Drevan, Rain’s old friend, was said to be around 200 years old.
Though there were variations, dwarves were a race that typically lived up to 300 years on average.
Some passed away as early as 200, which could be considered a short lifespan for their kind, but as long as they didn’t fall ill, they tended to live long lives.
So the chances of him still being alive were high.
“Living nearby and not meeting for twenty years, huh?”
I returned to the city of knights.
I had heard that Drevan lived here.
As expected of a dwarf, he seemed to be spending his later years crafting weapons and armor.
And he wasn’t even that far from home.
Even if he had a severe case of laziness, even if I factored in the notorious indolence of elves, this was a distance worth visiting at least once every few years.
“If you don’t have a decently long lifespan, you can’t even be friends with an elf, huh?”
I walked along the main street of the marketplace and stopped at a secluded corner.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The crisp sound of metal striking metal echoed through the air.
A forge, with one side of the building completely open.
A burly dwarf with a thick beard was standing before an anvil, silently hammering away.
“You’re Drevan, right?”
As I called out to him, he halted his hammering.
Lifting his head, he gave me a sullen look.
“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want?”
His voice was rough yet full of energy.
Despite having lived more than twice the lifespan of an average human, he was still remarkably sturdy.
“Rain introduced me to you. I was hoping to get your advice on something. Would that be alright?”
“What? Rain?”
Drevan’s lips twitched.
“…Never heard of her.”
A curt response.
I couldn’t blame him.
Since the name of a friend he hadn’t heard from in twenty years suddenly came up, it was understandable.
Even though they were both long-lived races, Rain was different. She had spent her days secluded in the forest.
Drevan, on the other hand, lived as a blacksmith and was actively engaging in society.
It was only natural for him to have some resentment.
“Don’t be too upset. Rain sent you something good.”
“…What is it?”
I opened my subspace storage.
“Let’s see…”
Reaching into the dark rift that had appeared in midair, I rummaged around before pulling out a large oak barrel.
“…….!”
Drevan shot up from his seat and strode toward me.
“What’s inside?”
“It’s liquor. A rare kind, brewed using a technique passed down among the elves.”
His eyes widened as he examined the barrel.
“Ohhh…”
Rain had said this would work, and she was right.
She had assured me that as long as there was alcohol involved, Drevan could be placated even if he was sulking.
I had no idea how many years it had been aged, but judging by the condition of the barrel, it was at least a decade old…
Could it be over a hundred years?
Considering Rain’s personality, it wouldn’t be impossible.
“Since you brought such a fine gift, I suppose I’ll let it slide…”
His mood seemed to lift instantly.
When I moved the oak barrel to the corner of the forge for him, he looked utterly satisfied.
“So, what is it you wanted?”
Drevan asked.
“I heard you know how to tame a magic sword.”
“I do.”
“I was wondering if you could take a look at mine.”
“You own a magic sword?”
I handed him Shadow Fang from my waist.
As I lightly pulled the hilt, the black blade slid out with a smooth shring.
“This is the pitch-black magic sword.”
As expected of a blacksmith with 200 years of experience, he recognized it instantly.
“What do you think?”
“It’s in excellent condition. Whether it can be tamed, though, is another matter.”
“Rain said that if anyone could do it, it would be you, Drevan.”
“Haha, that woman said that… Well, she’s not entirely wrong.”
Drevan stroked his beard, looking a little embarrassed.
So, the old man was weak to compliments.
“Come to think of it, it’s been nearly a century since I last handled a magic sword.”
“You’ve seen one before?”
“A long time ago, someone brought in the crimson magic sword for repairs.”
The Crimson Magic Sword.
A blade said to unleash flames comparable to a dragon’s breath with just a single swing.
In terms of sheer attack power, it was the strongest among magic swords.
That also meant it had many people after it…
“Wasn’t it lost decades ago?”
Thanks to my regressions, I had access to a vast amount of information, yet I had never come across anything regarding the whereabouts of the Crimson Magic Sword.
It was a blade that had vanished without leaving a single trace.
“So I’ve heard. But to me, it was just another customer’s sword. I have no idea how it disappeared.”
What a shame.
I had hoped to get some valuable intel.
“Well, anyway, I have a favor to ask… But first, what exactly does it mean to tame a magic sword?”
Perhaps my inability to wield the sword properly wasn’t just a matter of skill.
Rain had raised the possibility and introduced me to this blacksmith, but even she hadn’t been able to explain exactly what taming a magic sword entailed.
“A magic sword isn’t just about the blade itself. The real essence lies in the power imbued within it. That power comes from high-level magic, the kind even the best mages can’t easily replicate. It’s not something you can adjust at will. However, by refining the blade itself, it’s possible to enhance its efficiency.”
Even the most intricate magic would weaken over time.
But magic swords were crafted with such mastery that, at the very least, their potential remained intact.
And so, the process of restoring them to their prime condition—
It seemed that “taming” referred to drawing out the sword’s power through physical adjustments rather than magical ones.
“The day has finally come to taste Rain’s liquor again.”
Drevan’s gaze drifted toward the oak barrel.
“Care for a drink?”
“No, I’m good.”
“What a shame. To think I have no one to share this fine drink with.”
“It’s the middle of the day. Isn’t it a bit early to be drinking?”
The man was about to start his workday, and here he was, talking about alcohol.
Since I couldn’t afford to wander around drunk, I politely declined.
“Come back in two days. I can’t guarantee success, so don’t get your hopes up too much.”
“I’ll be counting on you.”
