Fun Territory Defense by the Optimistic Lord (Novel) - Chapter 123 - Habel's Astonishment

Chapter 123 – Habel’s Astonishment

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Translated by Sylph

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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[Habel]

I had no idea what had just happened.

All that was there before my eyes was the shattered form of the sword that had shared long years of hardship and joy with me.

Even so, I was a man who had once been chosen as one of the smiths called the Five Crafts in the dwarven nation. Since I was going to use it on a journey, I had made it especially sturdy, but I had not compromised on sharpness either. It should have been a good sword.

Or maybe the long journey had finally pushed it past its limit.

Otherwise, not even the Dwarf King’s orichalcum sword should have been able to cut it apart that easily.

Thinking that, I checked the cross-section of the blade. But what I saw before me was, in a sense, a familiar sight.

It was the smooth cut surface you see when you cut clean through a lump of iron too poorly made to even be called a weapon.

“…Impossible. My sword…”

Which meant only one thing: the difference in performance was that overwhelming.

The shock was so great I no longer even knew what to say.

“…Ah, was it maybe something very important? Shall I repair it?”

The boy called Van said that apologetically. Normally, I would have absolutely been shouting abuse at him. But right now, no matter what, I could not feel that way.

“R-Repair it, you say…?”

Once it breaks, there is no way to return it to exactly how it was before. Even if you drove in a core rod, heated it, and forcibly restored it, all you could restore was the appearance.

If you tried using it against another sword, it would deteriorate in no time. At worst, it would snap from the same place and that would be the end of it.

So rather than repairing it, melting it down once and remaking it would be the proper way to put it.

And yet the child before me spoke as if he could restore this broken sword to what it had been.

Without understanding any of it, I handed him the broken sword.

“…Oi. Do you know the name of the dwarf who forged that sword? Tell me, please. Don’t tell me something insane like that it was made by a human blacksmith. We’re way past worrying about orichalcum ore here.”

As I spoke words that made no sense even to me, I watched the child called Van. Then Van silently picked up the broken tip of the blade and held it so that it overlapped with the hilt and remaining blade I had handed him.

Then he closed his eyes and took on the manner of someone concentrating on something. As I wondered what he intended to do, the broken sword warped and changed shape in his hands.

“W-Wha…!?”

It wasn’t just me. Cries of shock rose all through the guild. And yet none of the people standing behind Van looked surprised at all.

It was only a little over ten seconds. In the mere ten-odd seconds Van had his eyes closed, my sword had returned to its original shape.

“O-Ohhh!?”

I had shouted before I even realized it.

“Could someone lend me a sword…? Yeah, thanks.”

Holding the newly completed sword, Van called to the people behind him and accepted one sword from them.

Still holding it, he brought my sword straight down. With a shrill metallic sound, the sword he had received afterward was cut cleanly in half.

“Ohhh!?”

Once again, a cry of astonishment escaped my mouth. I mean, it had gone through cleanly, like cutting a daikon radish with a kitchen knife. I wasn’t even sure my original sword could have done that much.

“Yeah! Feels good. Maybe because the original was good? If it’s this sharp despite the thickness, then it’s more than enough.”

Van said that with a smile, as if my complete disarray was invisible to him.

“Here you go. I’m returning it.”

At those words, I found myself receiving it respectfully with both hands. It had not happened since the time my master handed me a masterpiece to serve as an example.

The heavy, solid weight, the center of balance slightly toward the blade, the thickness and length too, all of it was the same. If there was one regret, it was that the guard, hilt, and spine of the blade had all become far more ornate than before.

Up to now, I had cast those parts aside as nothing but waste, but after being shown that level of perfection right in front of me, that exaggerated ornamentation itself began to seem like an important element.

“O-Oi…”

“Habel, how is it? That sword…”

Even though they should already have known, my companions behind me asked for my impression.

When I looked up, at a loss for words, I saw Van’s face there, calm as if nothing at all had happened.

“…Ghh! G-Grrrr…!”

Clenching my teeth, I looked up at the ceiling while hugging the sword in both hands.

Unbelievable. No, I didn’t want to believe it.

But when it came to smithing, I could not lie.

I kept groaning for a while with that inner conflict inside me, but before long the feeling of resignation covered everything.

I drove the sword I held into the ground point first. Horrifyingly, the blade pierced through the stone slab as though slicing paper, then stopped with a hard sound at the guard.

“Ha! Hahahahaha!”

Before I knew it, laughter burst out from deep in my gut.

“I yield! I can’t make a masterpiece like this either! No, this is a piece that wouldn’t pale beside any treasured sword in the dwarven nation! After being shown something like this, any excuse I make would only be ridiculous…!”

Declaring defeat, I dropped heavily onto the spot. Then I glared up at Van.

“I’ll do anything. Anything at all. Help me reproduce this sword.”

I myself thought it was truly foolish, but those words came from the bottom of my heart. I no longer cared what kind of sword it was. As a smith, I had simply been captivated by a weapon of nothing but splendid performance.

At that moment, I had indeed forgotten all about the orichalcum ore and even the dwarven nation itself, and was instead rejoicing madly in the possibilities of a new kind of smithing.