Wizard of the Abyss - Chapter 273

Chapter 273: The Ark (4)

TL/ED – Miso

The method I had thought of was simple.

Mallo had originally been human, but as an Artifact left behind by a god, it had wielded overwhelming power.

So then, an Artifact made using a human who had been a god from the very start would surely be incredibly powerful, wouldn’t it.

After a bit of trial and error, I succeeded in using the Authority of Creation to knead Nightchase this way and that and shape her into a sword.

As I looked over the sharp purple blade from every angle with satisfaction, Nightchase let out a sigh tinged with lament.

“Damn…”

“Now, now. Don’t talk once we’re out there.”

I gave a warning to Nightchase, who could still speak even in sword form, and stepped out of the forge with the sword in hand.

The Dwarves, who had been waiting around trading jokes, examined Nightchase, curious to see just how fine a thing I had made.

“…Hm.”

“Not bad. For a Human, that is… What material did you use?”

“That’s a secret.”

They looked at Nightchase, rather impressed, then confidently picked up the swords they themselves had made.

“Well, you can’t tell just by looking at the outside. Little one, I’m curious how far that confidence of yours will take you.”

“I’m curious too.”

In truth, the outcome was already decided.

The Dwarves confidently struck their own swords against Nightchase.

‘Ow.’

A very tiny scream rang out. Thankfully, no one but me heard it, and…

…crrrack!

“…?!”

“What in the…!”

The swords the Dwarves had made split apart wretchedly.

Nightchase, by comparison, didn’t have so much as a single scratch on her. I stepped in among the murmuring Dwarves, took Nightchase back, and spoke up.

“Oh dear, I suppose I just got lucky.”

“A-ahem. So it would seem. Goodness, I just haven’t been in good form today…”

“I knew it the moment you poured the molten iron all wrong, you idiot. A Dwarf, losing to a Human’s sword?”

“What? When did I ever!”

I gently tossed a question to the bickering Dwarves.

“So then, would it be possible for you to make a new sword?”

“…F-fine. A promise is a promise.”

The Dwarves nodded, even as they wore somewhat reluctant expressions.

There was no particular reason to refuse. They just had to forge a new sword, after all.

“Ah, of course, it’ll have to be better than the sword I just made.”

“Hmph, naturally.”

A Dwarf, his pride wounded, went into the forge with his hammer in hand.

“Be grateful for your luck and wait just three days. I’ll show you what a supreme weapon truly is.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

I gave that answer with a wide grin.

Of course, an unfortunate thing was in store for the Dwarves.

…clang!

“…?”

“Ah, shall I give you another three days?”

“…Give me just one more week.”

No matter what sword they brought…

…there would be no killing a Demi-god that had taken the form of a sword.

***

The Dwarves’ feelings shifted more drastically than I’d expected.

“Ahem. Humans’ techniques are more useful than I thought.”

That remark, which started as light acknowledgment, turned into suspicion in a mere two months.

“What on earth is this! What did you do, this is impossible! This, this is a sword you made in ten minutes? What material did you use!”

“I’ll tell you once you make a sword that lives up to the promise.”

“…”

In the end, all the Dwarves could do was forge endlessly.

It wasn’t meaningless forging. Thanks to it, Nightchase was dying off splendidly.

Dawn. Even that artificial sun sets at night, huh. I was thinking that when Nightchase poured out her complaints.

“My existence is being whittled away… by some lousy lump of metal, no less…”

“Is it that hard on you?”

“You defined me as a sword! The more my durability drops, the more my life drops with it. If killing me is your goal, then congratulations, I’ve got about a week left.”

“Hmm…”

It seemed that a tool made out of a living being couldn’t simply be mended by hammering away on the anvil.

“Just how long are you going to keep up this pointless nonsense? If you’re going to persuade them, do it quickly. Look at those guys. They’ve practically become wrecks.”

“That’s true. Still, not yet.”

