Chapter 453 - Interis
Those who studied in depth the beings born with Transcendence, would often regard dragons as destroyers of nature, or as mediators of peace.
The scenery of life changed depending on what captured their interest.
The overwhelming power, which even the very few chosen with Transcendence could not bear alone, was not something that could ever be measured.
Except, of course, by the Demon King.
But even dragons, in the end, die.
It is not known whether this is of natural causes, for there has never been any account of them having a fixed lifespan, yet for all life, the concept of death accompanies birth.
And in the distant past, there was once a dwarf who discovered, for the first time, the remains of a dragon, buried in nature.
In the depths of a green-filled forest, beneath a giant tree, a white skeleton lay in eternal rest, as if in harmony with nature itself.
It was a sight worthy of myth. Drawn as if bewitched, the dwarf approached slowly, and in the end, disturbed the rest of a Transcendent species.
It was a trespass against the taboo of that time.
But that unease could not suppress the unique selfishness of a dwarf.
The dwarf secretly took the dragon's bones, and began crafting using the body of a Transcendent species. He severed all ties with his clan.
He repeated countless trials and errors.
Even when the bones broke, even when the muscles tore apart under excess strain, he did not stop hammering. He did not even know what his true goal was.
He only wished, to create a weapon no one else could ever forge.
A dreadful obsession, and yet, it became a cause.
Ultimately, he wished to prove that he was the greatest dwarf of them all.
And so, by the time the dwarf, old at 134 years, slightly beyond the average lifespan of his kind, had devoted 71 years to this pursuit, he had used up all the dragon bones he had obtained that day, and finally created one weapon.
The Dragon Sword, Magrath.
In the ancient tongue, it meant "Greatness", a sword that flourished across many ages.
The moment that sword, Magrath, emerged to the outside world in the hands of that old dwarf───the world, which had been at peace, was engulfed in war in an instant.
It was, after all, the first sword ever made from a dragon.
The dwarf sought to further his own technical progress through Magrath, while humans and beastkin sought purely the power it offered.
All were consumed by greed.
Thus, the mere existence of Magrath brought countless casualties. It appeared and disappeared throughout history, until, about 800 years ago, it vanished completely.
But the mad obsession of the dwarf who forged Magrath did not vanish. It was passed down through blood, from descendant to descendant.
To Geradin, and to Gharun as well.
Perhaps, in Gharun, that blood ran especially strong.
Yet, there was something decisively different.
When Gharun first heard, as a child, of his family's history and the story of Magrath, what had he thought?
Amazing? Worth emulating?
Not at all.
"Pathetic."
Gharun thought his ancestor more pathetic than anyone.
Kwaaaaaa───!
Molten lava rumbled with thunder.
The massive furnace, powered by it, flashed for an instant, and a fierce bolt of lightning erupted, striking Gharun.
"M, Master?!"
Linus raised his voice without meaning to, but Gharun was unshaken.
"Don't fuss, disciple."
Gharun snorted.
Blackened breath spewed from his mouth.
The scorching heat flowing through his body, was to Gharun, who was extraordinarily sturdy even among dwarves, rather a pleasant stimulus.
Narrowing his eyes, Gharun looked at the furnace.
"At last."
After nearly a week of struggle, the [Dragon's Skull] was fully heated.
If it had been the remains of any ordinary creature, the heat would have destroyed its natural qualities long ago, but dragons were different.
In whatever form they were, they never lost the power they inherently possessed.
Gharun turned toward another furnace.
Inside it was the highest-grade metal, pure Orichalcum of 100% purity.
It had been taken from the clan's treasury by forced barter. In total, seven ingots were invested, just enough for a single staff.
He pulled the lever beside it.
Screeeeeech.
The melted Orichalcum slowly poured, filling a special container.
Immediately afterward, he added other materials he had prepared from the clan's treasury, all magically treated to perfection───the Leoriarev Crystal, the Ashen Heart, the Rubii, the claw of Septa Horn that Asher once possessed, and the root of the Soul Tree, one by one.
