Chapter 2: Escape
"Hiiik…!"
Clatter.
A glowing dagger fell at my feet.
Startled by the noise, I reflexively threw my arms up to shield my face.
But to my embarrassment, no threat came.
"A-are you… giving this to me?"
I peeked out from behind my hands.
Heat haze shimmered upward as the Master of the Forge nodded.
Reaching down slowly, I picked up the dagger.
Its blade glowed red, stained by the furnace light.
=====
[Unnamed Dagger]
Rarity: ???
Type: Dagger
Status: Incomplete
[For the very first time in his existence, the Master of the Forge crafted a weapon with a purpose. Though its creator deemed it a failure and left it unnamed, a faint yearning lingers within the blade.]
Attack Power: +121
Attack Speed: +10%
[Applied Options]
Ignore Defense: Ignores all of the target's defenses and inflicts damage.
Blade of Yearning: When the user experiences 'Solitude', the blade resonates and dramatically boosts its sharpness.
Warm Embrace: Grants the user complete immunity to cold-based status effects (Freeze, Chill, etc.).
=====
The instant I touched the dagger, a status window shot up, overflowing with detail.
"Gasp…"
In my short career, I had only ever used E-rank and D-rank equipment.
Even so, I could tell instinctively.
The attack power and attack speed were well above average.
On top of that, every single option attached to it was overwhelming.
Though its rank was unlisted, its performance far surpassed the weapons I had browsed daily on the auction house.
"Y-you're really giving this to me…?"
I could communicate with the lava creature that had created the dagger.
After all, it kept nodding in response to my questions.
My eyes darted back and forth between the lava and the dagger in my hand.
If I went outside and sold this at the auction house…
I could get hundreds of millions, maybe billions.
"Uwaaah…"
An excited gasp escaped my lips—filled not with fear, but pure thrill.
Meeting my gaze, the humanoid lava crossed its arms and nodded.
From the very beginning, it hadn't shown a single shred of hostility.
If anything, I was the one indebted to it.
"U-um, my name is Daon Lee."
Even so, all I could do was introduce myself.
The moment I lowered my head in embarrassment, the lava swirled.
「Yeah.」
A voice spoke for the first time.
It was less of a voice and more of a deep reverberation.
Simultaneously, a system notification popped up before my eyes.
=====
[Escape the Forge of the End]
1. Befriend the Master of the Forge (or survive).
2. Somehow receive a 'Named Weapon'.
3. Crossroads of Choice…
Time remaining: 15823067 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.
Time elapsed: 00 hours, 00 minutes, 01 seconds.
=====
Goosebumps broke out across my skin.
* * *
Daon Lee, Daon.
I liked the name.
If I had to give it my own meaning… wouldn't it be something like 'gentle warmth'?
The girl, who had been staring blankly into space, turned her gaze back to me.
"U-um, by any chance, what is your name…?"
Her question caught me completely off guard.
My name…
「I don't know.」
No matter how long I pondered, I couldn't remember.
Too much time had passed.
"A-ah, I see…"
Daon seemed to contemplate something for a moment.
Then, as if she had reached a decision, she looked back into my eyes.
"Then, um… may I call you Lord Lava?"
「…Do as you wish.」
Until now, a name had been entirely useless to me.
I had no one to call me by name, and no reason to carry one.
But I wasn't alone anymore, so having a name to go by would probably make things easier.
If Daon had ended up here for the exact same reason I did…
「Ahem.」
Then it seemed we would be together for a very, very long time.
I waited for her next words, feeling my heart beat for the first time in a long while.
Of course, without a heart to speak of, it was nothing more than a feeling.
Even so, the throbbing sensation of anticipation wasn't bad at all.
* * *
More time passed.
Daon rummaged through my discarded gear for a long while.
Her expression grew heavier with disappointment as she inspected each piece.
「What are you looking for?」
"Um… Lord Lava, are there any named weapons here by any chance?"
「There aren't any. How did you know they didn't have names?」
At my question, she let out a small "Ah" before explaining the status window visible to her.
From what she said, it seemed the performance of the gear I made was displayed right alongside a brief description.
It wasn't that surprising.
After all, being dragged to this bizarre forge after dying was already the strangest thing of all.
「Why do you need a named one, though?」
"Well… I was told that if I receive a named weapon, I can get out of here."
At Daon's hesitant words, my eyes snapped open.
"I can get out."
It was a sliver of hope I had abandoned long ago.
My body trembled slightly.
My heart was completely consumed by an anticipation akin to excitement.
「Can… can I leave with you?」
"…Probably?"
The girl answered after hesitating for a long moment.
I had a feeling I knew what that hesitation meant.
「…I see.」
Still, her words kept echoing in my ears.
A named weapon.
I had crafted countless pieces of gear, but I had never given a single one a name.
After all, I could never bring myself to care for a piece of gear I wasn't satisfied with.
「A name…」
I raised my head, muttering to myself.
Daon lowered her eyes, her lips fidgeting hesitantly.
She really can't tell a lie.
I didn't dislike her for it, though.
I closed my eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them again.
To be precise, I only felt as if I did—since I had no eyes to speak of.
「I'll make one for you.」
"R-really…?"
