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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
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I couldn’t get it out of my head.
The love story of Dagran and Reina. Why did their tragic tale resonate so deeply with me?
They were mere extras, not even mentioned in the main game storyline.
‘Isabella.’
Perhaps it reminded me of Isabella.
Every time I played through her route, I lost her, and the grief was still raw.
Isabella and Reina were similar.
Reina couldn’t feel emotions, while Isabella was forced to suppress hers.
Negation.
To be recognized as the next head of House Graham, Isabella had to accumulate the emotion of negation.
The stronger her negation, the greater her power.
The story of Dagran and Reina gave me a clue. The Black Obsidian, designed to absorb only hatred.
Hadn’t the sword been born from Reina’s powerful resentment?
Could the Graham family’s tradition of accumulating negation be connected to some kind of resentment as well?
Could their fate, their compulsion to embrace negation, be controlled by a powerful will?
‘I might be able to save Isabella.’
If I could eliminate that resentment, she might be free.
Isabella’s story, which always ended in tragedy, might finally have a different outcome.
“Of course, that’s not a fundamental solution.”
Even if she were freed from the resentment, the root cause would remain…the ancient Great Demon of the North.
In the later stages of the game, Isabella would constantly mutter, “I must stop that demon,” and in several playthroughs, she had abandoned everything she loved and vanished into the northern blizzards.
“The point is, I need to take that bastard down.”
The bastard who had tormented Isabella, the Great Demon of the North. If I could defeat it, everything would be resolved.
Of course, considering the Ekayan, a mere “lesser” demon, had devastated the dwarven border, an ancient Great Demon would be no easy opponent.
“Who cares?”
Then I’d just make it easy. I would use all my knowledge and experience to create a weapon powerful enough to slay it.
And what would that weapon be?
Crucible.
A different-world version of Crucible.
The hellish sword wielded by ‘that guy’.
I would create it.
The story of Dagran and Reina had given me the inspiration.
‘I underestimated the power of emotions.’
Until now, I had focused on the four fundamental forces of physics and designed weapons based on mechanical principles.
‘This is a different world.’
Mana and emotions were forces to be reckoned with.
Reina, a mere Intermediate Sword Expert, had single-handedly wiped out the monsters that invaded the border, including the Ekayan, a lesser demon.
It was an incredible feat.
I would use the inscription technique for storing memories and create an upgraded Black Obsidian.
The Black Obsidian I would call Crucible.
But some might question me.
The Black Obsidian was born from Reina’s powerful resentment.
Did I have such resentment?
Was my ‘grudge’, my deep-seated resentment, comparable to Reina’s?
“……”
Perhaps not.
I had experienced this world through a game. My reality was separate. Reina had lost her entire life, while I had only lost playthroughs.
‘But…’
Not anymore.
Now that I was in this game, the memories of my previous playthroughs were as vivid as my past life.
The tragedies still made me shudder, my breath catching in my throat.
I could feel the last breaths of the women who had died in my arms.
Decades of despair and tragedy were etched into my bones.
‘It’s enough.’
It was possible.
I would gather all the despair and hatred from my countless playthroughs and inscribe a powerful resentment into the sword…a burning desire to eradicate demons.
The sword would accept only destructive emotions, and those emotions would become hellish energy.
A demonic sword fueled by pure destruction, a different-world Crucible, would be born.
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Time flew by.
The day of departure for the Dwarven Allied Kingdom arrived.
Thanks to Elena’s efforts, Croto, Egua, and Arzier were included in the delegation.
They had puffed themselves up as heroes of the past, easily swayed by Elena’s flattery.
We gathered at the “Exchange” and placed our hands on the teleportation sphere.
Direct teleportation to the Dwarven Allied Kingdom was no longer possible due to the severed trade routes, but we could reach the border region.
“We are the delegation from the Empire.”
We arrived at the dwarven checkpoint and presented our invitations and identification.
The dwarves eyed us coldly but allowed us passage.
“Let’s retrieve the body first.”
Once inside dwarven territory, we headed for Reina’s remains. Her body still lay where she had died 40 years ago.
‘Public opinion was unavoidable back then.’
The dwarves hadn’t given her a proper burial. They believed she had massacred their people in a fit of madness.
Some dwarves, who knew Reina, had argued for a proper funeral, insisting she would never do such a thing.
But the dwarves who had witnessed her rage and Croto’s fabricated testimony had swayed public opinion.
They believed Reina had been driven mad by a monster.
So, Reina’s body had been left exposed to the harsh elements for over 40 years.
“…She looks so lonely.”
Elena and I found her remains.
We had used a sealing orb containing her resentment to locate her.
Resentment, a fusion of memories and emotions, resonated strongly with its source.
