episode_0023

“Hmm, is it finally being revealed?”

Dwarf artisan Balkan wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead with a beige-colored glossy towel and peered through the bustling gallery window, where various alarms were ringing.

As he set down his hammer, the floor resonated with a thud!

Normally, the alerts would be filled with cries of “take my money!” and pleas for new gear and necessary materials, but that wasn’t the case now.

The unveiling of the new arena, especially in collaboration with the Magmafront, was a surprise.

“More surprising than I thought… Grandpa…”

What he had initially perceived as a pile of luggage shifted, and a young girl peeked her head out.

Her snow-white hair flowed like silk, but Balkan, feeling as if he were looking at a snail, shook his head disapprovingly.

“Ugh, why do I have to see that every day when I’m supposed to be out there dying—”

Why did we casually accept such a character as a contractor?

Regret often comes too late.

Now, regretting it is pointless, as a contractor can’t just dismiss someone so easily.

At one point, he had considered unilaterally terminating the contract, even at the cost of penalties, but…

He had accepted Penelope, this girl, with overwhelming talent, thinking, ‘Hmm… she’s usable,’ though inwardly he was truly impressed.

…If only she didn’t have those habits, how much better it would have been.

“This old man? Huh? Instead of coming over to assist when I’m working hard with the hammer.”

“What are you saying? Last time, you kicked me out, saying you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

“That’s because you keep bringing weird things around.”

In the medieval era, no matter how much one flies and crawls with alchemy and other techniques, they cannot defeat a sword made of AISI grade 6150 carbon alloy steel. How can dwarves find it acceptable to choose only topics that make their blood boil?

Even if one were to simply swing a hammer at the empty-headed fool who speaks nonsense, it would be the epitome of patience to let them slump down under its weight on their shoulders.

Nevertheless, Penelope’s gaze was fixed on the gallery window.

“By the way, judging from your manner of speaking, it seems like you knew there was another arena,” she said.

“Of course I knew,” Balkan replied, stroking his beard and recalling the past.

“I’m the one who created the framework for the boundary spell that allows entry into that planet. I was asked to make it by Manmajeon a while back.”

“Oh.”

Penelope’s eyes widened at this new information.

“Wait, so you knew all this time and didn’t say anything?!”

“Someone might think I threatened you not to speak by holding a knife to your throat.”

Balkan’s words were not particularly cheap enough to blabber about unasked things, and he had always avoided such talkative inclinations. However, what if the sole contractor, that rascal, started making a big fuss… If it didn’t sit well with Balkan, what could he do?

He had already accepted it.

“Perhaps… even the advice not to sell shares in the management department last time…?”

“Mmm…”

Seeing Balkan silently smiling, Penelope thought, “This was all part of the plan…!” and burrowed into the pile of blankets like a bundle of luggage.

It seemed her contractor couldn’t wait and had taken advantage of the situation.

Meanwhile, Balkan’s balance continued to rise endlessly… No, it was like riding a rocket to the moon.

Balkan, who subtly smiled, seemed to have no worries about running out of divine power for the time being.

He had even considered that occasionally destroying the arena wouldn’t be so bad… Unfortunately, it seemed that such a thing was unlikely to happen.

The video posted by the management office showed that they had properly built the barrier on the foundation they had prepared, so it was almost an impregnable fortress. To be honest, I thought it would be difficult since it had been somewhat neglected, but whether it was well maintained by the Manmaeon faction or if the management office poured a huge amount of resources into renovating it… I couldn’t know the exact details, but still, I was relieved.

Deep down, if the gladiator arena didn’t open at all, I would have been worried about what to do in my endlessly idle life from now on. Someday, a successor will appear, but for now, I wanted to enjoy this amusement in my own way in Blukan’s life as an endless devotee.

Even the trembling bundle of blankets where Penelope hid her body paused for a moment, and then her head popped out again, looking at Blukan.

“….So, I have to participate there this time…?”

“Were you thinking of not participating?”

“No, that powerful guy overflowing with energy can just buy some points and put on a show… Do you have any intention of accepting another contractor besides me- Eek!”

Blukan, who was fed up with Penelope’s annoying thoughts of somehow backing out, shook his head.

“After seeing your lot, even I wonder if my standards have gotten higher. Ugh….”

Why are there such words?

After trying out earphones worth 1.5 million won and thinking the sound quality was just average, he tried listening with the recommended 300,000 won ones and found that it sounded like World War II radio communication equipment. In other words, Blukan’s statement was that there was no contractor who satisfied the elevated standard due to Penelope, and that he did not have a contractor he liked.

However—

“…Not… exactly.”

“Huh?”

“…Come to think of it, there was one that I liked.”

As Blukan’s eyes drew a curve, Penelope, who caught that, paid attention.

“What’s with that look? Was it really true?”

“Yeah, I liked them. If I hadn’t signed a contract, I would have smacked your butt cheeks hard and kicked you out.”

Yoo Da-hee.

