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Surtr had said that he had left something that Davey would surely recognize. It was probably because the detector and key to the secret dungeon was part of Surtr’s teachings. The problem was that Davey could not see any traces of Surtr, no matter how hard he looked.

-Hm… I don’t know if I should say this, but…

Perserque was asking whether someone had already found it. However, Davey continued silently looking around the ancient ruins. Then, he climbed up to a place where he could look down on the entire ruin and squinted at the sight before him.

-It’s nice and quiet considering that it’s a tourist attraction.

It was quite a famous attraction, but there weren’t many people here, since the tourism business wasn’t very developed in this world.

Davey could not feel anything, not even traces of Surtr’s power. As the ruin became a difficult puzzle to solve, Davey couldn’t help but frown.

-The ancient ruin of the ‘Thousand-day Blacksmith’ is mostly made out of stone and a special metal, and that’s the reason why it is still maintaining its shape.

Perserque presented Davey with the little knowledge she had, but he didn’t respond. Instead, Davey mumbled something, as if he was writing something in the air. If Surtr, who had never been sure of anything, had absolute confidence that Davey would be able to find it, then Davey could only think that the task was crazy difficult. And if Surtr had been who Davey thought he was, Surtr would have hidden it using this one method.

“Number 7 at number 1… 11 at 23…”

-What are you saying?

“A passcode,” Davey mumbled and chuckled. “Got it.”

Confused by Davey’s confidence, Perserque tilted her head.

If it was hidden in such a manner, surely no one would find anything here but Davey. Davey came down and entered the ruins without hesitation. He climbed up to a place where he could see the entire workshop and put his hands on the anvil attached to the ground.

The ancient ruins appeared to be Surtr’s home and his shop. However, it was much bigger than ordinary workshops and it still contained traces of Surtr himself. It was now just a pile of rocks with no pillars or a ceiling, but his dungeon was still intact.

‘How am I so sure? If this is the only way to enter, it’s impossible for anyone else to find this place.’ Davey looked around him, then he took his hand off the anvil and released his mana. He concentrated his mana on the tip of his finger before tapping the surface of the anvil, as if he was tapping a morse code.

-How could you tell?

“The entire ruin is made of passcodes. You can see that it’s made from a few codes if you look at it from up above.”

Perserque gasped in shock when she understood what Davey said. The code of the ancient ruin was pointing to one thing: the entrance that was with the anvil in the center, and that a certain passcode was needed to enter.

‘You said you would give me all of it if I were able to find it, and you hid the door with this kind of passcode?’

Davey’s seemingly meaningless actions carried on for a while. As Perserque silently watched him, her eyes widened slightly at the change.

[Grrr…]

As Davey heard a low-pitched growling of a beast, Perserque and himself disappeared with a flash of light. As if no one was ever there, the ancient ruins fell silent.

* * *

It was a space deep underground. It would be wrong to assume that this space was right beneath the surface of the ruin.

-It’s an underground dungeon. My, what a nasty way to enter.

“That’s why he said that I could take all of it if I could get in. I heard that those were his last words, but they seem to have been long forgotten.”

At that time, many people had probably racked their brains trying to take what Surtr had left behind. However, this place wouldn’t have been left like this if they had been successful.

‘I wonder how deep this underground space is.’

-Surtr did put a lot of effort into this place; he created a magic circle that blocked the underground pressure and made it possible for air to be supplied here. The mages at the time must’ve had a lot of trouble with this.

“How far down do you think we are?”

-Well, there’s no way to tell. From what I remember of the ‘Thousand-day Blacksmith’, it wouldn’t be strange if we are about one hundred or two hundred meters deep right now.

This was why this particular space hadn’t been discovered for thousands of years; anyone could fulfill the conditions to find the entrance, but not everyone could enter. To enter, one needed the code that Surtr had created. In the past, there were probably a few people who had known about it, but now, Davey was the only person who had knowledge of it. Since no one would have known it near Surtr’s death, this dungeon might have never been discovered if Davey hadn’t met him.

-It’s more…like a living space rather than a dungeon…

Just as Perserque said, the structure of the underground dungeon looked like someone had lived here while hiding from the outside world. The space was quite large for one person, but as spacious as it was, it was filled with everyday things. And the only things that still had their shape were the ones that had a weak scent of mana on them. There was a dull anvil, a burnt-out furnace, some tools Surtr had used, as well as research journals and handwritten notes. Surtr had been a madman who had dedicated his entire life to being a blacksmith although he didn’t act like that at the Hall of Heroes.