“…Prepare a coffin. I’ll restore her to her former appearance.”
Though frozen, the body was severely deteriorated after 40 years.
Fortunately, Elena could project three-dimensional images from her memories.
She used this ability to reconstruct Reina’s appearance, restoring her former beauty.
“The coffin is ready.”
I had prepared a specially crafted coffin for this day.
I placed Reina’s body and the orb containing her resentment inside, then activated the inscription on the coffin’s exterior.
The coffin glowed, and a process began within it.
I would leave the rest to Isabella.
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At our temporary lodgings near the border, Croto and his men were drunkenly boasting about their fabricated heroism, claiming they had single-handedly repelled tens of thousands of monsters.
“Wow, that’s amazing! How did you do it?”
Enya played along, feigning admiration.
Clarice also joined in, her eyes wide with awe.
It was all an act to lull Croto and his men into a false sense of security. We needed them to willingly travel to the dwarven capital.
“Hey, hotshot commoner!”
One of Croto’s men called out to me. I approached and bowed slightly. The drunken man slurred,
“What’s that floating thing? Looks like a coffin.”
He was referring to the coffin Elena was levitating with her telekinesis.
“It’s a gift for our seniors,” I replied with a smile.
“Hmm~? A gift?”
“Yes. For the exhibition tomorrow. To honor those who fought against the monster invasion 40 years ago. I’ve placed some equipment inside. I’m sure our seniors will appreciate it.”
The man burst into laughter, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Wha… what a pretty thing~~! Thinking like that, you’re totally a man! You really know what honor means!”
He guzzled his drink and chuckled.
Enya glared at him, muttering curses under her breath.
“……”
In the midst of this, my gaze met Enya’s.
I mouthed, “You’re doing great. Thank you.” Enya blushed and nodded slightly.
“I’ll excuse myself. I still have some work to do.”
“Haha! Of course! A busy man like you! Come join us for a drink later, if you have time!”
He leered at me, his eyes roaming over my body as he licked his lips.
Age hadn’t mellowed him; he was even more repulsive than before.
Unable to stomach his presence any longer, I turned and headed upstairs to Isabella’s room.
“You’re here?”
Isabella greeted me with a gentle smile. She glanced at the coffin, then a black haze emanated from her as she smiled wider.
“Wow… This is amazing. I haven’t felt such intense hatred in a long time.”
She stood up, her face flushed with excitement, like she had reunited with an old friend. I placed the coffin down and opened it.
Isabella’s face turned even redder as she looked at Reina’s remains.
“Incredible… Such pure hatred…”
She picked up the sealing orb containing Reina’s resentment and hugged it, muttering strange words.
“Yes… You’ve suffered so much… Yes… I understand…”
“……”
Elena and I watched in silence.
The Graham family’s ability to manipulate negative emotions was unique, and the scene was unsettling.
“Yes… That’s a good idea. Gouge out their eyes. Burn their filthy three-inch tongues. Rip out their guts… Yes…♥ Wonderful…”
Isabella’s whispers grew more disturbing.
Elena and I exchanged glances.
We reached a silent agreement.
We needed to leave.
“Ahem, well… Isabella. We’ll… we’ll come back later…”
We whispered, slowly backing away from her, trying not to attract her attention.
“…!!!”
Just as we were about to close the door, Reina’s body moved.
She sat up and embraced Isabella.
Isabella’s whispers accelerated, turning into a rapid-fire chant.
“Yes. Good. Very good. Pierce them with holes. Make their blood gush. Tear their flesh. Pour molten metal down their throats. Then make them watch as I…”
Suddenly, her chanting stopped.
Both Isabella and Reina turned to face us, their eyes were completely black.
“Waaaagh!”
“Kyaaagh!”
We slammed the door shut and fled.
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The next day, we arrived at the dwarven capital to prepare for the exhibition.
“Ed, should I set up the lights here?”
“Yeah, right there.”
“And the welcoming inscription here?”
“Yes, that’s perfect.”
We began setting up for our presentation according to the last assigned time slot.
It wasn’t just about displaying the items; there were many other preparations.
Thanks to my seven helpers, we finished on time.
“Now, we will begin the Iron Hammer Exhibition. Participants, please gather backstage. Distinguished guests, please take your seats…”
The exhibition began.
The prestigious event, steeped in dwarven history and tradition, was underway.
However, our turn was third, a sign of the dwarves’ disdain.
This was because the most anticipated presentations were always last.
‘It doesn’t matter. They’ll forget everything that comes after us.’
Our presentation would send shockwaves through the Dwarven Allied Kingdom, exposing the lies and restoring the honor of a fallen hero.
The villain’s deception would be revealed, and his long-overdue reckoning would finally arrive.
By the returned holy sword, “Guide of Emotions.”
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