Hard Carried by My Sword-Chapter 113

Unsurprisingly, the border zone of the Kingdom of Jugend, Area 13, was one of the farthest Areas from Area 1. The smaller the number of the Area, the closer it was to the center of the Kingdom.

Excluding Area 0, which housed the royal palace and treasure vault, the only region in Jugend that could be considered a capital—despite its lack of a city structure—was Area 1.

Its name: “Iron Heart.” A place where even among the dwarves, known for their unmatched craftsmanship, only about a hundred meister-level blacksmiths gathered to forge top-tier weapons.

It was, quite literally, the core of Jugend. Its products were weapons far superior to those of any other nation, steam engines found nowhere else but Jugend, multipurpose golems active in agriculture and construction, and more. All of them had practically originated from Area 1 of Jugend.

For that reason, Area 1 was filled with top-priority facilities—classified Tier 1 and Tier 2—which were nowhere to be found in any other area. Even citizens of the kingdom were barred from most of them.

“Area 1 isn’t just far away. It’s also a place where outsiders are barely allowed to set foot. Step even one pace off the road and they’ll start yelling that you’re trespassing in a restricted zone and kick you out,” Garlond explained, eyes lowered to his feet.

“Outsiders don’t really have much reason to visit either. Most of the gear made in Area 1 is sold by reservation only. Even if you show up with a wad of cash in hand, they’ll just scoff at you. As for Jugend Steel, that’s so valuable it only gets auctioned continent-wide once a year.”

“Jugend Steel...” Leon muttered.

Garlond added, “They don’t even allow it to be bought as a collectible. You have to promise it’ll be given to an Aura master or a renowned knight of the nation before they’ll consider selling it.”

All the smiths of Jugend had once declared with one voice that a weapon’s purpose was not to rot in a display case. Somehow, Leon could relate to that sentiment.

What glory or legend could a sword claim if it never cut anything? A weapon’s honor was determined by who wielded it and what it had cut.

Leon muttered as he glanced down, prompting El-Cid to grumble that even that description wasn’t strong enough.

“The dwarves sure are a picky bunch.”

—They’re boneheads. I’m telling you.

Karen, listening in, added her own comment, “I’ve met a dwarf too. Just once, for about four days. Got hired to escort one, and it was a total nightmare.”

“Why?”

“They were a pain. Didn’t listen to a word, reeked of booze from drinking day to night.

And when something caught their attention, they’d sit there for at least a day without budging. We had to just stand there and wait. And this wasn’t in a safe zone, mind you—it was right in the middle of a monster nest...”

Apparently still bitter about the experience, Karen even ground her teeth as she recounted the incident. Leon started with a wry smile, but as the complaints kept coming, he realized “picky” didn’t quite cut it. “Bonehead” really was more fitting.

He tried to suppress a rising unease, thinking, Things aren’t going to spiral out of control here, right...?

As he asked himself, Karen’s eyes lit up as she looked down and exclaimed, “Whoa! Thunderclouds! And lightning too!”

Just as she said, they were currently flying over cumulonimbus clouds flashing with lightning, aboard a vessel floating three kilometers in the sky—an airship.

It was a mode of transportation found only in Jugend, traveling through the skies. Unlike ground routes, which were affected by terrain, sky routes only needed calm weather.

Thanks to the absence of bandits and blockades, travel was smooth and uninterrupted. The only downside was the steep price, but Leon’s party had billed the fare to the Guild using their investigator credentials.

No wonder people call Jugend a powerhouse.

Leon’s golden eyes darkened as he looked down from the sky. Though the view fascinated him, he couldn’t ignore the military potential of the airship.

Mobility wasn’t its only use. It could easily be used as a weapon. Even dropping rocks from this height would greatly increase lethality. Rain down arrows or explosives, and one might have to rewrite entire combat manuals.

El-Cid interjected, —It’s not all upsides. Weather’s a big vulnerability, and its defenses are crap. That archer we parted ways with yesterday could probably shoot clean through the hull. Same for any fourth-tier attack magic.

This thing is that fragile?

