TBAGM Vol. 2 Chapter 2 Part 3

While Ellis was being promoted to A-rank, an unprecedented scene was about to unfold at another venue.

“Now then, we’ll begin the practical exam.”

This was the Blacksmiths’ Guild advancement exam. D-rank smiths were facing their final test to reach C-rank.

(I’ve gotta give it everything!)

Nick had posted the lowest possible score on the written exam. If he didn’t make up for it here, he wouldn’t advance.

(I’m going home a C-rank no matter what.)

He had already given up on Lloyd’s challenge of leaping to B-rank. At first Nick had thought, maybe I can… but the written score made him drop it.

“This test is metal forming. What’s required of a C-rank is the creation of the base shape. What matters is how beautifully you can deliver a formed piece to your superior.”

Distributing metal ingots as he spoke, the examiner briefed the examinees.

In this country’s blacksmithing world, work is loosely divided by class.

E and D handle metal procurement and odd jobs.

C handles metal forming.

B forges weapons from pieces received from C.

A often completes the finishing on famed blades single-handedly.

For reference, there was exactly one S-rank blacksmith until a few decades ago, but he has since retired due to age.

“The time limit is two hours. Please form your metal so well that B-ranks won’t have to fuss over it.”

Lately the industry had been booming, led by the top guild, “One-Eyed Workshop.” More youths were choosing the path of the smith over that of the adventurer. The trade needed craftsmen with ever higher technique.

“Begin!”

With that, the D-rankers’ practical exam started.

(Huh? What is this?)

Nick was baffled from the first moments. All around him, examinees were preparing fires, as if to say they would now heat the metal. With everyone but him moving in lockstep, he almost wondered if he was the one in the wrong.

He’d just scored rock-bottom on the written; he wanted to avoid any further blunders. Even so, doing what everyone else did never crossed his mind.

“Whatever. I’ll do it my way.”

If it wasn’t the method Lloyd had taught—and praised him for—then it meant nothing. Any title earned by copying the crowd was trash to the Nick of today.

“Alright…”

Nick infused his hands with mana and began reshaping the metal before him as if it were clay. It was a feat he’d managed to master right before the showdown.

He lacked the experience to know it, but in this country, you could count on your fingers the people who possessed this technique, some even called it the mark of a prodigy.

Because it didn’t qualify as a formal “skill” (in Mr. Lloyd’s 【Insight】 it appeared as [Attribute]), many people could perform metal forming itself. So why was it treated as genius work?

Because almost no one could truly train in it.

C-rank blacksmiths could not form metal with mana. As the examinees were doing now, they heat the metal and reshape it little by little with a hammer; the standard method.

And once they reach B-rank, they stop basic tasks like forming altogether; from that point, the technique will never improve.

Very few could form metal with mana. But if one reached that realm, their forming speed was overwhelming, just like Nick’s now.

“I’m done.”

“…Huh?”

Nick formed the metal per the assignment and carried the finished piece to the examiner. The other examinees were still heating their furnaces.

Nick, however, had skipped all that and reshaped it as if with telekinesis.

“Did you cheat?”

“Wh-What are you talking about?!”

Put on the spot, Nick was flustered.

(I just formed the piece right in front of you… didn’t I?)

Of course, Nick hadn’t cheated.

By bad luck, the examiner simply hadn’t been watching him. In this exam, it usually takes twenty minutes before the first hammer falls. In other words, the examiner had let his guard down.

“There’s no way anyone forms metal that fast.”

“No, it’s obviously possible.”

“…Tch. Can’t believe a cheater shows up on my watch.”

The examiner shot Nick a look of utter exasperation.

(What is this guy even saying?)

The nonsense left Nick only able to be exasperated in turn.

The other examinees, apparently focused on their work, hadn’t heard a word between the two.

As the standoff dragged on, a man walked into the testing hall.

“Yeah… figured it would be like this.”

“Huh? Who are you?”

Nick frowned at the stranger. Short red hair, a conspicuous eyepatch. He looked breezy enough, but the body beneath his clothes was corded with muscle.

In an instant, Nick understood: this man was from the craftsmen’s side.

“This piece—did you make it?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

While the examiner stood frozen, the man plucked up the formed metal and narrowed his eyes, studying it closely.

“Mm. This is B-rank level.”

A faintly satisfied smile touched the man’s lips as he inspected Nick’s work.

“As expected of Mr. Lloyd’s student. Maybe I should’ve joined up with Lloyd’s crew instead, huh?”

“You know Mr. Lloyd?!”

“But of course. I came out here today to settle a debt with him, after all.”

The man spoke with a put-upon sigh.

“Um… who are you, exactly?”

“Me? I’m Abaddon. Let’s just say I’m where your future goal is.”

Abaddon smiled with deliberate flair.

At last snapping back to reality, the examiner yelped in shock.

“W-Why is Lord Abaddon here of all places—?!”

A shout that loud finally stirred the examinees.

“Wait, is that Abaddon, who forged the ‘Supreme Twin Blades’?!”

“The one they call the Supreme Smith?!”

“Why would he be at a bottom-tier advancement exam?!”

