After looking us over, Vorent spoke up.
"Alright then. Witch. I've got a proposal—once the Legendary inspection's done, help me with the gauntlet and knife fabrication."
"Hmm, hmm. And what's the pay, I wonder?"
"I'll sweeten the inspection fee and throw in some magic metal too. How's that? You want it, don't you? Magic metal."
"Oh my, oh my. Splendid, splendid. Then I suppose Con will accept—for the sake of my apprentice, of course."
The witch grinned with satisfaction. The word "delight" floated through my mind.
That's when Juicy turned to the witch and asked.
"Um, um, Ms. Witch, won't you do it for free? For your disciple Wof's sake?"
"Oh my, oh my, puppy-girl. You've got it backwards. Rather, for my beloved disciple young Wof, I absolutely must get my due. Listen well, listen well—a fee isn't just compensation. It carries the weight of responsibility too. The resolve not to produce half-baked work. That responsibility. The fee is the embodiment of that."
The witch patted Juicy on the head as she spoke.
Making it for free would be easy when it's for me. But the witch shouldered the responsibility of payment. By doing so, I think she was pouring in her determination to craft the pieces with absolute seriousness.
"Waf! How professional!"
"Alright then. Looks aside, the witch is the finest artisan on the continent."
"Oh my. Finest on the continent, you say?"
She's my teacher—and the one I'm proudest of. Well, supposed to be proud of.
The witch fidgeted, her three tails swishing back and forth.
Her cheeks were pink. Was she blushing?
"This is troublesome, troublesome. Getting flattered like that makes me all bashful. Now then, blacksmith—shall we begin?"
"Wait, wait. First we need to measure the boy's hand size."
Right—if they're custom-made, they'll need measurements of my hands and arms.
"If that's all, then there's no need. I know everything about young Wof—from his height and weight, to his finger size and spacing, his arm thickness and length, shoulder width, then his neck and jawline and ear size, torso measurements from his waist and hip circumference down to—"
Everyone was backing away from Con as though fleeing.
"—his hip joint, thigh thickness and length, toes, all the way to the soles of his feet! Every single part! Wait, what's wrong, everyone? Why are you all distancing yourselves from Con like that? Aha ha ha, of course I'm joking! It's a witch joke! A witch joke! The only things Con actually knows are his finger and arm length and size. That's all."
"…………"
Correction. She's neither something to be proud of nor someone I can boast about. And she's a witch. Definitely a witch.
Also, the bit about waist circumference and… those measurements is extremely concerning, but I absolutely do not want to know.
"So that's the witch… indeed it is."
Pakira was thoroughly creeped out. Same here.
"Um, um, uh, i-it's fine! Miss Samania does similar things to Brother Rel and Sister Dova!"
Juicy blurted out something utterly unhelpful in an attempt to smooth things over.
That's a full-blown Tarasun nightmare. Pakira recoiled even further. Can she still retreat from here? Apparently yes.
"That is not fine at all, not one bit, not even slightly!"
"No, no, um, um—Con was just making a witch joke, you see! It was a witch joke!"
The witch scrambled desperately to recover the favorability she'd lost.
"Um, um, so it was a joke? What a relief."
"Exactly, exactly. Just a joke."
"Um… wow. You really startled me. I figured it could be true, since it's the witch."
"Ahaha, ahaha, no no, nothing of the sort."
"……"
"……"
The only one who believed that was Juicy.
"……Alright. W-well, if you understand, that's fine. Still, this is quite the undertaking, boy."
"Y-yes, but she's not a bad person."
That's the only silver lining.
"True enough. She's wicked-natured, but she's a maiden."
"Maiden—um, Vorent, there's something I'm curious about."
"Alright. What is it? The witch being a maiden?"
"No. Not that. When you struck it with the hammer, part of the horn turned into a pale, silvery color. Does magic metal change color like that?"
"Alright. It does."
"Hey, hey, blacksmith—could you show us some magic metal?"
"Hmm. You're curious about the color, are you?"
"Um, um, I want to see too!"
"Alright. Since we're here, why not. Pakira, could you bring out a horn?"
"Mm… Juicy. I'm counting on you."
"Um, sure. Here we go."
She pulled the horns out one by one from her pouch.
Vorent took one of the horns in hand and tapped it with a small hammer.
A high-pitched ring sang out, and a portion of the gray horn transformed into a pale, luminous silver.
"First, this changed section—that's magic silver."
"Y-yes."
"Every time I see it, that deep mystical color is something else."
"Um, um, it's so beautiful. I love this color."
"I like this color too."
"Mm-hmm. Con is drawn to this color as well."
"Alright. The magic silver in this horn is high quality. Good quality means a good color. Next up is magic metal."
He struck the golden-glowing Monoceros horn with the hammer.
In an instant, a deep, resonant hum reverberated outward as a crimson-black ripple of light spread from the point of impact, and a brilliant golden radiance burst from the horn's tip.
"This is…"
"Magic metal."
"Um… that's an overwhelming brilliance…"
"It really is."
It was indeed a magnificent, awe-inspiring radiance.
The witch laughed with undisguised, anticipation-filled delight.
"My my, this is a concentrated, dense magic metal once again."
"Alright—Pakira."
"What is it?"
"…You should have about this much, I'd think. Alright. Wait just a moment."
Murmuring, Vorent disappeared toward the back.
We stood there blinking in confusion until Vorent returned.
He was gripping the handle of a sturdy-looking bronze-colored box.
From its appearance, it was clearly made of metal.
Bronze-colored with rivets hammered into its surface—a heavy, imposing design.
