[Side Story – Heresy [6]]
[37]
The sword shatters upon contact with the hammer.
It was a blade worthy of being called a legendary sword.
A renowned craftsman of the Empire had personally forged and inspected this sword.
It wasn’t something that would break so easily just from clumsy swings.
Of course, during combat use as a weapon, microscopic cracks were bound to accumulate over time, and occasionally, a blade might break because of those cracks.
However, no matter how unlucky things got, Delun could never have imagined that the sword would shatter into pieces along such minor cracks.
In this incomprehensible situation, Delun tore off the shoulder plate covering his shoulder to block the hammer.
Krrk!!
As he blocked the hammer, about half of the shoulder plate cracked and broke apart.
The material of the shoulder plate was not some cheap scrap iron that could break so easily under these circumstances.
“…”
Delun couldn’t shake off his bewilderment.
No matter how sharply he honed his senses, the blind man was only using physical strength to swing the hammer.
The hammer itself was crude, and there was no trace of mana or any similar energy.
Delun was thoroughly confused—was the blind man some kind of extraordinary master who could “see” like a divine entity?
Swish!
With a puzzled mind, Delun drew a spare sword from his waist.
By the time Delun had done so, the blind man had already spun around, aiming for Delun’s waist with the hammer. Anticipating the sword’s potential breakage, Delun nonetheless clashed weapons with him.
Crack!!
This time, it wasn’t Delun’s sword but the blind man’s hammer that crumbled like sand.
Caught off guard by the sudden loss of weight in the weapon he was holding, the blind man momentarily lost his balance.
Without hesitation, Delun kicked the blind man in the waist.
Thud!!
Though Delun was the one who landed the kick, it was also Delun who was pushed back.
In this situation where neither used mana, the pure physical strength of the blind man clearly surpassed Delun’s.
Delun judged that continuing to face the blind man purely with physical abilities was dangerous and attempted to utilize mana.
At that moment, a raspy voice echoed in his ear again.
[Three times. Better than an ordinary person, but you don’t seem blessed enough to be called fortunate…]
“…”
[What makes you so reckless to love ‘gambling’ and ‘adventure’?]
Ting!
Before long,
The sound of the hammer echoing through the dark underground had ceased. Instead, the sound of a metal coin being flicked began to reverberate through the cavern.
“This is interesting.”
The owner of the raspy voice slowly emerged from the deep darkness, approaching Delun.
“You, who seem to have no special blessings…”
A woman.
“How did you manage to capture His interest?”
The woman’s face was young and beautiful.
However, the hand that caressed the coin was covered in wrinkles like an old woman’s.
Her voice was beautiful, but one of her eyes was milky white.
Her hair was lush and purple, yet her gait was unbearably slow, as if she were crawling.
Smiling beautifully, the woman flicked a coin toward Delun.
“Ah, I see. You must have brought quite a large bet, intending to create a grand situation. Something so immense it could make the entire world tremble—a truly colossal bet.”
Ting… Tididdik…….
The coin rolling on the ground stopped at Delun’s feet.
Silent, Delun touched the forbidden book in his bosom.
“…”
Among the contents written in the forbidden book were records of an ancient faith once followed by the dwarves.
However, since the information in the forbidden book was fragmented, Delun needed more details to achieve his “purpose.”
Nord was known as the region where dwarves once flourished in ancient times.
Additionally, Nord still retained a tribal structure, and some tribes continued to uphold folk beliefs that dated back so far their origins were hard to trace.
Thus, while the imperial army occupied the surrounding areas, Delun sought out the most secluded, conservative tribe in Nord, known to strongly preserve dwarven culture, hoping to meet a “wise one.”
If fortune favored him, Delun expected to gain some form of achievement through interaction or trade with the “wise one.”
But the woman Delun faced—the “wise one”—was not simply an elder preserving forgotten traditions.
“…”
Delun tried hard not to show his tension as he faced the woman.
However, the woman was equally unfamiliar with the current situation as Delun.
The wise one, or guide, carried remnants of a bygone era.
Dwarves, referred to as such, were impulsive and adventurous, loving barren adventures and gambling.
Especially in gambling, the dwarves’ obsession bordered on madness.
That madness, deeply ingrained in the entire race, once led to their prosperity and eventually hastened their downfall.
Even the last pure-blooded dwarf met their end in a manner truly befitting a dwarf.
The blood of the ancient fallen dwarves flowed faintly within the woman’s tribe.
The tribe inherited the longing of their fallen ancestors.
However, what they inherited was mostly the shell of a culture, with most of its power having disappeared.
Therefore, other religious groups didn’t bother uncovering or suppressing the secret preservation of dwarven culture by some tribes in Nord. What the woman’s tribe upheld was merely a folk belief honoring the legends of the past.
While commemorating the folly of their ancestors who dreamed impossibly high before falling, the woman had been offering formal prayers until now.
There had never been any response to her prayers, at least not until the day before Delun arrived.
The woman spoke.
“Show me your bet.”
“…”
Delun looked into the woman’s single glittering eye and then pulled out the forbidden book from his bosom, extending it to her.
The woman opened the forbidden book in the darkness.
Her remaining eye read the text even in the dim light.
