NOVEL NEXT Chapter 533
Chapter 533. The Inherited
“How do you not know about this! The whole town was in an uproar!!”
Not just me, but everyone around wore expressions of disbelief, as if questioning their sanity, even Ainz was shrunk back, looking embarrassed.
“Well… I’ve been living like a total sloth—drinking, eating, shitting, and sleeping—just letting the merchants handle shopping… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen those merchants in a while, have I?”
“You… you serious?”
I felt utterly deflated.
Even though I was suffering because of Adamas, this was just too lazy…
“No wonder your wife left you.”
“Guh…!!”
Antendeixis delivered a painful blow, causing Ainz to groan and slam his face onto the table. Normally, Antendeixis would mutter to me in a voice only I could hear, but since he had manifested physically, this happened…!!
An awkward silence followed.
“… I think I understand what it is you seek from me.”
Still keeping his face down, Ainz murmured.
“—To fix Adamas. Or create a new one. That’s about it, right?”
Slowly raising his face, Ainz looked utterly pitiful, like I’ve never seen him before.
“… Yeah. Can you do it? I’d prefer to have it fixed if possible.”
When I looked him dead in the eyes with my question—
“……”
His expression twisted with frustration, and he clenched his teeth. He gazed down at the shattered Adamas on the table, gently stroking its faded blade.
“… It’s quite something, really. Even in this broken state, it’s sturdier than a shoddy sword.”
With a light ping, he flicked Adamas’s blade with his finger, then picked up a small sword that had been casually lying on the floor.
Of course, that too was forged by Ainz in pursuit of Adamas—though small, its tip was sharp, gleaming with a cold light.
Then, setting the cracked Adamas upright on the table, Ainz swung the small sword down vigorously as if trying to chop off a fish’s head.
Crack!
A light sound. Leila jumped in surprise.
But, it was nothing significant; the small sword struck Adamas, causing sparks to fly and it chipped.
“Look at this. It really was my finest work. No matter how shattered and faded it becomes, it still holds its sturdiness—what a surprise.”
Pausing his words, Ainz closed his eyes.
“And now, that very sturdiness becomes a handicap.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“To reforge this, a special hammer is needed. One that’s either a masterwork or near the best quality. Otherwise, my hammer would break instead, right from the start.”
Just like the small sword had chipped.
“And there are only a handful of those masterwork hammers in the world… I’ve lived just over two hundred years and have only heard rumors of ‘so-and-so has inherited it for generations.'”
“Is it that rare? I thought the blacksmith guild had plenty of them.”
“Idiot! Those are for combat! Not for forging!”
Ainz swiftly pulled out a small hammer from his belt. Even looking like a lazy bum, he always carried a forging hammer on him; he really is a genuine blacksmith.
“So, the combat hammer can’t be used for forging?”
“Of course not! Can a chef whip up a gourmet dish using Adamas?”
… Fair point.
“Then why doesn’t everyone just make a master hammer? Seems like having one per family would be convenient.”
“That’s a valid point. But it’s not that simple. You can only forge a masterwork once. Dwarves like us tend to want to use that limited opportunity for weapons or armor.”
Scratching his head at a rapid pace, Ainz quickly replied.
“A masterwork isn’t something you plan—’Alright, I’ll forge a masterwork on such-and-such day!’ It’s said that you ‘know when the time comes.'”
Turning the well-used hammer in his hand around.
“And what you end up forging and when you forge it isn’t known until that moment arrives. A masterwork is the culmination of a dwarf’s craft; it’s not something you can easily control or dictate.”
“I-I see…”
So it’s the byproduct of life experience and momentum…
“It’s said that men tend to forge weapons to defeat enemies while women forge armors and protective gear for their descendants. However, a masterwork carries unique strengths. It can incorporate complex safeguards and diverse powers that ordinary magical equipment cannot achieve—”
Thinking of it that way, Kusemon, who embeds super complicated functions into leathercraft, might have been truly incredible. I think I’m beginning to understand the weight of the evaluation ‘her skills match those of a holy artisan.’
“In that regard, a blacksmith hammer is… plain. Things like arrows-warding charms, magic-repelling blessings, or counter-curses aren’t needed for forging work, are they? To turn a masterwork into a forging hammer would be a waste…”
“That definitely makes sense.”
“Basically, in forging, skill is 90% of the game. You don’t need special effects on forging hammers. As long as it’s easy to swing and durable enough, that’s all that matters, normally.”
Ainz once again looked at Adamas.
“—Unless, of course, you’re trying to reforge something like this.”
Gently tapping the blade of Adamas with his work hammer, Ainz shook his head as if to say, “No good.”