Without bothering to answer her question, I stood before the furnace once again.
The crimson lava warming the forge blazed hotter, answering to my will.
* * *
「Not good enough!」
Clang.
I threw another failure to the floor.
The lump of iron and the hilt shattered at the impact.
My insides boiled over—quite literally.
The pile of iron scraps on the floor melted away in an instant, only to merge back into a single piece and solidify.
"I-I'm fine with anything…"
「Absolutely not!」
At Daon's words, I bit my molten lips.
She had been standing behind me all day long, fists clenched in unwavering support.
Out of all the weapons I had forged, not one had ever been worthy of a name.
Naturally, the very first one had to be a masterpiece.
「Phew…」
Taking a deep breath, I walked back toward the furnace.
"Why aren't you satisfied with them…?"
There were countless reasons I could offer.
They lacked aesthetic beauty.
The blades weren't perfectly sharp.
And above all, I couldn't imagine her swinging any of these swords.
What was the single missing piece that tied all of this together?
「Haaaah…」
I thought back to the true purpose of the weapon I was trying to forge.
A custom weapon.
A weapon made exclusively for someone—for Daon.
「Come over here for a second.」
"Huh? Yes."
I carefully observed her as she stood hesitantly before me.
Calloused palms, a round face, short bobbed hair.
An ordinary appearance that sparked no inspiration.
「Tell me about yourself.」
"About me? There's nothing special, but what would you like to hear…?"
「Anything is fine. From your past to how you ended up here.」
Daon racked her brain for a moment before continuing.
The story began with her childhood.
A warm, loving family.
A humble home where they lacked for nothing.
Stories of an ordinary life that felt as if it would last forever.
"…It was during middle school."
I silently listened to her voice, which had turned abruptly somber.
The emergence of the First Tower, and her parents caught in its wake.
The life insurance payout.
And the lonely days that followed—left to survive on her own after her parents vanished without even a trace of their remains.
"Then, by luck, I experienced an Awakening…"
Gear bought with loans, her first climb, encountering a Troll on the 4th floor, and betrayal.
The fall.
The forge.
In terms of time spent talking, it was long, yet far too short to sum up a lifetime.
Daon finished speaking in a tranquil voice and offered a soft smile.
"That's everything. Was it helpful?"
「A little.」
A rough picture was finally taking shape.
What came to my mind was blood.
Lost kin, and deep resentment toward the world.
But a fleeting image alone wasn't enough.
What mattered most was the presence of the one who would wield the weapon.
I immediately raised my arm and pointed to the graveyard of failures.
「Next, grab anything over there and swing it however you like.」
Nodding at my words, Daon gripped the dagger I had gifted her in a reverse hold.
In this forge, a lifetime without water caused no thirst, and eons at the anvil brought no fatigue.
Whoosh, whoosh.
The sound of her dagger slicing through the air continued without pause.
For a long time.
A long, long time.
* * *
I briefly regained consciousness.
…What was I doing?
Ah, I was swinging the dagger.
That's right.
Wait, how long have I been doing this?
A few hours? A few days? A few years?
Clearing my thoughts, I simply swung the blade.
Whenever I met Lord Lava's gaze, I somehow felt compelled to keep going.
「Mmm.」
In the forge where only the sound of a blade slicing the wind could be heard, a now-unfamiliar sound echoed.
Sizzle.
It was the sound of footsteps.
The sound of lava squelching and melting the iron scraps piled on the floor.
"…"
I tried to say something, but after going unused for so long, my vocal cords could only manage a hollow gasp.
As if I'd forgotten how to speak, I could only part my dry, cracked lips in silence.
「I think I get it now.」
A quiet voice echoed from near the furnace.
As I swung my arm out of habit, my eyes remained fixed on his movements.
Every failure piled on the floor flew into the air following his gesture, tangling with one another as they headed toward the furnace.
Crimson lava churned violently as his fluid body parted, but he remained unfazed and silently plunged his hand deep into the furnace.
When his hand finally pulled back, that entire graveyard of failures had been compressed into a single, dazzlingly radiant handful of molten iron.
My vision turned white from the brilliant light bursting forth.
「Good.」
He gripped the sloshing molten iron in his hands with all his strength and began kneading it.
The searing heat was palpable even from a distance, melting the iron chains dangling from the ceiling.
The moment the kneaded metal cooled into a rough silhouette, he casually picked up the hammer resting on the anvil.
Clang—!
A single hammer strike sent light erupting from everything within sight.
Wild sparks burst in every direction, dancing in a dizzying flurry.
With every echo of the hammer—sounding like both a cry of agony and a hymn of joy—the molten steel shifted and transformed.
It began taking on the defined edge of a blade.
Bit by bit, ever so slowly.
Forged from the melted remains of every failure, that handful of pure essence soon became a long, formidable blade.
Finally, as he plunged the blade into the quenching bath, a deafening hiss erupted, loud enough to shatter the forge itself.
Emerging slowly through the dense veil of steam, the burning blacksmith raised his hand.
「It's yours.」
Resting atop his burning palm was a curved sword with a sleek, graceful outline.
A crimson curve that looked as though it were made from frozen blood.
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