"Now."
"Yes."
Linus, who had been waiting, connected one of the facility's conduits to it.
Through the facility's apparatus, the magical power equivalent to thirty high-grade magic stones, extracted cleanly, fused the Orichalcum with the other materials into one.
Gharun wiped the sweat from his brow.
"How is Orient?"
"Almost finished."
Linus had taken on the task of dismantling his own masterpiece, but he did not feel regret.
It was not disappearing, but being reborn into something far greater.
Huuuuum.
By using the facility's heat, Orient was made extremely unstable.
With tools replacing his right and left arms, he removed the Orb and Rune of Shock one after another, then cast the remaining frame into the furnace.
Any metal that failed to meet the standard was separated as impurity, and a superior and highest-grade alloy was created and added to the Orichalcum solution.
Those unfamiliar with metallurgy might wonder here.
Why not simply use Orichalcum alone?
The reason was simple.
The stronger the individuality of a material, the less it harmonized. To blend them together, they had to be pacified with lesser elements.
Kugugugung!
At that moment, the furnace that had melted the Orichalcum ingots roared and collapsed.
"…That was close. Will this old facility hold together?"
"Trust it. The maintenance is thorough. Hey, Geradin! Work on section 6 is done, deactivate that facility and move the remaining hands elsewhere! Manage their rest time as needed!"
"Got it, brother!"
The dwarves of the village were the key workforce that kept the facilities running smoothly.
Because Gharun had redesigned them that way.
Geradin worked more diligently than any dwarf, fulfilling his duties as chief at the same time.
Another week passed.
***
Controlling everything, Gharun jerked his chin toward Linus.
"Hold it."
The two grasped the handles of the container from both sides, climbed the stairs, and poured the Orichalcum mixture into the massive furnace holding the dragon's skull.
That was not the end.
As mentioned before, powerful materials required a mediator to reconcile them, to bring harmony.
That mediator was [Dragon's Blood].
Uncorking a vial, Gharun poured the living blood of a Transcendent species at a measured pace. It sizzled over the skull, seeping into the molten metal.
With it, a subtle glow began to ripple across the dragon bone and the entire alloy.
Gharun descended the stairs.
"Linus, call me when that light is about to vanish completely. Even if it just seems likely to fade, tell me right away. Miss it, and it can't be undone."
It was a heavy responsibility.
Linus felt his chest swell with pride, as if finally recognized by his master.
"Yes, leave it to me."
"Hm? All you have to do is watch and call me, why so serious a face… Never mind. Hand me that Orb over there."
Receiving the golden crystal Orb that once adorned Orient's tip, Gharun entered the crafting chamber.
There, a new [Mana Crystal], one he had prepared himself, was fixed at the center of a transparent container and pipes, intricately connected.
Linus had prepared it in advance.
Clack.
The Orient's Orb was locked into another transparent container, and subjected to extreme heat using the facility's power.
Six hours.
At the critical point, cracks ran through the golden crystal, its form collapsing, and the Breath of Element sealed within began to spill out.
Paaaaah.
A gray radiance flowed along the heat channels, into the new Mana Crystal.
"Hm? If it were ordinary Breath of Element, it should shine rainbow-hued… but this is far different. Is it because Asher's magic power is mixed within?"
For a user's own power to dwell inside, he must have handled Orient quite roughly indeed.
Clink.
He shut the valve, cutting off the heat.
Removing the new Mana Crystal, Gharun began shaping it with alloy disks infused with highest-grade metals.
He worked to eliminate every flaw in the process of infusion, where the Breath of Element merged into the crystal.
Then, placing it again in the container, he let the Breath of Element seep in, repeating the cycle of infusion and refinement.
Days passed once more.
At last, a "blue sphere"… a new Orb was completed.
Though it had gone through the same process as Linus, its form and color were entirely different.
Because the craftsman himself was different, the level of skill vastly superior, and because the Breath of Element contained the magic power of a Transcendent.