—Looks like they focused on weight reduction. The frame’s too weak—hollow metal rods, bamboo, maybe some wire, and a waterproof tarp. Sure, it wasn’t built for military use in the first place, but even reinforcing the thing wouldn’t help it withstand a full-force mage battalion.

Leon nodded in understanding. If the airship were truly as powerful as he first assumed, Jugend would’ve attempted world conquest by now. Unlike elves, who tended to remain in their territories, dwarves didn’t shy away from expansion.

Still, it was a relief they’d made it onto the ship. It only operated once every ten days, so if they’d arrived just two days later, they would’ve had to wait ten more.

“Now arriving at Area 1. Passengers disembarking, please prepare accordingly.” 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

A flat voice echoed throughout the vessel. The scattered passengers began moving toward the exit, and Leon’s party followed the crowd. Just like takeoff, landing was brief.

“Proceed,” said a guard after verifying their identities, but he didn’t forget to issue a warning. “Even as Guild investigators, Area 1 is filled with restricted facilities. I hope you leave as soon as your business is done.”

“We plan to,” Garlond assured the guard.

“Thank you.”

The brief stare down between the two lasted only a moment, and the group entered Area 1. It didn’t reek of iron the way Area 13 had, but the level of development was far greater with sky-scraping towers, forests of smokestacks billowing gray clouds, and even railroads branching out in all directions like veins.

Stepping off the airship, they were greeted not by an exotic cityscape. It was a different world entirely.

“Careful. Step off the path and they’ll be on your case.”

Just as Garlond warned, the moment they strayed even a little from the middle of the road, the guards watching them clicked their tongues. It was a whole other level of paranoia compared to Area 13.

After about ten minutes of walking, they arrived at the central information center of Area 1.

“How can I help you?” an expressionless staff member asked.

Garlond pushed forward the paperwork they’d received from the Guild and asked, “I’m looking for the blacksmith Rombart. I heard he came to Area 1 last week. I’d like to meet with him as soon as possible.”

“Blacksmith Rombart, let’s see...”

The attendant at the information desk rifled through something, then moved his eyes left and right before looking back at Garlond.

“Found him. He’s been summoned as an apprentice to the Machina Forge. While I don’t have the authority to call for him, I can tell you where the forge is located.”

“Could you give us a map?” Garlond asked.

“You won’t need one. Just head three blocks to the left from this building. You’ll see a forge with a red sign. That’s Machina Forge.”

Three blocks meant less than a ten-minute walk. After thanking the attendant, Leon’s group walked the short distance and arrived at the forge.

The red sign read “MACHINA.”

As they rapped on the firmly shut door a few times, heavy footsteps echoed from within, easily more than a hundred and twenty kilograms. Before being adventurers or mercenaries, the three of them were warriors—they could estimate the approaching person’s weight from just the sound. If it were a human, it would be someone massive. If not...

“What the hell?! Why’re you bangin’ on my door in the middle of the damn day?!”

A dwarf with a thick beard and a flushed face glared at them. He was just slightly taller than Leon’s belt. His arms, thick as logs, bulged from his sleeves. Muscles forged from hammering and working the bellows, hardened hands that could grip red-hot steel without flinching.

It was, without a doubt, a dwarf.

He looked over the three of them, then shouted irritably, “Not bad! What d’you want?!”

If they had seemed mediocre, he would’ve slammed the door in their faces, but Garlond, Karen, and Leon all exuded an air of elite strength. That was the only reason he was open to talking to them.

Garlond, who knew Rombart personally, stepped forward and stated his purpose.

“I heard Rombart is at this forge. Tell him Garlond, the one who bought his sword, has come to see him.”

“Rombart? Oh, that rookie who came in last week?”

“Yes, I believe that’s him.”

“Nope! Turn back!”

The dwarf replied without a moment’s hesitation.

“Then we’ll just wait here unti—What?”

“I said no!”

All three—Garlond, Leon, and Karen—blinked in confusion. If he was going to refuse, he could at least explain why. As they stared dumbfounded, the dwarf snorted and started to shut the door, but it stopped with a thunk.

A dagger had buried itself in the bottom of the door, stopping it halfway. There was no need to ask who threw it. Karen stepped forward, face expressionless, voice eerily calm.

“Why can’t we see Rombart?” she asked.

