a “fake” Crozzo.

“A Crozzo who won’t make magic swords is useless to me.” With the people who sought Welf out saying things like that every time, rumors of his existence had never emerged from the shadows.

While he wasn’t disappointed in Eina…Bell was sad to hear that the average person’s reaction to the name Crozzo was only to think about their magic swords.

“Excuse me, but back to what we were talking about before.”

“Ah, yes…Well, can I see it, please?”

Switching gears, Bell reminded Eina why he’d come in today.

A suddenly nervous Eina stood up, her face stiff as a board.

Bell followed suit. Turning his back to her, he took off his armor and inner shirt.

“…”

Eina’s jaw dropped when she saw Bell’s Status. Her lips quivered for a moment before she forced her mouth shut.

Only ten days had passed since he leveled up to Level 2. Despite that, his highest Basic Ability rank was already
F
, three levels up from the lowest rank of
I
.

Just how many barriers was he going to shatter before he was satisfied?

Bell pulled his inner shirt back on as he sat down. He thought now was as good a time as ever to ask his burning question.

“My battle party is a three-man cell. Is it okay for us to go to the middle levels?”

Bell’s ruby-red eyes radiated determination as he looked Eina square in the eyes. His demeanor catching her off guard for a moment, Eina took a deep breath to steady herself and closed her eyes.

The first two floors of the Middle Fortress, the thirteenth and fourteenth floors, were recommended for Level 2 adventurers with Basic Ability levels ranging from
I
to
H
. Which meant that Bell’s status was more than adequate now.

That left a relatively capable Level 1 smith and a supporter with a very low Status. It might have been a three-man cell, but it was very unbalanced. Be that as it may, monsters encountered on the thirteenth floor were not much different from the twelfth in terms of strength. Monsters like the Hard Armoreds were also encountered in the middle levels.

As long as they didn’t stray too far from Bell, there was very little danger of them being wiped out on that floor.

Their battle party just barely qualified for permission to enter the middle levels.

“…Wait a moment.”

Eina opened her eyes and left the consultation box.

Bell twiddled his thumbs for a moment, but Eina returned quickly. She was now carrying three pieces of paper that looked like tickets.

“Bell, take these.”

“Are these…”

“They’re coupons for salamander wool. Take them to Babel Tower and you’ll get a discount.”

Seeing the confused look on Bell’s face, Eina explained in further detail.

“I grant you permission to go to the middle levels. However, on one condition: Everyone in your party must be equipped with salamander wool.”

“S-salamander wool?”

“It’s a cloth infused with spiritual protection. Without it, you must never,
ever
go into the middle levels. Is that clear?”

“V-very clear!”

Eina was leaning forward, her finger in Bell’s face. Bell forced his answer through his mouth, with sweat rolling down his cheeks.

Her thin, half-elf eyebrows standing on end, Eina finally relaxed and sat back down in her chair.

“Bell, I forbid you to try to do too much. You are to retreat at the first hint of danger. Can you promise me that?”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

Bell nodded in response to Eina’s stern emerald gaze.

Eina wanted to make him understand the anxiety that came from not knowing what was waiting in the middle levels.

She paused for a moment so that her words could sink in.

“Give it your best.”

Her eyebrows relaxed, Eina gave him a sincere smile.

Bell left the Guild and headed off toward the Dungeon, where his friends were waiting for him, that smile fresh in his mind.

“RugyaAH?!”

An arc of red light, and a silverback fell motionless to the floor.

The red light came from a dark red dagger in Bell’s left hand. It cut through the Dungeon’s fog like a torch’s flame through darkness.

Sensing a new monster charging through the thick fog, Bell wasted no time in bringing the Hestia Knife into position.

“Hyaaa!”

“GEEH?!”

Stealing the first blow with speed beyond Level 1, Bell cut into his target with a high-speed counterattack.

An imp screamed out in pain before the pieces of its body hit the grassy floor.

“The fog is going away!”

Bell heard Lilly’s voice at his side, through a fog so thick it made the tenth floor look like a walk in the park.

