Editor : Amethyst00



Kkaang–! Kkaang–!

Late at night.

The sound of hammering echoed from the forge.

Golden flames surged inside the furnace.

It looked beautiful, like molten gold ablaze.

But the surrounding temperature was beyond imagination.

It felt as though the space itself might melt.

In fact, all ordinary furnishings had either melted or burned, leaving the inside of the forge empty.

Still, the dwarven girl hammering in front of the anvil didn't lower the temperature.

Even her sweat evaporated before it could drip.

Though her body seemed like it might cook under the overwhelming heat, she gritted her teeth and endured.

Whoooosh–!

Drianna, with stubbornly clenched lips, shoved the sword she had been hammering back into the furnace.

Kwoaaa–!

The flames inside roared even more violently, as if reacting to the sword.

"Eek?!"

The fire resisted the sword, trying to push it out.

Drianna clenched her eyes shut and forced it back in despite the backlash.

A moment later.

She pulled the sword out of the golden flames and placed it back on the anvil.

Whether it had absorbed the fire or not, golden flames danced along the blade.

Seeing that, Drianna resumed hammering.

Kkaang–! Whoosh! Kkaang–! Fwoosh!

With each strike of the hammer, the flames surged wildly.

It looked as though she was hammering the fire back into the sword, as it tried to escape.

Kkaang–! Kkang–!

Eventually, the hammering stopped.

And with it, the furnace flames died down instantly.

The temperature around them cooled rapidly.

Ssssssss–!

Steam gushed from Drianna's body.

It looked like her sweat evaporated the moment it formed, releasing clouds of vapor.

Drianna collapsed to the floor.

Damien, who had been silently watching her work, approached the anvil.

He picked up the sword she had been forging.

At first glance, it looked like an ordinary iron sword.

But to Damien's eyes, its value was unmistakable.

Though it had lost its original power since parting from its master, the craftsmanship alone was enough to reveal how extraordinary it was.

'The only weapon Dweno ever recognized as a true work of art during his lifetime.'

With that thought, Damien's gaze turned to the hammer Drianna held.

Aeternus — the hammer once used by Dweno.

'Proof that Dweno acknowledged her as his successor.'

Damien's eyes darkened slightly.

At that moment, Drianna, who had been sitting collapsed, suddenly lifted her head and stood up.

"How is it, Sir Damien? Did the sword regain even a little of its original form?"

"Not at all."

"Hmm! Why not? I followed exactly what you taught me. Did I miss something?"

Drianna asked earnestly.

Damien shook his head.

"You did it right. Maybe it's just a lack of talent. This isn't just about blacksmithing skills."

What Damien was teaching Drianna was restoration.

Back when they had conquered Dweno's world, Drianna had received direct instruction from Dweno on blacksmithing techniques and flame control.

Since then, there had been hope that she might be able to restore Dweno's weapons — but she had yet to reach that level.

So now she was learning from Damien, who could at least partially recreate and restore Dweno's divine artifacts.

But things weren't going smoothly.

'And I can't ask Leo for advice on this either.'

Drianna sighed deeply.

After learning during the Dweno conquest that Leo was actually Kyle, she had started actively asking him for help with blacksmithing.

Though he wasn't a smith himself, his vast experience with divine weapons made his feedback extremely useful.

But restoration was too technical — even Leo couldn't help.

Deep in thought, Drianna asked cautiously:

"Um… Sir Damien."

"What is it?"

"I'd like some inspiration… Could you show me a weapon you've crafted?"

Damien chuckled bitterly.

"I told you before — I'm not much of a smith."

As Dweno's heir, Damien had been known for thousands of years as a renowned blacksmith.

Which is why Drianna looked confused.

"As I said before, the Damien you know is just my shadow. The real me is completely different."

Drianna fidgeted with her fingers.

"May I ask why you let a shadow stand in your place in history?"

"Yes…"

She answered honestly.

Looking into her eyes, Damien thought:

'She's just like him.'

Eyes filled with righteousness and self-belief.

Eyes that, despite present impossibilities, held unyielding faith in future potential.

After a moment, Damien said:

"I was originally taken in as the shadow of a shadow."

"A shadow… of a shadow?"

"Yeah. He was my master."

Damien looked out the window.

Moonlight streamed in.

"He was the successor of a blacksmithing family in Azo City, which produced sacred weapons."

Drianna was shocked to hear that Damien had once been a shadow.

"One day, he told me: 'In this chaotic age, our family needs a hero to survive.'"

"No way…"

"Yeah. He gave me everything — wealth, fame, power. Even his name."

"Then… Damien isn't your real name?"

"Correct. I have a true name, but not even Rodia, Seiren, or Lumene know it."

"…"

'Does Azonia know?'

Since they'd been childhood friends, she probably did.

"The real Damien sacrificed everything for me — even his life."

"…"

"Because of that grace, I exist. So I want him, not me, to be remembered in history."

"Then what about you, Sir Damien?"

"…"

"You may have received everything from him, but it was you who ended the Age of Dawn and achieved great deeds."

Drianna looked straight at him.

"You deserve to be remembered too."

"What qualifications does a half-baked successor have?"

"…"

Damien let out a cold laugh.

"You know, right? Lord Dweno isn't praised just because he fought well."

Damien looked at her.

The emotion in his eyes was envy — jealousy.

It was the first time Drianna had seen such raw emotion in him, and she shrank back in surprise.

