"Uh, Tanton…"

"Yes?"

"The blacksmith visit was supposed to be just the two of us, remember?"

"That’s right."

Muyon spoke in a slightly complaining tone, pointing a finger at the person beside me.

"But why is she here?"

Even though Muyon was blatantly sarcastic, Asti, as usual, just glanced at her with an expressionless face, as if she had no idea what was going on.

Hmm. Well…

It’s not like I could just say, "Actually, she’s an assassin maid who doesn’t really want to kill me, but I’m worried that leaving her alone might change that," so I could only muster a strained smile.

Muyon sighed and looked ahead again, seemingly resigned.

She probably couldn’t bring herself to say we should leave Asti alone, knowing that she had been kidnapped and trained as a slave.

I’m sorry, Muyon! I’ll treat you to a meal next time.

With no further conversation, we followed Muyon’s lead and arrived at the blacksmith.

The blacksmith’s shop was distinct from the other modern-style buildings, with walls made of cement and pebbles. The flat roof extended out to cover the entrance, offering a rugged, almost rectangular design.

All of this gave the building a very crude image, perfectly suited for a place called a blacksmith’s shop.

One thought crossed my mind as I looked at the blacksmith.

…It’s smaller than I expected.

Given how highly the Deputy Commander and Muyon had praised it, I thought the blacksmith would be more impressive, but it felt more like a small, quaint workshop in the countryside run by a grandfather as a hobby.

"The master runs the place alone, so it’s a bit small. But considering he’s the only one working here, it’s actually quite large."

Muyon seemed to read my thoughts and explained on behalf of the blacksmith.

Well, in a world where people claim to be blacksmiths with nothing more than an anvil on the street, it wasn’t surprising. And usually, these humble-looking places are where the real masters work.

Muyon approached the blacksmith’s door and knocked gently.

"Uncle, are you there?"

Uncle? Could she be familiar with the blacksmith?

After Muyon’s voice rang out, there was no response for a while until the sound of shuffling footsteps echoed from within.

Without any words, the door swung open.

Behind it stood an old man, hunched over, with his head covered by a hood that obscured his face. However, one thing was clear: his lips were twisted in a way that suggested he was full of displeasure.

His eyes, barely visible beneath the hood, focused on me. The intensity of his gaze was so unsettling that even I, who had never flinched before an external god—though that was mostly because they all appeared as beautiful girls—found myself recoiling slightly.

He seemed to be sizing me up, but then his gaze withdrew.

"…Where did you pick up another weak-looking fellow?"

"Hehe, he wants to have a weapon made here."

"A weapon? Hmph."

The old man’s voice was raspy, filled with disdain as he clicked his tongue and turned his back on us.

"I thought I made it clear that I wouldn’t sell weapons to anyone with more pride than skill?"

I was taken aback by the sudden harsh words.

Ugh. He certainly gave off the vibe of a stubborn old master running a workshop in a dark fantasy world. Like a character meant to add authenticity to the setting.

"No, Tanton isn’t like that! He’s taken down two external gods already, you know?"

"This weak-looking guy?"

The old man, who had been spouting insults as if it were nothing, still looked displeased, but upon seeing Muyon, he seemed to decide to let it slide for now and gestured for us to enter.

"Come on in, then."

As I moved to enter the blacksmith’s shop, Muyon came closer to me.

"Don’t mind him, Tanton. Uncle Simtol has been disappointed by knights who failed to use the weapons he crafted for them, so he’s a bit grumpy."

…Knights who failed to use their weapons properly, huh?

I suddenly recalled the day we went to capture the Gardener, when the lone hunter’s recklessness and Agartha’s escape led to the deaths of several knights.

Considering how those people had misused the weapons crafted for them, it was no wonder the blacksmith felt disheartened.

Understanding the blacksmith’s perspective, I stepped inside the workshop.

As soon as I entered, the acrid smell hit my nose, and I almost grimaced.

It wasn’t just me; even Asti, who had followed me inside, was covering her nose with her hand.

Still, it seemed like a good idea not to show any discomfort.

Simtol noticed this and gave Asti a disapproving look.

"And who’s this?"

"…I’m his…."

Before Asti could casually spout nonsense again, I quickly covered her mouth with my hand.

Are you crazy?! If you say something like that here, it’ll be an instant scandal!