“This hammer of mine is also a fine product forged by a holy artisan; it’s comparable in quality to a typical dwarven masterwork hammer. But no go. Adamas is ‘not just average.’ It requires a tool of holy artisan masterwork quality; otherwise, the hammer would break within half a day.”
So, that means…
“Fixing Adamas is impossible, right?”
“… I have to say, practically, it’s unreasonable.”
With a face that looked like he’d bitten into a sour fruit, Ainz nodded.
“Without a master hammer, there’s nothing to be done. I have no connections to anyone who might have one, and who knows how long it would take to find and borrow one? Honestly, it’s even questionable whether it would be lent to us, and even if it is, can I even use it?”
—Magical weapons and tools created by dwarves carry a spirit. If the owner isn’t worthy in skill or merit, they fade away and lose their strength.
Without a master hammer, Adamas can’t be reforged.
And I have no way to get a master hammer.
Which means Adamas—can’t be fixed.
“Right…”
Once again, the weight of that reality pressed heavily down.
Everything was my fault. I had… lost my irreplaceable partner.
It was the result of my own choices, and I had no choice but to accept it.
Yet, even as I thought that—my chest felt hollow.
“… So, if I can’t fix Adamas, it would be quicker for me to forge a new sword…”
At that moment, Ainz must have worn an expression just as pained as mine.
“Now it’s my problem. I don’t feel I can forge a sword better than Adamas!!”
Back to square one, in other words.
“From what I’ve heard, the Demon Lord is a real monster, and there’s no doubt that spear is the strongest in the world, right? Then even a fully functional Adamas might not suffice as a weapon against the Demon Lord. You didn’t break it when you fought, but what do you think would have happened had you continued to fight evenly?”
“That’s…”
I found myself at a loss for words.
From the impression I got in that battle and the vibe I felt when talking with the Demon Lord later as Zilbagias, it seemed like the Demon Lord was fighting in a mood-refreshing way during the assault on the Demon Lord castle.
In fact… He wasn’t fighting at all. It was merely a mood refresher for him.
Sure, unlike other heroes’ swords and shields, Adamas didn’t break and supported me—but what if the Demon Lord delivered a serious blow?
Could Adamas really hold up—?
“If you… if you were a normal hero!”
With a trembling voice, Ainz spoke with his head down.
“I should have said: ‘Take any sword you want from this mansion!’ That I could have said in a few years’ time, you might have been able to forge a sword better than Adamas, and ask for you to endure until then…!!”
But I’m not a normal hero.
“I’m pathetic. Adamas reigns as the ultimate masterpiece, and I don’t even know how to surpass it; I’m just wasting time—yet even that Adamas might not be enough! You went out of your way to visit me, overcoming death, and here I am, unable to respond to you!”
Rubbing at his eyes, Ainz seemed—could it be that he was crying?
That stubborn, short-tempered man.
“I’m sorry… Alex, I’m so sorry…!”
He was lamenting, trembling shoulders shaking as he wept.
“What on earth should I do… I’m so sorry…”
I could find no words to offer.
The people in the room exchanged looks.
“If both repair and reconstruction are difficult, we should promptly consider alternatives,” Orderju proposed practical ideas.
“Yeah, and we don’t have much time…” Helena murmured, looking like she wanted to say (This was a wasted effort).
While I stood paralyzed and Ainz sobbed, the surroundings began to busily think of the ‘next’ step, when—
“Guidance!! Do you ask for it!!!!”
A thunderous voice echoed.
It felt like the sound barrier was about to break.
“Guidance—do you ask for it?”
Before we knew it, a gentleman with a staff had appeared beside us.
“No, sorry. I thought it would be presumptuous to intervene, but I couldn’t hold back any longer!”
“Hey, Liliana!!” Odigos proclaimed, waving his tailcoat.
“Yes! The guidance is buzzing…!” Liliana nodded knowingly.
“That’s right! I simply must guide you!”
“A guide…? Where to?”
“That’s still unclear, but it’s not far. Answers surprisingly can be lying right at your feet.”
Bending slightly as he leaned over, Odigos peered into Ainz’s face.
“Your question of ‘what should I do’—I might be able to answer that. If you desire it.”
“… I desire! What should I do!? If it allows me to overcome this hardship and wall, I would sell my soul to the devil!! Tell me!!”
With an overwhelming expression, Ainz clung to Odigos—
“Of course.”
But Odigos suddenly tumbled over, elegantly dodging Ainz’s grip. Ainz lost his hold on Odigos’s tailcoat, sliding across the floor.
“Ugh! It hurts! The sword is sticking in me!!”
“Oh dear, oh dear.”
“I told you to clean up properly…”
“Hmm…”
While Ainz crashed into a pile of swords left on the floor and was stained with blood, Odigos got back up, intrigued.
