WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Wizard of the Abyss

[Translator – Aren]

Chapter 56 - Tempering (2)

To be honest, Brimdal was fully aware that he undoubtedly was a lunatic.

"All life is born, consumes the years given to it, and then dies. Those pointy-eared bastards are no different. Were we born to die?”

"What matters is what we leave behind. The weapon you forge will remain long after you disappear, so forge masterpieces!”

"..."

Forging masterpieces, so one won’t be forgotten.

That was the path other dwarves chose.

But in Brimdal’s eyes, throwing oneself into molten lava to create a tool was the height of stupidity.

After all, a weapon was just a weapon. If it was left to rot in some vault, one would never recognize its worth, losing all meaning.

So, unable to find a better path, he simply kept forging swords like all the others, until one day—

He saw a human Knight.

He was a foolish idiot who dared to enter a dwarven cavern to steal a masterpiece. After being beaten half to death, the man was thrown into a cell.

However, Brimdal saw it as a different possibility, so he visited the imprisoned Knight.

"Hey, Human. How did you manage to deflect the hammer I threw at you? That shouldn’t have been possible for you with that tiny body of yours.”

"...? Anyone can do that with enough training.”

He answered as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

After pondering about this matter for a long time, Brimdal shut himself inside his workshop.

A full month later, he opened his tightly shut door again.

"Brimdal, what kind of weapon have you created this… Have you gone insane?!”

"Gaaasp…!”

The dwarves had assumed that he shut himself away to forge some never-before-seen, formidable sword but were completely horrified when they saw him.

Brimdal had shaved his beard clean off.

"Y-you…?”

"My friends, I don't think I'm actually all that interested in making swords. Instead, I want to try creating something else.”

"W-what did you just say?”

"No matter how I look at it, anything that cannot shine by itself has no value.”

"What nonsense are you babbling?!”

"If I’m going to hammer something, I want to hammer something alive. I want to see the potential of something living and breathing, not lifeless steel.”

Brimdal, filled to the brim with confidence, proclaimed this and left for the capital as the greatest shame of dwarvenkind.

About 100 years later—

After turning 1300 apprentices into cripples—

He managed to forge the greatest Knight the Empire had ever seen.

...And then went on to cripple another 2000.

But none of those failures were without reason.

Brimdal had learned many things.

The human will and its limits.

The minimum hammer blows required for tempering.

How to avoid shattering something. How to avoid letting something crumble.

The vague concept of talent and how to make it something concrete.

So he knew to some extent with just a glance that this particular lump of rock wasn’t suited for tempering.

It’ll break quickly. At best, it would just become a stone dagger.

"Get up. Simply approaching death isn’t enough. To awaken a new sense, your body must feel that it needs it!”

"Yes."

"Walk through the fire! Grasp the sword! Do not forget for even a single moment that something before you wants to kill you. Never give up on your desire to survive!”

"Yes.”

"Don’t even dream of getting treated. You must feel the sensation of death even more deeply. That it’s almost over, that your breath is about to stop, don’t let go of these thoughts—”

"Yes. I understand everything, so you can stop talking now.”

"..."

The training grounds.

Brimdal stared at the small boy struggling to rise while holding a sword larger than his own body. What a grotesque sight.

His forehead was torn open, blood running down his face. His entire body was bruised. He couldn’t even stand properly, and yet he was holding himself up with his bones alone, dragging the large sword as he glared at Brimdal.

Even with one eye closed from the blood running into it, his aim was accurate.

At Brimdal’s throat.

There was no killing intent. Nor was there anger. But Brimdal found his hand reflexively reaching to his neck.

That quiet, unwavering determination in the boy’s eyes made him do so.

"...Hmm, your grit is worth looking at, at least.”

If things had gone as he expected, he should have broken long ago.

No matter how much one trained, a child was still a child. When death drew near, no matter how firm one’s resolve was, any goal would be forgotten.

That was why it normally took a long time of constant exposure to it to reach the necessary stage. Forcing them to tremble yet never forget—

But this boy was already past that.

That was quite unfortunate for Brimdal. It meant that he wouldn’t just run away after a day or two.

'Come to think of it…'

He had apparently survived almost a whole year living in a Great Realm.

With talent that low, even experiencing near-death once a day would have been unlikely.

Which meant, every time he came close to death, he must have gone through this same concentrated experience.

He refused to give up even with death right around the corner, desperately struggling to survive—over and over, with great intensity, without a moment of rest.

What could have happened to him? Brimdal tried imagining it for a moment, then shook his head and gave an order.

"Attack as well. If you have the will, then expressing it is important as well.”

"Understood."

