—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The wait was long, but Elena’s turn finally came as dusk settled and shadows lengthened.
“Number 48, you may enter.”
Number 48. Archmage, Master, Chief Professor—she had many titles, but “Number 48” was a new one.
Under normal circumstances, Elena wouldn’t have tolerated such an indignity.
‘For Edgar, I’ll endure it.’
She was lenient towards talented individuals, especially those with strong moral character.
‘With his talent, Edgar might even earn the title of “Creator.” The only human blacksmith to ever do so.’
Elena held high hopes for Edgar’s potential.
She believed he might earn the title of “Creator,” an honor bestowed upon only the three greatest blacksmiths of the current era.
Some might consider this delusional. No human blacksmith had ever received the title of “Creator.”
All the historically significant treasures were crafted by the eight dwarf clans.
Masterpieces like “Twilight,” “Eclipse,” “Void World,” and “Benediction” were all products of dwarven craftsmanship.
Humans had never created anything comparable.
‘But Edgar…’
But Edgar might be different.
He possessed a rich imagination capable of conjuring fantastical devices and the meticulous skill to bring those imaginings to life.
He wasn’t like other blacksmiths who simply followed blueprints and mass-produced items.
The title of “Creator” demanded exceptional imagination and creativity.
“Welcome—…?”
Lost in thought, Elena entered James’s forge.
Ed recognized her and tilted his head, wondering if he was hallucinating.
What was Chief Professor Elena doing here?
“Edgar Fix.”
Elena addressed him calmly.
James nudged Ed and whispered, “Do you know her?”
Ed replied hesitantly, “Uh…,” as Elena bowed respectfully.
Anyone who knew Elena would have been shocked. The Princess’s tutor, the Archmage, was bowing to a commoner.
“I came to apologize for the other day. I made a wrong decision in a moment of anger.”
Elena lifted her head and took a step closer to Ed, continuing,
“I belittled your skills, offered criticism disguised as advice, and deprived you of an opportunity you deserved—”
She stopped, standing face-to-face with Ed.
She extended her hand.
“I want to ask for your forgiveness. As one person to another.”
As one person to another.
She was setting aside her status and power, offering a sincere apology.
Ed scratched his head, smiled awkwardly, and said, “Um… It’s okay. I’ve already forgotten about it. Besides, I tampered with the Chief Professor’s companion animal without permission. I was also at fault.”
…*Also at fault.* Elena smiled at his response.
Blacksmiths were known for their stubbornness, but Ed was different.
He was capable of self-reflection. He wasn’t arrogant despite his talent.
“W-Wait, Ed… What are you talking about? Chief Professor?”
James was bewildered.
Number 48 was the Chief Professor?
Elena took out her badge, bearing the insignia of the Imperial family and the Magic Society.
“Apologies for the late introduction. I am Elena von Iliad Rosario, newly appointed Chief Professor of the Imperial Academy.”
“······?”
James’s eyes widened as he saw the badge. Even though he was from a rural village, he knew Elena’s name.
She was a renowned genius, the Archmage.
As James stared in shock, Ed spoke.
“If anyone deserves an apology, it’s my father, James. He was unfairly disqualified.”
Ed’s words forced Elena to apologize to a commoner blacksmith.
James was startled, looking at Ed in disbelief.
He was demanding an apology from one of the most powerful figures in the Empire.
“It was my fault he lost that opportunity. I’d like to offer him another chance.”
Elena bowed without hesitation.
Having been a commoner herself, she harbored no prejudice against those of lower status.
Apologizing wasn’t difficult for her.
“…Oh, um, it’s alright. Water under the bridge… Honestly, running the forge with my son isn’t… so bad…”
James, flustered, accepted her apology.
He never imagined the formidable Archmage would bow to a commoner so readily.
As he was thinking this, Elena spoke, “Still, it’s a fact that he was unfairly disqualified. So…”
Now that the apology was out of the way, Elena got to the point. She asked James to participate in the bidding competition again next Wednesday.
James and Ed readily agreed.
“Then I’ll see you next Wednesday, same time, same place as the previous evaluation.”
Having concluded her business, Elena left the forge.
As soon as she stepped outside, her figure dispersed like smoke and vanished.
James, staring at the spot where she’d been, turned to Ed and said, “Ed, this… isn’t a dream, is it?”
[T/N: His father calls him Eddie but it sounds weird to me but lemme know which one do you guys like]
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The following Wednesday, we traveled to the Imperial Academy by carriage.
We’d initially planned to walk, but Elena had sent a carriage, insisting we were her invited guests.
As the scenery flew by, I thought about Elena. Why was she being so considerate?
The answer was simple.
‘She sees me as a valuable asset.’
Elena valued talent, to the point of obsession.
