"Oh? So that's what happened. No wonder things were so noisy down below."
On the way to Kelly's workshop, I was telling Amour and Branca about what had just happened.
The two of them had come down right around the time we were being chased out of the dining hall, so they hadn't seen the mess in there.
"So Namiatarou is inside the bag... alive?"
Amour was worried about Namiatarou, but that was a waste of effort. After all, ever since then, a small voice had been coming from the bag saying, "Get me outta here, it's cold! Hurry up and get me out..."
When I let Amour listen to that, she stopped worrying, saying, "Well, as long as he's okay." It seemed she could tell from Namiatarou's voice that he still had plenty of energy to spare. I agreed with her. After all, at first the ice had covered him all the way to his face. The fact that his voice was audible meant that, at the very least, the ice around his face had already melted. I hadn't confirmed it, but he might have already melted the ice off his entire body and was just putting on an act. In that case, the best punishment would be to simply ignore him—that would be the one thing that really got to him.
"Oh, here we are. Kelly, sorry to bother you."
While we'd been talking, we'd arrived in front of Kelly's workshop without even realizing it. There were a few customers inside, but the staff were handling them, so Kelly was lazily slumped over the counter.
"Hm? Oh, Tenma. What's up?"
"You look like you could use some motivation, Kelly..."
More than looking bored, the spiritless Kelly slowly raised his face toward us... though he was still slumped over the counter as usual.
Shiromaru and the others apparently didn't like how cramped the sales floor was, so they wandered into the back workshop on their own. Nobody here paid them any mind—if anything, the female dwarves in the back had started preparing snacks.
"Ah, well... lately I've been getting more and more idiotic customers, and I'm getting sick of dealing with them. I'm honestly starting to think about relocating the whole shop..."
By "idiotic customers," Kelly meant the ones who demanded things like "Give me better weapons!", "Make me an original weapon!", or "Bring me weapons with special effects!"—and when Kelly recommended a weapon suited to their actual skill level, they'd start mouthing off with things like "You've got some nerve for a woman!" and fly off the handle.
Because those sorts of customers kept piling up one after another, he'd lost all motivation.
"Even if you stock the best weapons in the world, who's going to forge something that just ends up mastering its wielder?! Seriously!"
The customers nearby nodded along to Kelly's rant. It seemed they were all regulars who used Kelly's weapons and were concerned about him being pushed around by those fools.
"Well then, I'll take this and this. And Kelly, don't let the idiots get to you."
"Yeah, yeah."
"If those idiots drive Kelly into the ground, we'll all be in trouble. We'll lend a hand however we can, so don't hesitate to ask!"
The regulars called out to Kelly as he grumbled about me, then filed out of the workshop.
The last customer to leave flipped the "Open for Business" sign hanging on the door, but not a single employee bothered to turn it back around. Instead, they locked up and started taking a break.
They were all worried about Kelly. And now that I'd shown up and become his outlet, they seemed more than happy to dump their burdens onto me.
"Rough break, Kelly... So, what caused this mess of idiots to show up?"
When I asked Kelly if he had any idea what had triggered it, his eyes sharpened with a fierce glint.
"The cause... is you! You're the cause, Tenma!"
Kelly grabbed both my lapels and started shaking me back and forth like a rag doll.
I had no idea what he was talking about and tried to calm him down, but stopping an agitated dwarf's arm strength was no easy feat. In the end, Amour and Branca had to step in before Kelly finally settled down.
"I'm sorry, Tenma... This was totally uncalled-for... But it's not wrong to say you're part of the cause."
According to Kelly, word had spread that the weapons I'd used to win the tournament, and even the ones I'd used to butcher the Earth Dragon, were all made by him. Some people who heard that had mistakenly concluded that a big part of my success was due to Kelly's weapons, and had stormed into his shop demanding he send weapons their way.
"So the bigger the fool, the more obsessed they are with gear... If you can master it, you're top-class. If you can't, you're just a clown."
"Exactly! Look, if they just want something that looks the same, fine, I'll make it. But if someone gets themselves killed because they couldn't handle the weapon I gave them, that black mark doesn't just fall on them—it falls on the guy who made it too! It's a nightmare!"
Branca's mutter set Kelly off all over again. If this were just some ordinary weapons merchant, the fallout would be manageable. But for a blacksmith like Kelly—someone who crafts weapons tailored to each individual client—it was a devastating blow.