“You insolent—remove this dagger at once—”

“Hey.”

Karen’s eyes glowed icy blue as she got genuinely frustrated for the first time in a while.

“I asked. Why. Can’t. We. See. Him.”

“Hic.”

Even if dwarves were tougher and braver than humans, this was an aura of murderous intent they couldn’t endure. Though not yet fully completed, Karen was at the level of an Assassin Master and already a living legend of the underworld.

“R-Rombart is...”

“Yes? Rombart is?”

“H-he’s currently working on a p-project aiming for Jugend Steel...”

The dwarf didn’t explain much more. Machina Forge had recently started a challenge to craft Jugend Steel and had gathered apprentices from all over. Until the work was finished, all affiliated blacksmiths were prohibited from any outside activity.

Jugend Steel was the dream and goal of the kingdom’s dwarves. Crafting a weapon that represented the kingdom, and promising to deliver it to a worthy master—it was enough to make anyone obsessed.

Karen, of course, couldn’t care less.

“So, you’re saying, no matter what, we can’t call him out?”

As a member of the Hero’s party, she had sworn to handle the dirty work behind the scenes.

She would eliminate any obstacle in the way of the Hero. Her razor-sharp killing intent wrapped around the dwarf’s neck.

“Kh... Just kill me!”

And yet, the blacksmith didn’t take a single step back. Apparently, Jugend Steel meant that much to him. Even with an Assassin Master staring him down, he suppressed his fear. Karen actually looked annoyed, as if she hadn’t expected that response.

El-Cid suddenly chimed in, —Man, this pisses me off. A hairy meathead like him has the nerve to say that prestigious line? I was holding back, but now I’ve had enough.

What’s wrong with you? Why are you suddenly angry?

—I’ll explain later. Right now, we’ve got to do something about this bonehead, yeah?

I... I don’t like where this is going.

A chill ran down Leon’s spine. He had a bad feeling about this.

El-Cid ignored him and whispered, —Just repeat after me. If you say exactly what I tell you, even the most stubborn dwarf will move. If you don’t want to, fine—but do you have a better plan?

This isn’t going to be some wack plan, is it?

—It’s fine. Who else are you going to trust if not your own master? Just do it once, huh?

Uh...

Leon hesitated, but eventually gave in. As El-Cid said, there wasn’t exactly a better option.

“One sec, Karen.”

“Hm?”

Leon stepped between her and the dwarf, looking none too pleased. His expression said, “Do I really have to say this?”

Swallowing that question, he asked the dwarf, “Is Jugend Steel really that amazing?”

“Huh...?”

“I’m asking if it’s so great that you can’t even take a single claim while you’re working on it.”

Now that Karen had backed off, the dwarf started to regain some color in his face.

“Of course it is! Even an outsider like you must’ve heard of Jugend Steel, unless you’re some backwoods bumpkin!”

Leon deliberately put on a smug expression and repeated El-Cid’s words.

“Hm, I’m just not so sure... I mean, when Rodrick swung it once, didn’t it all shatter?”

“What?”

The dwarf’s eyes and mouth widened like saucers.

“I mean, wasn’t Jugend Steel just the name for a bunch of failed blades that Rodrick smashed to bits?”

“...”

“If a sword breaks like glass, why bother putting so much effort into it?”

Through Leon’s mouth, El-Cid unleashed a brutal tongue-lashing. The dwarf went pale, too stunned to even speak.

Even Garlond and Karen looked utterly mortified. There hadn’t been a single curse word, yet it cut like a blade.

“Come... with me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

As Leon blinked in surprise, the dwarf shouted at the group with bloodshot eyes, “I said come with me! This challenge—Machina Forge will accept it!”

“Challenge...?”

“To think, after three centuries, someone would show up to challenge Rodrick’s legacy, at our forge, no less! Don’t think for a second I’ll let that insult slide!”

“Huuuuh?”

Leon’s eyes flew open at the unexpected outburst, but before he could respond, the dwarf had already vanished inside.

Garlond and Karen exchanged confused blinks, while only El-Cid chuckled.

—What are you waiting for? Go on in.

Leon had the sinking feeling he’d been played again by the cursed sword disguised as a holy one.