WeTried Translations

 

Translator: [IncomeElastic]

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

 


 

◈ I Became a Blacksmith the Rankers Are Obsessed With ◈

 

Chapter 61

──────

The White-Fire Crystal

 


 

* * *

 

A Sun Dwarf who started the war.

 

So, wait... the war criminal was Boldr, sitting right here in front of me?

 

For a moment, I had no idea how to react.

 

"I believed that if I could get my hands on the Elves' craft, I could lead the Sun Dwarves to greater heights."

 

"……."

 

The means were wrong, sure.

 

This might be something only I could say, but.

 

The theory itself doesn't seem to have been wrong.

 

I'd experienced firsthand what happens when Elf and Dwarf craft come together.

 

Spring Without Frost.

 

Stockings that couldn't have been made with dwarven technique alone.

 

"Countless dwarves followed my choice. They believed it must be right, since the one leading the way was a Sage Artisan… but there was no future waiting where I pointed them."

 

Just as Hareungar had said.

 

After years of war, all that remained was ruin.

 

"The workshops collapsed, the techniques were lost. As I recall, there were more hands we had to bury than hands left to hold a hammer."

 

"……."

 

"Only then did I understand. When the one who leads loses their way,"

 

Boldr slowly closed his eyes.

 

"everyone following behind falls off the cliff along with them."

 

The teacup settled back onto the table.

 

"After the war ended, I knelt alone before the sun."

 

Before the sun, meaning... the sun god?

 

One name came to mind, but that wasn't important right now.

 

"I prayed never to lose my way again. To be able to see where my choices led. To see what waited at the end of that road."

 

"…So that's how you got that eye…."

 

But.

 

There's no way a god would grant a wish for nothing in return.

 

At least every god I'd seen so far had been greedy, every last one.

 

Except for Gaia.

 

"I offered up my death."

 

"You mean you gave up your life?"

 

"Not quite."

 

Boldr pointed at his golden eye.

 

"The right to close my eyes in peace once my life was spent."

 

"……."

 

At first, I didn't understand what he meant.

 

"Even after my breath stops, I can't rest. Even once my body is gone, I remain in this place, forced to watch, endlessly, the future to come and the road my descendants walk."

 

Ah, so.

 

In other words, he didn't even get to clock out after dying.

 

"So I died, but I never died completely."

 

The golden eye glowed softly.

 

"Do you know what the first thing I saw was, once I gained the Sage's Eye?"

 

The corner of his mouth lifted.

 

"New Sage Artisans."

 

Boldr held up three fingers.

 

"The eighth, the ninth, the tenth. I saw a future where three Sage Artisans appeared, one after another."

 

"Isn't that incredible?"

 

The workshops had collapsed, and countless artisans had died, or so he'd said.

 

How could a place like that produce three Sage Artisans back to back?

 

"Because they had to survive."

 

He seemed to read the look on my face, and smiled bitterly.

 

"Hardship pushed the surviving dwarves in front of the fire. No one ordered it, but everyone tried, with their own two hands, to overcome the trial."

 

Three Sage Artisans bloomed out of that.

 

I understood what he meant.

 

They always say heroes are born in troubled times, right?

 

Maybe the Sun Dwarves were exactly like that.

 

The only way to survive was to become an Heir of Flame.

 

"We rebuilt the workshops that had fallen. We carried on the techniques that had been cut off, and raised the tribe back up to a point where no one would ever have to go hungry again."

 

In the end, Heirs of Flame returned.

 

There were now four Sage Artisans.

 

Naturally, they ended up making a great many divine implements too.

 

"As gods flocked to them and offerings piled up, the Sun Dwarves entered a new golden age."

 

Boldr had once plunged his people into crisis.

 

But he'd acknowledged his own failure,

 

and, with the lesson he'd learned from it, raised the tribe back up again alongside the other Sage Artisans.

 

If the story had ended there,

 

it would've been a fine story of rebuilding.

 

"Everything was perfect."

 

Boldr laughed, hollow.

 

"I believed that, this time, our tribe's sun would never set. So as my death drew near, I checked the future one last time."

 

"What did you see?"

 

His smile gradually faded.

 

"It would have been better not to have seen it at all."