"She’s a child I’m looking after because she has nowhere else to go."

"…Well, if she’s just a kid, I suppose there’s no helping it."

Seeing that I answered for Asti, Simtol’s expression softened suddenly.

He seemed to have a soft spot for children. Maybe he wasn’t as ill-natured as he first appeared.

The inside of the blacksmith’s shop was quite simple, in contrast to its exterior.

There was an anvil, a furnace with a blazing fire, tools for weapon-making hanging above, and a variety of weapons laid out carelessly, almost as if they were an afterthought.

The setup was efficient, designed for the master to work precisely and deliberately, exuding the scent of a seasoned craftsman.

"Excuse me, Uncle. Could I ask you to make a weapon?"

"Make a weapon? Just take whatever’s lying around here."

Simtol gestured to the weapons scattered in front of us.

While they weren’t unusable, they clearly weren’t in the best condition and certainly didn’t compare to the gear Muyon was wearing.

"Uncle…."

"What reason do I have to trust some unknown guy and make him a weapon?"

"You made one for me."

"I made yours because you reminded me of your father."

I worried that Simtol’s blunt words might hurt Muyon, but she seemed unfazed, as if she was used to it, and continued to plead with him.

"Uncle, please. Just this once."

"Heh, why are you so stubborn today, girl?"

Seeing how hard Muyon was pleading on my behalf, I couldn’t just stand by.

I needed to show him that I was different from those other knights. So, I steeled my gaze and approached Simtol.

Because of his hunched back, Simtol had to look up at me.

"What is it? Are you going to threaten me now?"

"…I need your weapon. To save more people—no, to save this empire."

Simtol’s expression turned incredulous.

This was my chance to push forward.

"My goal is to take down the Giant of the Snowy Mountain."

"…?"

I could see Simtol’s gaze change slightly.

Now was the moment to convince him.

"The Giant of the Snowy Mountain is incredibly powerful. Even a half-hearted knight wouldn’t stand a chance against even a regular external god, let alone that. That’s why I’m here, to request a weapon. I may be lacking now, but I’ve come here to find a weapon that will grow with me."

After finishing my pitch, I knelt down before Simtol.

Muyon, startled, tried to wave me off, but I didn’t stop.

I need to become stronger.

There are limits to relying solely on the Party Piper’s power.

That skill should only be used to subdue opponents at critical moments; what I really needed was mastery in martial arts.

To achieve that, I needed a better weapon.

"If you make me a weapon, I’ll treasure it. I won’t let your efforts go to waste."

With that final plea, I ended my appeal.

If he didn’t accept it, then it was over here.

Simtol simply stared at me.

How much time passed, I couldn’t tell.

Then I heard a deep sigh, and Simtol began to walk somewhere.

Had I failed to persuade him?

Feeling disappointed, I watched Simtol, but then he turned around and frowned at me.

"What are you waiting for? Aren’t you coming?"

Simtol threw out his words gruffly and then continued walking.

…He could’ve just said so.

This man is so unsentimental.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I twisted my lips a few times and followed behind him.

Simtol led us to the basement of the blacksmith’s shop.

As we descended the stairs, the heat seemed to intensify with each step.

After descending all the stairs and opening the door at the bottom, I was shocked by what I saw.

Something that looked like Leah, but unlike Leah, its body was made of fire, shooting flames upward.

It was almost certainly something related to an external god.

"The fire you saw in the furnace earlier comes from this little one."

Simtol chuckled as he explained.

So that’s why the flames were so steady and constant.

But why is this thing here?

"They say that these minor gods can manifest anywhere. You knights call them shards that have broken off from external gods. I don’t know how it happened, but it appeared suddenly in the basement when I was still in my prime, and I’ve been keeping it ever since."

It seemed like something that could get you executed for treason.

"What? You think I’m crazy enough to keep it a secret? Of course, I reported it to the knight order, and the princess said I could use it for the blacksmith’s tools if needed, so I’ve kept it here."

Simtol answered in an exasperated tone.

If he hadn’t reported it, the Deputy Commander wouldn’t have recommended this place to me.

Why would the princess allow such a thing?

Maybe she felt some kinship with it, being related to fire herself.

...Knowing her personality, that seemed plausible.

"So, why are we here…."

