Side: Welf Crozzo
"Damn it, damn it, damn it... What the hell is that supposed to mean?! What the hell was he babbling about when he doesn't know anything?!"
I was too angry to bear it. What was so wrong with saying I hated this damned blood that I had to hear something like that?!
I had it hard too. Did he know how terrifying it was when my family—the people who taught me everything, from how to hold a hammer to how to strike iron—changed in an instant the moment my Crozzo blood awakened? They became parrots who did nothing but cry out for the glory of the past and demand that I forge magic swords.
That was when I decided it. Magic swords were nothing but cursed things that corrupted the smith who made them. I would reach the supreme realm called a blacksmith's dream without relying on such filthy power. I would challenge that pinnacle with nothing but my own talent!
What the hell was wrong with that?!
...The truth was, I knew all too well. There had not been a single thing he said that was wrong. Just as he had said, ever since this blood awakened, I had never once thought about the problems he pointed out.
I had no time because I was running from my grandfather and family. I had no time because I had to swing a hammer to earn money here. I had no time because I had to survive without being discovered. If I wanted excuses, I could find any number of reasons.
But deep in my heart, the thing called a blacksmith's pride was shouting that he was right, that what I had been doing was nothing more than a child's tantrum.
The blacksmith in me said that his words were simply right, that I should set my thoughts straight as soon as possible and make use of this power in my blood, whatever it was.
But... the me who ran from his family, the me whose own talent had been buried beneath his talent for magic swords... and the me who only wanted to be acknowledged, all screamed that no, that there was nothing wrong with wanting to reach the end without relying on this kind of power.
I just... I just didn't know. I didn't know what was right and what was wrong.
"Someone... answer me. What... am I supposed to do...?"
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Welf, are you an adult?"
"...?"
At the sudden voice, I raised my head. Lady Hephaestus, who had brought me here, was looking at me as she asked.
"I'll ask you again. Are you an adult?"
"N-no?"
"That's right. You are still a child. Of course, from the eyes of us [Deus Dea], there is no Lower Worlder who is not a child... but by Human standards, you are certainly not an adult at eleven years old."
"Why... are you asking that?"
"Smith said something as he left earlier. He called it a child's tantrum... Honestly, that boy should watch his language when a goddess is standing right in front of him. The way he talks, really...
Anyway, what is so wrong with a child throwing a tantrum?"
"...What?"
"You are still a child, Welf.
Both as a blacksmith and as a Human, there is still much you have not learned. This is the time in your life when you must go through all sorts of trial and error. There are many things you do not know, and many things that confuse you.
As Smith said, possessing the greatest talent yet casting it aside to pursue the same goal as everyone else might look like deception. Or to you, it might be a conviction to cast off the talent you hate most and move forward.
You may not have realized that while you could not abandon the Crozzo name because of your attachment to your family, others might see it as showing off.
By making all sorts of mistakes and going through trial and error, you will eventually become an adult. But you are still a child.
I do not know what decision you will make.
Perhaps you will accept what Smith angrily told you and move forward.
Or perhaps you will stubbornly uphold your own conviction and rise above it.
Well... it is not what I hope for, but if it truly becomes too difficult, putting down your hammer and walking away from iron and flame is also one option.
This is the time in your life when you must learn many things and make countless choices.
It may seem unfair that such a crossroads of choices has come upon you so soon, while you are still young... but what can you do? This, too, is the guidance of the three goddesses of fate.
But remember this, at least.
No matter what you choose, you will eventually regret it. So if you are going to regret it anyway, choose the path your heart desires most."
"The path... my heart desires most..."
"Yes. Think on it. I should go find Smith."
"Yes..."
The path... my heart desired...
Side: Hephaestus
Honestly, Smith... I understand him, but how could he speak like that to a child who was still so young...?
Of course, that child had not learned much yet and did say things that would make anyone angry, but there was no need to go that far.
Hmm... Could he be here...?
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
Clang
The forge she had gone to had been cold, its fire extinguished, even when she passed by it yesterday. But today, it was blazing hot, radiating sweltering heat in every direction.
At the center of that heat was Smith, hammering iron in ordinary clothes after taking off all his armor for the first time in a while.
He was not striking the iron in his usual state of selfless absorption. Rather, he was more consumed by himself than at any other time.
Probably... anger. From Smith's perspective, it must have sounded like a green child was insulting a blacksmith's pride, so she could understand why he was angry.
Hmm... If I approached him now, he looked like he might swing that hammer at me, goddess or not. Should I wait until he tempers it? Judging by its size, it seems to be a shortsword. And at the speed he is hammering, he should finish soon enough.
After waiting for about an hour, just as she had expected, he had finished shaping the blade and even completed the tempering.
"Hey, Smith."
"...You're here. I kept you waiting."
"You must have been very angry."
"...I've calmed down somewhat now. It was just the tantrum of a child who still knows nothing."
"Then even if that child does not change his mind..."
"Absolutely not."
"...I thought so."
"Not just me—if you brought anyone in the Familia to hear the same thing, they would have reacted as I did. What that brat said was that immature."
"He is still a child. Both as a Human and as a blacksmith, there is much he has not learned and needs to learn."
"It ended at this much because he is still a child. If a fully grown adult had said something like that..."
"If they had...?"
"...It would have been a long time since Ghal Maraz, Skull-Splitter last tasted blood."
"..."
"..."
"...So, what are you making?"
"Isn't that an awfully obvious change of subject? Well... this is the first time in my life that I've put this much emotion into something while making it... It feels like I poured every bit of anger I was holding into this one."
"What were you trying to make?"
"The sword wielded by a warrior who symbolizes the sin of wrath."
"I can look forward to it, right?"
"Of course. I'm Smith. Don't you trust [Keeper of Illusions]?"
"Come to the hotel once you have finished it. We will probably stay at the hotel for at least three days while keeping Welf with us."
"Yes. I will see you within three days."
"So, what did you say the sword's name was?"
Smith briefly looked down at the blade with its five holes, then looked toward the goddess who was about to leave and answered.
"Lostvayne—meaning that wrath is more futile and empty than anything else."