TDPMVI 20

Chapter : 20

Startled, I could only blink, while the men continued talking as if I weren’t even there.

“What do you mean, a snowflake that melts on a child? If you’re going to compare her to something, at least make it better.”

“Ha! Then what should I call her?”

“Well… something like a baby icicle hanging from the edge of a roof….”

“Hah, listen to you. Says the guy who sends his subordinates on sock errands every day. And you expect anyone to treat you like a proper blacksmith?”

“What’s wrong with my sense of style? And you were the one who started the sock errands!”

The conversation, which had begun with snowflakes, suddenly devolved into a heated debate about sock errands.

So, judging by what they’re saying…

They’re the craftsmen of Stykia.

More precisely, the blacksmiths who forge Stykia’s weapons.

Why did they come looking for me?

“Anyway.”

That was when the man with the eyepatch turned back to me.

“So this child is the Duke’s newly arrived daughter? The one who blew away that unlucky count?”

He muttered slowly, then his expression hardened.

“…Good.”

“Let’s begin the initiation.”

With an ominous voice, he slipped his hand into his coat.

I swallowed dryly.

If anything happened, I was ready to bolt. I tensed—

Then a thick hand slowly emerged from his coat.

And in that large hand was…

“Huh?”

A small loaf of bread.

“With something the size of a bean like that, how are you supposed to become a big snowflake?”

With those words, he lightly tossed the bread. It landed in my outstretched hands with a soft thud.

It was still warm, as if freshly baked.

“A weak child can’t survive in Stykia. And that would be a great nuisance to Stykia.”

The other burly men nodded solemnly in agreement.

That’s what they were giving me…?

As I blinked in confusion, the man who had insisted on “baby icicle” clicked his tongue.

“Speaking of baby icicle. What’s your name?”

“H-Hanisha.”

“Right. Baby icicle Hanisha. Have you looked around inside Stykia Castle yet?”

“Well… I haven’t been here long, so I haven’t really seen the inside yet…”

“What?!”

His face crumpled as if he couldn’t believe it.

“A child who will become the Duke’s daughter lazing around without even inspecting the castle? How impudent. Come with me at once!”

“Y-Yes!”

Clutching the bread, I hurried after them.

A short while later—

My mouth was stuffed with bread, and my hands and pockets were filled with candy, cookies, jelly, and chocolate. All of it had been shoved at me by the fierce-looking men.

“Are you observing the interior properly? The atmosphere looks different depending on the weather, so open those big eyes of yours even wider and look carefully.”

One of the men said this with a rough expression while tucking me under his arm like a bag of bread.

At first, we’d been walking side by side. But along the way, I stepped on a shard of glass buried in the snow.

I had only let out a small “Ah,” but suddenly my body was lifted into the air—and neatly stored at his side.

“Uncomfortable, baby snowflake?”

It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable position.

“No. I’m fine!”

But the words that came out were different from what I was thinking. They even came out bravely. I had learned that from watching these men.

“At least you answer crisply, baby icicle.”

Someone else lifted me again.

He was the head blacksmith of the Stykia forge. His name was Ralt.

The blacksmiths here originally came from the northern front lines. They had lived as mercenaries, alternating between fighting and forging to make a living.

During one campaign, they happened to meet the current Duke of Stykia, Pater, who was subjugating monsters on the battlefield.

Unlike others who merely followed orders, Pater’s bold and straightforward swordsmanship captivated them. They chose to serve him as their lord.

Later, when the previous duke, Enril Stykia, died and Pater inherited the title, the mercenaries also entered Stykia Castle.

Their rough speech and behavior were remnants of their mercenary days.

“Well, ‘mercenary’ sounds grand. We just helped each other out among villages short on manpower. It’s an embarrassing title.”

Ralt snorted as if it were nothing.

But I knew better.

The northernmost front where they had lived experienced periodic monster waves. It wasn’t a place just anyone could survive.

The fact that they had crafted their own weapons there, hunted monsters, and sold the byproducts to live—that alone proved their incredible skill.

