1.
He barged straight into my workshop—though I had no idea how he even got in.
Well, no. Since Yuna said she couldn’t lock onto the coordinates, maybe that meant he had come looking for me.
The man who had shouted at me, apparently one of our dwarf ancestors.
And on top of that—
[Encounter with the Wise Craftsman]
Since he was that famous Wise Craftsman, there was no way I wouldn’t be nervous.
But as for the question he had just asked...
"What are you doing?!"
What was I doing? I was making a nameplate and hanging it up.
And I was about to make underwear. Cute and comfortable ones.
I could at least be honest with myself.
It might feel a little far removed from blacksmithing, but sorry—this would all become a foundation later.
"......"
"......"
"......"
"......"
That was how we stood there, facing each other in silence for several dozen seconds.
Was that line just his encounter dialogue?
Was I supposed to answer?
He slowly looked me up and down when I didn’t respond.
My forearms, legs, shoulders, and so on.
"Huh...."
Then he let out a long breath.
He looked around the workshop, then walked over to the shabby, miserable anvil made by humans.
Every time he moved, something like sparks rippled and scattered off his body.
Like an afterimage, maybe.
He definitely didn’t seem ordinary.
Tap tap
He knocked on it a couple of times with his finger.
"Hooo...."
And sighed.
Bwoong...
This time it was the primitive, shabby furnace made by humans.
"Hooo...."
Another sigh.
"Hooooo......"
Everything he sighed at was something made by humans.
Yeah, I know, old man. I’ll replace it or something.
The one comforting part was this.
Tap tap
Creak
Whoosh
After examining the top-grade crucible furnace I had made myself for a long while, he...
"...Hmm."
He stroked his beard and nodded, looking satisfied.
That didn’t feel bad.
Did that mean I passed, at least?
Different class from humans, after all.
Eventually, he came over in front of me and slowly opened his mouth.
Seen up close, he was still about the same height as me.
"How long has it been."
A low, resonant voice.
"To overcome a trial said to be harder than threading a camel through the eye of a needle, and become an apprentice Heirs of Fire."
He took one step closer to me.
"Then to pass through a gate narrower still and become a Formal Blacksmith L."
Another step.
And when his face finally came right up to mine—
"And among them, for one to appear who raised a furnace with his own hands and hung his own crest before it."
"......"
To be fair, no camel had ever actually passed through the eye of a needle.
It was just that my little sister Kim Yujin had been a needle’s eye bigger than a camel.
"I cannot even guess how many years it has been. But."
"......?"
He narrowed his eyes.
"...Tell me, descendant. Are you perhaps a half-dwarf?"
"Ah."
Right.
From a dwarf’s perspective, it must feel like the art style had suddenly changed.
I could see why he’d think I was mixed dwarf and human. Even before the Tower opened, humans had existed inside it.
How was I supposed to answer this?
"...Well, you may have been looked down on in the past, but I’m not the sort to care about such things."
"Ahaha... thank you."
I let it slide for now.
"So then, what year is it now by the solar calendar?"
I felt like I needed Yuna’s help for this one.
[It is now... Year 1231 of the Solar Calendar.]
"It is 1231."
"......What?"
When he heard the year, his eyes widened like he thought he had misheard.
"What...? 1231... what are you talking about...?"
He dragged a palm down his face.
"...Is that truly so?"
"Yes."
"......"
He stood there for a long while.
Then he headed over to the crucible furnace, leaned against it, and muttered something.
"Ninety-one years have passed... Then does that mean there has not been a single descendant who built a workshop until now...?"
He was muttering very quietly, but...
I heard all of it.
"...Ah."
As if something had just occurred to him, he came back to me.
He studied my eyes closely, then added,
"How many Heirs of Fire were there after that brat Ricardo?"
This wasn’t something I knew either.
[Ricardo is now the leader of the Sun Dwarves, and after him, the next Heirs of Fire is....]
[You, big brother.]
"There were none."
"......"
"I am the only one."
"......"
After hearing that, he said nothing.
He slowly turned, walked to the wall, braced one hand against it, lowered his head, and stood there motionless.
"......"
His back was broad.
How much time passed while he stood there thinking?
Eventually, he turned back again.
"Just what happened after I died...?"
Only then did I begin explaining, based on what Yuna had told me.
The Sun Dwarves had gradually declined.
The Tower opened, humans entered, and goods sold even if no one overcame the trial and became Heirs of Fire.
Even if they made mediocre equipment, even if they used mediocre enchantments, humans still bought them.
So no one tried to overcome the trial anymore.
And because no one overcame it, the descendants were cut off. Once the descendants were cut off, the divine tools disappeared.
Once the divine tools vanished and the race declined, the gods stopped coming as well.
And in the place the gods had abandoned, the Sun Dwarves became poor.
In the end, I told him, the Heirs of Fire no longer existed.
"......"
His face stiffened more and more with every sentence he heard.
With each new word, I could see his eyes sinking a little further.
I didn’t go as far as telling him about the Dwarf Company.
That was the part that would really hurt.
Even if the gods leaving still left some room to recover somehow...