You could argue that the ultimate responsibility lies with whoever got hurt or killed, but that's never enough to satisfy human emotion. A good portion of people will scream, "It's the weapon's fault!" And when fellow craftsmen and outsiders hear that, they just might believe it. Even if they don't outright believe it, any workshop that has even a sliver of doubt will steer clear. In other words—reputational damage.
For a large, established forge, this might not be a big deal. But for a small, one-man shop like Kelly's, it could be the death of him.
Anyone too dense to understand that isn't a real customer, so you'd have to turn them away. But keep doing that and the stress builds up. Even a tough, no-nonsense guy like Kelly could end up depressed.
"So anyway, I don't really want to do anything for a while..."
I was worried about Kelly's wild emotional swings, but at the same time I was panicking, trying to figure out what to do.
Amour's commission was to create armor based on the Bandit King's armor, but even just repairing it was beyond my skills. That was exactly why I'd wanted to borrow Kelly's expertise—but with Kelly in this state, there was nothing I could do.
"So anyway, Tenma, what brings you here?"
It was indeed a long-overdue question, but since Kelly asked about the reason for my visit, I hesitated for a moment before answering honestly. Upon hearing this...
"Hmm..."
The light returned to Kelly's eyes. Thinking this might be a good sign, I told her about the armor commission I was working on for Amour. As I spoke, Kelly's expression gradually became more animated.
The staff members, peeking from behind the door, noticed Kelly's change and made gestures as if to cheer her on.
"Now that's quite interesting... but with just these materials, the supply is... Oh! You're going to use that too?"
As I listed the planned materials for the excited Kelly, her tension skyrocketed. She began drawing designs on paper at an incredible speed.
"This is great, just great! This job is worth hundreds of times more than the recent commissions! Tenma, carry the materials to the workshop! And someone, go to the warehouse and find some suitable decorative items! If there's nothing good, go buy some!"
I had originally only intended to consult with Kelly and get her help, but somehow our roles had reversed. Well, perhaps it was better to let the professional Kelly take the lead, and since my ideas formed the basis, I could just think of it as outsourcing the work... Still, something felt a bit off.
"Alright, it's done! This is my own improved version based on Tenma's idea!"
"As expected of you, Kelly."
"Hmm."
"Ohhh!"
Just as the preparations were complete, Kelly finished her sketch right on time.
We all looked at it and let out a gasp of admiration in unison.
"The only question is whether the young lady will like it... What do you think? I believe this is the best outcome possible."
"No problem at all! Please proceed... with this!"
Pulled along by the still-excited Kelly, the equally excited Amour immediately gave her approval and bowed her head.
"Then let's get started! Hehehe... my hands are itching to begin."
The fully restored Kelly headed for the workshop, practically licking her lips in anticipation. Naturally, I followed, being dragged along by her.
"I'll have it done in just a few days, so look forward to it~"
"Hey Branca, sorry to bother you, but could you pass a message to the old man for me? Tell him 'I probably won't be able to come home for a while'..."
As Kelly dragged me along, Branca raised a hand in acknowledgment, then started negotiating with a female dwarf nearby.
Three days later, after we had cut our sleep to the bare minimum, a full set of armor for Amour sat before us. There were still adjustments to be made, so it couldn't be called truly finished, but Kelly and I had been grinning nonstop at the result. By comparison, my leather armor was also lined up there, but it didn't exactly stand out in any notable way, so it looked rather plain beside hers.
"I did it... I've outdone myself, even. This was just what I needed to blow off all the frustration I'd been bottling up... And I managed to finish Tenma's at the same time, so I've got nothing to complain about!"
"Don't call it 'at the same time' right in front of the person... I get the urge to say it, though."
I gave Kelly a retort for that, but I could hardly blame her for feeling that way. After all, this leather armor wasn't much different in shape from what I'd been using before. The previous one had been really comfortable for me, so all she'd really done was take it apart, make a pattern, and craft a duplicate.
Well, I say "just crafted," but she had incorporated new improvements all over the place, and the quality of the materials was on a completely different level, so there was no shortage of difficulty in the making. Still, for Kelly, who already knew what the finished product should look like, it must have felt a bit tedious.
The main material was Earth Dragon leather, and for the lining she had used the elastic portion of Wyvern subspecies hide—which was the biggest innovation in the entire armor. The rest was mostly just swapping out metal fittings for straps and belts. This was because using Earth Dragon and Wyvern subspecies leather was sturdier than cheap metal, and far easier to maintain and replace than rare materials like Orichalcum or Mithril.
