But Lluisa slowly shook her head once more.
“Fire spells can cause fire to appear, but the ensuing flames aren’t purely composed of magical energy,” Lluisa explained. “However, you have a child here capable of this feat.”
She winked again, and I did my best not to react.
“You mean Maribel?” I asked.
“Indeed,” Lluisa replied. “She’s now capable of wielding that fire. She may have retained some memories from her past, but as the years pass, one can easily forget.”
Lluisa’s face was filled with nostalgia as she smiled and turned back to Maribel.
“You mentioned during your training that you recalled being at a forge.”
“I did,” Maribel replied with a nod.
Both Rike and I gulped. The master of the Black Forest smiled.
“And could you tell me the name of the blacksmith you were with?”
The fire spirit hesitated for a moment before she spoke once more.
“Don Dolgo.”
That name rang a bell. According to the stories that Rike had told me, a great war had broken out six hundred years ago between demons and other species. During that time, a dwarven blacksmith with talents bestowed by God had forged a sword for the hero. This smith’s name was none other than Don Dolgo.
Just as Rike was familiar with this name, this legendary blacksmith remained etched into the annals of history—stories of his feats had been passed down through many generations. Rike claimed that Don Dolgo had forged an orichalcum greatsword that was sixty centimeters wide and two meters long. And apparently, Maribel had been the one to help him do that, along with his God-given powers. If God had sent Maribel to Don Dolgo, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that she had received some divine power as well.
“Speaking of,” Rike began. Everyone turned to her, and she visibly shrank beneath the weight of our gazes. “Uh, what kind of person was the hero—the one who received the blade from Don Dolgo?”
I was also curious about a person capable of swinging around an orichalcum greatsword that was two meters long and sixty centimeters wide. That was practically a giant hunk of metal.
“I’d like to know too,” Diana said. Even the Rose of the Duel Grounds has had her curiosity piqued, it seems.
I felt like Lluisa might’ve personally remembered the war six hundred years ago, but she would probably try to muddy the waters about that fact. She wouldn’t want to admit that she’d been around for such a long time.
“Umm, I think the hero came around one time. I just remember a really huge person!” Maribel replied.
“How big? As tall as Helen?” I asked.
Helen immediately stood tall at attention—it seemed fitting for a skilled mercenary. I wasn’t sure if that was the right way to compliment her, but her refined posture looked very cool. Helen was even taller than me. I was by no means short, but the fact that she towered over me meant that she boasted plenty of height. Yet, I imagined that even she would struggle swinging such a greatsword around.
Maribel shook her head. “No, the hero was actually taller than Big Sister Anne!”
“Me?” Anne asked, pointing at herself.
The imperial princess had a giantess for a mother, while her father was a human. She was certainly taller than Helen, and though she could easily fit into the forge, her bed was much larger than everyone else’s. If the hero was larger than her, then he was astonishingly tall. In other words...
“Was the hero a giant?” Rike wondered.
I silently nodded. I’d assumed, for some reason, that the hero had been human and that he’d swung a greatsword around with his muscular pecs and bodybuilder physique. Don’t misunderstand—I’m not implying any kind of personal attraction to that sort of thing.
But if he was a giant and tall to begin with, maybe the sword was simply made to fit his stature. Ugh... Sometimes, when you romanticize history and learn the truth, things end up having a mundane explanation.
“She was beautiful,” Maribel recalled.
“Wait.” I paused for a moment. “The hero was a lady?”
Maribel nodded once more.
That was also a mistaken assumption on my part; I’d thought that the hero was a man. That reminds me... I heard that the war six hundred years ago broke down a lot of barriers between races and genders. I wonder if the gender of the hero came into play when she became responsible for unifying every race—excluding the demons. Surely, the world wasn’t so simple. Something as trivial as gender wouldn’t have possibly solved all her woes in banding everyone together, but maybe it was a factor.
“I’ll admit that I wanted to learn more, but I feel like I discovered something that turns common sense on its head,” Diana said with a sigh.
I flashed a wry smile. “Yeah, it feels like we’re unraveling the truth of history.”
Some incidents were so impactful that they remained within the annals of history, passed down to this day, but oftentimes, the details were lost to time. Even back on Earth, it was all too common for progenitors to embellish some details or straight up fabricate stories, which were then passed down through the generations.
Any gaps in history were added on to by others—generally with information that strayed from the truth—and rewritten before being solidified as truth over the years. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from these tactics to mold a story about myself.
I snapped back to reality, focusing on the spirit who was responsible for assisting the forging of the hero’s blade. It seemed even Maribel couldn’t remember all the nitty-gritty details, but she was willing to grace us with her presence.
What if there comes a time when I’ll have to forge the hero’s blade? The mere prospect was so detached from reality that I’d only dare joke about it, but I couldn’t deny that the fire spirit’s company was an undeniable step in that direction. With that in mind, I once again straightened my posture.
“All right, then,” I said. “Let’s start trying to process the orichalcum.”