Jern set down the sword.

Then, clenching his fist, he charged at Brimdal and kicked him in the gut.

Bewildered, Brimdal asked,

"Why did you throw away the sword?”

"I didn’t come here to learn swordsmanship. I came here to learn Arcane Strengthening.”

"..."

He said it so confidently it made Brimdal feel like he was the strange one here.

'He definitely won’t just quit after a few days.’

Sighing, Brimdal slammed his hammer down on him again.

-Bam!

"What’s this?"

"Medicine and bandages. Apply them.”

"Will this stuff actually heal me? I mean, will I return to how I was before?”

"Of course not. It’ll hurt quite a bit, and moving will be difficult.”

"Then what about tomorrow’s training?”

"It’ll be better. You’ll find it a lot easier to sense death.”

"..."

Watching Jern’s expression sour, Brimdal hoped to hear the words he had been hoping for.

But seeing Jern calmly applying the medicine and wrapping himself up in bandages, a disappointed expression appeared on his face.

That meant this tedious process would last for more than a week.

"From now on, I’ll add more cuts. Seeing your own blood flow will help you realize it even more. And I’ll say it in advance, but starting with this next phase, you might die.”

Actually, he would carefully control his blood loss so that it wouldn’t get to that.

Jern twitched an eyebrow and muttered.

"Are you going to do all this to Linmel as well?”

"That kid probably understood everything from yesterday’s training.”

"Hmm, true.”

Jern nodded calmly, then was torn open again before he could even let out a scream.

That evening, Brimdal, looking down at the bloodied Jern lying on the ground, he asked, just in case,

"Don’t you want to give up now?”

"...Not yet.”

"Tsk."

That meant this training would last for more than two weeks.

By the third week—

"...Ah."

"What is it?”

"I can see the currents.”

Cut, slashed, pierced… Jern, whose body had scars atop of scars atop of scars, looked more like a moving corpse than a human. He murmured in a tone completely different from the beginning as he stared up at the sky.

"How strange. I can see which way the seawater will move. Even if a sudden current is about to hit me, I think I can avoid it now.”

"...What nonsense are you spouting?"

Brimdal assumed that Jern had finally lost his mind from the training.

Until he saw Jern reach out to grab something in the air, that is.

"Like this, I can catch it…without even forcing myself.”

"..."

Watching Jern release what he had just grasped, Brimdal felt a disappointing certainty come over him.

It was how beginners who had stepped into the beginning stages of Arcane Strengthening reacted.

While his progress was slow, he was frighteningly fast to grasp things.

'This…'

Jern licked his torn lips and smiled.

"Now it’s finally starting to get a bit fun.”

Seeing that dreadful grin, Brimdal realized that he had been completely mistaken.

This training—

Wouldn’t end with that boy breaking.

"...Come.”

"Yes."

In the end, it wasn’t Jern who yielded, but Brimdal.

* * *

The advice I had received from Scarlet Abyss had been sound.

I really had been on the brink of death.

"..."

A table covered with blankets, serving as a makeshift bed in the cabin.

I lay on it, lazily swiping at the air.

I could see the overall flow of the currents. However, I had to focus to see it. The moment I blinked they would vanish from my view again—

"This is fun.”

And I could feel the danger in it.

So this was the true nature of the seawater I had been breathing in to replenish my mana. Put simply, I had basically been chugging gasoline and using it as fuel.

So…

Enough of that. I shook my head, pushing all those thoughts aside, and sat up.

It was about time for Brimdal’s lessons to start. The first few weeks felt like torture, but now they were getting fun.

I think I was more suited to being a Knight. I found it really satisfying to learn by moving my body like this.

Though, it wasn’t like I got used to the pain now. Hearing the door rattle open, I jumped down from where I was sitting.

"You’re here. What are we doing today?”

"You’ll rest today."

"?"

What was that supposed to mean?

As I tilted my head, Brimdal, wearing his usual grumbling expression, put on his coat and grabbed several swords from the storage room.

"An old comrade called for me. I’ll have to head to the capital for a bit.”

"Hmm. Then may I come along?”

"I don’t mind, but why?”

"There’s someone I want to check on.”

I wanted to take this chance to ask Ciel whether Dercia had woken up.

I climbed onto Brimdal’s carriage and asked just in case,

"Couldn’t we train on the way?”

"...Do you think training is that simple? I can strike you with exactly enough fear and pressure to push you to the edge of death without having you cross it. No one else can do that. And the idiots out there don’t even try.”

"So is this pushing to the verge of death thing only something you use? What about other Knights?”

"They just practice nonstop until death comes knocking. A slow, stupid method.”