Contractor of the goddess of justice, Dike Astraia.

From the glint in his eyes to the aura he exuded, it was a masterpiece of perfection, akin to gazing upon a flawlessly forged steel ingot, impervious to any chilling hammering. It was an air of reverence, yet with a resolute punishment for those who dared to overstep.

“Hmm… Truly regrettable, so very regrettable…” Penelope’s countenance turned wistful, as if lost in poignant memories. What kind of visage could provoke such an expression from this muse?

“I truly adore it, and I even brought a Parasol as a gift.”

“What…! Isn’t that what your disciple desperately pleaded for?”

“Someone unworthy wouldn’t know what to do with it, even if they took it.”

More likely to summon an elevator lift than to grasp it in his hand. Intrigued to the core, Penelope inquired of Vulcan, “What’s his name?”

“Yudahee.”

“YOU DIED?” What kind of name is that? Penelope wore an unmistakably perturbed expression. ‘You’re dead’—how could a person’s name be so shockingly vulgar, reminiscent of Park Seokgil’s “FUCK-SUCK-KILL”? Of course, apart from that, just hearing the name made Penelope’s brow furrow endlessly.

Perhaps due to Vulcan’s pronunciation… but alas, it was exactly as she feared.

“Is this lunatic for real?”

She even tried searching for a namesake, pushing forward images, but it seemed she hadn’t misread.

“Yeah, it’s him.”

“Isn’t he just a pervert?”

Yudahee, the man who devoured a god. And not just some innocent love affair between contractor and deity—

“Utterly ecstatic, disciplined, refined, copulated, pressed, threesome…?”

A bizarre rumor, so distorted that it had become unrecognizable, circulating on the internet, making it nearly impossible to discern fact from fiction. Yet, how could one not stumble upon such things when searching for Yudahee?

“Ugh…!” Perhaps the muse’s tastes were slightly askew… or so it seemed. But apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Yudahee, Yudahee, Yudahee.

In Penelope’s perspective, a being that must be eliminated to pursue pure love…!

Somewhere, this guy, after playing around with the goddesses in such a disorderly manner,

declaring “Ah, I’m tired of you all now.”

and then tossing them aside, it feels like he’ll just go and play recklessly with other women beyond the photo.

Come to think of it, that might be the case… No, it’s certain.

It’s definitely going to be something like a blond troublemaker, or a troublemaking seed intruding into a peaceful relationship, or perhaps an exchange student, a black giant, who moved in next door, causing suspicion.

Penelope nodded her head.

In Penelope’s mind, Yudahee was recorded as an extremely turbulent and troublesome existence.

“Yudahee, you are a creature that should not exist….”

“….You’re having strange delusions again.”

Wondering when he will mature, Balkan sighed and handed over the work he had been working on to Penelope.

“Take it.”

It was something he had been working on for Penelope.

The previous Parashu was certainly a remarkable item, but only within the category of axes.

Considering his entire arsenal, it was barely a mid-tier item among Balkan’s works… but this one was different now.

A perfect custom-made piece.

Each detail was carefully crafted for only one person, taking into account Penelope’s hand shape when holding a sword, her height, weight, gait, everything.

If ranked… at the top, it’s difficult to distinguish due to their unique abilities, but Balkan confidently asserted that it could easily fit within the top three.

Penelope seemed about to grab the handle of the thrown object, but a hand suddenly emerged and caught it.

It was a pure white sword that perfectly matched Penelope’s white hair.

As Penelope grasped the smooth sword without any seams along the handle, her eyes sparkled brightly.

“This is… the wheel that will surpass Yudahee…! The Ilryun…!”

The impatient Vulcan gripped Penelope’s head tightly.

Ugh!

Penelope… unable to control the ship…! Under attack…! The hull is breached…! Flooding won’t stop!

“Stop babbling and give it a name.”

Normally, a sword’s name is bestowed by its creator, but this one is solely for Penelope. It would be fitting for her to affix it herself, as it will be her companion.

“Mmm… mmm.”

When Vulcan wordlessly clenched his fist again, Penelope, seeming to regain her senses, stroked the blade and rose from her seat.

Penelope’s body emerged from the blanket at last.

From her shoulders to her waist, cascading white locks and, nestled within, a prominent chest that seemed unapologetic, refusing to conceal its grandeur.

As the white hair touched the blade, a peculiar resonance spread out, gently pushing the strands away from the edge, as if recognizing its master.

“…..Varisada.”

Pleased with the resonance, Penelope let out a soft laugh, caressing her sword, Varisada.

“I like Varisada.”

“Hmm…”

“It’s not a bad name,” Vulcan nodded.

Satisfied, Penelope raised Varisada high and shouted with all her might.

“The blacksmith’s spirit…! We’re going to cut through the darkness, Varisada-!”

…But before she could finish her words, she was met with silence beneath Vulcan’s furrowed brow.

Thud!

Penelope, hit by an explosion in the ammunition depot, sank completely…!

Shiver…