They had reached their destination on the lower twelfth floor: the room that connected to the thirteenth.

The fog only filled about half of the square room. As soon as they made it through, there would be nothing to cloud their vision.

Prums were known for their great eyesight, and Lilly was spot-on. They were closing in on their destination.

Shuff-shuff-shuff.
The three of them stayed close enough to hear one another’s footsteps in the grass. Welf stayed close by, careful not to get separated as they advanced farther into the room.

“!”

The white fog wavered like smoke for a moment as they walked into the clear.

A swarm of monsters greeted Bell’s eyes as he quickly scanned the room. The back wall looked like jagged boulders stacked on top of one another behind the beasts.

The other walls up to this point had been an odd yellowish color, but now ash-colored rocks were starting to take over. A massive hole sat in the middle of the back wall.

—That was it!

The entrance to the middle levels.

Thump, thump.
Bell’s heart was in his throat.

“Haa!”

He left Welf and Lilly behind and charged forward.

Ignoring the intimidating roars of the monsters, Bell used his Agility to weave through them with ease.

“
?!”

One swing of his red dagger, and a Hard Armored disintegrated into ash.

Despite aiming slightly lower than its chest, the shock waves generated on impact hit the monster’s magic stone and destroyed it.

‘The Young Bull, Ushiwakamaru.’

It was a dagger about 15 celch in length. Made by Welf from the Minotaur Horn, it was much different from the Hestia Knife’s precise slashes in that it utterly destroyed everything in its wake with sheer power.

Two arcs of light carved their way forward, one of purple and one of crimson.

Bell mixed his Agility with a double-bladed attack as he left a trail of dead monsters in his dust.

“Now that’s how it’s done…Hell yeah!”

“Hegyaaaa?!”

Welf charged forward with his longsword over his shoulder. Watching Bell tear through enemy ranks with the weapon that he forged brought a smile to his face. Just ahead of him, Bell sent two more imps to the ground with spinning kicks.

“OOWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“You’ve come to play, too…!”

The floor shook as a massive body emerged from the fog.

Welf changed course to engage the orc that had a natural weapon clutched in its grasp.

“—KIIIIIIIII!”

“?!”

However, a shrill shriek pierced his eardrums before he could close the distance.

It came from a bad bat, flying just overhead.

Welf was disoriented by the intense screams of the monstrous winged rodent and took a knee to steady himself.

The orc wasted no time in seizing this opportunity and swung its club down at Welf with all of its might.

“Mr. Welf?!”

“!”

Lilly’s yell alerted Bell to what was going on behind him. He knew immediately how dangerous the situation was and moved to assist.

Since the monster had Welf pinned down, Bell didn’t have a clear shot. Firebolt was not an option.

He made a split-second decision.

Slamming his foot in the ground and launching himself toward the orc, Bell set a course to engage the monster in close-quarters combat.

“Lilly, the broadsword!”

Bell’s voice cut through the chaos.

Lilly instantly realized what Bell had in mind.

She jumped forward and wrapped her hand around the hilt of a broadsword that had been strapped to the outside of her backpack.

Pulling to release the restraints, she brought the sword handle up to her side. The weapon itself still hung in a side strap. The blade as long as she was tall, their combined shadow made a perfect plus sign in the grass.

Putting her body directly in Bell’s path, she spun her back to him.

Bell reached out and grabbed the hilt, withdrawing the silver blade as if Lilly herself was the sheath.

“—!!”

Full speed.

The orc’s club was a mere heartbeat away from crushing Welf’s head when Bell crashed into their battle with everything he had.

“OOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!”

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!”

The orc’s downward stroke was intercepted by Bell’s upward diagonal slash.

The broadsword took the brunt of the orc’s attack and sliced the natural weapon in half.

“BUBEEH?!”

A cry of surprise.

The orc’s pupils shrank in shock as it watched its powerful attack fail.

Bell’s speed and momentum had combined into an attack strong enough to overpower the orc’s attack head-on.

Welf saw an opening for his own strike and jumped up and over Bell. Spinning in midair, he separated the orc’s head from its shoulders in one gallant stroke.