‘Since even he admitted it, what more is there to say?’

After finishing Caldeiras, the divine sword, Surtr had come to this place following Ares’ death. He had spent the remainder of his life on one project before passing on. Although he had died on ground level, everything up to his death was still here.

Davey slowly walked into a room, spotting a pile of books that seemed to have been written by Surtr himself. It contained his techniques, ones that no other blacksmith on the continent could mimic.

Surtr was called the ‘Thousand-day Blacksmith’ by humans, but he was called the ‘Devil\'s Blacksmith’ among the dwarves, which was the clan of talented craftsmen. It was a little cringe-worthy, but to them, it might have been a perfect name for him. He had great talent in forging regular swords, but had the exceptional technique of making something by incorporating mana.

Ordinary craftsmen took pride in creating something by purely hammering metal, but there was a limit to doing that. Surtr had touched on mana to break that limit, eventually crafting effective weapons. Ultimately, what he had made was Caldeiras, the divine sword, which every craftsman on the continent wished to see at least once in their lifetime.

Surtr had been the great blacksmith who had conquered both the conventional and deviant path, and that was why he was called the ‘Devil\'s Blacksmith’. But despite him being compared to the devil, apparently, there were many who would gladly sell their souls to craft something with him just once. After all, he was the first human being to have made a great piece of armory called the divine sword; though it wasn’t made by God, it was a legendary sword made by a human.

There was no way to describe a sword that possessed an ego and Class 9 holy power other than divine. Humans called Surtr the ‘Thousand-day Blacksmith’ because he had crafted Caldeiras by hammering for a thousand days, but to the dwarves, he was the deviant blacksmith who had been able to incorporate the power of mana into it. And even so, they couldn’t help but respect him. This was who Surtr had been.

-There are traces of Surtr everywhere…

Perserque let out a small moan, as if she had remembered a painful memory.

‘Is it yearning, or perhaps sadness?’ Leaving Perserque behind, Davey quietly pulled out a book from the bookshelf and opened it. As he did, the faint scent of mana dispersed, and he saw the old pages. There was an ancient language, which was no longer used, written on the pages, but it was familiar to him. He quietly turned the pages and thought how important this book, which contained a record of Surtr’s life from the first time he had held a hammer, was.

[Preserve]

Davey cast another preservation magic spell as the old one scattered from the book. He placed the book back and walked away.

-You’re not taking all of it?

“It’s right to leave the remnants of Surtr here. I can come back when I need it.”

‘While I’m here, it might be nice to set up a transportation magic circle.’ Keeping his silence, Davey looked around the workshop and fiddled with some of Surtr’s tools. Then, he took the dull hammer that Surtr had used and went into a large chamber.

-This…is like an altar.

There were many types of rooms in the chamber: an office full of bookshelves, a bedroom, a kitchen made for dining, a food storage, and the last being an enormous altar-like room.

“Ugh, this cultist…”

Perhaps it was an altar to worship the nonexistent God of Blacksmiths. As Davey walked in without a word, he could see a large safe on the altar boasting its dignity. It actually seemed like the safe was being worshiped rather than a god.

Boom!! At the same time, Davey heard an evil, low-pitched growling. It was as if it had heard his footsteps.

[Grrr…]

-Someone’s here.

It seemed that Davey wasn’t the only one who heard the beast. Intrigued, Perserque excitedly looked around, but Davey kept his focus on the safe. The sound was similar to what he had heard before coming in here. ‘Was it just a sound or an echo of evil desires?’ Whatever it was, the sound was coming from the safe.

-It’s the first time an evil desire has come to life this strongly.

It had no life, but it growled as if a living thing was manifesting its will. Its desire was simple: caution. It seemed like the safe itself was alive, but even an idiot would see that the sound was coming from inside the safe. It was obvious that the object in the safe was the last work of Surtr. There should be a set of twin swords that Surtr did not finish, and that was what Davey was here for.

The low growl warned Davey not to come any closer, but he unlocked the safe without hesitation. It could threaten him to try and keep him away, but it couldn’t physically stop him. At last, the safe door opened on its own and he could see what exactly was within it.

Caldeiras, the divine sword, was the best sword Surtr, the ‘Thousand-day Blacksmith’, had crafted in his lifetime. However, would that have changed if he had finished these two swords? Would it have been only one of the great swords, or maybe the second-best? Whatever it was, it was inevitable that there would be at least a slight difference in the quality between a sword made with responsibility and a sword made out of passion.