Chapter 22: Son Yohan, the Genius Craftsman
The dwarves who brought the cart unloaded the materials onto the ground.
From left to right, they were wood, stone, and ore.
"We will now test the weapon of Mr. De Jiran! It's a longsword!"
The guide dwarf brought a longsword from one of the foundries.
Then, he approached the red wood on the far left.
"Hoooooo......."
He let out a short breath, then swung the sword down.
Woosh—
The red wood was sliced smoothly. The flat surface of the cut was perfectly clean.
"Phew, what a relief."
A young dwarf who had been watching anxiously let out a sigh of relief.
He seemed to be the owner of the sword.
Anyway, the guide dwarf continued to move sideways, swinging the sword.
Swii— Thwack!
"Ah! How unfortunate!"
Upon reaching the third piece of wood, the longsword stopped with a pathetic sound.
The young dwarf smiled bitterly, but he didn't seem too upset.
"Well, that's not too bad."
"You did well for your first time, you brat. It seems like only yesterday you were afraid of the foundry's fire."
The young dwarf jokingly bickered with another dwarf who seemed to be his friend.
Immediately after, the guide dwarf continued to switch swords and cut the materials.
By the time the tenth sword was swung, a new guide dwarf took over.
The first one had exhausted his stamina.
Regardless, the judging continued.
Woosh— Grriiiind!
"Ah! It stopped there!"
A grey-colored sword stopped after cutting most of the way through the sixth stone.
It was the sixty-second sword.
The participants' jaws dropped as they looked for the owner of the sword.
They found him quickly.
"Tsk, that sixth one is still tough."
A dwarf who looked seasoned with age clicked his tongue.
It was a familiar face. Dickinson.
An intermediate-grade refiner. Impressive. To create all that cutting power without even being a spirit trace.
The sixth stone looked incredibly hard at a glance.
If Son Yohan hadn't made a low-grade spirit trace, he would have never been able to cut that stone.
I wonder how far a low-grade offensive spirit trace can cut.
Son Yohan watched the judging continue with a faint sense of anticipation.
Finally, it was the bearded dwarf Dracula's turn.
"......This is the weapon of Mr. De Cola! Now! Let the judging begin!"
The guide dwarf was visibly nervous as he delivered the blow.
Woosh— Woosh— Woosh— Woosh— Woosh—
The first, second, third, fourth, and fifth.
De Cola's longsword cut through the materials effortlessly.
"Ooooh! As expected of Mr. De Cola!"
"Amazing!"
De Cola's followers cheered enthusiastically.
De Cola waved his hand dismissively.
He seemed nonchalant, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
"The sixth! I'll give it a try!"
The guide dwarf's shoulders blurred.
Son Yohan watched him and let out a small, sarcastic smile.
He's putting a lot of power into it.
He was nervous because of De Cola's reputation.
Shiiii—Crunch!
"Oh! All the way through the sixth!"
It was a bit of a struggle, but De Cola's sword managed to cut through the stone completely.
The guide dwarf wiped his sweat and moved to the side.
At that moment, De Cola spoke.
"Stop there. That should be enough."
"......Ah, understood!"
The guide dwarf put the sword aside with a hesitant expression.
Suddenly, De Cola looked at Son Yohan.
"......?"
Son Yohan raised an eyebrow as if to say, "What are you looking at?"
De Cola raised one corner of his mouth.
He moved his lips with the words: 'I look forward to seeing your metallurgy.'
"Hah."
Son Yohan began to feel a strange sense of respect for De Cola.
To remain defiant like this after the humiliation he suffered yesterday—he was truly a strong-willed dwarf.
The old man still has a lot of fight in him.
He remembered the village chief's words. His personality is terrible, but the old man is skilled.
After that, the judging continued.
Finally, it was Son Yohan's turn.
"Next! The weapon from Mr. Yohan of the Steel Anvil Village! It's in the shape of a machete!"