Dawn or not, this was one of the reasons Nightchase could voice her opinions to me so openly.

The Dwarves seemed to have been quite shaken by the fact that they couldn’t beat a mere Human, and one whose sword had been made in just ten minutes at that, and so they were soaked in drink.

Of course, come tomorrow they would drag their splitting heads back to forging swords, and Nightchase would wail in agony.

“What in the world do you even want? I can’t figure it out.”

“To get them to the negotiating table. If I’m the one to approach first, my intentions look impure.”

I let out a small snort of laughter and slid her into the scabbard.

“Just reveal your purpose and make them choose: cooperate or die. There’s no king here, right?”

“Being a former god, you must not know much about this. A group without a leader can’t exist.”

“…What?”

Nightchase looked dubious, as if to ask what I was on about, but it was the truth.

When living things gather, they need a leader.

Even starving wild dogs, once they swell to three or more, will produce a chief within the pack and follow its commands to the death. And it’s not that the chief subjugated the whole pack by being some standout existence.

The group needed a chief.

Let alone beings that possess intelligence…

“They’ll make contact soon… And right on cue, here we go.”

I lightly tapped the hilt to signal that she should say no more, and leaned against the nearby wall.

For a little while, it seemed no one was approaching. But my Current Sense had already caught someone leaning against the opposite wall.

“Human. Are you awake?”

A lighter voice than I’d expected.

The Dwarf who had been the last to leave the forge asked quietly, as though hoping not to wake anyone at this ungodly hour of dawn.

I, too, answered in as much of a whisper as I could manage.

“Yes. I’m awake. Is something the matter?”

“Hmm…”

The Dwarf trailed off for a moment, then slowly spoke up.

“There’s something I want to ask, but… first, let’s get that one thing settled.”

“And what would that be?”

“Are you really a Human?”

“…”

“I went to Brimdal first. That one absolutely refused to say a word about you. A truly strange thing. Being caught by a Human is one matter, but trying to hide information about you, that’s another.”

“He’s a nasty villain, isn’t he. It’s not so surprising.”

“Before that, he’s a Dwarf. You probably persuaded him. But as far as I know, I’m certain no Human could ever persuade Brimdal. Naturally, doesn’t it bring to mind, what’s it called, that group that’s been stirring up the world lately?”

His meaning was clear.

The Crimson Circle. I scrunched up my face and denied it.

“You’ve guessed precisely wrong. I’m about as far removed from those folks as anyone could be.”

“Honestly, whether you’re one of them or not makes no difference to me. Just leave. I can give you as much gold as you want. And all manner of other jewels besides.”

“Hmm. A truly sweet offer, but…”

As I trailed off, the Dwarf let out a sigh and slowly came around the wall toward me.

I’d been watching with Current Sense, and there was something bizarre gripped in his hand.

An Iron Stake. Holding that lump of steel scrawled all over with strange, utterly incomprehensible letters, he gazed at me indifferently and muttered in a voice that had turned a touch colder.

“We will not get involved.”

“Could you explain that a little more?”

“It means that whether every life outside perishes, whether the world is turned upside down, whether not a single breath is left for the Outer Gods to engulf and drink the world down, we will never, ever take anyone’s side.”

I put a hand to my head.

Because this Dwarf, it seemed, understood my purpose along with the situation outside very precisely.

“Why is that?”

“Because we want neither the process nor the result.”

The Dwarf closed his eyes, the Iron Stake clenched in his grip.

“For us, forging a sword that could cleave the sky even in a child’s grip, or a crossbow that could fell a Dragon, is no difficult matter. Conversely, we’ve accepted that making such things is the Heavenly Mandate handed down to us. But not a single one of them can be let out into the world.”

“I don’t understand.”

I asked back out of genuine, pure curiosity.

“So you’re saying that by the nature of your race you do make powerful weapons, but you never actually let anyone use them? Why live that way?”