Taking outside capital into that empty place and founding a corporation that drove in the final nail, making recovery impossible—that was another matter entirely.
"Could you give me a little time to think?"
"Yes."
He went to one corner of the workshop, sat down heavily, and put a hand over his forehead.
It had to be a huge shock.
By his own words, he was already dead.
And the first descendant he had met in ninety years had brought him news that his race was collapsing.
And as I watched him like that...
"...Whew."
I took a breath.
To be honest, I had already finished the calculations in my head.
If I just let this pass and pretended to be a half-dwarf, I’d probably gain all sorts of techniques.
No matter what, I would walk away with something.
It wasn’t even a lie.
He was the one who had assumed it on his own, and I had only laughed, so if you really argued the point, I hadn’t done anything.
But still.
Step
He came back. His eyes were a little redder than before.
"You came."
No, that wasn’t right.
"I’ll be honest with you."
"......"
"I am human."
"......"
"By chance, I became one of the Heirs of Fire and then became a Formal Blacksmith L, but I am definitely a human who lives outside the Tower. This place is outside the Tower as well."
Then I lowered my head.
"I’m sorry for deceiving you."
"......"
There was no reply.
With my head lowered, I couldn’t even see his expression.
From his point of view, a human had basically taken the seat meant for a dwarf descendant, so of course it had to be absurd.
Step
The sound of footsteps came closer.
And then, suddenly—
Thud
Large hands gripped both my shoulders.
I raised my head.
And what he said next was—
"That’s not it."
"......?"
That was a little different from what I had expected.
"What does you being human have to do with being one of the Heirs of Fire?"
"...What?"
His eyes blazed brightly.
"You raised a furnace from bare ground, carved your mark, and came this far alone."
"......"
Grip
The hands on my shoulders tightened.
"In a place without even a single spark, in a place where no one remained, you lit the fire with your own hands and earned the Sun’s acknowledgment."
"......"
"Had you not earned the Sun’s acknowledgment, I could not even have come here. So what meaning could human and dwarf—mere bloodlines like that—possibly have?"
He looked straight at me.
"One of the Heirs of Fire is not born, but forged."
"......"
"So I ask you, descendant."
Grip
"If you are not one of the Heirs of Fire, then what are you?"
I was completely speechless.
Why was this man so good at persuading people?
That actually hit me a little just now. It was true that I had worked hard.
And while I stood there unable to say anything...
He slowly spread the hands that had been gripping my shoulders outward.
Rub rub
Then he started kneading both my arms.
"......"
"......"
Excuse me?
"How old are you?"
"...Thirteen."
Flinch
His hands stopped.
"......Hooo, I can hardly believe it. How long have you been a blacksmith? Are you eating properly?"
"I think it’s been about five months. As for meals... I skip them sometimes."
"Remarkable. So remarkable I cannot even put it into words. To reach the Sun Workshop in such a short time... Still, you must make sure to eat properly. You are in your growing years, after all."
The hands that had been kneading me slowly fell away.
Then he stepped back and looked around the workshop in a full circle.
"Originally, this space is where one encounters a previous Wise Craftsman. Once a descendant opens his first workshop with his own hands, one who has gone before comes to visit him once."
"I see."
"And so, you may ask your ancestor for wisdom."
Swoosh
He held up three fingers.
"Exactly this much."
"...Three things."
Three questions was actually a very good deal.
Until now, I had never had anyone to ask about metallurgy or blacksmithing.
The manuals only covered the basics, and no matter how smart Yuna was, she couldn’t know everything that one of the Heirs of Fire would know.
So every time I hit a wall, I had just thrown myself at it, and if it didn’t work... then it just didn’t work.
Three questions wasn’t bad at all.
But then—
"However."
The dwarf in front of me suddenly folded all his fingers back down.
Then he gave me a bitter smile.
"This time, as a special exception, I will tell you everything I can."
"...Is that really okay?"
"The reason it was originally limited to three... you could say it was a traditional restriction that we ancestors, myself included, imposed on ourselves."
Ah, so one of those things passed down just because the people above said so.
A military-style tradition, huh.
"Unfortunately."
He opened his eyes wide and looked at me.
"This is no time to be worrying about tradition or appearances, is it?"
"......"
Suddenly curious, I spoke up.
"By any chance, that thing you shouted earlier—'What in the world are you doiiing?!'—is that also a tradition you do the moment you meet someone?"
"...It is."
No wonder. It wasn’t like he had actually known what I was doing.
I’d just been too startled to say anything earlier.
"So then, descendant."
"......"
"I shall ask again."
"......"
He slowly walked over to the sorting table.
"What were you doing?"
The moment he finished speaking, before I could even answer—
Wooooong...
Light poured over the sorting table, and something began taking shape one by one.
"...Huh?"
The light around the formed object faded.
And the first thing that entered my eyes was—
Thud
The first one.
My very first creation, made from leather that hadn’t even finished tanning.
Those grease-soaked gloves.
No—calling them gloves was generous. They were more like leather pouches.
The dark history I had never wanted anyone to see.
Also known as Give Eric Eric.
"No!!!"
In that instant, overcome with sheer embarrassment, I shouted and ran toward it.
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