 

He said that after his death, the eleventh Sage Artisan, Hareungar, appeared.

 

But.

 

After Hareungar,

 

"the lineage of Sage Artisans came to an end."

 

Grown prosperous, the Sun Dwarves stopped overcoming the trial.

 

The gods' offerings kept coming, in return for the divine implements the remaining four Sage Artisans worked themselves to the bone crafting.

 

Even without picking up a hammer, they could live in comfort off the offerings the gods sent alone.

 

Their bellies stayed full without ever having to leap into the fire.

 

So.

 

There was no reason left to risk your life crossing the trial.

 

"…Ah."

 

People are all the same.

 

Once your belly's full, you start thinking about other things.

 

Who's going to risk their life jumping into fire when food's already on the table?

 

No one wanted to become an Heir of Flame anymore.

 

"The Sage Artisans who bloomed out of hardship vanished again, because of the very prosperity they themselves had created."

 

Once those Sage Artisans died and the Heirs of Flame disappeared, the divine implements disappeared too.

 

Unable to get what they wanted anymore, the gods withdrew their interest one by one,

 

and the offerings and blessings stopped.

 

Belatedly, they tried to overcome the trial again.

 

Maybe a few even managed it, but….

 

No "Sage Artisan" emerged, and the fire had already gone cold for too long.

 

"In that case,"

 

so they declined again,

 

and things grew hard again,

 

"couldn't they just overcome the trial again?"

 

Just cross the trial once more.

 

Heroes bloom in troubled times, so wouldn't a new hero just come along again?

 

That's what Boldr's explanation so far had led me to feel, if I was being honest about it.

 

The Sun Dwarves, as a people, were one enormous log.

 

It was just that the Heirs of Flame and Sage Artisans happened to be exceptionally good at carrying it.

 

And from what I'd heard of their history, it didn't sound like the other dwarves were doing much to help carry the log at all.

 

'What is with this tribe?'

 

It reminded me of that thing where a family pours everything into sending just the eldest son to college, betting the whole household's future on him….

 

Except here, it wasn't college. It was a pit of fire.

 

Boldr listened to what I said and nodded,

 

"The problem is, the Tower opened after that."

 

"……."

 

[Gasp….]

 

Yuna seemed to know exactly what that meant.

 

And I thought I understood pretty well too.

 

"Gear sold the moment the Sun Dwarf name was attached to it, and people paid up even when the enchanter wasn't skilled."

 

Even shoddy work, even a slapdash enchant, humans still paid for it.

 

And with all that money pouring back in,

 

there was no longer any reason for a dwarf to bother crossing the trial.

 

No need to strive to make something high-end.

 

The money just came pouring in on its own.

 

But surely the gods' blessings, and the fertile land that came from them, weren't things human money alone could replace....

 

And that's when.

 

"The Company appeared."

 

"This eye can't see foreign powers. All I could tell was that something about the tribe had changed."

 

From here on, it was stuff I'd already picked up from bits and pieces elsewhere.

 

They fed dwarves who had money but were still comparatively hungry, and cleaned up the murky, half-formed system that existed.

 

They introduced a "human-made system"

 

and, promising big money, signed unfair contracts and handed out mines and jobs.

 

"All I could see was fire going out, will fading away... It's just..."

 

In exchange, they took the techniques. They took the right to sell the gear.

 

The enchanting rights, of course, too.

 

And in the end, they took away even the dwarves' chance to ever stand back up on their own.

 

"It wasn't a pleasant thing to watch."

 

That much was public knowledge, at least.

 

The finer details, I'd probably need to hear from the current Sun Dwarf leader himself.

 

"So... you already had a rough idea of the future?"

 

"That's right."

 

- Tap, tap.

 

Boldr tapped the corner of his glowing golden eye.

 

"Didn't you try to stop it?"

 

"Stop what, exactly?"

 

Boldr asked back.

 

"Should I have left the starving to starve, out of fear that the tribe might grow corrupt?"

 

"……."

 

"Or should I have ordered them to reject prosperity right then, because the gods would leave someday, far off in the future?"

 

Knowing the future

 

didn't mean he could ignore the suffering of the present.

