Chapter 53

- I understand that this is a ruin where Surt's traces are found, but... hasn't everything that could be revealed already been revealed?

“It looks like everything has been excavated.”

He said that he left something that I could clearly recognize.

It must be because that something is the key and detector to the secret dungeon he created, which he taught me when he was training me.

The problem was that there was no trace of it, no matter how much I looked.

-Hmm... I feel a bit awkward saying this, but...

Hasn't someone already found it?

That was the question.

But I remained silent and continued to examine the ruins one by one.

Then, I climbed to a high place and narrowed my eyes as I looked down at the entire ruin.

-It's quite peaceful for a tourist attraction.

Although it's a fairly famous tourist spot, the tourism industry in this world hasn't developed much, so the number of people isn't that high.

I didn't feel any trace of the power he left behind.

The ruins stood quietly, like a mystery, showing only their own form, which made me narrow my eyes.

-It is said that the ruins of the Thousand Night Forge are mostly made of stone and special metals, which is why they have maintained their shape for thousands of years.

I didn't respond to his explanation of the knowledge he had.

Instead, I muttered as if writing something in the air.

If he was confident enough to say it, then the hidden difficulty must be insane.

And if I know him, he would have used just one method to hide it.

“Pattern 1 with 7... Pattern 23 with 11...”

-What is that?

“A code.”

I smiled slightly as I muttered.

“I found it.”

Perseurk tilted his head, seemingly puzzled by my confident voice.

Indeed, if it was hidden like this, no one other than me could find anything here.

I descended from the high place without hesitation and entered the interior of the ruins. I placed my hand on the anvil, which was integrated with the floor, at what seemed to be a workshop.

The overall shape of the ruins is Surt's hometown and his workshop during his lifetime.

The problem is that it is much larger than a typical workshop, but ultimately, most of it was a space where his hands had touched.

Now, it's just a pile of stones without any pillars or ceiling.

Still, his dungeon remains intact.

How can I be so sure?

If it's a space that can only be entered by this method, it's natural that no one could find it.

As soon as I finished assessing the surroundings, I withdrew my hand from the anvil and summoned mana.

Then, I gathered mana at my fingertips and began tapping the surface of the anvil, like Morse code.

-What did you see to figure it out?

“The entire ruin is a code. When viewed from a high place, it's made up of a few characters.”

She exhaled in realization.

The code of the ruins pointed to one thing.

There is an entrance at the central anvil.

And to enter, a specific code is required.

Are you hiding a door with such a code and saying you'll give everything to whoever finds it?

After a while of my seemingly meaningless actions, Perseurk, who had been silently watching, slightly widened his eyes at the change that was about to happen.

At the same time, a low, animal-like growl was heard, and then my body and Perseurk's body turned into light and disappeared.

The ruins, seemingly unaware that we had disappeared, returned to their quiet state.

* * *

The underground space.

Just because it's underground doesn't mean it's directly below.

-It's an underground dungeon. Isn't the entry method too cruel?

“That's why he said that if you can get in, you can take everything. I heard he left that as his last words before he died. It's almost forgotten now.”

At the time, many people must have racked their brains to claim Surt's legacy.

Result?

If it had been successful, this place wouldn't be so intact.

How deep is this underground space?

-It seems Surt put a lot of effort into it. There are magic arrays to block the underground pressure and even to supply air. The mages of the time must have had a hard time.

“Roughly how deep is it?”

-It's hard to say. Considering the actions of the Thousand Night Forge, it could be 100 to 200 meters below.

That's why it wasn't discovered for thousands of years.

The entry conditions are possible for anyone, but it's not a space that just anyone can enter.

To enter, you need the code created by Surt.

In the past, a few people knew it, but now I am the only one who knows.

When Surt was about to die, no one else knew, so if I hadn't met him, this dungeon might have remained untouched forever.

-It's more like a living space than a dungeon.

That's right.

The structure of the underground dungeon resembles a place where someone lived in seclusion.

The cave is quite spacious for one person to live in.

But it's filled with the necessary items.

Although, only a few items, which still faintly retain the scent of mana, have preserved their shape over time.

A rough anvil and a hearth with the fire long extinguished.

And the tools, research notes, and manuscripts he used during his lifetime.