To a blacksmith, Abaddon was an object of universal admiration. Guildmaster of the major “One-Eyed Workshop,” and—as someone blurted out—the legendary smith who forged the world-renowned pair of swords known as the “Supreme Twin Blades.”

“For the record, I’m currently aligned with ‘Incarnation of the Sun.’”

“W-What are you planning to do?”

Abaddon’s sudden declaration put Nick on edge.

Nick knew about the bad blood between Lloyd and “Incarnation of the Sun,” and that he needed to beware their agents.

“Easy. I’m here because Lloyd asked me.”

“Mr. Lloyd… did?”

Nick still kept his muscles coiled, not dropping his guard. “Incarnation of the Sun” would use any means; they even had a “Zero Unit” for things like assassination, he’d heard.

Abaddon, however, kept his easy air and looked to the examiner.

“No point hashing this out here. Aegis, I’m borrowing this kid.”

“O-Of course! But about his advancement…”

Abaddon’s voice dropped, suddenly low.

“Make him B-rank. By any measure, his metal forming is at B-rank. If you’ve got objections, bring them to me directly later.”

“N-Never! I wouldn’t dare!”

The examiner—Aegis—bowed deeply to Abaddon.

The other examinees gaped, slack-jawed.

“Let’s go, Nick. I won’t do you dirty.”

In Nick’s eyes, there wasn’t a shred of malice in Abaddon’s expression. After a moment’s thought, he nodded.

“…Understood.”

“E-Everyone else, continue the exam!”

Aegis snapped the others out of their daze. Bit by bit, they returned to their work.

Nick followed Abaddon out of the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“Hmm? A private room where we can smith.”

A few minutes later, they reached another room in the same facility.

“Strictly, Lloyd asked me to make sure you could test fairly. But since we’re here—”

The room was stocked with metal and hammers. With this much material and these tools, proper smithing was no problem. Abaddon promptly took a hammer and an ingot, setting them on the anvil.

“Alright, time for a special lesson from Master Abaddon.”

He grinned, as he spoke.

†

“From here we’ll begin the practical exam! The task is potion-making! What’s required of D-rank is the extraction of mana from Caene leaves!”

At the very same time Ellis and Nick were taking their practicals, Elna was about to sit for hers to advance to D-rank.

(Potion-making? Easy!)

Elna made a tiny, solitary fist pump.

Naturally, Lloyd had foreseen this. Just like blacksmiths, alchemists had their work divided by rank, and for D-rank the main job was mana extraction.

“What’s with her? She’s acting awfully confident.”

“She already lost the moment she attempted as a Dark Elf.”

“As if an idiot could extract mana.”

While Elna rejoiced, the Elves examinees shot her irritated looks. They mocked her aloud, but in truth they were wary. Elves lacked physical prowess but excelled in alchemy; the idea of a Dark Elf—who possessed physical aptitude—stepping into their domain frightened them.

“The time limit is twelve hours. Begin!”

At the examiner’s signal, Elna closed her eyes. Using her fingertips, she gathered just enough ambient mana from the air and equalized its components.

(It’s lonely without Rena. But I’ll do my best.)

During the showdown, thanks to her and Rena’s efforts, they had performed the outrageous feat of producing a hundred potions in a short time. In practice, Elna had only kneaded mana; Rena had devised the method and handled the finish. Elna couldn’t forgive herself for merely watching. So she bowed her head to Rena and trained until she could craft potions on her own.

(Mm-hmm. Looking good.)

Watching the mana settle, Elna smiled, satisfied. Before the showdown, reaching this stage would have taken her over an hour; now, with her polish, she needed five or six minutes.

“Take that!”

Elna poured the gathered mana into the pot in one smooth motion. In contrast, the other examinees were still glaring at their Kaene leaves.

“Mix, mix ♪”

Humming as always, Elna cheerfully combined the ingredients. She could ignore the crowd and perform in her own world; that was her strong suit.

People had mocked her countless times for being a Dark Elf, a former slave. But now it didn’t matter what anyone said; in her head, the only thing was earning Lloyd’s praise.

“Okay. Done!”

In under thirty minutes, Elna completed the potion. With no bottles nearby, she poured it into the flask she’d brought.

“Mr. Examiner, I’m finished.”

“Hm? What is it?”

When Elna brought the finished potion over, the examiner cocked her head. No one expected a twelve-hour exam to end in thirty minutes.

“This is the potion I made.”

“W-Why a flask? What is going on?”

“I just made it.”

“…Huh?”

Handed the flask of completed potion, the examiner could only freeze. She had had her eye on Elna after that spectacularly low written score; she was sure there was something behind it. Yet she couldn’t make sense of what Elna had just done.

“‘Nietzsche. You’re handling today’s D-rank alchemist exam.’

‘Eh? I usually oversee C-rank.’

‘Precisely. Please. If I don’t repay my debt to Lloyd, he’ll make me his favorite target again.’”

This examiner, Nietzsche, had been assigned today’s supervision by her superior. She hadn’t been eager; only the D-rank exam took twelve hours.

(At this level… honestly, promoting her to B-rank wouldn’t be strange.)