Just then, a loud pounding came at the door of the workshop.
"Master!! You must come at once!!! Now!!!! Immediately!!!!!"
"I'm not deaf, once is enough!!!"
Snapping irritably, Gharun handed the new Orb to Linus and climbed the furnace stairs.
"The light is faint indeed."
Kwaaajijijijik!
With immense strength, he tore off the aged furnace's upper section and hurled it aside.
Quickly, Gharun seized his massive hammer, Markuab, and raised it high overhead.
And at the instant the light fully vanished.
Kwaaaaaaaang!
Markuab came crashing down upon the [Dragon's Skull].
Crackkk.
What should not have been scratched at all, shattered into tens of thousands of fragments in the blink of an eye, sinking into the molten metal.
"Pull it!"
"Uooooooooh!"
Linus yanked the massively heavy lever with all his might.
The furnace tilted.
The molten metal, infused with dragon material, poured into a mold made with Ugumar's legacy, the Golden Anvil and Golden Hammer.
It was quenched several times in prepared mana-water to cool.
The gold left by Ugumar was once part of the Soul Tree's core, and its mana receptivity far surpassed even the Soul Tree's trunk.
"All of that nature, will be infused into the staff."
Without pause, Gharun hammered the golden mold.
Cheeeeeng! Cheeeeng! Cheeeeeng!
Dozens, hundreds of heavy strikes followed, until at last the mold shattered, and the staff's raw form was revealed within.
Gharun bared his teeth.
"Perfect, perfect."
Halfway done.
Clamping the staff with tongs, Gharun stood before the great forge and anvil.
At once, he began the quenching and tempering.
Taaang! Taaang──! Taaang! Taaang──! Taaang!
Chiiik! Chiiiik!
Taaang──! Taaang! Taaang──! Taaang! Taaang──!
The harder Geradin and the village dwarves worked, the fiercer the forge blazed, while Linus devoted himself to changing the mana-water and assisting.
At the center of them all, Gharun focused solely on the staff and his hammer.
Even forgetting himself.
With focus pushed to the limit, he wielded the massive weight of Markuab freely, tempering with flawless control.
As the shock of the hammer vibrated through his fingertips, a sudden thought struck him.
"Why do I scorn the feat of my ancestor?"
It was because of cause.
Cause, in essence, bore such weight of meaning, that its purpose was inevitably vague.
For a craftsman, who above all must hold clear purpose in creation, such a mindset was unacceptable.
The Dragon Sword, Magrath?
Yeah, let's say it's great, so what meaning does it have?
Born solely of a dwarf's cause, it never found a true resting place, endlessly changing hands.
It has no purpose.
Magrath, having already lost the meaning of creation, is nothing more than a mere blade.
'Cause must belong not to the craftsman or the weapon, but to the user.'
Weapons are to be used, and users are those who wield them.
Thus, the wielder must possess unwavering will, only then does the weapon hold meaning as a weapon.
Whether that will is good or evil.
But to embed cause into the weapon itself, to let it, in turn, devour and control its wielder───to create such a weapon, one that cannot even be properly used, is the shame of dwarves.
That is why the feat of the ancestor is useless.
The Golden Anvil is the same.
What? You dare call it the greatest creation?
"A dwarf who didn't even know what he was making!!!"
Taaaaanng!
Gharun vented his fury, and thought of the one who would soon be master of this staff.
It had always been so, from the very beginning.
Ever since he had seen Asher's magic, obtained through his awakening, it was only him.
'Two kinds of magic.'
One, without bounds, like infinity itself.
The other, rushing toward a definite end, holding destructive termination.
Such contradictory concepts, yet he bore them both in one body, as if nothing.
More than any Transcendent he had ever seen, Asher was a singular existence.
'What in the world must I create?'
To realize Asher's contradictory ideal───freedom by power, what staff would he need?
That answer, came to him instinctively.
The facility was already shut down.
