He had come here before, so there was no hesitation as he plunged in towards the crucible where the smiths should have been working.
He saw the blacksmiths, all of whom were familiar faces.
Unable to help himself, he sighed in relief. However, when he noticed the worried looks on the blacksmith’s faces and the direction where they were all looking, the unease which seized his heart seemed to come back to life.
“What’s wrong?”
As he called out, the eyes of the blacksmiths lit up, as though their savior had arrived.
“He’s locked himself in there and refuses to come out.”
Apart from its gigantic crucibles, this foundry also contained a workshop for the personal use of the Forgemaster, although it was closer to a miniature foundry in its own right. The Forgemaster was a dedicated worker, and when handling important projects, he would often lock himself inside and not emerge for several days.
That was a fairly common occurrence. The Forgemaster’s disciples and the other blacksmiths should not have had that distressed look on their faces.
“…It’s not strange, is it?”
“It’s true that he locks himself up fairly often… but there’s no sound of hammering. And it’s been half a day — no, almost an entire day.”
“…So maybe he’s just drawing up the plans for the design?”
“That’s never happened before.”
The Cabinet Secretary stroked his beard.
He did not feel this was particularly surprising. However, if the forgemen all felt the same way, then it should probably be an emergency.
“Then why don’t you open the door? Is it locked?”
“No, it’s not locked. However, whenever the Forgemaster retreats to that room, he hates people opening that door.”
“I see…So you want me to open it, am I right?”
It would be difficult for the Forgemaster’s disciples. But someone of an equivalent rank might have a better chance of not incurring the Forgemaster’s wrath.
I drew the short straw. Well, it can’t be helped.
“I understand. Then, let me do it. You lot should go first. Just take it as though I insisted on going in myself and you won’t get involved.”
After the smiths thanked him, the Cabinet Secretary stepped up and knocked on the door.
However, there was no response, no matter how many times he knocked.
Fearing the worst, he flung the door open with all his might.
It was the same familiar room. Surprisingly, there was no heat, even though he was only a door removed from the huge crucible. That was due to magical air conditioning. When he shifted his gaze, he saw a crimson flame blazing within the depths of the crucible.
And then, he saw someone facing the fire.
What, he’s there, isn’t he? Just as the Cabinet Secretary was about to sigh in relief, he once again held his breath.
That was because he could sense something strange and inexplicable in the air. Why was the Forgemaster silent? According to the smiths outside, he ought to have reacted immediately to the intrusion.
“Oi.”
Those words were little more than an exhaled breath, but the man should have heard it. Yet there was no response from the Forgemaster.
“Oi!”
The Cabinet was nervous now and he shouted, but as expected, the Forgemaster did not react.
Panting heavily, he advanced to the Forgemaster’s side.
“—Hey!”
“What?”
An answer at last. The Cabinet Secretary almost collapsed on account of the strength fleeing his limbs.
“What? What? Don’t make me—”
The Cabinet Secretary’s words trailed off.
Why had the Forgemaster not turned around to look at him?
Worried for his friend, the Cabinet Minister circled around to look at his face.
He looked different from usual — as though he were a hunted animal. More important than that, he had a ghastly expression on his face, as though he was ready to massacre his own people.
“…What happened?”
The Forgemaster’s face finally moved in response to the words which had slipped out by themselves. No, only his eyeballs moved, turning to look at the Cabinet Secretary’s face.
“What happened? What… happened? Hmph!”
The Forgemaster’s hand moved. He picked up his tongs, plucked out the searing-hot metal ingot from the fires of the crucible, and then chucked it at the Cabinet Master.
“Uwaaaaah!”
The Cabinet Minister scrambled away desperately, and the ingot landed on the ground with a thud.
“You bastard! Are you trying to kill me?!”
He could not tolerate this, not even from a friend.
However, the Forgemaster smiled coldly.
“Kill you? Well, you’d think that.”
Then, he reached out and grabbed the ingot. Blacksmiths typically wore heat-resistant gloves, but the shocking thing was that the Forgemaster did not. Neither was he wearing any magic items that bestowed such an effect.
He had grabbed the heated metal ingot with his bare hand.
So reckless and ridiculous was that move that the Secretary imagined he could smell and hear the Forgemaster’s flesh sizzling. The Forgemaster practically spat his words out at the wide-eyed Cabinet Secretary.
“It didn’t heat up!”
“What, what did you say?”
“This damn thing won’t heat up at all!”
Before he knew it, the Cabinet Secretary had caught the ingot tossed his way. For a moment, he imagined that it was emitting a searing heat, but t was not hot at all. In fact, it was surprisingly cold.
“What, what is this?”
That was a pointless question. In all the Cabinet Secretary’s knowledge, there was only one thing which corresponded to the description of a metal that did not get hot even when heated. Thus, the question was merely a formality.
Indeed, the Forgemaster’s next words confirmed his suspicions.
“It’s the ingot that damned undead gave me! I’ve heated it for an entire day and it won’t get hot! I’ve hammered it and it won’t change shape! I can’t even leave a mark on it! How the hell am I supposed to make armor with this?!”
“You, you don’t think he gave you a metal even he couldn’t work with?”
“I’d like to think so too. But look, there’s a shortsword made of the same metal! I can mark the ingot with it! The hell does ‘most experienced craftsman’ mean?! I’m nothing more than an idiot who can only stare dumbly at a hunk of unknown metal!”
The Cabinet Secretary struggled to think of how to comfort the high-strung Forgemaster.
“Then, then what if you asked that undead being how to work it—”
“Those who ask when they don’t know are wiser than those who don’t ask when they don’t know? Something like that, right? That’s true. The dwarves of days past do have a point. But — what does my experience count for? Look at these hands.”
He forcefully thrust them out. They were a pair of craftsman’s hands; thick, heavy and scarred from old burns. Any artisan could take pride in such hands.
“I’ve touched metal ever since I was a stupid disciple. I’ve done it longer than anyone else, until now. Because of that, it was only natural to be praised as the most outstanding artisan of my peers. And the reason for that is because I worked harder than anyone else!”
The Forgemaster’s face was twisted into knots.
“I’ve given my life to blacksmithing. I don’t think anything is impossible, and I’ve always believed that any metal can be shaped to any desired shape. — What a joke I am! Haha! What was I using to deceive myself? I was nothing more than a tiny frog in a well! And to think I dared call myself a genius. I was such a fool.”
“No, all you need to do now is start learning again, right?”
“That’s right. Yes, you’re right. Though it pains me to hear it…”