Dolores looked down at the appraisal report again.
The inscriptions engraved on equipment could only be discovered through a high-grade appraisal device.
Origin Script.
It generally revealed an item’s identity, and sometimes even left behind a quotation.
These words engraved upon equipment were not written by its creator. The world read them out.
The creator’s heart, and the intention they held when making it.
They could not be manipulated. Nor could they be embellished.
It was not a place to select pretty words in order to impress her.
It simply engraved something from that very moment.
If he had even taken that into account and deliberately guided the process so that such an Origin Script would be engraved—
Then he was not merely a child with a deep inner world, and was all the more a talent she needed to cherish.
But the likeliest explanation here was simply that the child had made it while thinking of Dolores...
"..."
When had it been?
The last time she had received someone’s pure goodwill.
Her sworn sisters? That had been long ago, too.
Goodwill.
It had been quite some time since she had received something like that.
Dolores smiled again.
‘I should buy him some candy.’
Thinking that,
Meanwhile, Puram’s thoughts were headed in an entirely different direction.
‘It’s real.’
One hundred percent match.
The previous Heir of Fire’s Easter egg—the arrangement he had left for his junior—even appeared.
These gloves were undoubtedly genuine. Puram had to pass this arrangement on to that junior.
There was no hiding such things.
That was a dwarf’s pride.
‘...Wait.’
Puram’s hand stopped.
He recalled a rumor that had circulated a few days ago.
Ricardo, leader of the dwarves.
They said the furnace had boiled over on Ricardo’s floor, one level above this one.
That furnace was said to react only when a new Heir of Fire was born.
A tale found only in ancient records.
Ricardo was getting on in years, so Puram had thought the old man might finally have gone senile.
Besides, looking at the young dwarves on the 88th Floor, not one of them had properly held a hammer, much less become an Heir of Fire.
He had dismissed it as nonsense, believing there was no way a new heir could emerge.
He had thought there was no future for the dwarves.
But it was real.
These recently made gloves surely coincided with the time that furnace had reacted.
For the future of the dwarf race.
He had to find him.
Puram’s gaze turned toward Dolores.
This woman knew the answer.
She definitely knew the creator.
‘...I have to hold onto her.’
Puram first copied the verification document.
Then he translated it. The document had been written in Dwarven, which humans could not read. It was a basic system function.
He held out the translated copy to Dolores.
"It is genuine."
"So it seems."
Dolores accepted the verification document with a smile.
"..."
At the top, it said: 100% genuine.
So far, so good.
But beneath that was Dwarven writing she could not read.
She could understand ordinary Dwarven to some extent, like on the appraisal report just now, but this was... slightly different.
"What does the writing below say?"
"...Who made this equipment, and where is he?"
He answered a question with another question.
Dolores could tell that the appraiser before her was giving off an unusual air.
He posed no threat to her. This was merely the process of a third party proving the child’s value once more.
Part of an irritating contest of wills.
"I picked him up off the street."
That was what she answered.
In truth, the child really had dropped right into her path.
It was not a lie.
Puram’s brow furrowed.
"Perhaps to you this is merely a matter of profit and loss, but to our people, this is an extremely important—"
"I have no idea what you’re talking about."
She cut him off.
Maintaining her smile, Dolores closed the door on the conversation with a single sentence.
She had heard roughly about the dwarves’ circumstances, but that was their problem. It had nothing to do with her.
Puram decided that further discussion would not get him the result he wanted.
Bullying her with force was not an option. He knew who she was.
Then should he report it to Ricardo, the leader?
...He could, but it would be exhausting. Very exhausting. The man was still as stubbornly old-fashioned as ever.
Puram thought for a moment.
A sustainable path that would preserve the future of his race.
In truth, there was one more thing Puram had debated whether to mention.
The grain of the leather.
Now that he looked again, he understood.
Puram loved the dwarven way more than anyone, but he knew just as well what dwarves lacked.
Dwarves did not possess techniques like this natural polishing—quieting the grain itself and opening the leather’s hidden pathways.
Such work could not come from rough hands.
In other words, this polishing method belonged to the elves.
But.
He could not tell her that much.
Someone who was an Heir of Fire and possessed even the elves’ secret arts.
If this woman learned that fact, she might hand the rising talent over to the elves.
If she judged that the elves had more to teach him than the dwarves did.