"Well, the way I put it was pretty harsh, but it really was just like duplicating the same armor... so I couldn't help myself."
Compared to my armor, Amour's equipment was almost entirely original in design, which meant Kelly had poured way more enthusiasm into crafting it.
Even I found it more interesting than my own armor, so I couldn't really hold Kelly's attitude against her.
I wanted to let Amour know right away, but it was still far too early in the morning, so I went ahead and started adjusting my own leather armor first.
"Adjusting it isn't really necessary, since she fitted it against my body plenty of times during crafting. It's a little stiff, but it should break in with use."
So the adjustments took about ten minutes, tops. All I really did was shorten a belt and a few straps by a small amount. But even that minor tweak required an Orichalcum rain-cape to cut through—truly the mark of Earth Dragon leather.
While we waited for Amour to arrive, we finished cleaning up, took a morning bath, and ate breakfast. After that, we started writing down the modifications and improvements on paper, putting together reference materials for future use.
Just as we had wrapped up the documentation, one of the employees arrived with Amour and Branca in tow.
"Ooooooh!!!"
The moment Amour saw the armor laid out on the table, she erupted with excitement, bouncing around joyfully.
Branca held her up by the back of her collar to keep the ecstatic Amour from flying off.
"Calm down — there's still some adjusting to do, so let's have you try it on first."
Kelly took Amour from Branca's grip and led her toward the back of the shop. Several female dwarves followed behind them.
"Does it suit her?"
"Looks even better than I expected."
"Truly, a perfect fit for the young lady..."
Those were Branca's and my honest reactions when Amour came back to show us right in front of our faces.
The armor we'd crafted this time consisted of five pieces: a hooded mantle, a chest guard, a waist wrap, gauntlets, and leg bindings.
Each piece had been patterned after the Bandit King's Armor on the outer surface, so nearly every inch was covered in a tiger-stripe design. In other words, it was equipment made specifically for Amour, who happened to be a tiger beastkin.
If we were talking about tiger stripes alone, Branca could probably pull them off too — but the reason Branca said it was "perfect for the young lady" came down to the mantle.
That mantle's hood used the portion of the Bandit King's Armor from the upper jaw of the helm upward.
The Bandit King's Armor helm was shaped like a lucha libre mask, and since it was bigger than Amour's head, using it as-is would have covered her face entirely. So we stuffed the inside of the helm to make it shallower overall.
By adjusting the lower edge of the upper jaw to sit at Amour's forehead level, it no longer obstructed her vision, and the furry helm served the role of a helmet. On top of that, we made the hood detachable, so when it got in the way, she could just wear it as a normal mantle.
The lining inside each piece of equipment was made from the elastic skin of the Wyvern subspecies — far sturdier and more durable than ordinary metal armor.
The waist wrap featured a belt made from Earth Dragon leather, and the fur had been shaped into a trapezoid that covered the sides and halfway around the back of her thighs. Combined with the mantle and leg bindings, it protected nearly her entire back.
"How does it feel?"
At my words, Amour — who had been spinning around joyfully — struck a pose like a masked hero.
"I — love — it!"
She must have really taken to the gear, because even after the final adjustments were done, Amour kept every piece on.
"Oh! Tenma, this!"
Amour, who had been frolicking about, suddenly remembered something and came running over to me, pulling a pouch out of her bag.
When I checked inside, it was filled with gold coins. Counting them up, there were two hundred in total — two million gold.
"Isn't that way too much? Most of the materials were recycled from your own stock, and even if you add up the material and crafting fees I paid, I'm guessing it wouldn't come to half of this?"
Just to be sure, I asked Kelly too, and she said the going rate was roughly six hundred thousand gold — about three hundred thousand for materials (excluding what the client brought in) and three hundred thousand for the crafting fee.
"It's fine. It's a token of my gratitude. Besides, this is money I was able to earn thanks to you, Tenma."
Apparently Amour had bet on my victory in that tournament's Team Battle and made a killing. At first, she hadn't wagered that much, but she kept pouring all her winnings back in every time Orasion had a match, and before she knew it, she had a fortune on her hands.
"So I'm putting it back into circulation."
I thought she was using that expression wrong, but I didn't point it out and went to accept just the regular price.