And they were the ones who helped the Duke create the first mana-infused gun.

At this time, the Empire was entering an era where supernatural abilities were disappearing. Those abilities weren’t just personal strength—they were the Empire’s prestige.

Fearing their loss, people desired stronger weapons.

But most existing weapons were swords, and people imbued them with aura. Those born with strong aura had an advantage from the starting line.

In other words, those without aura could never defeat an aura user, no matter how hard they tried.

And half of those without aura were people who had lost their supernatural powers—people who had never needed aura in the first place.

Overnight, they became worse off than commoners.

As demand grew for lighter and sharper swords, a new weapon appeared.

A gun infused with mana.

Firearms had existed before, but they were long and cumbersome. After firing once, you had to reload powder and prepare again. Too much time and effort for the power they offered.

But Stykia’s gun was different.

It was small enough to strap to your thigh, and the bullets themselves contained mana. You only had to pull the trigger. No innate aura required.

And its destructive power… went without saying.

Stykia’s guns sold like wildfire.

But that didn’t mean they earned fame.

The Empire was heavily influenced by the Temple, which preached that life was precious—even to the point of managing street orphans.

Naturally, they did not look kindly on Stykia becoming the center of the arms industry.

In the end, the more wealth Stykia accumulated, the more it was treated as the Empire’s greatest villain.

Even so, Stykia-made guns flew off the shelves.

At least, until “that incident.”

Anyway, after hearing all those terrifying rumors, I had always wondered just how dangerous these people must be to have created such weapons.

Fierce men without blood or tears.

That’s what I had thought.

And yet—

Dangle, dangle.

Right now, I was being carried tucked under one of those terrifying men’s arms.

They’re a bit rough… but maybe they’re not as bad as I thought?

If that’s the case…

Maybe I could even get their signatures.

“Um, Sir Ralt. Is the forge far from here?”

“Why do you ask about the forge?”

“I just… wanted to see where you work.”

At my words, Ralt’s expression hardened.

“How dare a mere baby icicle try to come to our workplace already?”

His breath puffed out in white clouds.

“I’ll show you what it’s like. Follow me!”

At the same time, he adjusted his hold on me. My body, which had started to slip slightly, settled more securely at his side.

Ah… we’re moving like this again…?

And so I was once more carried along like a bag of bread under a group of bear-like men.

A cold wind blew through the forge.

More precisely, we arrived at the wide open yard beside it.

“Now. What are you curious about? Opportunities like this are rare, so answer carefully—but quickly.”

Well, of course—

“I’m curious about the weapons you made!”

“Hah. A mere baby icicle daring to be curious about our creations.”

Ralt laughed incredulously.

“But… not bad. We happen to be short on test subjects.”

With that, Ralt handed me a gun.

So this is the gun they call Stykia’s curse.

I had asked to see it—but this was the first time I had ever held one.

Still, if I showed fear, they would realize I knew its true power.

So I hid my tension and gripped it.

“Wrap your whole hand here, and place your index finger there. Done?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now fire at that target.”

I hesitated briefly.

When I didn’t fire right away, Ralt spoke.

“If you’re scared, you don’t have to force—”

Bang!

The thunderous sound filled my ears, and Ralt’s massive muscles twitched.

A companion near the target checked and shouted loudly.

“Seven points! She hit seven!”

“She got it inside the target on the first shot?”

“And a seven?”

The other blacksmiths murmured in shock.

“Baby snowflake… have you used this before?”

“N-No.”

“How strange. A child as young as you not being pushed back by the recoil—and even hitting the target. Even my granddaughter couldn’t manage that.”

Ralt stared at me in astonishment and muttered,

“Baby icicle… you really do resemble him.”

“…You’re just like the Duke.”

“Ah, that kind of praise is a little embarrassing.”

I scratched the back of my head shyly.

“Isn’t that right, Duke?”

At those words, I flinched and turned around.

I didn’t know since when—

But the Duke of Stykia was standing right behind me.