“If there were a Human who held a grudge because his family was killed by a bandit, who would that grudge go to?”

I tilted my head at the question thrown at me so abruptly and answered.

“To the bandit, I’d say.”

“Why not resent the bandit’s sword? It was the sword that killed his family, after all.”

“Because that’s just wordplay. The bandit swung the sword and killed people, so why would anyone hold a grudge against a tool?”

“And if it was the bandit who was swung by the sword?”

“…Pardon?”

“Suppose he was in truth a Human so feeble that the village’s spear-wielding farmers could have stopped him, yet because he held a weapon that could kill hundreds with nothing more than a swing, the village was destroyed.”

The Dwarf glared at me and leveled the Iron Stake.

“Who would that grudge go to? Answer me.”

“It still can’t go to the sword. It’s nothing but a tool, so…”

“Then they would come to hate those who made such a precious instrument.”

“…”

“Our very nature gathers resentment. By whatever means, whichever side we intervene on, even if we intervene equally on both sides, so long as we forge supreme arms, resentment cannot help but pile up.”

The Dwarf’s wrinkles were flecked with gray. He must have lived through long years.

Long enough, perhaps, to have lived through the very example he was now describing.

“In the morning we forge a sword, and in the evening we melt it down. That is how we live while preserving our nature. Go back. Whatever you want, all you’ll get is gold and treasure, so take it quietly and disappear.”

“Let’s set one thing straight first.”

I took a step back from the Iron Stake of unknown nature and shrugged.

“I did ask you to make a sword, but I don’t really need it. Since you’ll probably suspect me for the rest of your life if I don’t tell you the truth, let me put it plainly: I’d like to commission a job.”

“A job?”

The Dwarf, seeming to lower his guard a little, set the Iron Stake down.

“A city, a palace, a dam? Whichever job it is, I’ll have it done within three days. Only, you’ll have to enter a contract promising never to meddle with us again.”

“A city. A planned city.”

“Not difficult at all. No, then you should have said so from the start…”

As the Dwarf was about to get irritated, I added with a slight smile.

“Except, every living thing that exists on the surface has to be able to live there comfortably.”

“?”

“And you’ll have to build it within three months, yes.”

“Hmm…”

The Dwarf, who seemed to mull it over for a moment, let down his guard, though not in a good way.

It was the face of someone looking at a madman.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Let me say in advance, you don’t need to make it truly magnificent. It just has to be enough that they can stay alive.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

Before the Dwarf could reach his conclusion, I lightly turned the world over.

In a fleeting instant of less than 0.001 seconds, this world became the Deep Sea.

A few drops of water fell from the Dwarf’s beard. His expression had become the exact opposite of a moment ago, so aghast that now he himself might be taken for the madman.

“An Ou-, Outer God.”

“You know of them?”

Instead of answering, the Dwarf immediately hurled the Iron Stake.

It was no ordinary thing after all; the moment it was thrown it unfurled, and out of it burst countless weapons that no one could ever have imagined fitting inside a small Iron Stake.

Each and every one of them, as if alive and moving with a will of its own, aimed for nothing but the vital points. Had a common Human, Wizard, or Knight taken this attack, they would surely have died instantly.

…rat-tat-tat-tat-tat…

“Hsss… here’s the thing, this isn’t my own doing.”

But they all passed through my body and dropped to the floor.

Part of me wanted to take the hits head-on and put on a show of being hurt, of being beaten, but being alive with weapons buried all over my body would probably be even more terrifying to him, so there was nothing to be done about it.

“Why has an Outer God come to this place?”

Even knowing I was an Outer God, the Dwarf tried his best to keep his composure, but he couldn’t help the trembling of his legs.

I backed away from him and reassured him once more.

“As I said before, I have absolutely no intention of harming any of you. To begin with, I’m not even a complete Outer God. I’m only a half-god. And the other half is Human.”