However, Amour was stubborn about not taking back what she'd once offered, which led to a bizarre reversal where the buyer kept raising the price and the seller kept trying to lower it.
In the end, it was settled when Kelly said, "I'm happy you value my skills this highly, but a blacksmith's pride won't allow me to sell at a price that far exceeds what the work is actually worth," and Branca added, "Keep being this persistent and Tenma's going to start hating you," before delivering a knuckle rap to her head.
That said, Amour refused to let the price drop below one million gold, so I agreed to those terms.
Incidentally, Kelly's comment had a follow-up: "If the buyer's some idiot who can't tell quality from junk, I'd have no problem selling at whatever inflated price they offer." She said something along those lines.
I couldn't care less if some fool overpaid and took a loss, but apparently, ripping off a customer like Amour would cost you the trust of your fellow blacksmiths. She did say she'd give a fool one warning, though — she just wouldn't feel responsible beyond that.
I split the payment half and half with Kelly, then handed her three hundred thousand gold from my own fee.
This covered both the commission for asking Kelly to help out with Amour's request (though she'd done most of the actual work, so I was really the one assisting), and the payment for my armor.
The price included a bit of a nuisance fee, but it wasn't nearly as inflated as what Amour had offered, so Kelly accepted it without any fuss.
"Man, letting me work on something this fun and then paying me on top of it — I almost feel bad."
In high spirits, Kelly nonchalantly stuffed the payment into the safe. The transformation from just a few days ago was almost unbelievable — her skin had this strange luster to her now, giving off a unique kind of allure. However, the effect was somewhat undercut by the fact that she was sitting cross-legged and clutching an enormous mug brimming with ale.
Setting that aside, it wasn't just Kelly — the female dwarf employees at the workshop had also started drinking, so the shop entered its third consecutive day of emergency closure. Figuring we might as well join in, we poured ourselves some ale, joined the party, and were going through yet another round of toasts when an uninvited guest showed up at the shop.
Upon spotting us inside, the visitor tried to throw the door open with great force, but the door was locked, so he slammed into it head-on. While clutching his now-reddened forehead, he barked orders at his thuggish-looking bodyguard and had the door destroyed.
"You turned down my request, and now you've got the nerve—" "Huh?" "—to be all high and mighty like this..."
Overlapping the intruder's words with a menacing glare were Branca, showered with debris from the destroyed door, and Kelly, whose mood had instantly soured the moment she laid eyes on the intruder's face.
The sheer intensity of the two was enough to freeze not only the intruder but also his thug-like bodyguards in their tracks, swallowed by the force of their anger.
"The up-and-coming owner of that so-called hot new trading company can't read the 'Closed' sign posted on the door, huh... Even the neighborhood kids can read it. Unbelievable. Hey, someone go call the guards. Tell them there's a break-in in progress — that ought to get ten or so of them running over in no time."
"Before that, my fists are itching to go..."
Branca, with a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, began advancing toward the intruder.
The intruder didn't seem to recognize who was in front of him, but the overwhelming presence must have told him this was no ordinary person, because he summoned the bodyguards (Thugs B, C, D, and E) who had been waiting outside.
Branca versus a five-man thug squad... Unfortunately, no one had a chance to place a bet. The fight was over before anyone could even think of proposing one.
"Eeeeeep!"
"What a waste of breath."
The instant the thugs poured in through the entrance and piled up five deep in Branca's path, Branca launched a body check at the thug at the front and sent all five flying back outside in one go.
Despite claiming his fists were itching, Branca had finished the fight without throwing a single punch, and he looked somewhat dissatisfied about it.
But the screams the five made when they got hit and the sight of them hurtling outside as a single clump sent us into fits of laughter, and we gave Branca a thunderous round of applause.
With his bodyguards so thoroughly wiped out, the intruder stood frozen, eyes wide and mouth flapping open and shut.
"So, what do we do with this guy?"
Almost in the same breath as Branca's words, the female dwarves grabbed the weapons hanging on the wall and surrounded the intruder.
The instant he found himself encircled, the intruder snapped back to his senses and tried to shove his way past the female dwarves to escape, but got kicked away instead, tumbling to a stop in front of Kelly. Even then, the intruder tried to crawl away, only to have Kelly step on his back, pinning him in place.
"The thugs outside have all been restrained!"
The thugs Branca had sent flying were promptly bound by the female dwarves and gathered in a pile just beside the entrance.