"If you really defeated an external god, then facing a little thing like this shouldn’t be a problem."

Simtol pointed at the fire spirit as he spoke.

"It’s about time to feed it. If you can do that yourself, I’ll grant your request."

Simtol made it sound like a daunting task.

If other knights had heard this, it would have been like a bolt from the blue.

But to me, it sounded different.

…This is way too easy.

If he’s willing to go through with it just for this, I feel like I’m getting off too easily.

It felt a bit like cheating, but since this was a task he gave me, I would just carry it out quietly.

"…Don’t overdo it. Even knights who have defeated regular external gods have trembled in fear just facing this one…?"

Simtol was speaking gruffly, but then his mouth snapped shut.

That’s because I was already striding forward, grabbing a handful of charcoal that seemed to be the fire spirit’s food, and approaching it.

The fire spirit, which had been quietly emitting flames, lowered its stance slightly, as if wary of my approach.

"Huh? Unknown human."

"Hello, want something to eat?"

"Go away…!"

The spirit spoke in a disgruntled tone, but since it didn’t attack immediately, it didn’t seem to be a bad spirit.

It was raised by a human, so it would be strange if it attacked.

"Should I leave, then?"

"…Wait? You can understand me?"

"Of course. I came here to play with you."

I carefully continued the conversation, recalling how I had spoken with minor gods in the underground prison.

Once it realized I could understand it, the fire spirit’s expression brightened considerably.

"It’s the first time I’ve met a human who understands me!"

"Yeah, yeah. Do you want to eat this?"

"Yes!"

Just the fact that we could communicate seemed to have created a bond, which made me wonder how much these beings had wanted to talk to humans.

When I placed a piece of charcoal in its mouth, it chewed it contentedly, its eyes smiling. It was so cute that I couldn’t help but pet its head, and since it didn’t seem to mind as long as I didn’t attack, it wasn’t too hot.

It was just a little warmer than a human’s body temperature.

"Heehee!"

The spirit made a cute noise, clearly enjoying the attention as it continued to chew.

If Leah was like a cat, this spirit, initially wary but quickly warming up, was more like a dog.

As I fed it piece by piece, the spirit eventually finished all the charcoal and, satisfied, leaned back against the wall, patting its belly with a happy expression.

Its actions were so endearing that I almost wanted to take it with me if it didn’t have an owner.

"…Whew, my back. Sir, it’s all done, so now…."

As I straightened up and stretched my back, I turned around to find Muyon and Simtol giving me strange looks.

Muyon seemed to be in awe as if she had witnessed something extraordinary, while Simtol’s expression was inscrutable.

However, I could tell that neither of them had a negative reaction.

We returned to the blacksmith’s shop.

Standing next to Muyon, I waited quietly for Simtol to give his response.

Simtol returned to his usual stern expression and, without a word, walked back to the anvil.

Thinking he was going to turn me down, I started to consider finding another blacksmith.

"...A sword should do."

"...!"

Finally, he gave his answer.

I was about to respond excitedly, but Simtol raised his hand to stop me.

"Don’t get too excited. The better your mood, the more dignified you should act if you want to be well-regarded."

"…Thank you!"

"Come back in a week. I won’t charge you this time."

He even declared that it would be free, which was a huge surprise.

Muyon also looked at Simtol in amazement as he began gathering materials.

"I’m good at keeping my promises. So stop with the unnecessary questions and go about your business."

Could a gruff voice sound so warm today?

"Yes, sir."

I had successfully secured a weapon.

Now, all that was left was to visit the market and gather information, and I would have completed my tasks for the day.

Things were progressing more smoothly than I had expected, which made me feel good.

Just then, I heard a sharp metallic sound and turned to look at Asti.

…Although she quickly put it away, I saw that she was holding a knife in her hand.

"What’s that?"

"I was going to show that blacksmith what’s what if he kept resisting… mph!"

…Tsk.

That won’t do.

Before Simtol could notice, I quickly covered Asti’s mouth with one hand, lifted her up, and carried her out of the blacksmith’s shop.

"Thank you, Uncle!"

"Didn’t I tell you not to get excited?"

Muyon also thanked him and quickly followed me out.

As a result, we didn’t hear it.

"...It feels like I’m seeing that guy again."

Simtol’s muttering went unheard by us.