“How can that even…”

“That’s the reality of it. And I already told you why I came, didn’t I. I need an Ark to put humankind in.”

“And why is that?”

“The opponent I have to fight is up there in the sky. And if I fight without any preparation at all, most of the living will fade away to nothing. That simply can’t be allowed to happen.”

“…You’re certainly not a properly made Outer God.”

The Dwarf wore a skeptical expression, yet conceded that I wasn’t one hundred percent an Outer God.

“To think you’d concern yourself with mere Human lives. And what will you do if we don’t listen to you? Will you slaughter us, who aren’t Human?”

“I’ll simply go back. As I said, it’s true that I’d like to ask for your help, but I have no intention whatsoever of being forceful about it. That wouldn’t produce a proper result anyway.”

“…”

After mulling it over for a while, the Dwarf soon answered in a somewhat softened tone.

“That you could do it and yet don’t must be a consideration shown to us. So from my side too, let me give you a clear answer: your request is impossible, the time is far too tight. And I haven’t the confidence to persuade the other Dwarves to take on the work.”

“Weren’t you the king?”

“As I told you, there is no king. It’s only that they lend an ear to what I say. The elderly are shown respect, that’s all.”

“In that case, if I were to resolve those two things, would you be willing to grant my request? On our end, it’s truly urgent.”

“For now, let’s hear it.”

“I’ll give you an assistant.”

I took out the cloth I’d kept in my pocket and draped it over the empty air beside me.

But the cloth, which should have sunk to the floor, came to a stop right there, as if a ghost were standing in that spot.

“What is this…?”

“A Deep Sea fish, well, a being that will hear your commands and carry them out. For now, by default, I’ve set it to chew and eat stone endlessly, melt iron with its gaze, and swallow earth and silt. If there’s anything you’d like to add, just let me know.”

“Some creature straight out of a legend. But the means alone aren’t enough. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course. But the price for persuading the Dwarves, you’ll have to see for yourself.”

I took the Dwarf’s hand and moved into the Deep Sea.

He flinched in surprise, but soon realized that only the location had changed and that he was safe, and quickly calmed down.

To him, I showed the countless islands submerged in the Deep Sea that I’d prepared in advance.

“Where is this… A foolish question. Is this the World you govern?”

“Yes.”

“Why on earth would an Outer God who rules such a… such a majestic World…”

The Dwarf, trailing off, showed interest in the purple crystals that jutted out, faint but bristling, from the outer faces of the mountains.

“What are these?”

“Fragments of organic matter left behind by the creatures of the Deep Sea. I can guarantee you this much: you’ll never have seen them anywhere outside.”

I summoned a few Lantern Anglerfish and lit up the surroundings brightly so the Dwarf could see.

Now he, too, could see the scene I was watching through Current Sense.

“This is insane…”

A magnificent spectacle unfolded.

For countless Deep Sea fish were tearing away everything that could be called ore, from the seafloor, from the shells of colossal creatures, from the vestigial organs of dead kin, and piling it, piling it, and piling it still higher.

And so a mountain of metal that had no business existing in the Deep Sea rose up. Metals every one of which bore a different color, without a single exception.

“Since I didn’t know what you’d want, I prepared all of it. I expect it’ll take you a good ten years just to figure out the properties of all these metals. That ought to be material enough to persuade the Dwarves.”

…snap.

With a flick of my fingers, we were back at the Dwarves’ base.

The Dwarf, who had been reaching out a hand as if entranced, cleared his throat and stiffened his expression once again.

“Ahem. There’s still no reason.”

“Reason, you say?”

“Even if I can persuade them, even if the thing is possible, there’s no justification for why we should do such a work. Why should we break the tradition that has kept us going all this time?”

“Well, that depends on what you choose, but…”

Once it came to this point, it was over.

Because I remembered what the Dwarf had said earlier.

“How about a weapons test, one where not a shred of resentment would ever pile up?”