That could not happen.
Puram swallowed the words.
Instead, he simply changed direction.
"...We must provide a foundation for that rising talent to grow."
"..."
Dolores’s eyes narrowed.
Unlike everything before this, this was not something she could simply let pass.
As she gathered the verification document and appraisal report, Dolores lowered her gaze.
In that case.
"It has nothing in particular to do with me, but..."
"..."
"What does he need to do to grow?"
Dolores did not confine talented children.
And if that talent was an Heir of Fire, there was no need to say more.
‘She has no intention of hiding him.’
Seeing her response, Puram fell into thought for a moment.
Would bringing him here truly be a good thing?
Here... there was the Dwarf Company.
More than merely existing, they would surely already know who came and went from this appraisal office.
They might even be listening now, at this very moment.
The upper floors were no different. He had heard that the Dwarf Company’s reach was gradually extending to the 89th Floor as well.
There was no guarantee that Ricardo could protect the rising talent completely. Besides, Ricardo’s methods did not suit young people these days.
Puram would wager that the old man would immediately tell him to jump into ten-thousand-degree lava.
And if he could not climb back out? Ricardo would simply consider it regrettable.
In that case, perhaps instead—
It might not be so bad for him to grow up out there, supported by this woman’s abundant resources.
Scratch, scratch.
As an Heir of Fire, he would receive treatment second to none.
Puram translated every part of the ancestor’s arrangement written beneath the appraisal report.
─────────────────
『To the heir who has taken his first step.』
『You are clumsy. Yet you are certainly hot.』
『Please, do not grow cold.』
『Should you ever lose your way, come to Voldr’s Forge—』
— Appraisal Device Creator, 7th Head Craftsman Voldr —
─────────────────
"...!"
Dolores’s eyes widened.
"It was Ancient Dwarven."
"Please pass this on to the child."
Puram took a moment to steady his breath.
"If you lose your way, come to Voldr’s Forge."
Then he immediately added,
"You will need... a good hammer."
Having said that, he turned away.
Dolores watched the old craftsman’s back as he faced away from her.
His back was bent. The sun insignia engraved on his worn apron glimmered faintly in the lamplight.
There was no falsehood.
Not a single word.
And so, the woman placed twice the fee on the table and left.
Puram raised a hand to his forehead.
Had he made the right choice?
He had effectively handed the future of his race to a mere climber.
Translating the ancestor’s arrangement, bringing up the hammer.
An irreversible choice...
It was then that—
Knock, knock.
"...I’m not taking any more customers today."
"..."
There was no answer. And then—
Creeeak.
The door opened.
"..."
A suit.
The type of clothing Puram hated most.
"We’re from the Dwarf Company, Mr. Puram."
The man in the suit smiled.
"Has anything unusual happened?"
His eyes were not smiling.
2.
"The beginning of metallurgy is the hammer and furnace..."
This is seriously pissing me off.
Is there no method for a dirt-poor blacksmith?
I had finished reading all the leatherworking and carving sections. But no matter how much I read the metallurgy section, I could not make heads or tails of it.
It seemed like I would have to try it myself to understand, but the entry barrier was fucking ridiculous.
"How much is a furnace? One with decent performance."
[30,000 Gold]
Thirty thousand Gold.
Last time, that Genesis Sword or whatever had supposedly cost ten million Gold.
Yuna had told me to think of every ten thousand Gold as roughly one hundred million won.
Then thirty thousand Gold was roughly...
[Three hundred million won.]
Fuck.
How could the startup cost be three hundred million won?
What the hell is this?
Just as I clicked my tongue at the absurd price—
"...Then what about a hammer?"
My hands suddenly began to tremble.
Then how much was a hammer?
[100,000 Gold]
"Heh heh."
The price was enough to make me laugh hollowly.
Okay, forget metallurgy. I’ll become a master leatherworker.
If things go south, I might even throw away this Heir of Fire business and run off to the elves.
Children of the Forest? I’ll go with that.
Let’s cut what needs cutting. I had no idea how rich Dolores was, but—
I did not expect a thirteen-year-old kid to suddenly rake in 1.3 billion won.
I was good at objectively assessing myself.
As I wrestled with my thoughts and raised my head—
"..."
"..."
Ruby was awake.
I did not know how long she had been awake.