She instinctively sensed something ominous brewing in the “Wastelands,” a dangerous region teeming with high-risk monsters and magical beasts.
Her focus on talent stemmed from this unconscious fear, a fear that the Empire might be destroyed by a catastrophe originating from the Wastelands.
She mistakenly believed her interest in fostering talent was due to her new role as a professor, but it was rooted in this primal fear.
‘I need to use this opportunity to my advantage.’
Knowing what the future held, I decided to exploit Elena’s instincts, her compulsion to nurture talent.
Perhaps I could use this to become a student at the academy.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The evaluation was swift.
James’s products were chosen without hesitation.
After all, James was destined to become the academy blacksmith.
This result was a matter of course.
However, Elena’s selection of James’s equipment wasn’t solely due to its quality.
Her true motive for summoning James was to recruit me, his assistant.
Seeing as she had called me to her office for a private meeting, my hunch was correct.
“I’ll be blunt. Edgar Fix, I want to sponsor you.”
And as expected, her opening words, delivered while sipping tea, confirmed my suspicions.
Elena valued my abilities.
However, I feigned ignorance, widening my eyes in surprise.
“S-Sponsor? Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“When I visited Greta village, I examined the items you developed. I believe your talent shouldn’t be wasted.”
“Hmm…”
“What do you say? I’m willing to use my authority to arrange funding from the academy’s talent development fund to support you. I’m thinking of sending you to the Kazantine Allied Kingdom to study for about five years.”
The Kazantine Allied Kingdom.
A dwarven kingdom founded by an alliance of four of the eight dwarf clans.
Currently residing there was the blacksmith “Olin,” bearer of the “Creator” title.
Elena made an exceptional offer: she would petition the Imperial family to have Olin accept me as his disciple.
International relations would be leveraged to nurture my talent.
“I’m truly grateful for the offer. But I want to learn my craft at the academy.”
However, I declined.
While her offer was generous, the main storyline unfolded at the Imperial Academy.
“···Um… You seem to be unaware of Olin’s stature. He’s…”
Elena, with a troubled smile, attempted to explain Olin’s significance.
But I already knew how great a blacksmith Olin was, so I cut her off.
“Yes. He’s the blacksmith who earned the title of ‘Creator,’ which is admired by all.”
“—The title of Creator… What? What did you just say?”
“I know how great he is. Every blacksmith dreams of becoming his disciple.”
“······.”
Elena, momentarily speechless, sank back into her leather chair, staring at me.
Her expression clearly said, “What in the world…?”
“Are you perhaps not interested in improving your skills? Do you want to stay with your father?”
“No. Improving my skills is my utmost priority.”
“···? Then you should definitely become Olin’s disciple. Frankly, there’s no guarantee he’ll accept you. Dwarves rarely take on human apprentices.”
Of course.
The dwarves, immensely proud of their craft, rarely acknowledged humans as disciples.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. But Olin isn’t who I need. He can’t really help me.”
“·····.”
A blacksmith with the title of ‘Creator’ is of little help?
Elena frowned in disbelief.
“Then who *can* help you? No one as a blacksmith has skills greater than Olin’s. He’s a ‘Creator.”
“…Yes, there is. Someone with skills greater than Olin’s.”
Someone more skilled than Olin?
Elena scoffed. The title of “Creator” was given to those at the pinnacle of their craft.
Shaking her head, she took a sip of tea, then with a “go on, I’m listening” expression, she said,
“…Sigh. Fine. Different opinions. Let’s assume, for argument’s sake, that such a person exists. Then who is it? This blacksmith who is supposedly better than Olin?”
Someone more skilled than Olin at the present time?
Of course, no such person existed.
Not in *equipment crafting*.
But someone *did* possess unparalleled skill in mana manipulation:
Elena von Iliad Rosario, the Archmage, the Princess’s tutor, and the Chief Professor of the Imperial Academy.
I needed the teachings of a human mage capable of admitting fault and apologizing, more than those of a stubborn, prideful dwarf.
So, looking directly at her, I stated clearly,
“The person with skills greater than Olin’s is sitting right in front of me.”
“······? In front of you? Who…?”
Elena, confused, looked around.
I maintained a serious expression, my gaze fixed on her.
Sensing something, she muttered, “Wait…,” then pointed at herself.
“You don’t mean… me? …Me?”
“···Yes.”
“···But… how…? I can’t even make a spoon…?”
Of course, she couldn’t handle machinery.
She’d probably never even used a hammer.
If she understood machines, her cat wouldn’t have had *that* prosthetic.
But she had an unparalleled skill.
“Professor, you’re a mana technician. I want to learn mana manipulation.”
“···Huh.”
“Please accept me as your disciple. I need your mana manipulation skills.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