"Many who wielded his weapons returned alive from the battlefield."

"…"

"His weapons defeated countless Tartaros demons."

Damien gritted his teeth.

"What made Dweno truly great was that he was a blacksmith of divine rank."

"B-But you, Sir Damien, as an artist, you followed in Dweno's footsteps…"

"In battle, art is worthless."

"…"

"Creating sacred weapons is far more valuable than making art. Artworks? You can just throw them together carelessly."

"…Carelessly throw together?"

Drianna's face twisted with frustration.

Not noticing her expression, Damien covered his face with his hand.

"Drianna, I envy you. I'm insanely jealous of your blacksmithing skill — nearly equal to Dweno's!"

Damien could see it.

A shining future overflowing with potential.

Even if she couldn't restore relics now, she would eventually forge divine weapons.

"…Show me."

"What?"

"Please show me the artwork you created, Sir Damien."

"Why all of a sudden?"

"Why do you scorn art? Dweno was an artist before he was a blacksmith! Don't you know why he spread beauty during the Age of Calamity?"

Drianna's voice rose with emotion.

"It was to inspire people! Dweno wasn't just a master smith — he spread hope as an artist too!"

And it was true.

During the Age of Calamity, Dweno had praised beauty and devoted himself to art because he wanted to offer hope.

His paintings and sculptures evoked nostalgia for the peaceful past and gave people something to admire and long for.

Those emotions soon turned into a desire for a better future.

Which is why Drianna couldn't accept Damien's words — no matter who he was.

Especially because—

'Seriously! Who does he think he is to say 'just throw it together'?!'

Despite all her effort, she was treated as a weirdo rather than even a third-rate artist.

So she hated Damien's dismissive words.

"I've never left behind a painting or sculpture."

"Then draw one!"

Drianna pulled out a canvas, brushes, and paints from subspace and shoved them at Damien.

He clicked his tongue, glanced at the moonlight streaming through the window, then began to paint with wild strokes.

A moment later.

"…"

Drianna stood trembling, holding the hastily painted image of moonlight through a window.

"Why do you even want to see this worthless skill…"

"…It's not there."

"What?"

"This painting has no soul! No soul at all! I can't accept this! Waaaah~!"

"Hey! Hey!"

As Drianna burst into tears and ran out, Damien stood dumbfounded.

Just then, Leo entered the forge.

"Drianna ran out crying. What happened?"

"I don't know."

Damien responded curtly.

Leo sighed.

'I came because I was a little worried, and… yeah. She's even less compatible with him than Aru and Azonia.'

bl

"Hmm? So? Are you and that girl dating or what?"

Azonia leaned her cheek on her hand, smiling brightly as she asked Duran.

"We're not anything…yet."

"Then she's fair game, right?"

Still smiling, Azonia pulled Duran closer with an arm around his shoulder.

Uncharacteristically, Duran blushed and panicked.

Yet he didn't resist.

Nella pulled out her morning star.

"Nella. Calm down. It's not like Duran's doing it because he wants to."

Celia quickly tried to hold her back.

Meanwhile, Abad poured wine into Azonia's glass.

"I'd prefer if you fed me with your mouth."

"…Please spare me, milady."

"I'll let it slide if you carry me princess-style."

Azonia giggled and clung to Abad this time.

He too blushed but couldn't bring himself to refuse her.

"I'll bash that buttery face in–!"

"Calm down! He's not doing it willingly!"

Eliana tried to stop Celia.

As Nella and Celia trembled with rage, Azonia looked over and said:

"Want to free your boyfriends?"

"They're not our boyfriends."

"We don't know those guys."

They replied coldly.

"Oh ho? Then I can do as I please?"

Hooking both arms around Abad and Duran's necks, Azonia grinned wickedly.

The two men broke into a cold sweat.

'What is this woman?!'

'I can't fight back…'

While Nella and Celia glared daggers at her, Azonia smirked.

'Teasing brats really is fun.'

In no time, she stripped even them of all their winnings.

"With this, you're my toys now too."

Celia and Nella stared at her in disbelief.

Lunia looked on, exasperated.

"What the? Lumene folks suck at gambling too?"

Thinking that, she joined the table—

—And lost faster than Celia and Nella did.

"Eiran…"

"Are you okay, Miss Lunia?"

"Can you co-sign me? I'll win it back double."

"…"

"Just once! One more and I'll win!"

Seeing her crazed eyes, Eiran flatly refused.

"Leo said not to co-sign you under any circumstances."

"This is ridiculous! The odds are the same! Why is she so good?!"

"Too bad. I'm amazing at gambling."

As Lunia shrieked, Azonia grinned dangerously.

"Well then, I've got a bunch of pretty slaves now — how should I play with them?"

Everyone who'd fallen into her hands shuddered.

Eiran tilted her head.

"I thought you only liked men?"

"Oh, didn't I say?"

Azonia flashed a sadistic smile.

"I also love tormenting pretty girls."

Just then—

"Uhh… what's going on here?"

A familiar voice came from behind.

"Sir Carl? I thought you weren't coming this time?"

Eiran's eyes widened.

Carl scratched his cheek awkwardly.

"Leo called me urgently, but… what is this mess?"

As Carl looked around, bewildered, the students under Azonia's thumb thought:

'Wow, I've never been so relieved to see Carl before.'

Carl Thomas.

Before being Lumene's top dealmaker—

—he was also Lumene's number one gambler.