Leaving Shadow Fang in his care, I turned and left the forge.
***
Two days had passed like that.
Rather than wasting time traveling back and forth, I had stayed in the city of knights. That was when Jade showed up.
“That bastard!”
“A disgrace who knows nothing of chivalry!”
As we walked together, insults rained down from all directions.
People who recognized Jade pointed at him and their faces contorted with anger.
It was the reputation he had built through his duels.
“Seems like everyone hates you.”
“I brought it on myself. I just have to accept it.”
Someone hurled an egg at him, but Jade swiftly dodged it.
The egg ended up hitting someone across the street, and suddenly, the townsfolk were arguing amongst themselves.
“You call that accepting it? You should’ve just taken the hit.”
Harsh.
The knights were already furious after being humiliated. This would only make things worse.
“I could see it coming. How was I supposed to just stand there and take it?”
“Well, that’s true, but…”
It wasn’t like I was going to pay for his laundry. Maybe I was meddling for no reason.
I decided not to push the matter any further.
We arrived at Drevan’s shop.
“Oh, you’re here! Just finished working on it!”
The old dwarf with a thick beard greeted us heartily.
In one hand, he held a hammer, and in the other, Shadow Fang.
“Looks like you had a tight schedule. If I’d known, I would’ve told you to take your time.”
“No, it’s just because I took my time with it.”
As I stepped closer, I noticed his face was completely flushed.
“Sir, have you been drinking?”
“Haha, you caught me, huh?”
Of course, he was caught.
His face was as red as a strawberry.
Was that why he seemed oddly cheerful?
“Can I take a look at the sword?”
“I’ve finished tempering it. That thing was just as remarkable as the Crimson Magic Sword.”
Drevan handed Shadow Fang back to me.
At a glance, there weren’t any major changes, but the moment I gripped the handle, I felt it clearly.
The magic infused in the blade had grown significantly stronger.
“A swordsman of your caliber should be able to tell without me explaining. Try swinging it at a monster and you’ll see its true worth.”
Drevan stretched his shoulders, tapping them with his hammer as if they were sore.
It must have been tough working on a sword like this.
I appreciated him taking on such a demanding request despite his age.
“Here’s your payment. You didn’t mention a price, so I added what I thought was fair.”
I handed him a pouch filled with gold coins I had collected from the dungeon.
Drevan peeked inside.
“Hmm… A young man with proper manners, I see.”
“A master craftsman like you deserves at least this much.”
I had made sure to give him a generous amount. Enough that he wouldn’t feel cheated.
Because of that, I had to gather funds all over again.
“Enough, you rascal. What would an old man with only a few years left do with such a fortune?”
Drevan tossed the pouch back to me.
“You’re not going to take it?”
“I already did! That!”
He pointed toward a barrel of liquor.
But that was just something I had delivered for him.
“Just tell Rain to drop by sometime. That rascal hasn’t shown her face in thirty years.”
I had heard it was twenty years, but I guess it was actually thirty.
Yep, this is exactly why you shouldn’t befriend an elf.
“If it’s about that, Jade would be the better one to deliver the message.”
“Jade?”
Drevan tilted his head in confusion.
“I’m, uh… the Sword Saintess’s disciple.”
Jade spoke awkwardly, as if embarrassed.
“I never thought Rain was the type to take on a disciple.”
“Oh, well… I am her disciple, but more importantly, I’m her son.”
“What? Her son?! Rain had a kid?”
Drevan’s voice shot up in shock.
“Hey, wait! Don’t just blurt things out like that!”
“Mr. Drevan was one of master’s comrades. One of her few friends. You’re also not at an age where having elf blood should be something to be ashamed of.”
“Haa…”
Jade let out a sigh, as if giving up.
“Yeah, Rain is my mother. She took me in when I was an orphan and raised me.”
The Sword Saintess. Someone who had chosen seclusion to avoid fame and attention.
Jade explained that this was why he had deliberately kept his connection to Rain a secret.
“Hoo… So that’s what that rascal did, huh?”
Having spent thirty years without contact, Drevan hadn’t even known Jade existed.
Now, learning this unexpected side of his old comrade, he narrowed his eyes.
“But it looks like business isn’t going well. I’ve always heard that dwarves are symbols of master blacksmiths. Is there a reason for this?”
Jade brought up a sensitive topic.
“I’ve gotten old. Guess my skills have declined.”
Drevan stroked his beard with a resigned expression.
“A blacksmith who’s lost his touch wouldn’t be able to handle a magic sword. You were just outmatched in sales, weren’t you?”
This city, where knights could be found everywhere, was naturally filled with weapon shops.
Merchants here were so aggressive that they would approach any adventurer on sight, sometimes to the point of being a nuisance.
It gave the impression that the louder you were, the more you sold.
For someone like Drevan, it was an unfair playing field.
“Ugh… Well, that’s part of it too.”
Even if he had taken it easy in his later years, it must have still bothered him.
The only ones happy about a shop with no customers were the employees who got paid regardless.
But for a business owner who relied on earnings, it could only be disheartening.
Now that I had gotten my payment back, maybe it was time to roll up my sleeves.
“I’ll help you.”
***
The promotional strategy was simple.
“This is a sword crafted by a dwarf! Witness its power. It can slice through steel itself!”
In the busiest street of the marketplace,
I swung the two-handed sword made by Draven with all my might toward the sword Jade was holding.
Clang!
The blade snapped in half with ease and its broken pieces tumbled to the ground.
“If anyone can bring me a sword that can withstand this, I’ll pay you a thousand gold coins!”
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