 

He'd gained that eye so he'd never lose his way again,

 

and yet Boldr had still had to choose a road, even knowing it led to a cliff's edge.

 

"Except."

 

Boldr looked at me again.

 

"I saw one tiny spark bloom out of a fire gone dead."

 

"Clumsy. But burning."

 

"……!"

 

Only then did I understand.

 

『To the heir who's taken their first step.』

 

『Clumsy, yes. But unmistakably burning.』

 

That inscription, it really had been

 

written with me in mind, exactly.

 

"I spent what time I had left carving a contingency into the appraisal machine. So that when the work I'd seen finally appeared in the world, the heir could find their way here."

 

And just before he died, he said, he'd left his own consciousness behind in the workshop,

 

unable to close his eyes even in death.

 

"So you've been waiting for me this whole time?"

 

"That's right."

 

Boldr lifted his teacup.

 

"I never imagined you'd turn out to be human. Nor that you'd become a Certified Blacksmith in such a short span of time."

 

"…Ha ha."

 

"But that's not what matters here."

 

So what was it he actually wanted to say to me?

 

Save the tribe? Save the Sun Dwarves?

 

"Is there something you want from me?"

 

Something like, raise the tribe back up.

 

Or become a Sage Artisan, become the tribe's leader, its chieftain.

 

Honestly, even if he asked me that, I'd be in trouble.

 

Sure, I was an Heir of Flame.

 

But I was human, through and through.

 

Except.

 

"I have no intention of asking you to save the Sun Dwarves."

 

"…What?"

 

That wasn't what I'd expected to hear.

 

"I already forced everyone once down a road I believed was right. How could someone like me force another road on you now?"

 

- Clack, clack.

 

He tipped back the last mouthful of tea into his mouth.

 

"Whether you punish this tribe that's lost its pride and turn your back on them, or pity them and help them, that's your choice to make."

 

Me.

 

I'd always thought the Sun Dwarves were cool. Always.

 

They had their own kind of pride.

 

Craftsman's spirit, literally, that was exactly what it was, wasn't it?

 

Staking everything on every last detail, risking their lives just to finish a single piece of gear.

 

But actually, that

 

was the will of the "Heirs of Flame," the road they alone had walked.

 

The Sun Dwarves as a people were... more fragile than I'd thought.

 

They'd collapse the moment whoever was pulling them forward disappeared, and forget the fire the second their bellies were full.

 

They seemed like ordinary people, the kind you'd find anywhere.

 

What I'd admired wasn't the tribe itself.

 

It was the road walked by the handful of people who'd carried that log.

 

Now I understood why the Heirs of Flame had been so superhumanly relentless.

 

'You are the tribe's future.'

 

I understood now why that phrase had been etched into every single piece of gear I'd made since becoming a Certified Blacksmith.

 

It hadn't been an exaggeration at all.

 

Because the Heirs of Flame really were their only hope.

 

"You are an Heir of Flame. Every Sun Dwarf must follow you. You can even control the flow of mana stones, anything is possible."

 

So, either punish them and turn away,

 

or pity them and help.

 

Boldr had told me to pick one of the two.

 

But as far as I was concerned,

 

"Shouldn't we set the Company aside from all this first?"

 

Blooming out of crisis, that was literally their history.

 

I had no intention of starving them and forcing them into the trial.

 

But I wasn't going to light the fire for them either.

 

Why would I?

 

I didn't hate them enough to punish them, and I didn't worry about them enough to pity them.

 

Just.

 

There was an outside hand that had taken away even their choice to pick up a hammer again on their own.

 

That's the only thing I'd cut away.

 

"Just the outside interference."

 

If I got rid of just the cause that had smashed even the structure they'd need to rise up on their own,

 

"Well, once things are back to how they were, we'll find out whether they're really beyond hope, or whether the Company really was the problem all along."

 

The Tower stayed open, and climbers never stopped coming.

 

Demand for gear had never once died out.

 

It was just that, right now, that whole structure had been swallowed up by the Company.

 

"And besides, isn't there still a place that's held onto its senses?"

 

The 89th floor.

 

That place still hadn't bowed to the Company.

 

"……."

 

Boldr listened calmly to what I said, then nodded.