Perhaps because many impressive weapons had already been shown, the participants' eyes were indifferent.
They had never even heard the name 'Yohan' before.
The relatively older participants began to critique Son Yohan's machete.
"It looks like a young dwarf made it. The joints are rough."
"He must have been short on time. Still, he might get a good result in the next competition."
Their words made sense.
In truth, Son Yohan's metallurgy skills were not that exceptional.
However.
"W-wait a minute... is that...."
"Impossible. He made something like this in just 12 hours? Didn't he make it beforehand?"
"Hahahaha....... An unbelievable young man has appeared in the competition. To show something like this in the preliminaries."
The dwarves who were refiners vaguely felt it.
That machete was by no means an ordinary weapon.
It was clearly a sword with a strange ability!
"We'll start with the first!"
The guide dwarf swung the machete powerfully.
Woosh—
"......Hmm?"
The first piece of wood was cut easily.
The guide dwarf looked at his hands.
What? I didn't feel any resistance at all.
Was I imagining it? The guide dwarf tilted his head and aimed for the second piece of wood.
Woosh—
"......."
The guide dwarf's expression became more serious.
It wasn't my imagination.......
The guide dwarf swung the machete with a look of disbelief.
Woosh— Woosh— Woosh—
The judging continued.
A steady sound. With each successive cut, the expressions of the participants changed moment by moment.
"......Huh? What's wrong with that thing."
"One, two, three, four, five......?"
"W-wait a minute. He's already at the sixth! Who in the hell made that thing!"
They had eyes; they could see it.
The machete was cutting through wood and stone with extreme ease.
It was on a completely different level from the previous weapons.
"......I-I'll start the sixth."
Gulp. The guide dwarf swallowed hard.
A moment later, a blurry cut slashed through the air.
Shiiiiink—
A cleanly cut stone.
The speed of the blade had slowed down noticeably.
However, the surface of the cut was much smoother than the one left by De Cola's sword.
"......Ooooooh!"
"W-what in the! Yohan? Who is Yohan?!"
The cave was plunged into a feverish heat.
Interest swirled in the eyes of the participants.
"......The s-seventh. Mr. Yohan. Would you like to continue?"
Son Yohan and the guide dwarf's eyes met.
Thanks to that, the participants were able to see who the owner of the sword was.
"He's so young!"
"Twenty? He looks like he's in his twenties!"
All eyes were immediately focused on him.
Son Yohan stroked his chin.
"Please continue until I tell you to stop."
"U-understood."
The guide dwarf wiped his palms on his pants.
A damp sensation spread across his thighs.
"Hnngh!"
Shiiiiiink—
"It cut! It cut through!"
"D-don't tell me the eighth too?"
The guide dwarf's neck turned with a creaking sound.
The participants held their breath without realizing.
Their eyes were glued to the machete, unable to look away.
The guide dwarf rested for a moment, then swung the machete with all his might.
Shiiiiiink—
"Hah, hah, haaaah......."
"Waaaaaaaaah!"
"If he had less strength, it wouldn't have cut!"
The guide dwarf looked at Son Yohan.
It was as if he was asking if he should continue.
Son Yohan nodded and looked to the side.
"I-impossible......."
De Cola was muttering with an expression of utter disbelief.
As if sensing the gaze, De Cola's eyes met Son Yohan's.
Son Yohan said:
"I'll look forward to the finals."
"...!"
De Cola's eyes widened.
"What a shame, son. To think it stopped at the ninth."
"12 hours was a little short. I'm satisfied."
Ope and Son Yohan spoke calmly as they returned to their inn.
The finalists had been decided. The guide dwarf explained it then and there.
"Congratulations, Dad. You made it to the finals."
"It's thanks to you. The experience of competing in refining and metallurgy was very helpful."
"No, it was all your skill, Dad."
Both father and son had advanced to the finals.
The organizers did not announce the official ranking.
However, every participant there knew.
