HKWM | Chapter 19

Unlike Kimaris, who was accustomed to battle, Phoras was closer to a scholar, yet he too was ultimately a demon. He found it annoying that such insignificant humans dared to target him, even though he could have handled it more cleanly, and he couldn’t deny that he got a little too excited since it had been a while since he last fought.

Yet, Noah, witnessing the horrifying scene drenched in blood and strewn with body parts, seemed utterly unmoved.

It appeared that his master argued that a child should be raised like a child, aiming to raise Noah like any ordinary human, but well. Even if a human head flew off right in front of him, it was likely not his master who wouldn’t care, but rather this young lord himself.

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“At first, I wondered how the master could dote so much on a human child… But it’s definitely interesting.”

Kimaris, catching on to what Phoras meant, laughed in a way unlike himself.

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“The young lord is ‘special’.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be a compliment from the humans’ point of view.”

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Phoras chuckled for a while before asking again.

“What do you think?”

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“What about?”

“Do you think the master knows what’s inside that tender shell and is just pretending, or has he really been deceived?”

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If there’s no malice, even if deliberately deceived, a demon might not be able to discern the truth perfectly. This young predator was only pretending to be weak and delicate to receive affection while hiding his claws…

“Shall we make a bet?”

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“Sounds good.”

It was going to be an interesting bet regardless of who won.

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“That’s how it should have been from the start.”

By now, they should realize that communicating with me is futile and stop summoning me constantly even to the extent of gathering sacrifices.

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I had dealt with something that had been bothering me, lightening my spirits, and stopped by the castle to pick up more gems. Preparing a hefty wallet for proper shopping was essential.

After finishing everything, I originally planned to join Noah right away, but I slightly altered the plan and used magic to enter the imperial city first. I wanted to commission a sword as a gift for Noah before he arrived. Preparation is crucial for surprise gifts, after all.

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Entering the imperial city, I pulled my hood down deeper. Although I had received an official identity token earlier and could have entered formally, the urgency made me use magic instead, and it felt somewhat risky. It seemed as if knights and wizards might burst in and attack me at any moment.

Even if my identity was exposed, I could simply return to the Demon Realm, but that would mean breaking my promise with Noah, which was my only worry.

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Ensuring no magical energy leaked, I headed straight to the forge. A local child, whom I gave a silver coin, easily led me to the best blacksmith around.

However, the blacksmith’s shop looked so shabby that I couldn’t help but ask again.

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“…Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes, it is.”

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It was indeed the forge of the best blacksmith in the imperial city, despite its rundown appearance. Perhaps he had invested everything into his tools and materials?

‘… Hopefully, it’s not something else he’s invested in.’

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Is there a casino here too…? Noticing my growing confusion, the child scratched the back of his head and explained.

“He’s definitely skilled. There was a time he was called the best blacksmith in the empire, so famous that renowned knights commissioned him.”

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“‘There was a time’?”

“Since some point, he stopped picking up the hammer altogether. So, I’m not sure if he’ll take your commission.”

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It turned out the best blacksmith was correct, but taking on the job might be impossible.

‘From his tone, it seems likely I’ll be turned down.’

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I could ask the child to introduce me to another forge, but something made me stubborn. If need be, I might even coerce him to take up the hammer.

Worried that my frustration might lash out, the child was visibly nervous, but I sent him away. Well, since I’m here, I might as well go inside.

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Pushing through the nearly decaying wooden door, the inside was even more dismal than the outside. The dust was thickly layered on all the neglected furniture and utensils, and the owner, a man resembling a derelict, was sipping alcohol on a chair that looked about to collapse.

He didn’t even look at me as he said,

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“Tom has brought another guest, I see. I’m no longer taking commissions, please leave.”

More polite than I expected? Certainly, a gentler attitude than the abrasive rejection I had imagined.

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Although I didn’t know the full situation, it seemed the child had repeatedly brought guests hoping this man would somehow recover and return to a normal life. I was one of those guests.

I strode over to sit opposite the man, cautiously lowering myself onto the rickety chair, tensing my thighs just in case it couldn’t support my weight. Relieved to find it sturdier than it looked, I relaxed into the seat.

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“Can you tell me why?”

