Part 6: Golem (5)

The Golem now ignored Edwin’s will entirely. It pressed its attacks without regard for his hesitation or guilt.

“W-wait! Stop!”

It was as though it could not hear Edwin shouting. As though it were listening to a voice whose authority far surpassed that of its “master.”

BOOM! BANG! BOOOM!

Its wildly swinging spear gouged the ground. Unlike before, its movements bore no resemblance to Atzier’s spearmanship.

But those mindless swings had tremendous speed and power behind them, making it difficult to exploit an opening.

If I could stop it for just an instant, this would actually be my chance—then, as the wildly swinging Golem raised its arm toward the sky once more...

CRUNCH!

A sword lodged in its arm.

‘Elin’s sword!’

Elin had thrown it. She had put every scrap of stamina and mana she had managed to gather while I fought into that single move.

I couldn’t have done it, but to Elin, such mindless attacks were all too easy to read.

This was an opening I absolutely could not miss.

I gripped my necklace—the black gemstone necklace Quinier had given me.

This necklace absorbed any liquid it touched. To store liquid inside, all I had to do was set it on top of the liquid. It also had a spatial expansion enchantment, allowing it to hold far more than its appearance suggested.

Then how did I get the contents out?

That was even simpler.

CRUNCH.

Just break it.

Fabrication, Black River.

Grade - Legendary

Gram

Black River, that pitch-black liquid, took shape in an instant and settled into both my hands. Sigurd’s sword, Gram, was in my grasp.

Dizziness and exhaustion washed over me at once. I was nearing mana depletion.

I brought the sword, raised straight toward the sky, down as swiftly as an arrow.

But my attack was a fraction too late, meeting the spearhead the Golem hastily thrust out.

At the instant of contact, the two blades made no sound.

“...!”

In that instant, I saw the Golem’s purple haze.

What I had suspected possessed a shape now took on a distinct form, and our eyes met.

[“Do you understand why you possess neither Divine Power nor talent?”]

[“You dare imitate a hero’s weapon.”]

[“All the gods shall curse you, lowly creature.”]

That voice reached me within frozen time.

I could guess its identity. The haze that had moved from Edwin to the Golem. The instigator behind Edwin’s Corruption. The irresponsible power that had placed the Golem in his hands and made him bear the guilt.

So you finally reveal yourself.

Hephaestus.

[“I have seen that technique before.”]

[“What can you accomplish with a technique that grants you a mere three seconds?”]

He had seen it before, had he?

So that was it. I had thought it strange to run into Slave out of nowhere in a Low-Level Dungeon.

That was your doing.

Perhaps that was all he had to say. Time began moving again.

Then the Golem’s spear moved strangely. With a crackling sound like burning firewood, it delivered a twist and an impact at once.

Gram spun through the air, flying free of my hands.

Atzier’s technique. An uncanny move that made an opponent drop their weapon by bringing his own against it.

“Falling Tension.”

“Ah!”

I heard Elin’s brief cry from a distance.

It perfectly deflected an opponent’s all-out attack and went a step further, disarming them. No one but Atzier could pull off something like that. If the Golem was modeled on him, it was a technique its creator would certainly covet.

Which was why I had known from the start that this technique was coming.

WHOOSH!

The Golem’s spear shot toward me again. I immediately leaned back and dodged it.

I had already released Gram before the Golem used Falling Tension. That allowed me to keep my balance and evade the spear.

Dodging like this against Atzier would have gotten me killed.

But it worked against you.

You knockoff.

Gram remained intact as it spun through the air.

The Weaving did not unravel. Three seconds had already passed.

That was all Hephaestus knew. He believed Gram would disappear after three seconds.

But through my repeated mana-depletion training and the ring Quinier had given me...

‘I’ve added another two seconds, you idiot.’

I caught the falling Gram, bringing the blade upward from below.

All I was doing was imitating him, just like the Golem before me. If Atzier had seen it, he would have clicked his tongue in disgust.

But my enemy was an imitation of Atzier.

‘Then you’d better be ready to take this fucking hit.’

Atzier’s Basic Spearmanship

Frondier’s Swordsmanship Variation

Diagonal Slash

SHIIING!

Gram traced a diagonal line.

The Golem’s upper body slid off along that exact line.

* * *

CLANK.

Metal made a harsh sound.

The Golem, which had seemed like a ferocious monster only moments before, sounded like an empty tin can once it was cut apart.

I stood with my shoulders slumped.

... I had won.

Only once that sank in did I hear my own heartbeat.

“Hah... Hah...”

Both my hands were trembling violently. My mana depletion was severe.

Even with those extra two seconds, had I taken longer than I thought? Or had I spent more mana without realizing it?

Gram had already reverted to Black River and flowed down.

Glass fragments clattered against one another. The shattered necklace gathered itself back together and regained its original shape.

The necklace Quinier had given me contained a restoration enchantment.

In other words, whenever I wanted to use Black River, I could break the necklace, then put Black River back inside once the restoration magic repaired it.

Quinier had given me something truly excellent.

I named the necklace “Black Lotus.”

“... Now, then.”

I forced my head up, though even my face barely obeyed me.

The purple haze left after the Golem’s defeat still lingered.

Hephaestus. One of the twelve Olympians. The god of smithing and fire.

To him, who heated metal and forged weapons, was my “Weaving” really so objectionable?

[“You deserve to die.”]

Hephaestus’s seething voice reached me.

Still running your mouth, I see.

[“Do not delude yourself into thinking you have won. You have not even scratched me.”]

So what? I had never intended to scratch you in the first place. Why did gods keep meddling in human affairs?

[“Next time, it will not end like—”]

When Hephaestus got that far, I felt as though my eyes met his, even though the shape within the purple haze was faint.

“... Huh?”

