I’d never really named my creations, except for my personal blade, my Diaphanous Ice. My other works were kind of just...passed on to the client. But I did work with orichalcum, the greatest material there is, and this is probably my best work to date. I don’t think it would be too absurd to give it a name. But I also don’t want to get too creative—the name needs to make sense with the design of the knife. Guess I’ll be pretty straightforward with this one.
“All right, then how about Dragon’s...?” I trailed off. Come on, I need a name fitting for orichalcum! I can exaggerate a little, right? “How about Divine Dragon’s Claw?”
Another round of applause rang out within the forge. The knife was finally, finally finished.
That night, to celebrate, we threw a bit of a party on the terrace. Delectable dishes lined the table (I’d made them), and in the center sat Divine Dragon’s Claw, nestled on a little pedestal.
“Now then, before we make a toast...” I began.
Usually, I was quick with my toasts—they were more like a ritual I used to send off my work, and I found them to be an essential part of closing out any job. This time, I raised Divine Dragon’s Claw in the air, treating it with the utmost respect.
“I’m counting on you,” I said to Helen.
I held the blade out to her, and she nodded solemnly before reaching for it. We all stood, then stepped down from the terrace into the backyard. Illuminated by our magic lantern was a roughly made suit of armor—it was simple, just a vague humanoid shape covered in thick steel plates. This was where Helen would test the sharpness of the blade.
I’d purposefully made Divine Dragon’s Claw difficult to wield, and I’d already had her fiddle with the blade, so this was purely a test of sharpness. The Lightning Strike didn’t don her usual armor, of course. She was dressed casually, like she was ready for bed, but her attire was easy for her to move around in. And since there wasn’t anything heavy weighing her down...
“Hff!” Helen grunted.
She hardly needed any time to accelerate—she reached her top speed in a flash. In the blink of an eye, she was beside the armor target. Divine Dragon’s Claw glistened in her hand, creating a metallic streak. She was so fast that most of our family could barely keep up with her movements. And as for Rike, who had no combat training, it probably looked like Helen had vanished one moment and then reappeared the next with the knife drawn.
The glint of cold orichalcum was unmistakable, but I could sense no change on the target. I know that the orichalcum knife’s difficult to wield, but did even Helen misread her distance? Did she actually miss? All too soon, I realized that my worries were completely unnecessary as the center of the armor began to shift. It’d been split in two—the upper half of the suit fell to the ground with a deafening thud.
Even when I forged a knife using the maximum power of my cheats, it would always make a sharp, metallic ring when it clashed against another bit of metal. But the orichalcum made no sound at all when it made contact with the suit of armor. And though roughly assembled, the armor was made from thick plates of steel and crafted well enough to prevent it from being sliced in two in one swing. Usually, a soundless strike wouldn’t even be possible.
“Did you swing twice?” I asked Helen.
The Lightning Strike turned around casually, acting nonchalant, like she’d never ever swung a blade.
“Of course I did,” she said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to cut it down.” She scrunched her nose ever so slightly and added, “But yeah, this knife’s hard to use.”
Helen had swung not once, but twice in a flash. And she’d done so with a knife that she claimed was difficult to wield—one so hard to handle that she’d predicted she could barely eke out two victories out of ten fights against me. Honestly? I feel like I’d lose to her for a hundred battles in a row, no matter what disadvantages she had.
“It’s difficult to strike with my usual power, and it’s hard to steady my hand on this hilt,” Helen explained. “Since I have to put myself in an awkward position and force a weird grip, it’s hard to aim and cut where I’d like. It only went well because this target’s stationary, but if it had moved so much as an inch, I don’t think I could’ve adjusted in time.”
Only after I heard her explanation was I able to nod and kind of understand. Is that what usually runs through her mind when she’s swinging her swords around?
In any case, since our leading expert had confirmed the knife’s edge, I told myself that I was on the right track. I mustered only a wry remark: “Guess it cuts well enough.”
Another round of applause filled the dark forest, and when Helen gave a neat bow, the applause grew louder.
“It might be sharp, but if you bring this out to battle and automatically expect a win, you’ll be in for a world of pain,” Helen said, scrutinizing Divine Dragon’s Claw.
I mean, that’s what I hoped for, so I’m grateful that’s the case, but...
“Not a very convincing argument after we saw that incredible speed,” Samya mumbled.
We all nodded along. Helen puffed out her cheeks and loudly clicked her tongue—she wasn’t actually furious though, and her angry scowl was immediately replaced with a smile.
“But hey, if Helen struggles to use the blade, it must be really tough to wield,” I pointed out.
“Oh yes—that, I guarantee,” Helen agreed.
“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Helen laughed once more and crouched slightly as she solemnly handed Divine Dragon’s Claw back to me. I neatly accepted the blade and placed it back in the center of the terrace table—its rainbow glow was a mesmerizing feast for the eyes. It truly looked heavenly and was clearly the guest of honor for today’s party. We all grabbed our mugs or cups and raised them into the air.
“Now, for the moment we’ve all been waiting for—” I started.
Diana couldn’t wait. “Cheers!” she cried out, getting ahead of me.
We all laughed and raised our mugs higher. “Cheers!”
We tapped our drinks together—our cups were made of wood, so instead of the dainty glass clinks that one might usually hear, our mugs collided with dull clunks. Krul’s and Lucy’s happy cries reverberated within the nighttime forest, matching the tune of our joy.
This was indeed a party, but we were a house in the middle of the forest, isolated from the world, and we hadn’t made any trips to the city recently. As such, the celebration was slightly muted—there wasn’t much we could do about that, but I tried my hardest to make this night special. I’d made skewered chicken coated in sauce (a recipe from Earth), fried boar meat with ginger, and stewed venison in wine, and I’d added more spices (and a larger variety of them) to the soup. It took quite a bit of effort to lay out all the dishes, so I felt they were fitting for a celebration. Everyone seemed to like the food; I breathed a sigh of relief.
“So once you hand over the knife to Camilo, the request is done, right?” Rike asked. She’d impressively downed her fourth or fifth cup of liquor of the night.
I, on the other hand, was nursing my wine, taking small sips. I nodded. “Yep. It was tough work, but it was a great learning experience.”
The biggest win, of course, was that I’d learned how to work with orichalcum, the precious, fabled, legendary metal. An opportunity like this didn’t come around every day. Even if I had to test other theories out in the future, I already had a procedure—I would no longer have to grope through the darkness in search of ways to process new metals. At this point, I’d be able to handle the request of the hero or the Demon Queen...but I might’ve been getting a bit too cocky.
“Boss, when I’m with you, I get to try so many new things,” Rike said casually.
I let out a strained chuckle. “Glad to hear, but frankly, orichalcum might be as far as I can go.”
“Well, we’ve still got the hihiirokane and the adamantite, don’t we?”
“Right.”
I glanced at the kamidana in the forge, which was obscured from view where I stood. Surely, my mind was playing tricks on me, but I thought I saw the two precious metals glisten proudly. They likely wouldn’t be as troublesome as the orichalcum, but they were still legendary metals, and anything was possible. It was best to be prepared.
“If you learn how to forge with all of them, you’ll become unstoppable,” I said to Rike. “A dwarf who can work with any and all metal...”
Rike blinked at me for a moment before the widest grin stretched across her face. “That sounds wonderful. I think I’ll aim to be a dwarf like that.”