“Quite close… Let me just adjust my position.”
Clink.
“Ummm…”
Clink.
“Oh ho ho.”
After moving around the room several times, Odigos finally settled on something.
“…Eh, me?”
Arthur pointed to himself, bewildered.
It seemed that Odigos’s guidance pointed to Arthur, who had been sitting obediently in the chair.
“You are… oh! Arthur Hilburn!”
Ainz, treated by Liliana, yelled with wide eyes in front of the hero of the human race.
“I had a question for you! My ancestor—that—”
“Ah! The esteemed Gaintz Gon Sphily, right!!”
Arthur, jabbing both forefingers at Ainz, rushed ahead.
“Indeed, he was my ancestor, a comrade of the first Arthur! And—”
“The Avalon! Is it not? ‘Gaintz’s ancestor left the humans a masterwork—not a sword or armor, but a shield’… It’s turned into a family legend!”
“Thankful for that, we have been using it for generations. Want to see it?”
“Whaat!? You have it!? Now!?”
Ainz darted back and forth between Arthur and me at high speed.
“I have it. When Arthur and I… well, when we fought…”
“Haha… I changed it into chains because I couldn’t let go even in death.”
“Oh, uh…”
“By the way, Adamas broke at that time too.”
“Cough… Cough!”
Experiencing both the joy of seeing the legendary artifact from his ancestor and the humiliation of seeing his finest creation shattered, Ainz looked like his brain might short-circuit.
I retrieved the small silver shield—Avalon—from the pile of things in the corner of the room.
“Oh… ohhhh…!!”
Ainz’s eyes sparkled as he stared with reverence.
“How magnificent…without any adornments, yet this functional beauty…what incredible resilience and deep magical power… I can sense unfathomable strength…!”
“Absolutely, it truly is a treasure.”
Orderju, the magical item enthusiast, was nodding with crossed arms.
“And this… it’s not just a shield, it possesses various powers, right?!”
“Yes, it does. First and foremost, it can mold to the wielder’s will. I used it in a chain form to bind enemies or whip them away as I cleared out minor foes. Various historical Arthurs even transformed Avalon into swords for battle.”
As Arthur visualized, Avalon morphed in my hand, shifting forms with great precision. Currently, I wield it as a shield (and obviously, since I’m not its true owner, its full use was left to Arthur).
The silver small shield twitched as if it were liquid, reshaping itself into chains, whips, and a simple sword—
“Oohhh! Awesome!! Such flexible applications…!!”
Ainz watched with excitement, observing the ancestor’s masterpiece intently.
“However, more than that, it was often emitted as magic to cast barriers. It collectively harnessed the wills of the people around me—”
It seems the Gon Sphily family hadn’t transmitted the detailed functions of Avalon down the generations, and Ainz listened in awe at Arthur’s account.
“What a… how magnificent… In contrast, I feel like I can’t face my ancestors with this pathetic state…”
Ah, he’s starting to sink again.
“…um, may I… touch it too?”
“Of course! You’re the descendant of Gaintz, and I believe the first would be delighted!”
Arthur nodded with a bright smile.
Gulping nervously, Ainz extended a trembling hand. He approached Avalon as if afraid it might fade away at even the slightest touch.
“Oh…”
Ainz sighed in relief.
Avalon continued to shine in silver.
Well, even the filthy demon races who are direct enemies of Arthur would grudgingly allow for it to be used as a shield. There’s no way the descendants of Gaintz Gon Sphily would be rejected.
Taking Avalon from me, Ainz stroked it with an enthralled expression.
“Incredible… extraordinary… direct contact reveals it, as if—”
A sudden flash!
Avalon glimmered brightly.
“As if— my ancestor, Gaintz, was there—”
It flowed.
Avalon melted.
“What?!”
No, that’s not it.
Avalon was wriggling in Ainz’s hands like a silver liquid.
“I’m not controlling it, just so you know,” Arthur shook his head in response to my gaze.
“… Haha. Even someone like me, can be recognized as a descendant…?”
Ainz’s face twisted, as if on the verge of tears.
It appeared Avalon had recognized Ainz as its temporary master.
It joyfully flickered, morphing shapes.
“Whoooaa! This is amazing! What on earth did they do to create such a thing—”
Ainz shook his head, incredulous.
“Can… can it even be… forged? I can’t even imagine—”
Eventually…
“Wait… no way…”
He lost his words.
Avalon was taking form.
It was a dazzling silver—
Practical and small—
A hammer.
“…………”
Everyone held their breath.
The guidance—there, was a clear ‘answer.’
Like magic, like a miracle.
A hammer appeared.
The master hammer had arrived.
—The inherited ‘legend’ now lay.
In the hands of a single blacksmith.