 

"Not punishing, and not saving either."

 

He let out a short laugh.

 

"You mean to heat it up first and judge from there? Like iron?"

 

"Maybe something like that."

 

"Sure enough, you really are a blacksmith."

 

It sounded like a compliment to me.

 

"I told you to come find me if you ever lost your way…."

 

"……."

 

"But somehow, it doesn't seem like you came here because you'd lost your way."

 

"I figured it out on the way here."

 

I didn't need to be perfect.

 

What mattered in making a hammer was my own mindset.

 

Hey, I'm supposed to be the future, aren't I?

 

"I'm an Heir of Flame."

 

The last one, at that.

 

"I'll just cut the Company loose for you."

 

I'd separate out only the force that had robbed them of their pride.

 

The bare minimum duty of an Heir of Flame.

 

I owed at least that much for the techniques I'd inherited.

 

Whether they got back up after that, or stayed sitting down, was up to the dwarves themselves.

 

But before any of that,

 

I needed to stand on my own two feet first.

 

"So, well... I'll just keep doing what I've been doing."

 

"……."

 

"I'll keep making hammers."

 

I had no intention of leading the dwarves.

 

I just

 

planned to spend my life making gear.

 

At Dolores's side.

 

And then.

 

"Ah."

 

- Shff….

 

I conjured a pair of earrings above my hand.

 

This was a dream. I could make whatever I wanted.

 

The Cradle of the Earth.

 

Boldr's gaze fixed on the tree pattern carved into the Green Jade.

 

"The Elves... that was a good idea, actually."

 

"…Well, well."

 

"Once I actually tried mixing them myself,"

 

Sun Dwarf technique.

 

And Elf technique.

 

"they go together pretty well."

 

Boldr laughed.

 

Quietly at first, then hard enough to shake his shoulders.

 

After a long while, the old man stopped laughing and wiped at the corner of his eye.

 

"You were worth the wait, after all."

 

The stove's fire was slowly going out.

 

The steam from the kettle seemed to be fading too.

 

Looked like time was up.

 

"I should get going."

 

"…Thank you."

 

"…Yeah, well."

 

It didn't really feel like I'd done anything worth thanking me for.

 

So the only thing I could offer him,

 

"I'll see you again sometime."

 

If the chance ever came.

 

Boldr looked at me for a moment,

 

"Sure."

 

He nodded slowly,

 

and the stove's last ember died out.

 

My vision... turned white.

 

I opened my eyes.

 

And what came into view was.

 

[★★★☆☆] [Adding a name back to a broken lineage.]

 

[Title Acquired: 'Boldr's Heir']

 

"……Huh?"

 

Learned behavior, I guess you'd call it.

 

By now, my body reacted like Pavlov's dog the second a title notification popped up.

 

[Reward]

 

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind,

 

than the room lit up pure white.

 

"Whoa?!"

 

The light was bright enough to sting my eyes, and I threw my arm up on reflex.

 

The dark room brightened instantly.

 

- Shhhh….

 

The light slowly died down.

 

Something was floating in front of my eyes.

 

A chunk of ore about the size of a fist.

 

Pure white.

 

The exact color you'd see looking into a furnace heated right to its limit.

 

It glowed softly, holding a white flame inside itself.

 

─────────────────

 

[The White-Fire Crystal (白火晶石)][★★★★☆]

 

─────────────────

 

『An ore crystallized from the last ember Boldr, the 7th-Generation Sage Artisan, left behind before he died.』

 

『For hundreds of years, buried in the ashes of a dead forge, it never once went cold, waiting for a new Heir of Flame.』

 

『Only when struck by an Heir of Flame does the dormant white flame (白火) finally awaken.』

 

─────────────────

 

"……."

 

I slowly reached out my hand.

 

I expected it to be hot, but the ore in front of me wasn't hot at all.

 

"Ha."

 

A laugh slipped out of me before I even realized it.

 

"You're going to become my hammer."

 

True to the word "reward,"

 

it was exactly what I needed most right now.

 

I'd gotten an ore that would become the material for a hammer.

 

As if answering my words,

 

- Whoosh.

 

the flame inside the White-Fire Crystal flared up once more.

 


 

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