That Son Yohan was overwhelmingly in first place.
At that moment.
"Hey, young friend over there."
An elderly voice reached Son Yohan's ears.
Son Yohan and Ope instinctively turned around.
Standing there was a dwarf radiating the aura of an intermediate-grade refiner.
It was Dickinson, the blacksmith of the Ice Anvil Village.
"Are you talking to me?"
"Yes, you. Are you busy by any chance?"
Son Yohan looked at Ope. Ope just shrugged.
It was a silent gesture telling him to decide for himself.
"I'm not busy."
"Excellent. Would you mind having a cup of tea in a quiet place? I have something to discuss."
Son Yohan stroked his chin.
Something to discuss.......
"Alright."
He had nothing else to do, and there was no harm in getting to know an intermediate-grade refiner.
He had seen the man's grey sword earlier; seeing it cut almost all the way through the stage-six material proved he was skilled.
Son Yohan gave his father a polite bow and then approached Dickinson.
"Let's go to my room."
"Understood. But, can you at least give me a hint as to what it's about?"
"Hmm......."
Dickinson looked around quickly.
He hesitated for a moment, then spoke:
"Give me your hand."
"Hmm? Alright."
Son Yohan obediently held out his hand.
Immediately, Dickinson used his finger to write on Son Yohan's palm.
Perhaps due to his excellent dexterity, the words were very easy to read.
A method for making traces?
Son Yohan's eyes lit up with interest.
Son Yohan lowered his voice and said:
"......Alright. This is definitely not something to discuss out here."
"Thank you for understanding."
Son Yohan and Dickinson walked in silence for a while.
After some time, Son Yohan found himself in front of a building that resembled his own inn.
A young dwarf was hanging around in front of the building.
"Grandpa Dickinson! Who's that boy behind you? He doesn't look like he's from our village."
"None of your business, you brat. Did you fail the preliminaries?"
"Haha, of course I failed."
"I thought so."
Dickinson chuckled—and led Son Yohan away.
The young dwarf didn't particularly try to stop them.
He had only spoken out of boredom.
Click—
Son Yohan entered a small room.
"Have a seat."
"Yes."
As Son Yohan sat down, Dickinson took out a leather pouch.
Son Yohan's eyes narrowed.
"A storage bag?"
"So you know what this is."
Dickinson nodded and put his hand into the pouch.
In an instant, he had poured a green liquid into two teacups.
Taking a sip of the green tea, Son Yohan spoke:
"Where did you get the storage bag?"
"I bought it from a guard. It's very useful. A bit expensive, though."
Storage bags were sometimes found in mines, so it seems he had bought one.
Son Yohan wondered how much he had paid exactly.
But that wasn't what was important right now.
Dickinson leaned forward and began to speak:
"You reacted to the word spirit trace. You must know what it is, then?"
"Yes. When you do blacksmithing, sometimes a strange item is produced. Isn't that what it refers to?"
Dickinson nodded.
"Exactly. But where did you hear the term spirit trace? The majority would know it as a refining tool."
The dwarves called spirit traces refining tools.
This was the first time Son Yohan had met a dwarf who knew the term "spirit trace."
"I learned of it by chance."
Son Yohan spoke vaguely on purpose.
Dickinson stroked his chin.
"By chance? Hmm, did you perhaps learn of it during a guard mission?"
Son Yohan just smiled silently.
He changed the subject.
"It seems you already knew I was a guard?"
"I didn't know for long. After seeing your work earlier, I asked around. I can't just bring a dwarf I've never seen before into my room, after all."
"I understand."
Even Son Yohan himself wouldn't want to drag a complete stranger into his room.
Anyway.
"So, what was your purpose in calling me here?"
Dickinson's mouth opened slightly.
"Ah, this old man has been rambling. Please understand. We all become like this when we get older."
"Yes."
Dickinson cleared his throat a few times, then said with a mumble:
"Do you, by any chance, have a method for making spirit traces?"
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