For there was no further need.
Hammering the staff alone, Gharun drew back his waist, and swung both arms forward with all his strength.
Taaaaanng!
The final strike was done.
He set aside Markuab.
Beyond it, the skeleton of the staff glowed red, completed.
Swiftly carving three slots for runes, then letting the heat cool completely, its dark gray form reflected in his eyes.
Fwooong.
Linus embedded the [Rune of Shock], while Gharun embedded the [Rune of Concentration] and the [Rune of Release] into the staff.
The runes glowed blue for a moment.
The two stepped back, wiping sweat from their arms, and exhaled the breaths they had held.
"Huff, huff. Is it, done?"
"Yes, only the last remains."
Gharun shouted behind him.
"From here, the facility will collapse! Everyone out now, return to the village through the teleportation array Asher prepared! Geradin, lead them quickly!"
"Y, yes!"
Geradin hurriedly answered, guiding the village dwarves outside.
Gharun jerked his chin at his disciple.
"Linus, you go too."
"What? No, I won't."
"Hooh, defiance?"
"You told me yourself, Master. A weapon that will make history is being created. I can't miss that sight at the front row. And besides, I too am part of its creation, not only you. Even if I was just support."
"I am the same, brother. Support, but still part."
Having fulfilled his role as chief, Geradin approached.
"And if it's dangerous, how can an elder brother abandon his younger? Besides, being a dwarf as well… I must see this staff completed."
"Hmph, stubborn."
Gharun laughed heartily, then hardened his expression, holding the Orb in his hand.
Kugugugugugugu...!!!!
The entire facility began to tremble.
Linus's hair stood on end.
"No way, it's reacting even before completion…! Master, what kind of weapon have you created?!"
"Hahaha! It's urging me, telling me to finish it quickly! Good, both of you, hold the staff!"
Geradin and Linus immediately grasped the staff's frame and raised it upright.
"Don't let go!"
With Markuab in one hand and the Orb in the other, Gharun moved.
The tremor grew stronger.
A strange resonance followed, its repulsive force hurling Gharun backward. Just before falling off a cliff, he reflexively drove Markuab into the ground, halting himself.
Crackkk!! Crackkkk!
The vibrations became an earthquake, splitting and collapsing the rock. The distant magma lake surged through the fissures.
Heat filled the surroundings.
A cliff of lava formed beneath the feet of Gharun, Geradin, and Linus.
"I, is this right, Gharun?!"
"I agree! At this rate, collapse will come first, won't it?!"
"Don't be afraid!!"
Step by step, Gharun advanced.
With his jaw clenched, he endured the repulsion. He stubbornly closed the distance to the staff.
"With a Transcendent's magic infused, it's savage beyond compare! Just like its master!"
Nearly thrown away, but barely holding on, Gharun twisted his lips in a grin and asked.
"Linus!! What do you think of Asher! His personality!"
"His, his personality, suddenly?! I mean… gentle, but violent?"
"Hahahaha! Good, you have two eyes indeed! You saw it right! As you've seen, he is contradiction itself. His existence, his cause, all the same! And for such a Transcendent, what kind of staff would fit? Do you know what that means?"
"T, that is…"
"One Transcendent, will from now on, bring great change to the world! Whether for good or ill! And at the end of his ideal, this is what awaits!"
Gharun advanced two more steps.
"The rules until now will end, chaos will come, and new order, never before seen, will be forged!"
The hammer of integrity slowly extended his right hand.
"That is your name."
Fwooong.
At the very instant the final piece fell into place, the three pillars, each embedded with a high-grade rune, enclosed the blue Orb.
A fleeting silence.
"Hold the staff tight!!"
───!
The moment Gharun shouted, an immense wave of mana exploded, engulfing the three.
***
The land, devastated by fierce battle.
While imperial mages carried the unconscious Grizzwold and Leona onto an airship, Verden and Grand Duke Rivandale faced one another.
The Grand Duke spoke.