The smell of alcohol was stronger inside than at the entrance, so I wrapped magical energy around my nostrils to guard against it. How much had he drunk…?

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“…You’re not angry.”

Of course. It would be understandable to be angry if someone, having paid for their errands, was abruptly told to leave. I, however, didn’t mind much, as I came from a capitalist world where it’s entirely up to the owner whether to conduct business or not, and more than anything, I wanted to obtain a sword for Noah from this man.

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The various weapons hanging haphazardly on the walls still emitted a fierce aura, convincing me that a craftsman of his caliber was suitable to forge Noah’s sword.

“Not particularly.”

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“…There’s nothing special to tell. Just the pathetic circumstances of this pitiful man.”

“If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to.”

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My goal was to acquire a fine sword, not to stir up painful memories and hurt an innocent person.

The blacksmith hesitated, sipping his drink for a long while before suddenly sighing deeply. He washed his face with dry hands a few times as if trying to compose his troubled thoughts, then began reluctantly.

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“I… I put down the hammer after my son died because of a sword I made.”

The abrupt conclusion made me frown reflexively. Why was there no build-up to this story…?

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Sensing my confusion, the blacksmith finally elaborated on the much-condensed story.

“I have only one skill, which is making swords, and I lived by doing what I could. Fortunately, my modest skill was recognized, and I came to make swords for many people, including those for knights.”

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“I see.”

“A knight may choose his sword, but a blacksmith doesn’t choose his customers. If there’s a commission, making the sword is all of my life. I would have lived my whole life that way if one of my knight clients hadn’t killed his own offspring, and if that offspring hadn’t been my son.”

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Like demons have their familiars, knights often have one or two apprentices. What knight would care about the family matters of their apprentices? The knight didn’t know that the person he killed was the blacksmith’s son, so this was all just a stroke of bad luck.

Even if he had known, what would have changed?

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The saying that all lives are equal is wrong, at least here.

No one here weighs the lives of nobles and commoners the same. Even if they knew that the apprentice had done nothing wrong and it was just that the knight was in a bad mood that day, it wouldn’t have mattered.

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“I wanted to make him pay for his crime, but no one thought the killing of a commoner by a noble was a crime. I thought about taking revenge myself, but I didn’t have the capability. If I had recklessly charged in, I would have died a dog’s death too, following my son. I couldn’t bear the thought of both father and son being killed by the same person, ending up a pointless death.”

The blacksmith poured the rest of his drink into his mouth as if he had just dumped molten metal down his throat, his expression painfully agonized. Perhaps what he swallowed wasn’t just alcohol but also memories he couldn’t forget.

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“Sometimes, I feel like all of this is my fault.”

“…Why would it be your fault?”

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“If I hadn’t been born a lowly blacksmith’s son but a noble’s son, none of this would have happened.”

“That’s a meaningless hypothesis.”

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“Since I can’t blame the culprit, I have no choice but to blame someone else.”

Instead of laughing at the absurdity, I just stared at him and asked,

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“Why didn’t you try calling a demon?”

Despite the risk of being accused of heresy or devil worship if said in front of others, the blacksmith simply smiled faintly instead of reacting with horror or anger.

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“That would be a lie if I said I hadn’t thought about it. But what would change if I summoned a demon in exchange for a human sacrifice? It would just increase the number of people as bitter and resentful as me.”

The blacksmith had picked up a book with a demon summoning circle drawn on it several times but couldn’t bring himself to read it, let alone draw it, because he couldn’t bring himself to gather the necessary sacrifices.

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His grief and anger over his son’s death weren’t so overwhelming that they would hurt others; it was his inherently kind nature that stopped him.

I peered into the half-closed eyes of the blacksmith and asked,

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“…Even if a miserable end awaits, if given the chance for revenge, what would you do?”

Only then did the blacksmith lift his head. His gaze didn’t meet mine due to the deep hood I was wearing, but it seemed he was trying to discern the true intent of my words.

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He set down the bottle he was holding.

“Living like this, merely guzzling alcohol, isn’t less miserable… Yes, I would certainly take that chance.”

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Only after hearing the blacksmith’s firm answer did I take off my hood.

“If that’s the case, bring me a sword that will satisfy me. I’ll grant what you wish for.”

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