On each side were two keyholes. A treasure chest?
"A strongbox."
"Ah—oh, I see."
One of those portable safes. In my past-life memories, they had dials and such.
"Um, um, uh—Ennea had a strongbox like that."
Ennea. Probably one of the sisters, right?
So the marquis's daughter had a strongbox.
"Alright. This here's a strongbox."
Vorent set it on the counter and inserted two keys into the two keyholes, turning them both.
The strongbox opened to reveal a massive quantity of royal coins piled inside, clinking and shimmering.
"……"
"……"
"……"
"……"
Our eyes went blank. The witch's eyes went just as blank.
Vorent spoke.
"Alright. There's sixty million oro in there."
Huh? Sixty million…? Sixty million!?
The air went dead silent.
Pakira's cat eyes went wide, and her white tails—both long and short—bristled and flailed in every direction.
I recognized that. It's what cats do when confronted with the utterly unexpected.
Juicy's tail wagged erratically as she looked around in bewilderment.
I recognized that too. It's what my old family dog did when something completely unforeseen happened.
The witch was staring fixedly at the magic metal.
That one I didn't recognize—and of course I wouldn't. In all my past-life memories, I'd never even seen a fox before.
Come to think of it, Dagaa was awfully quiet. Even a glance showed not the slightest movement. Had the enchantment drained him that much? Well, his silence was a relief.
"Alright. Pakira. Take it."
"W-w-w-wait. Wait. Sixty million, you say…!?"
Pakira finally sprang to life.
"Um, um, uh—wouldn't you say that amount is excessive? Even I've never seen that much."
"Oh my, oh my, puppy-girl—even a marquis's daughter hasn't?"
"Um, um, it's not the kind of money just lying around the house, so no."
What kind of household is that? The Tarasun Marquis household, for crying out loud.
"Alright. Given the quality and the scope of this magic metal, this is the appropriate price."
The magic silver covered roughly half the horn from tip to base.
And the glow was deep. According to the witch, this was a highly concentrated magic metal.
Sixty million, then. She'd said it was worth more than magic silver, but that still seemed absurdly high.
Pakira looked deeply troubled, glancing at us with a pitiful expression.
"But… but… Wof. Juicy."
"Yes?"
"Um, um, what is it?"
"…Is it truly all right for me to take the entire sum…?"
"Yes, of course. A promise is a promise."
I said it just like that.
I'd frozen up in shock, but strangely, I didn't feel any desire to take any of it. The sheer incomprehensibility of the amount probably had a lot to do with it.
Besides, I had my gauntlet and knife. That was more than enough for now.
In my past-life memories, possessing more wealth than you can handle only invites misfortune. And this world was harsh—a dog-eat-dog world. Someone could kill me, or I could kill someone. That was simply how things were.
Juicy nodded as well. Nod-nod.
"Um, um, I don't need it either. Please use it, Pakira."
Pakira glanced at the strongbox filled with its mountain of royal coins, then bowed politely to both of us.
"……I thank you both. The truth is, there's something I need this kind of money for. I'd been planning to use support funds and have Lupinus borrow from her family, but with this, that's no longer necessary. Let me thank you once more. Thank you. Wof. Juicy."
Pakira bowed deeply and formally.
"Not at all—I'm glad it'll go toward something useful."
"Um, um, may I ask what it's for? I'm curious."
"Mm-hmm. Con's curious too, same as puppy-girl."
Actually, so am I. But Pakira didn't seem to mind saying. After a brief preamble, she answered.
"A base of operations. Wof, do you remember a party called 'Zan Brave'?"
"I think Bid was a member, and they disbanded, right?"
"Oh my. They were quite a capable party, but they disbanded."
"Alright. Those folks quit?"
"Mm. And so we've arranged to purchase the base they were using."
"Ah, I see."
A base of operations—so she's buying property, basically.
In that case, sixty million made perfect sense.
"Mm-hm, mm-hm. Well, that's wonderful then. Yes. That's wonderful."
"Y-yes. Then I'll accept it."
Pakira moved to take just the coins from the strongbox.
"Alright. Pakira. Take the whole thing."
"Is that really fine?"
"Alright. Here are the keys."
"…You have my gratitude."
She received both keys, closed the strongbox, locked it, and tucked it into her pouch.
Pakira was trembling ever so slightly. Her expression was tense in some indescribable way.
Her cat eyes were wide as saucers, her cat ears twitched minutely, and both white tails—long and short—were tangled together.
"Well then, well then—shall we get started right away? Blacksmith."
"Alright. You can ask the witch about the boy."
"Huh?"
"Of course, of course. Feel free to ask me anything at all."
"Ah, well—"
"Alright. That said, we're closing up shop for today. Thanks, you lot. I got my hands on the best materials I've seen in ages. My arms are itching to get to work. Boy—expect the finest piece I've ever made. Look forward to it."
"I—I will. I'm looking forward to it."
Asking the witch about me? That's a bit worrying…
"Um, um, uh—how long will it take?"
"Alright. With the witch helping, about a week."
"Only that long?"
I'd been expecting closer to a month.
"Alright. The one helping is the witch, after all."
The witch really is amazing after all. Everything else about her is terrible, though.
"Oh—I almost forgot. Vorent, the fragment of the Great Demon Blade."
"Oh, that's right."
I handed the Great Demon Blade fragment to Vorent.
The whole reason we'd come here—I'd nearly forgotten it. How careless.
So much had happened that we'd been about to head home empty-handed.
Vorent and I shared a wry smile.
And so it was settled—I would have my gauntlet and knife crafted.
I was nervous, but I couldn't wait.