"I know you do not intend to be hostile toward the Arnak Empire. Red Volcano and Black Volcano, injured but none dead. I pondered what you might be after."
He stepped leisurely to the side.
"The culprit of the Second Prince's assault, the hammer of integrity, Gharun, who plundered Red Volcano's treasury, and then found Black Volcano's facilities… In the end, the answer is simple. So, did you create what you wanted?"
"It is being completed now."
Verden answered without hesitation.
For the other already knew. To hide the truth was meaningless.
"Impressive. To find the vanished Black Volcano Clan, lost in the tectonic upheaval 300 years ago, and to achieve your intent, like a tale of legend. Fascinating. But that aside."
His footsteps ceased.
"Though you did not cross the line, you still obstructed the Arnak Empire's path. Not enough to call for life and death struggle, but I cannot simply let you go."
"State what you want."
"Accept the invitation of the Arnak Empire."
The Grand Duke took an envelope from his breast.
It was a letter of invitation, sealed with the crest of the House of Grand Duke Rivandale.
"There is no neutrality in this world. To say you are not hostile to the Empire, is the same as saying you are friendly. Show your face as well. However you hide it, not even my insight can pierce your appearance, it is frustrating."
If not an enemy, then an ally, is that it.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then battle will be unavoidable."
Nearby, Merisa and Fribalt, receiving treatment, flinched.
Battle between Transcendents.
The impact of it would never end at the personal level.
"Of course, if Transcendents clash in earnest, the outcome aside, the damage to the surroundings, to the Empire, will be immense. So, I propose a wager."
The Grand Duke snapped his fingers lightly.
Fribalt's sword, far off, suddenly flew skyward, then planted itself in the earth.
"Whosoever first grasps that blade wins, but at that moment, no tools but aura and mana may be used. What do you say?"
"The victor's will it is."
The Grand Duke's intent was clear.
To gauge the unknown Transcendent's power, to measure the threat, and to lay the foundation of friendship before any other nation or force.
'To my liking.'
Battle with a completed Transcendent.
For Verden, who planned next to settle Dahit of Black Hour and Balrog of Bohemirn Tower in succession, it would be invaluable experience.
And, a fitting trial for the new staff.
"I accept the proposal."
"Good. Any preparation you require? If so, I will wait."
"No need. It is already complete."
Kugugugugugugugugu!!!
Suddenly, the ground quaked.
Sensing the mana and its wave, Merisa and Fribalt turned their gaze downward.
"Something is com───"
Kwaaaaaaang!
From the abyssal edge, one staff erupted into the world, with two dwarves and a one-armed man clinging to it.
"Uwaaaaah!"
"Waaaah!"
"Tsk, you're not hurt, so stop the noise."
Then the three fell.
Verden warped space.
In an instant, he erased the impact of their fall, and set Gharun's group safely upon the ground.
Then, as the staff hurtled forth, Verden instinctively stretched out his arm and seized it.
"...!"
At the same time, the Grand Duke moved.
Standing before Merisa, Fribalt, and the imperial retinue, he declared firmly.
"All, prostrate yourselves."
Without a single question, all bowed their heads.
The Grand Duke, raising his presence, spread a barrier of aura at the front.
And then.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa───!
From Verden, who held the staff, burst a wave of mana, blue tinged with gray.
That resonance shook all within sight, even the colossal airship, Autorium, trembled.
The air currents shifted.
For a moment, the sky cracked, then the fissures vanished. The yellowed sky within that range turned blue.
As if, on the eve of the upheaval, 300 years ago…
Beneath the renewed sky, Verden gazed at the new staff in his hand.
A thrill surged through his whole body.
Though he could not name it exactly, it felt as though it were part of himself.
"…What is its name?"
As with Linus, naming was the craftsman's right.
Gharun declared proudly.
"The End of Order, Interis."
From Oculus to Orient, from Orient to Interis.
On this day, Gharun's life's masterpiece, and Verden's new staff, was completed.
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