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Chapter 31
Three days had passed since they arrived at the Dragon’s Furnace.
Ren had been going to and from the graveyard every morning and evening, claiming it was to honor the souls of the blacksmiths.
— Why are you so late today?!
“I was late because I was admiring the sword Caleb had been working on—he finally finished it.”
— Tch. Pointless, all of it.
But in Ren’s eyes, the sword was more magnificent than any he had seen in the past three days at the Dragon’s Furnace.
Though all the blacksmiths were in awe and openly envious, only Caleb and Carter wore discontented expressions.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The loud hammering of metal echoed all around.
It was as if Caleb’s sword had ignited a fire in the other blacksmiths, who now swung their hammers with more fervor than ever.
“You’re here.”
“May I take a look at the sword?”
“I suppose.”
Caleb didn’t seem particularly attached or regretful about the sword.
Even the dissatisfied look he had shown before going down to the grave had now vanished.
— …Ren, may I borrow your body to speak for a moment?
Carter spoke with a serious tone.
Ren nodded silently.
“Caleb.”
The sudden call made Caleb glance at Ren in confusion.
“You are my disciple.”
His eyes widened at those words.
“Why can’t you let go of me?”
“...What... are you doing?”
“How long do you intend to hide that anxiety within you?”
Thud!
“I asked you—what are you doing?!”
Caleb slammed the desk with his fist and shouted.
The others nearby turned their attention toward them.
“You’re an outstanding blacksmith. You have the talent to surpass even me.”
With those words, Caleb’s eyes began to tremble.
“You are my disciple. Do you remember the day I first took you in? That day you stood in the snow, staring at the sword I had forged.”
“How do you…?”
“That day, I knew the moment I saw you—you could become the greatest blacksmith.”
A tear rolled down his cheek from eyes brimming with emotion.
“Ma…Master…?”
A long-buried memory surfaced and overlapped with Ren’s current figure.
“My body may lie below in a coffin, but I am always watching over you. Don’t be afraid, my dear disciple…”
“Hic… Master…”
Caleb fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably.
None of the members of the Dragon’s Furnace had seen him like this since Carter's death.
Carter knelt beside him and embraced him gently.
“I’ve been watching over your work this whole time. It’s been excellent.”
“Hic… Master…”
“I must’ve raised you like a child. Just because a foolish old master disappeared, you’re this shaken.”
“No… it’s because I’ve been a foolish disciple…”
The other blacksmiths had no idea what was happening.
The bond between the two was so touching that no one dared interrupt.
“Now, believe in yourself. Forge your own sword.”
“Master… I understand now. I was being foolish.”
— It’s enough. Thank you… Gravekeeper.
[「Subquest – Carter’s True Feelings」has been completed.]
— You said you came to ask Caleb for a sword. I have just the material that suits you.
Carter calmed Caleb down, then helped him to his feet.
“Forge the sword I was never able to.”
“…Understood.”
Caleb nodded.
Carter looked at him with a proud expression as he released control over Ren’s body.
Feeling intense gazes, Ren slowly looked around.
The blacksmiths and customers were staring at him and Caleb with puzzled expressions.
“Caleb, sir.”
Caleb’s eyes hardened at Ren’s abrupt tone shift.
“What are you all staring at?! The fire will go out! Get back to work—move it!”
Startled, the blacksmiths scurried back to their stations at Caleb’s sharp rebuke.
“…You, come with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
They moved to the same room Ren had visited before.
Caleb pulled a weapon off the wall and inserted it into the back wall, triggering a hidden mechanism.
A secret space was revealed.
“This place…”
It was a small space, not much compared to the main forge.
Ren thought perhaps Caleb hid his masterpieces here—but no.
Inside was only a small wooden box.
“Do you know why our forge is called the Dragon’s Furnace?”
“No, I don’t.”
“There’s a legend that a dragon who had taken human form once visited our ancestor, the founder of this forge. It brought a mysterious ore and asked him to make a sword from it.”
“Yes?”
“That ore couldn’t be melted with ordinary fire. So our ancestor asked the dragon to melt it with its breath.”
“And the dragon agreed?”
“Who knows? But according to the legend, the dragon breathed fire on the ore, and our ancestor forged the greatest sword in history. That’s how this forge got its name—Dragon’s Furnace.”
— Yes, that’s right. I’m impressed you remembered.
Carter chimed in.
“I see.”
“The dragon, pleased with the result, gave another ore to our ancestor. This is it.”
Caleb opened the wooden box.
Inside was a greenish ore radiating a cold aura.
While Caleb casually picked it up, Ren hesitated to touch it.
“What’s wrong?”
“It gives me a chilling sensation…”
“As I thought. It must feel even more unique to you.”
— Indeed, this ore contains a power like that.
“What do you mean?”
Caleb asked, puzzled by Ren’s murmuring.
“Are you… talking with your master again?”
“Yes.”
“So it really was him earlier… I wasn’t imagining it.”
“No. Sometimes spirits enter me. Everything I said to you was his will.”
“I figured. You really are a remarkable gravekeeper… What is he saying now?”
— Now that I am a spirit, I understand. This ore seems to absorb souls.
Ren relayed Carter’s words.
“A power that absorbs souls…”
“I can feel spiritual energy from it.”
From the moment he saw the Eternal Stone, Ren realized its energy resembled spiritual power.
Where had such an ore come from?
“Perhaps… this too is fate.”
Caleb muttered, gripping the Eternal Stone tightly.