For an instant, I saw a scene.

A lame man stood there, handing something to a woman.

Was that a bow and arrow? My eyes stored the two images in the “Workshop.”

But who was that woman?

The lame man was unmistakably Hephaestus. But if he was giving a woman a bow he had made, then could she be—

[“You!!”]

The scene vanished, leaving Hephaestus’s furious shout.

[“What did you see?! You dare pry into a god’s past without permission—what have you done?!”]

Hephaestus was visibly flustered.

I let out a disbelieving laugh. Apparently, it wasn’t true that I hadn’t even scratched him.

[“How much must you profane the gods before you are satisf—”]

Despite his furious tone, his voice gradually faded.

Of course. With nowhere to house his Divine Power, he couldn’t remain here indefinitely.

“... Fuck off.”

My voice was dry. It felt as though I were pouring my exhaustion out through it.

After Hephaestus’s voice disappeared completely, I stood amid the quiet sound of the wind.

“... Frondier.”

I turned my head. Elin stood beside me.

She was holding her side, but she seemed to have recovered considerably.

“What are you going to do about Edwin?”

Elin’s voice was as languid as ever. It made me even sleepier.

Edwin was simply sitting slumped where he had been standing.

Now that Hephaestus’s interference was gone, there seemed to be no need to worry about him.

“... Edwin will be all right.”

“... Okay.”

Elin nodded quietly.

She, too, seemed to understand what I meant.

* * *

For Elin, that sight would probably become one of those moments she would never forget as long as she lived.

At some point, a sword had been born in a boy’s hands. With it, he had cut down the Golem.

Right up to the instant of the slash, the sight had been like a feat of magic.

And after the battle, the boy had simply stood still.

His hands spasmed, and his entire body trembled at the slightest movement. His eyes, fixed on something, shone with a forlorn light even after the fighting ended.

His face seemed steeped in exhaustion and weakness, yet his eyes alone still seemed to be looking somewhere.

Elin rose and walked toward him.

Bathed in moonlight, he was incomparably beautiful. So she walked to him to make sure he was real.

“... Frondier.”

She called his name.

Frondier looked at her.

[“What are you going to do about Edwin?”]

[“Edwin will be all right.”]

Even as they exchanged those words, Elin still felt as though she were speaking to an illusion.

Even though she was looking at Frondier.

Even though Frondier was looking at her.

So Elin voiced the question that loomed largest in her mind.

“... Why did you save me?”

You don’t even know me.

Even if you did, that wouldn’t be a reason to risk your life.

The moment he had protected her. His voice as he shouted at Edwin. A battle unlike anything she had ever seen.

All of it felt like a dream.

Frondier.

Who are you?

“... Because you’re someone who mustn’t die.”

With those final words, Frondier swayed.

“...!”

Elin caught him as he lost his balance.

At last, Frondier went from illusion to reality, cradled in Elin’s arms.

His breathing was even.

His peaceful face lay unguarded beneath her gaze.

“...”

For no particular reason, Elin poked his sleeping face.

The sensation was unmistakable.

Elin blinked several times, then let out something like a sigh.

Her languid eyes held the moonlight.

She smiled.

“Sleeping people really are heavy.”

It was a slightly incongruous remark coming from her.

* * *

... When I regained consciousness, I was in the infirmary.

I quietly opened my eyes.

A teacher in a white coat sat beside me. She had a refined face, brown hair falling in soft waves, and a calm gaze beneath long lashes.

I knew who she was.

Malia de Roach. Constel’s school nurse.

But far more importantly to me, she was Frondier’s mother.

‘... What do I do?’

Naturally, I had never spoken with Malia before.

Malia didn’t live at the Roah Estate.

Her position as school physician was only the role presented to the students; her primary work was magical research. Her laboratory had fully equipped sleeping quarters, so she spent nearly all her time there.

She was quietly reading a book.

... Should I try startling her?

If I lightened the mood that way, perhaps I could muddle through the conversation.

Just as I was about to speak, Malia opened her mouth without taking her eyes off her book.

“Did you sleep well, Frondier?”

“... How did you know?”

“There’s nothing your mother doesn’t know.”

... She was joking, right?

For some reason, it sounded real, which was frightening.

“Your girlfriend brought you here. Make sure you thank her later.”

... Girlfriend?

Oh, did she mean Elin?

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“I’m so happy. Though with a face like yours, my son, I almost think it’s taken too long.”

Are you listening?

“Um, Mom. Besides the girl, did another boy happen to come here?”

“Oh, yes.”

Malia nodded.

Her calm, impassive expression certainly resembled Frondier’s languid one.

“He turned himself in.”

“... What?”

“He confessed to everything himself—stealing the Golem and using it to attack students. It’s probably still on the news. Want to watch?”

“N-no.”

There was a curious lack of tension in Malia’s voice.

“Um, did anyone... die?”

“They say no. What a relief. They’ve also confirmed evidence that the students deliberately gathered to bully that boy, so I don’t think his punishment will be too severe.”

Relieved, I sank my head into the pillow.

I see. Edwin really was still Edwin.

Without Hephaestus’s interference, he was the Edwin I knew after all.

‘... Hephaestus.’

That scene Hephaestus had shown me—no, that I had peeked at without permission.

The bow and arrow.

If my guess was right, that was surely “Artemis’s Bow.”

The bow and arrow were stored as a set in my “Workshop.” Weaving them would probably require as much mana as Gram, if not more.

And one more thing.

‘... I need to learn how to weave two weapons at the same time. Soon.’

I could still weave only one object at a time.

That had made fighting the Golem difficult, since I could only throw one dagger at a time. I had won in the end, but my mana had barely held out, and I had fainted as a result.

And above all, if I could weave Artemis’s bow and arrow, I would have to hold one in each hand.