Half-sitting up on the blanket, she was staring blankly at me.
"...Hi."
"..."
No answer.
She just watched me silently.
I looked out the window for a moment. Before I knew it... the sun was already setting.
The sunset light streaming in told me she had slept for a while. I had forgotten while reading.
Dolores said she would be back.
"...Did you sleep well?"
She still said nothing, merely staring at me with wide-open eyes.
Then Ruby narrowed her eyes.
Could this be...?
"..."
"..."
A staring contest began.
Naturally, without either of us starting it.
Ruby looked at me, and I looked at Ruby.
Sorry, but back in college, I had spent more nights in front of a lab monitor than I could count.
Dry eyes were a problem I had long since graduated from. A thirteen-year-old dared challenge me?
"..."
Ruby’s eyes began to moisten... and finally—
"Nng...!"
Ruby squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed them with both hands.
I won, sure, but it did not make me feel good.
"Ugh."
Rubbing her eyes, Ruby glared at me. Tears had welled faintly in her bloodshot eyes.
As I said before, I was not particularly fond of taking care of children.
Because...
"Aren’t you hungry?"
When I played with kids, I tended to lose track of time.
Paradoxically, I liked them too much, so I tried to be careful.
"I’m not hungry."
Ruby sharply turned her head and answered curtly.
Dolores had vanished, and I was the only one in front of her. It should have been a confusing situation, but she did not seem bothered.
Calm, huh. Was that why kids like this became mages?
"...Dolores said she’d be back before it got too late. Don’t worry too much."
Though she did seem to be a little late already.
"..."
Ruby looked at me, hesitating repeatedly as though she had something to say.
Then she opened her mouth.
"Is Master... hurting?"
"..."
"You said it before... something about severed meridians."
Before she passed out—not that it was quite right to call it passing out.
It seemed she had heard something before Dolores put her to sleep.
"She isn’t hurting."
If I got the chance.
I intended to make it that way.
So she would not hurt.
"Liar..."
Ruby lowered her head, looking upset.
Just as tears began to gather in her eyes—
Bang.
"Were you two having fun?"
Someone came in.
It was Dolores.
"You’re back."
I turned off the textbook floating in midair and rose from my seat.
"Master!"
Ruby kicked off the blanket and ran over.
A moment ago, her eyes had been full of tears, but now she already had her face buried in Dolores’s waist.
"I stopped somewhere on the way, so I ended up later than I expected."
Dolores patted Ruby’s head and looked at me.
There was a faintly apologetic look in her eyes.
To me? Was she sorry toward the kid?
It was strange that she even felt such emotions.
"It’s fine. Nothing happened."
The only things that had happened were my victory in a staring contest and giving up on metallurgy.
Neither was worth reporting.
Click, clack.
Dolores slowly approached me.
Ruby kept her face buried in her skirt and shuffled along sideways as she was dragged with her.
For some reason, Dolores had been keeping both hands behind her back this whole time.
"Lionel."
"Yes."
Dolores called my name.
And then—
Swish.
She held something out to me.
"..."
A hammer.
A double-faced hammer that looked heavy at a glance, with lightning-shaped grooves engraved into it.
A yellow gemstone was set into the end of its handle.
Just looking at it made my eyes tingle.
─────────────────
[Tozar’s Thunder Hammer] [★★★★☆]
[Unique Equipment] [Compatibility] [—/80]
─────────────────
『A war hammer forged from ore mined from the depths of the Lightning Vein. With a single strike, it carries a fragment of thunder. It is said that the number of lightning bolts changes according to the wielder’s caliber, though no one has yet proven it.』
— Ludin, Lightning Vein —
─────────────────
So, it was a hammer.
A hammer that looked like it belonged in some movie, one that for some reason seemed like only someone worthy could lift it.
It was smaller than my head, though. Still.
The problem was—
─────────────────
【Purpose: Combat】
【Ore from the depths of the Lightning Vein — top-grade purity and crystal density. The material itself is top-grade.】
【However, this weapon is designed for combat, optimized to transfer shock upon impact. Its center of gravity is weighted toward the head and its striking surface is narrow, making it unsuitable for precision forging. In its current state, it cannot be used for forging.】
─────────────────
This was a war hammer.
"It’s a gift."
Dolores gave me—
a one-billion-won war hammer as a gift.
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