“A gravekeeper who communicates with souls… and an ore imbued with soul energy—aren’t they a perfect match?”
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“What do you mean…?”
“My master said so. He asked me to forge the sword he couldn’t make himself.”
He placed the Eternal Stone into a wooden box and closed the lid.
“I’ll craft the greatest sword, one that holds the power of the Eternal Stone.”
“Thank you.”
A bright smile spread across Caleb’s face, now free of any of the worries and concerns that had burdened him before.
* * *
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of the hammer rang out in a steady and rhythmic cadence.
As soon as one entered the forge, it was clear that everyone present was silently focused on one man.
Ren walked past the crowd and spotted a middle-aged man standing before the anvil.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Though drenched in sweat, his gaze remained locked on the heated blade.
Bulging muscles, tightly pressed lips, and the steady rhythm of his breath.
For a moment, Ren could only stand there, transfixed, watching him work.
The sword, which had looked nearly complete just moments ago, was returned once more to the blazing furnace, and the hammering resumed as if it had never stopped.
When Caleb picked up the hammer, he would barely move for an entire half-day.
He barely ate or slept—only short breaks, if any.
It was as if he was determined to burn away every last spark within him before he died.
After Carter’s death, a lingering unease had stayed in his heart.
That pillar of strength—the one who always guided, corrected, and praised him—was gone. No matter how much he hammered metal, a sense of frustration and hollowness remained.
But not anymore.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Because now he knew: his master would always be by his side.
And because the master, once so strict, had truly recognized him, Caleb finally felt assured.
The impurities within the soul of Cormir’s greatest blacksmith, like soot on a forge, had completely burned away.
“Haa…”
Sweat rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the ground.
If something wasn’t right, he didn’t hesitate to throw the metal back into the furnace.
Whoosh! Fshh! Fshh!
He pumped the bellows fiercely, stoking the flames and extracting the metal.
He would not compromise until it was close to the perfect vision he had in mind.
Even if it were never completed, Caleb was content just to be wholly absorbed in the act of creation.
No anxiety, no fear, no doubt.
He had forgotten how deeply satisfying and joyful it was to lose himself in the work.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The Eternal Stone proved to be more temperamental, delicate, and difficult than expected.
From smelting to refining to forging.
The entire process of taming this proud and unruly material had been an arduous journey, even for Caleb.
But finally, it began to respond to his will.
Joy spread across Caleb’s face.
Clang!
It took shape exactly as he envisioned—like a perfectly trained beast revealing its true form.
A wave of euphoria washed over him.
He felt drunk, numb to everything.
His mind was filled with one thought: I must finish this sword as soon as possible.
“Haa… Haa…”
His eyes were bloodshot, his heart pounded wildly.
His hands trembled, and his muscles refused to respond.
With a faint groan, he came to a halt.
Staring blankly at the completed sword, he glanced out the window to see the blue light of dawn breaking.
Clap.
Ren, who had been watching all night, clapped his hands.
The remaining blacksmiths followed, showering him with applause.
Snapping back to his senses, Caleb grasped the sword’s hilt.
A long, sharp blade.
A refined and elegant guard.
And a green gem set into it.
Not overly flashy, but majestic and mysterious in its presence.
Even Ren and the surrounding blacksmiths couldn’t help but voice their admiration.
“It’s yours.”
After briefly inspecting the sword, Caleb handed it over to Ren without hesitation.
Calling it a masterpiece almost felt like an understatement.
It was more than worthy of being called a legendary blade.
“Thank you. I’ll use it well.”
Ren took the sword and wrapped his hand around the hilt.
Vmmm—
Suddenly, the green gem on the sword began to glow.
Thump.
His heart skipped a beat.
The energy within his body naturally flowed into the sword, and it felt as if it had become an extension of himself.
An unfamiliar but wondrous sensation.
He recalled the words he had once said to Caleb when they first met.
—It just doesn’t click for me. I wanted to find a sword that feels like a lifelong companion. Haha. Guess that was a silly dream, huh?
He’d thought the idea was ridiculous even as he said it.
But now...
Vmmm—
The sword vibrated in resonance with his heartbeat.
As if it was speaking to him.
As if it understood the meaning behind his gaze.
‘A lifelong companion… I can’t believe it really exists.’
Caleb approached him with a smile.
“That’s the face of a satisfied man.”
“Who wouldn’t be, seeing a sword like this?”
“This is the finest masterpiece of my life. Nothing in the past—or future—will ever surpass it.”
He smiled faintly.
“But I’m too old now. I probably won’t be able to work like this again.”
It was understandable.
Everyone who had been watching had been worried for his health from the start.
“Would you name it?”
Ren ran his left hand along the flat of the blade, deep in thought.
“A sword that calls to the soul… Yes. Let’s call it Soulcall.”
Vmmm—
The sword resonated once more.
‘So you like the name, huh?’
Ren chuckled softly.
“Soulcall… a fine name. I’ll remember i—”
Thud.
“Caleb!”
Startled, Ren caught him as he collapsed.
The other blacksmiths rushed over, alarmed.
Ren checked Caleb’s breathing and pulse, then sighed in relief.
“It seems he’s just extremely fatigued.”
“Whew… thank goodness!”
“He really pushed himself. I thought something serious had happened.”
“I’ll help him. There should be someone from the Trevis family nearby—they can get us a priest.”
Ren sheathed Soulcall in a makeshift scabbard and helped Caleb out of the forge.
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