Among the contents recorded in the forbidden book was part of a “prayer” that had been lost due to failed transmission within her tribe.
Upon discovering the prayer, the woman burst into a raspy laugh.
Her heart raced. It felt as though the dormant desires of her ancestors’ faded blood were pulsating.
“♬~~~”
Humming the prayer in a language Delun didn’t understand, the woman started walking somewhere.
Following behind her, Delun noticed a faintly glowing candlelight far ahead.
Under the candlelight, a small, worn-out altar that had faded over an incredibly long period of time became vaguely visible.
“♬~~~”
Continuing to hum the prayer, the woman reached the altar.
On top of the altar lay a basket filled with hundreds of corroded coins.
The woman picked up the basket and swung it carelessly.
Tingtingtingtingting!!!
Hundreds of coins spilled out of the basket and rolled chaotically, clashing against each other.
After waiting for a while, the noise ceased as the scattered coins fell and tipped over.
And yet… all the hundreds of coins lying there revealed their front sides.
A statistically impossible event.
The moment Delun muttered this thoughtless observation,
The stone wall behind the altar began to sink entirely.
Gugugugugung!!!
“…!!”
Delun instinctively stepped back but forced himself to stop.
Behind the collapsing wall, molten lava-like liquid flowed out.
As the lava level inside the wall lowered, a mysterious space was revealed.
Deep within that hidden space,
A sword was embedded in the ground.
The woman, who had witnessed the legend passed down orally, clutched her pounding heart and exclaimed in a raspy voice.
“The Blacksmith’s Sword…!”
After countless generations of repeating gambling, discarding waste over and over again,
Through layers of luck piling upon luck, one of the few miracles was born.
The legacy of the insanely gambling ancestors who nearly wiped out their own race.
The lost relic of the dwarves forgotten across the continent: The Blacksmith’s Sword.
The seemingly fictitious legend appeared before the woman.
“…A strong body is unnecessary. Persistent willpower is meaningless. Unparalleled talent is hollow; only the luck granted to you can seek miracles.”
An inscription carved into the ground beneath the sword in the dwarven language.
The woman, who translated the ancestor’s message into the common tongue for Delun’s understanding, whispered to him as she turned around.
“If you wish to challenge, feel free to do so. But prepare your bet first.”
“…”
Delun clenched his jaw.
Heresy. The woman was a heretic.
With evidence this clear, revising the plan to overthrow Nord under a reasonable pretext was entirely feasible.
“…”
However… Delun began advancing, stepping on the flowing lava as if entranced.
Delun felt an intense urge. The impulse that the dwarves endured was transmitted to him through the Blacksmith’s Sword.
An overwhelming desire surged through his mind like molten lava, but Delun had sufficient self-control to stop himself. He was a man of strong will.
Yet despite that… Delun did not suppress the rising desire until the very end.
Advancing through the lava, Delun extended his hand toward the Blacksmith’s Sword.
*
“Hmm…”
Speira rested her chin in her hand and tapped her fingers.
She had just received a report related to the recent incident in Nord.
“Surely… not trying to bring in ‘other beings,’ are they?”
Speira smirked slightly and paused in thought.
Was Luna attempting to involve other star-beyond entities beyond El-Lam and the Evil Gods in the continent’s war?
Although the imperial army in Nord has shown suspicious movements, judging Luna’s purpose based solely on that information would be an excessive leap.
Moreover, even if Speira’s speculative leap turned out to be correct, there was no reason for Speira to frown.
“What good would it do to bring in those insignificant losers?”
Most of the transcendent beings forgotten on the continent withdrew not due to issues of disposition but simply because their powers were insufficient.
The authority and blessings of these forgotten transcendent beings were far inferior compared to El-Lam and the Evil Gods.
Furthermore…
Even if these forgotten transcendent beings temporarily collaborated with Luna due to ‘some reason’ and exerted influence on the continent again,
Ultimately, all the star-beyond entities would turn against Luna.
Thus, involving ‘other beings’ would merely amount to increasing enemies for Luna.
Still, if Luna is trying to involve ‘other beings’ in the continent’s war…
“Is she that desperate?”
Or does she have another intention?
Perhaps a trap.
“…”
Speira repeatedly tapped her fingers.
Luna still guarded the Imperial Capital.
Luna oversaw so many things in the capital that if she left, it would immediately be noticed.
At least, it was definitely impossible for Luna to leave the capital without everyone realizing.
Even if she prepared some grand trap, excluding Luna and Anthonyus, there was no one on the continent who could rival Speira.
Even if someone borrowed the ‘weak powers of those failures’ from beyond the stars, they could never withstand the dark radiance that Speira possessed.
The only exception…
Perhaps Johanna.
Johanna possessed the talent to awaken a ‘special quality’ capable of countering the dark radiance.
However, it had only been about two years since their previous clash.
Speira didn’t think Johanna could have achieved anything meaningful in just two years.
“Hmm… Johanna.”
Speira didn’t have high expectations.
Still, she moved her lips while thinking of Johanna.
“I don’t know what you’re preparing, but… when we meet next time, I hope you’ll entertain me a bit more.”
Recalling the mischievous memory of the day we first crossed swords.
Speira sat arrogantly on the throne, a smile playing on her lips.