"..."

The usual method also sounded horrifying.

But nowhere near Brimdal’s.

We rode several hours until we finally reached the capital.

It had only been a few weeks, yet so many things had changed. For one, there were far more people on the streets.

And everyone seemed to be heading in the same direction.

So I asked, confusion apparent on my face,

"Where are all of these people going?”

"Hmm..."

Brimdal pondered for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, you’ve only been training, so you didn’t notice the outside world’s movements. It’s better to see it for yourself than hear me explain.”

"Huh?"

What did he mean by that?

"Follow me.”

I followed Brimdal, whose pace had picked up, toward the heart of the capital.

There, five ordinary-looking children were being taken away in shackles.

They were being led away like criminals. Their wrists were cuffed, but the Knights around them had their swords drawn, ready to cut them down if they moved even slightly.

"Who are they–…?”

I was about to ask, but—

When I let my Tide Sense roll over them, it struck me, my expression hardening.

Wizards—but something about them felt different.

Brimdal spoke calmly, confirming my thoughts.

"Hmph, so Fallens can recognize each other, huh? Those are your friends. They’re being isolated and sent off to spend the rest of their lives in some remote village.”

"What a charming way to put it.”

"It’s true though.”

All the prisoners were mages who had fallen into the Abyss.

Judging by their age, they hadn’t fallen voluntarily, but the people watching didn’t seem to care.

Everyone around us was either clicking their tongues or smirking, seeming amused, so I tilted my head in confusion.

"Are they all part of Scarlet Abyss?”

"No. They’re the unlucky souls Scarlet Abyss dragged down.”

"...Then what did they do wrong?”

"Falling.”

"Aha."

I nodded.

"Well, even before Scarlet Abyss, people didn’t take too kindly to the Fallen. My master once said that a hundred years ago, they’d just kill anyone who fell.”

"It’s inevitable. Even though they are doomed to die, they have been given immense power they can’t properly control in return—would you really leave these types of people unchecked? Pity is one thing and duty another. Do you have anything more to say?”

Brimdal wasn’t wrong.

The Fallen were dangerous. Even without the risk of them becoming part of Scarlet Abyss, they were like ticking time bombs that could explode at any moment.

Restraining them the moment they appear. That was what a nation had to do to protect its people.

So I shook my head.

"Not really.”

"Then why don’t you just die?”

"You really don’t like me, huh?”

Even after weeks of physical training, this insane dwarf, who saw humans as raw ore, still was displeased with me.

"Hmpf, be back at the carriage by 3 pm. If you’re late, I’m leaving you behind.”

"Yes."

We had arrived here pretty early, so I had plenty of time.

Just when I was about to turn around to leave, Brimdal called out to me, seemingly annoyed. Yeah, no fond mentor-student relationship to be found between us.

"...And one more thing, stop.”

He pointed toward the front of the cavalry leading away the prisoners.

"Do you see those Knights?”

"Yes."

Black armor, sharp eyes with a murderous glint to them.

Overall, they seemed far more dangerous than the average Knight

"They’re part of a newly formed unit dedicated to capturing and eliminating Fallen. They always wear black armor, so don’t get caught. I won’t protect you.”

"Those guys look way scarier than the others.”

"Of course. They’re all Knights of Heavenly Retribution, after all. Run into one, and you’ll be spending a long time with your new friends.”

"I’ll be careful."

"Do that."

After giving me some advice, Brimdal turned and left, as if his work was done here.

I watched the procession of what one might call prisoners for a moment.

It was awful but far more humane compared to past accounts. Aletus told me before that the Empire’s old policy was immediate extermination for any mage discovered to be an Abyss Realm mage.

So maybe it was him who pulled some strings in the end. As I pondered over this matter, some whispers reached my ears.

"My little sister died in the city because of trash like those guys…!”

"Tsk, lifelong exile? Why in the world aren’t they just killing them?”

"I heard the princess intervened…”

"...Ahem."

The princess?

Lumia? Or her older sister?

Probably her older sister. Judging by what I saw of her, she was nothing more than an arrogant brat, so there was no way she would bother to save the Fallen.

I have never met that other princess, and yet I keep receiving help from her. Just as these kinds of thoughts spun in my mind—

I met the eyes of one of the Knights of Heavenly Retribution leading the prisoners.

Those fierce eyes were glaring at me. They weren’t just scanning the crowd. They were directly staring at me.

Now wasn’t the time for me to look suspicious, so I bounced around and waved my hands wildly like a cheerful kid my age.

"...Hmph."

The Knight of Heavenly Retribution snorted and looked away.

Works every time.

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