Not only was the time astounding, Elna’s process was different. Even as an examiner who’d evaluated many high-ranking alchemists, Nietzsche had never seen this approach.

(So that’s what he anticipated.)

Understanding that the hassle had been neatly foisted onto her, Nietzsche pressed a hand to her brow. There had never been a case of skipping ranks in an alchemy advancement exam. Yet keeping this girl at E-rank would be absurd.

With a light sigh, she spoke.

“Elna, you’re promoted to B-rank.”

“Really? Yay!”

Elna bounced in place, her joy plain to see.

“W-What? B-rank?! And a Dark Elf, at that?!”

“She must have cheated!”

“Exactly! If that’s B-rank, then we should be A-rank!”

Hearing Elna’s result, the examinees began to protest. Nietzsche had expected this part to be the most troublesome. Still, she understood it was more dangerous to leave Elna as she was.

“If you have complaints, bring them to me! Provided you can extract mana within one hour!”

Nietzsche set her jaw and spoke with authority. Faced with the examiner herself, no one could offer a rebuttal.

And so the three promotion exams came to a close.

Naturally, news of their feats spread across the realm at once: two members of “Veiled Moonrise” had vaulted straight to B-rank, and an A-rank adventurer had been born as well. The struggle for the top spot in the guild rankings, set upon the stage of the Fereia Kingdom, would only grow fiercer from here.

†

While the three were off taking their advancement exams, only Serina and Rei remained at the guild.

“Do you understand what work we maids are actually here to do?”

“Serving everyone… perhaps?”

Seated deep in her chair, Serina faced Rei, who knelt formally on the floor. Rei’s body trembled; she was afraid of Serina, whose power far outstripped her own.

“That is a provisional duty. And why are you so frightened?”

“W-Well, that’s…”

Confronted with Serina’s fixed smile, Rei shrank even more. If she showed fear, Serina would kill her, and that fear of Serina made her fear worse. A perfect vicious cycle.

To put her at ease, Serina let a genuine smile surface.

“So long as you remain my ally, I won’t harm you. Relax.”

“U-Understood. I’ll do my best.”

Back when they first met as Wraith and Serina, Rei had endured “corrections” that were torture in all but name. Now there wasn’t a speck of loyalty to Kyros left; she had recovered her senses enough to praise Lloyd in earnest. At first Rei had doubted Lloyd’s feats, but working in this guild made her understand quickly; he had been the one propping up “Incarnation of the Sun.”

“Rei, our job is to act like an intelligence unit, same as the Zero Unit.”

“…Huh?”

Rei had suspected Serina wasn’t an ordinary maid, though she hadn’t imagined outright espionage.

“B-But Lord Lloyd doesn’t know about this, does he?”

“No. He doesn’t. Which is why we seed information so naturally that he ‘just happens’ to hear it.”

“Why go to such trouble? Telling him directly would be easier.”

Having worked in an intelligence division herself, Rei knew how much effort Serina’s approach demanded.

“We aren’t allowed to shine like Lord Lloyd and the others. We fell into the dark once. No matter how much we atone, the scars remain.”

“…”

Rei fell silent. She had never heard Serina speak with such personal weight.

“Behind justice, someone must always shoulder the darkness. For Lord Lloyd, that someone is us.”

Rei had always lived as a shadow. She hadn’t performed assassinations, but she had erased more than a few people in effect and carried out plenty of information control and false fronts; all for Kyros’s approval.

Compared to that self, Serina’s refusal to seek repayment made her shine in Rei’s eyes.

“Lady Serina, I’ll follow you for life!”

“Heh. Bold words from someone who was shaking a minute ago. Still, I’ve no intention of letting you go either.”

“A-Ahaha… that makes me happy.”

Rei’s smile was a touch stiff, but it was a smile. Seeing it, Serina exhaled in relief. She knew she’d gone a bit too far with Rei, but it had been the only way she could think to break Kyros’s chains. What if Rei stayed scared forever? The thought had gnawed at her.

Knock, knock, knock!

A heavy rapping cut across their talk. Serina turned toward the sound: the front door.

“Oh my, who could that be? No one was supposed to return until late tonight.”

“I’ll get it!”

Until now, Rei had obeyed Serina’s orders grudgingly. After that conversation, her mindset flipped, she sprang up on reflex and took the lead.

She opened the entry door slowly, and saw two little girls.

“May I help you?”

Rei crouched to meet their eyes. They were quite small; maybe a little older than Elna.

“M-My name is Rii.”

“I’m Mii!”

Twins, most likely. Their outfits didn’t match, but both wore similarly cute clothes. Rii’s pale-violet hair fell to the right; Mii’s pale-pink hair fell to the left, like mirror images.

Each had a tiny, adorable horn sprouting from her head. Horns meant their race was Ogre, the same race as Nike, Guildmaster of “Oni’s Fang,” against whom they had just held a guild showdown.

But one thing was odd: each girl had only a single horn. Ogres like Nike had two horns. A one-horned Ogre was unheard of.

Ignoring the fluster that seized Rei before the two little girls, they both bowed energetically.

“P-Pleased to meet you from now on.”

“Pleased to meet you from now on!”