In the corridors, it wasn't like this, but he was a madman who devoted his life to the craft of blacksmithing.

What more is there to say since he judged himself as such?

After completing the last sword, the divine sword Calthras, he came here after Hares' death and spent the rest of his life on one task before dying.

Although his body died above ground, everything about him until his death is contained here.

As I slowly stepped into the room, books that he had written were filled with the pages.

Notebooks containing his unique techniques that no blacksmith on the continent could replicate.

His nickname was the Thousand Night Forge.

But among the dwarves, who are a race of craftsmen, he was called something else.

The Devil's Blacksmith.

It might sound a bit exaggerated, but from their perspective, it might be the right expression.

Surt was not only exceptionally skilled at making ordinary swords but also had an incredible ability to mix mana into his creations.

Most blacksmiths take pride in making something by purely hammering metal.

But there are limits.

Surt started to manipulate mana to break those limits and eventually began to create weapons using mana.

And the result of that was the divine sword Calthras, which all blacksmiths on the continent wish to see at least once.

A great blacksmith who transcended the limits and even dominated the realm of the divine.

That's why he is called the Devil's Blacksmith.

And there are many who, even if they had to sell their souls, wanted to create weapons like his.

The first human to create a great weapon called a divine sword.

It's not a sword made by a god, but a historically great sword made by a human.

What else could be called a divine sword if not a sword with 9th-grade divine power and its own consciousness?

Humans call him the Thousand Night Forge because he hammered Calthras without rest for a thousand days, but to the dwarves, he is the blacksmith of the realm of the divine who mixed the power of mana.

A legendary blacksmith who can only be revered.

That was the human blacksmith Surt.

-It's full of Surt's traces...

Perseurk let out a short moan, as if some distant memory had surfaced.

Was it longing, or was it sadness?

As she wore an ambiguous expression, I silently pulled out a book and opened it. The scent of mana gradually dissipated, and the old pages began to appear.

It was an ancient language not used in this era.

But it was also a familiar script to me.

I silently turned the pages.

The book, which contained his life from the moment he first held a hammer, was now seen as even more important.

Silently, I reached out and re-applied the preservation magic that was dispersing, then put the book back and moved on.

-Aren't you going to take everything?

“The traces of Surt are here. I can come back if I need them later.”

It wouldn't be bad to leave a teleportation magic array here, just in case.

Silently, I examined his workshop, touching the tools, and eventually chose only the rough hammer he used in his lifetime and entered the large cave.

-This place... looks like an altar.

There were several rooms in the cave.

A library filled with bookshelves, a bedroom, a kitchen made for meals, a food storage.

And the last one was a place that resembled a massive altar.

“Really, it looks like a cultist...”

Is it an altar for a non-existent god of blacksmiths?

Silently, I entered, and a large, tightly closed safe was seen on the altar, displaying its grandeur.

It seemed more like the safe was being worshipped rather than a god.

Boom!!

At the same time, a low, almost sentient growl was heard, as if it sensed my footsteps.

-Someone is here.

The sound wasn't just heard by me.

She looked around with a highly expectant expression, while I fixed my gaze on the safe.

It was a sound similar to the low growl I felt before entering.

Should it be called a sentient presence, or a sound?

In any case, the sound was coming from inside the safe.

-I've never seen a sentient presence materialize so strongly.

There was clearly no living being.

But the sentient presence was emitting a growl as if it were a living entity.

The will contained in the low growl was simple.

Caution.

The safe seemed to be alive, but anyone with common sense could tell that the source of the sentient presence was something inside the safe.

The contents of the safe, without a doubt, were Surt's final works.

The twin swords he never completed before his death.

After all, I came here because of them.

Even though the low growl seemed to warn me not to come closer, I hesitated not at all and released the metal lock.

The sentient presence could threaten to prevent me from approaching, but it couldn't directly stop my actions.

Eventually, as if waiting for this moment, the door opened on its own, revealing the inside.

The divine sword Calthras, which Surt claimed was the best sword he ever made in his life.

But.

If these two swords had been completed, how would the description have changed?

One of the best swords?

Or the second-best sword?

It's only natural that there would be a difference in quality between a sword made out of duty and one made for enjoyment.