Perhaps because of that, a crowd had already begun to form around the workshop.
"Get your foot off me! Who do you think I am?!"
The intruder being stomped on by Kelly kept shouting from his prone position, but Kelly completely ignored him. Gradually, the insults directed at Kelly grew worse, and by the end the man was making threats. Unable to tolerate the racket any longer, Amour said—
"Shut up. Be quiet."
—and with those words lightly kicked the man in the temple, whereupon he went silent like a battery dying.
I did a quick check to make sure we hadn't killed him, but it was just a mild concussion and the guy was merely unconscious, so we tied him up as-is and put him outside together with the gang of five thugs. To make sure he wouldn't wake up and start causing trouble midway, we bound his limbs as well, stuffed a gag in his mouth, and strung all five together in a chain, so escape without outside help should have been impossible.
While we kept watch over the five and drank together, a guard finally came running, and Kelly explained the situation.
Branca and I had figured dealing with the guards would be a hassle, so we'd asked Kelly in advance and hidden ourselves in the back of the workshop. The guards apparently hadn't noticed us yet.
At first, the guard listened to Kelly's account with a distinctly halfhearted air, but the instant he confirmed the identity of the bound men, he visibly panicked and started waking the intruders up.
After that, the guard began listening exclusively to the accounts of the now-awake intruders. Something smelled fishy, and sure enough—the guard cut the intruders' ropes and turned around to try to arrest Kelly instead.
"They're in cahoots!"
Both Branca and I were about to rush forward to stop the guards before Kelly got taken, but something flew past us even faster, shooting through the gap between us like a bullet.
"Amour Kick!"
"Pweh!"
The object in question was Amour.
Without slowing her momentum in the least, Amour nailed the guard with a dropkick. The guard took the full force of the Amour Kick to the face, went spinning through the air vertically, bounced off the ground several times, and rolled to a stop.
"That hit him square in the face... Do you think he's still alive?"
"No idea. But could you hit him with some healing magic? I'll go stop the young lady."
Having been beaten to the punch, Branca and I divided the tasks—she would tend to the dying guard while I went to deal with Amour, who was currently rampaging against several guards single-handedly.
Healing the guard served two purposes: interrogating him about the earlier incident, and lightening Amour's sentence as much as possible. The man may have been a thoroughly suspicious guard, but he was still an official one—essentially a security officer employed by the kingdom. Which meant Amour had officially become a criminal the moment she laid a hand on a guard.
That said, the circumstances of this incident were so riddled with irregularities on the guards' part that as long as our testimony matched that of the surrounding witnesses, it was virtually guaranteed that the relationship between those guards and the intruders would be investigated. Even if they refused, I intended to use the powerful connections I had to make sure it happened. Depending on the outcome, the severity of the charges would shift accordingly. It might not go all the way to acquittal, but a light punishment like a fine was entirely possible.
But at this point in the investigation, I was a criminal who had laid hands on a guard—and if the guard died, I'd be dragged away as a murderer. To avoid that, the guard needed to stay alive.
"Um... ah, looks like he'll be fine. There might be some lasting effects, though..."
The first guard I'd kicked was suffering from a nasal bone fracture,
orbital
floor fracture,
tibial
fracture, femoral fracture, and numerous contusions and abrasions—injuries so severe it was a miracle he was still alive. But I poured everything I had into my healing magic, bringing him back to just shy of a
full recovery
without pushing past that limit.
"Done! That's it!"
I rolled the guard I'd dragged back from death's door onto the ground and headed over to the next patient.
The other guards mostly had simple fractures, bruises, and dislocations—none of them were in mortal danger. However, I couldn't very well have them recover and come after us again, so when I treated them, I deliberately set the bones slightly off-center and forced dislocations back in roughly. Without proper follow-up treatment, they wouldn't be moving properly anytime soon.
"Ugh, ugh... blegh"
"Well, what did you expect, going on a rampage after drinking? You need to reflect on your behavior, young lady!"
The biggest reason Amour had acted the way she did seemed to be that she'd been drinking a dwarven clan's secret reserve liquor—the kind that practically sets you on fire.
And with Amour in that state, when she saw Kelly in danger right in front of her, she'd probably acted on pure instinct, launching an attack to protect the person who'd saved her.
"So, where do you think you're going?"
I slipped behind the intruder who'd been trying to sneak away in the chaos, restrained her once more, and continued piecing together what had caused this whole mess.