episode_0024

24. The Magicless, Worthless Blacksmith

A magnificent forge near the imperial palace.

It is said to have once crafted weapons and equipment exclusively for the emperor’s generals.

Not only that, but it was also the legendary forge that created the emperor’s ceremonial ornaments, enchanted crowns, and even buildings.

Upon opening the ornately decorated golden door, a short, muscular man…

Yes, the kind of man you’d imagine when thinking of a typical dwarf.

“What are you?”

A dwarf with a short stature and a beard so thick it might as well be a fur coat.

The man greeted me with a rough demeanor.

I bowed deeply to the dwarf, showing proper courtesy.

“My name is Cain, and I work for the Grace family.

I’m involved in technical work, and I need the help of an expert.”

“The Grace family?”

Upon hearing the name of the Erica family, the dwarf stroked his beard, deep in thought.

Then, he suddenly looked at me with wide eyes.

“Ah! Don’t tell me… you’re the one who made the flying airship…?”

“That’s correct.”

“Haha, to think a genius like you would visit my humble forge.”

With that, the dwarf—standing no taller than 150 cm—sprang up from his seat.

He then brought over a refreshing, dwarven specialty beer and placed it in front of me.

From what I’d heard, a dwarf offering their treasured beer was a sign of utmost sincerity.

Dwarves were known for their exceptional skills and pride, rivaling even the nobility.

But contrary to rumors of their haughtiness, he now waited eagerly, like an excited puppy, for me to speak.

It was a bit overwhelming, but since he was willing to help, I cautiously began.

“First, I apologize for coming unannounced.

I hope my sudden visit hasn’t inconvenienced you…”

“No, no. On the contrary, I’m grateful someone as talented as you has come to see me.”

Out of courtesy, I sought forgiveness for my abrupt intrusion, and the dwarf accepted it as a matter of course.

But whether he was uncomfortable with the formalities or simply impatient to hear about my project, he quickly cut to the chase.

“So, what are you planning to make this time?”

“A keyboard instrument.”

“Huh?”

The dwarf blinked as if he’d misheard, then tapped the table with his fingers before speaking carefully.

“I see… So, something like a drum, a gong, or a trumpet—to boost morale in battle or for special signals…?”

“No? It’s just a musical instrument.”

“……”

The goodwill he’d shown earlier vanished as he glared at me like I was some kind of bug.

After taking a swig of beer, he asked:

“Then what kind of magic does it require?”

“Magic?”

“…Wait a minute! Do you at least have blueprints for the airship?”

When I tilted my head in confusion, he gritted his teeth and glared at me.

I took a piece of paper from him and sketched out the basic principles and structure of the airship.

The dwarf stared at the drawing for a long time before finally cursing.

“Fuck, don’t tell me this thing has absolutely no magic in it?”

“I don’t even know what magic is supposed to be…”

“I had high hopes because a human made it, but to think it doesn’t even have magic!”

Grumbling, the dwarf stood up.

He then lifted a shield leaning against the forge and infused it with magical energy.

Instantly, the shield ignited with flames on its own, displaying a fantastical sight.

It was the first time I’d seen something so blatantly fantasy-like.

When I looked at it in genuine awe, the dwarf sighed and asked in a mockingly kind tone:

“How do you think this was made, genius?”

Though his words were polite, his tone was clearly mocking.

I examined the flame-spewing shield and thought carefully.

By modern standards, it would be something like a flamethrower, combining gas and a spark.

If I had adapted to this world, maybe it used something like the heat-generating scales of a red wyvern?

“The scales of a red wyvern… or byproducts of flame-based monsters…?”

“Wrong.”

He dismissed my answer outright and tossed the flaming shield back into a corner.

The dwarf took a swig of beer like a true man and lectured me.

“That’s the problem with you humans.

You don’t understand the essence of dwarven magic—you focus only on the form, so you end up making worthless crap.”

Limping slightly, the dwarf stepped forward.

His injury must have been old, as he moved with practiced ease, lifting his work hammer.

He then placed an ordinary heated steel ingot on the anvil with tongs and spoke.

“If you wanted to give this ore an ice attribute, how would you do it?”

“By enchanting it with magic…?”

“Still missing the point, I see!”

He opened his pouch, and a gust of wind flowed out.

A tattoo on the back of his hand glowed, and the wind coiled around his hammer before he struck.

In that instant, the red-hot steel ingot turned a deep blue.

“This was made using the sound of the wind as material. Literally—the actual sound of the wind.”

“I don’t understand.”

No matter how fantastical this world was, this made no sense.

Wasn’t the sound of wind something intangible, impossible to hammer into shape?

The dwarf chuckled at my confusion.

“That’s exactly why I said it’s impossible for you.”

“……”

“If you can’t even grasp dwarven magic, why should we follow your blueprints?”

I had no response.

“Besides, it’s not even about crafting weapons—the pride of dwarves.

All you’re doing is assembling pre-made materials according to a blueprint.

We are artists and blacksmiths who create, not mere assemblers.”

They were clearly different from human blacksmiths.

Dwarves took as much pride in forging weapons and hammering ore as nobles did in their status.

To them, a mundane blueprint was practically an affront.

If I had to compare, it’d be like asking a proud engineer to assemble a figurine.

Seeing no way to persuade this stubborn dwarf, I bowed and prepared to leave.

But the obstinate dwarf called out to stop me.

“Hey, then where do you plan to make that keyboard instrument?”

“I’ll have to find another blacksmith.”

“Ha! Other dwarves will scorn it as primitive technology—no weapons, no magic.”

So even other dwarves would refuse?

Maybe this stubborn dwarf had been unusually kind, even teaching me a bit about magic.

As I pondered, the dwarf raised his hands slightly and spoke again.

“Go see Brook and Aitri.”

“Are they human blacksmiths?”

Amused by my question, he chuckled and returned to the table.

Dragging his bad leg, he plopped back into his chair.

“In a way, yes. They’re skilled enough to craft weapons for the gods.”

His sarcastic tone made it clear—this was irony.

They were likely outcasts among dwarves.

Though I didn’t fully understand, I had at least learned a bit about dwarven magic and gotten a lead on Brook and Aitri.

I bowed slightly, maintaining courtesy.

There was no benefit in leaving a bad impression.

After that, I wandered for a long time.

I visited every forge near the imperial capital, Lumiar.

Unsurprisingly, only dwarves remained—each prouder than the last, making the first stubborn dwarf seem kind in comparison.

For example, requesting a weapon was considered rude.

How dare a clueless human who didn’t even understand dwarven magic ask for anything?

It was like showing a Bluetooth showerhead design to an engineer—utterly absurd.

On top of that, they despised inventions like the magicless airship, pencils, type, and piano.

They rejected them with visible disgust…

After hours of being turned away from forges, five hours had passed.

As dusk began to fall, my eyes landed on one last forge.

A shabby, dilapidated place—how it still stood in the capital was a mystery.

The names “Brook and Aitri” were scrawled at the entrance.

“Brook and Aitri…”

The two dwarves mocked for supposedly crafting weapons for the gods.

Though uneasy, I had no other options left.

I pushed open the worn, rickety wooden door—

And what greeted me was…

“You’re out of your mind! We should use draugr oil!”

“You’re the one spouting nonsense! It’s not draugr oil—it’s the ogre’s tendon that’s the problem!”

Two pretty dwarves, no taller than 145 cm, bickering and pulling each other’s cheeks as they rolled on the floor.

A pair of tiny, twin-like women, even smaller than Erica, engaged in an impressive scuffle.

These were the so-called “worthless” ones?