Author Romeru
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Chapter 60: The Nameless Blacksmith
🕑 Added 2024-11-17 16:13:00 +0000 UTCA Shadow Blacksmith.
It made sense.
What better way to end the quest than to fight the thing he might one day become? Most of what Julian had learned in Artemia came from Cyrus’s words and MEGAN’s research. But if there was one thing only Julian truly understood, it was how the gods treated them like playthings.
They were probably watching right now, clearly entertained. The people from Earth were watching too. And in the end, there was no difference between the two groups. They wanted entertainment, and Julian got something in return.
The only problem was—he was absolutely no match for this shadow.
It wasn’t just because the shadow was stronger. It was because Julian’s abnormal senses—the ones that usually gave him an edge in every fight—were useless here. He couldn’t hear the shadow. He couldn’t smell it. He couldn’t feel its presence. All he could rely on was his sight, something he wasn’t used to depending on during combat. And even that wasn’t enough.
How could it be when the shadow barely had a form to be seen? Just a silhouette that seemed to shift and ripple as if it were made of smoke.
It was as though Julian was a mouse caught in a trap, waiting to die and disappear.
Still, Julian’s smile persisted. He gripped Searadyn’s Veil with his left hand, the weapon heavier than ever since his right arm had gone completely numb. His back rested against the cracked wall, the only thing keeping him upright.
“Just…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, as he slowly raised the longsword. The blade trembled slightly in his grip as he pointed it toward the shadow. His smile persisted, defiant in its quiet way. “...Let’s just get this over with.”
And once again, the shadow replied. And once again, Julian couldn’t understand it at all. The low, rhythmic clicking sounds filled the room. They hummed in the air, echoing off the roots and walls of the dungeon.
The shadow’s form wavered for a moment, its smoky edges flickering like a candle about to be snuffed out. Its head tilted to one side, its hollow eyes fixed on Julian, as if considering something.
It took a step forward.
Its steps echoed faintly, it was right in front of him… and yet Julian truly found it difficult to even recognize its presence. It felt as though it wasn’t there at all, but he knew it was, and it was approaching closer and closer to him.
“Huh…” Julian braced himself, tightening his grip on Searadyn’s Veil as best as he could with his only working arm. He wasn’t sure what the shadow was about to do, but he wasn’t going to just lie down and admit defeat.
But then, the shadow didn’t strike at all.
Instead, it crouched down again, as small as it already was. Julian didn’t even realize that the shadow was already right in front of him again. It tilted its head to the side, looking up at Julian curiously like it had done from the beginning.
And once again, it spoke to him. The low, clicking sound filled the air, but softer now. And then, without warning, the shadow plunged its hand into its chest—another potion. It held it out to Julian, shaking it slightly as if mocking him to take it.
Well, it didn’t matter if it was, Julian was going to take it.
He only inspected the potion for a moment before downing it down in one gulp. The warmth spread through his body almost instantly, the pain in his chest easing as his broken bones mended. His breath steadied, and the weakness in his limbs faded.
Very much like the last one he took, the vial was able to completely heal him in seconds. It was unlike the normal potions he had been drinking the past week whenever he got wounded during his hunts with Juliet—it almost even felt like the potion could recover a lost limb.
Hopefully, Julian wouldn’t have to test that.
“Thank you.” Julian breathed out as he gently placed the vial to the side and stood up slowly, his eyes locked on the shadow.
The shadow didn’t reply. It simply stepped back, raising its weapon slightly before gesturing for Julian to attack once more. Its unnervingly wide smile returned, stretching across its featureless face.
But Julian didn’t move.
“No,” he sighed, walking away from the wall as he did so.
The shadow froze. Its smile faded again as its clicks just stopped. It stared at Julian, taking a step forward as it held the hammer in his hand.
And yet, Julian remained still, his grip on Searadyn’s Veil tightening.
“What are we even doing?” Julian muttered, shifting his weapon into a new form, “You know you can kill me anytime you want to, I want to change our game to make it fair.”
Julian didn’t rush to attack. Instead, he took a deep breath and began shifting Searadyn’s Veil into its many different forms, letting the shadow watch as he displayed its craftsmanship.
“I’m not a warrior, and one of the only two reasons I learned to fight was to be worthy of wielding the lives I have created.”
The first transformation was smooth. The longsword in his hand caused the dim light to distort, shrinking and separating into twin rapiers. Julian adjusted his grip, twirling the right rapier into a shield.
“Do you consider them alive too, the weapons we make? Because I have always considered them to be my children.”
Julian took his time, ignoring the clicking that was growing louder from the shadow. He transitioned the rapier and shield into two smaller shields, holding them up as if he were testing their weight.
“That’s why when the Master of Shadows was taking them away, I was always… in pain. And so, the only other reason I learned how to fight was to be able to protect them, and the people I care about.”
Then, with a low hum, the shields merged into one large shield, broad and solid, its surface almost invisible to the naked eye. And finally, he returned Searadyn’s Veil to its original longsword form, holding it in one hand as he exhaled slowly.
Through all of this, Julian never looked at the shadow at all. He was just looking at Searadyn’s Veil, admiring it—holding it as if it truly was his baby.
The shadow, however, didn’t share his calm demeanor. Its silhouette began to twitch, its head tilted further and further as it stared at Searadyn’s Veil. Its reaction was unreadable, but for everyone who was seeing it, it was clearly growing more agitated.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re stronger than me,” Julian muttered as he finally turned to the shadow. “It doesn’t change the fact that I… am the better blacksmith between us.”
Julian’s words carried no malice or bravado at all. It was a simple statement, spoken with the weight of conviction. It wasn’t arrogance or showmanship—it was pride. Pride in his craft.
The shadow froze, its clicks falling silent.
Julian also paused, his grip firm on Searadyn’s Veil. And with a breath, he took a small step closer to the shadow.
“This is my latest work.” He lightly held the longsword with both hands, his fingers lightly brushing the clear blade. “You’ve seen what it can do. Every part of it, I created.”
Julian took another step, now pacing slowly as he spoke. His tone, devoid of any arrogance, “To forge it, I tamed a flame spirit—one that wanted to burn and freeze me alive.”
The shadow didn’t respond, but its body seemed to ripple faintly, its silhouette almost vibrating with suppressed energy—anger? Annoyance? It doesn’t really matter.
“The only reason it isn’t better…” Julian continued, his voice softening, “...is because it had to be less. What about you, Shadow Blacksmith? What is your latest work?”
The shadow didn’t react at first. It simply stared at Julian, its form eerily still. And then, as if processing the question, its clicks returned—low, deliberate.
Julian ignored the noise. Instead, he turned his attention back to the coffin. “This… this is beautiful. Almost perfect, even.”
The shadow tilted its head to the side, as if curious as to what Julian was about to do.
He let his hand hover over it for a moment before suddenly slashing his longsword through it in a clean, diagonal cut.
“But as I said…”
The sharp clang of metal on metal echoed in the chamber, and the coffin fell apart—its two halves sliding away from each other like silk. Julian lowered his weapon, taking a step back to examine his handiwork.
“...It is not better than mine.” He whispered, “The metal you used to make your box is clearly of better quality than the glacivyr, and yet it couldn’t even withstand an inferior material…
…simply because it is inferior.”
And when Julian turned his gaze back to the shadow, he saw it trembling, its silhouette twisting and distorting violently. Though it had no clear features, Julian could feel its anger. The clicks that had filled the room became erratic, sharper, almost like screams of frustration.
“Please relax.” Juliah sighed as he stepped to the side, “I only want to know if this metal box is the best thing you can do… or if there’s something else you are hiding inside your… chest. Maybe a [Unique Epic], like mine?”
The shadow remained still for a moment, and then, with a flick of his hand, the hammer disappeared. And without even any hesitation, it plunged its hand into its chest once again.
And when it pulled back, a new weapon emerged—a longsword.
Or at least, it would have been a longsword for Julian. In the Eldazen shadow’s smaller hands, it seemed massive, almost like a greatsword. Its edges danced faintly with the same dark energy that surrounded its body.
The shadow took a single step forward, gesturing for Julian to move aside. It was clear what it intended to do—it wanted Julian to see how easy his weapon would cut the coffin too.
“You’re doing it in that form? I suppose that’s fair,” Julian muttered, stepping to the side as the shadow approached the coffin. “You’d need the extra power to cut it as cleanly as Searadyn’s Veil did.”
“Kikh?” The shadow’s form rippled again, its body twisting even more violently as it looked at Julian. It gripped its weapon tightly, raising it high.
But then, the shadows surrounding its form began to fade.
“Hm?” Julian tilted his head to the side as he watched as the shadow began to unravel, the darkness that cloaked its figure slithered away like mist, dissipating into the air.
And what emerged beneath wasn’t the terrifying, and dark creature that Julian expected.
It was a woman.
Her skin was pale, almost translucent, and wrinkled to the point it resembled the walls of the dungeon itself. Her frail frame barely seemed capable of lifting the massive sword he carried, yet his posture was unnervingly straight. Long, white hair cascaded over her shoulders, lifeless as if it hadn’t moved in centuries. Her face bore deep lines etched with time and struggle, her eyes hollow pits that still seemed to hold a faint, unsettling glow.
But Julian wasn’t focusing on her features and appearance at all, no. All of Julian’s senses were fixed on the weapon she was holding.
A blood-red blade, its surface appearing wet and pulsating, as though it were alive, truly alive.
“It’s…” Julian whispered as he approached the Eldazen without fear or worry, “...It’s very beautiful.”
The sword radiated an aura that screamed of precision, artistry, and… agony. It was a masterpiece of its own kind, yet it felt wrong, as though forged in torment.
The Eldazen stood silently, her breathing shallow but deliberate. Despite her fragile appearance, there was an undeniable presence about her—a weight that pressed against Julian like an invisible force. But Julian didn’t care at all… and neither did the Eldazen.
She raised her weapon high, showing it to Julian.
And for the first time, Julian finally saw the shadow’s smile as it truly was.
It wasn’t ominous at all, nor was it wicked.
It was just arrogance, no. Confidence. Plain confidence.
And for the first time since she made herself known to Julian, he could finally feel her presence.
“I see you now, Shadow Blacksmith.” Julian smiled as he looked at the Eldazen with respect.
He can feel her now… and that means he could also kill her—no. That’s wrong too. Because she’s dead, she has been dead for a very long time.
And Julian will free her.
“Well…” Julian then stepped back. And instead of stepping to the side so that the shadow blacksmith could approach the coffin, he stood in front of it and shifted Searadyn’s Veil into twin rapiers—raising one horizontally toward the woman, kneeling in front of her so that the rapier would be within her reach.
“Let’s test it, then…” Julian whispered,
“...which one of us is the better blacksmith.”
[LAST CHAPTER] <-----> [NEXT CHAPTER]
AUTHOR NOTES
What do you think grandma did to end up there, though?
And also... did Julian successfully talk no jutsu his predecessor?
Comments
Maquiavelis
TFTC... A small typo on Julian's name her... "“Please relax.” Juliah sighed as he stepped to the side"
Manpapper
Thanks for the chapter
trustkillerlol
Thank you for the chapter! Very interesting :)
Rommel Sabido
Is it just me, or there's something different about patreon? Like the font style and paragraph style are different. I can't quite put my finger on it. And also, do tell me if you notice any mistakes. Been feeling under the weather lately. T_T
