Genius Blacksmith's Game

Barad blamed himself.

She’d been wasting away.

Her skin, once like white jade, had grown even paler, almost corpse-like, and she’d been absent from her post more and more often.

He’d brushed it off, thinking she was just a little tired.

And only when he’d found her a few days ago, collapsed and coughing blood, had he finally understood.

Bella is going to die.

Bella, Deputy Commander of the Goyard Kingdom’s Second Knights.

A child with the talent to succeed him.

A child who would pretend to die if he only said the word.

At just nineteen years old, this knight was going to die of illness.

And that foolish knight had been hiding the fact that death was drawing near.

He looked down at Bella, lying asleep in her bed.

After losing his wife and child, he had vowed never to make anyone precious to him again.

If he ever did, he’d decided he would protect them.

When he learned she wouldn’t live out the next two weeks, he knew the truth.

I swore I’d never let myself care again, and yet... you became too precious.

When he looked at Bella, he felt warmth.

Every night, when he watched her silently take to the training grounds and swing her sword, he’d been proud of her.

At some point, Bella had become like a daughter to Barad.

Barad, who’d been quietly watching her, rose to his feet.

There’s far too much a Sword King can’t do.

No matter how strong a person is, there are still things in this world beyond their power.

He’d been searching for a way to save Bella, but every message that came back said the same thing: impossible.

Knight Commander Benson had reported in, flustered.

“We’ve found one possible way. But...”

Despite claiming they’d found a way, there wasn’t the slightest trace of joy on Benson’s face.

“They say she must receive the Saint’s Prayer.”

Barad’s mouth fell open.

“They say the Saint can, exactly twice in her life, offer a prayer that drives away any illness.”

Twice in an entire lifetime.

Which meant that power was unimaginably precious.

Barad closed his eyes without a word.

The Saint would not pray for Bella.

If he were the Saint, he wouldn’t use one of only two lifetime prayers on a minor kingdom’s deputy knight commander. He’d save the greatest emperor of the greatest empire.

Or, he would save the Pope, called the emperor of the Church.

That’s how life is.

Born through the same process, yet the value each life carries is utterly different.

“Is there no way to make the Saint offer her prayer?”

“I doubt it, sir. The Saint’s Prayer is a power uniquely hers, one that can even go against the will of the Church and the Pope. And no one, no matter who they are, can interfere in how she uses it. Even when the last Pope died of illness, the Saint never used it on him. If there is any way to make her use it, it would be this.”

Barad’s face twisted with devastation.

“She would have to owe someone an immense debt of gratitude... or receive a plea from someone who had done something great for the Church.”

The fact that the Saint had been ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) kidnapped and isolated was known nowhere.

Hearing this, Barad let out a low, heavy breath.

“Find me whoever has somehow won the Saint’s heart. If you can’t, then find someone who can win it.”

Benson met Barad’s eyes.

In his gaze was the unspoken question of what kind of reward such a person would need.

“I’ll grant them a noble title.”

*****

Reas Temple looked like a fortress from the outside.

Saint Aria, who hadn’t had a sip of water in days, was bound and dragged around, thrown about by the cultists.

She stared at the Fifth Calamity, who was walking toward her.

Jack was a black wizard who wielded black magic.

His gaunt, bony figure twisted into a sinister smile.

“Less than an hour left now. He will descend upon this world for a brief moment, borrowing your power.”

By He, he meant the evil god.

“He won’t be able to stay long, and he won’t be able to manifest his full power.”

Even so, Jack thought of what was about to unfold.

“Even in that brief time, many temples of the Ares Church will be destroyed.”

Aria’s vision swam.

Even that instant descent would mean over 300,000 innocent people dying.

“To do something like that... how many lives have you taken already?”

Saint Aria was nothing more than the final sacrifice.

Jack raised two fingers.

“You... not even two hundred innocent...”

“...What was that?”

Jack smiled thickly.

“Two thousand children and women’s blood were offered.”

A tear slid down one of Aria’s cheeks.

Watching him speak of it as if it were nothing, her lips pressed into a tight line.

“God will punish you.”

“What a shame.”

Jack clicked his tongue.

“You’ll die without getting to see Him do it.”

Aria asked him why.

“What do you gain from carrying out a massacre like this?”

At that, Jack fell into thought for a moment. There was, of course, the reason that he served the will of the evil god.

But what was the fundamental reason?

“Isn’t it fun?”

That skin-crawling answer left Aria speechless.

Taking a few steps, Jack walked out toward the fortress wall and swept his hair back.

“No one can come here anyway. And even if they do, they’ll just be small fry.”

Jack looked down at the cultists guarding the front of the fortress.

Those figures in black robes pulled down over their heads would thoroughly crush any stray ants who managed to crawl their way here.

His plan was perfect. No matter how much people with pitifully weak power banded together, they couldn’t do a thing.

The Tome of Calamity weakened even us.

But for everyone else inside this barrier, it was far worse.

And even if outsiders came, their levels were lower than soldiers. What could they possibly do?

While he was lost in such thoughts—

“...GhaaAAAK!”

Jack frowned in puzzlement.

A scream had come from below the fortress. Around seventy figures in armor bearing the crest of the Ares Church had appeared out of nowhere, charging forward.

“Rescue the Saint!!”

“For Ares!!”

But even at the sight of them, Jack’s expression didn’t change at all.

Small fry sent by their god didn’t stir him in the slightest.

In truth, there were far too few of them.

The cultists dragged them outside the walls.

“P-please, stop!”

Aria screamed. But the cultists only made a show of it, brutally executing the would-be rescuers in front of her.

Jack noted that not even twenty minutes had passed.

Then his expression shifted, a look of interest flickering across his face.

Because, taking advantage of the Holy Knights being executed below the fortress, a little girl was running away, sobbing.

“Oh?”

*****

Court, who had avoided forced logout by hiding behind the wall, felt his mind go numb.

This is too much...

The realism of the VR game Ares far exceeded anything common sense should allow.

The NPCs were just like real humans. Which meant they could be even more vicious.

Court, bound in place, watched as people were executed one by one and felt sick.

KWAJIIIK—

After that sound, the laughter of the Cult of Calamity’s believers rolled and tumbled everywhere.

Court was, in truth, just an ordinary young man who didn’t know much about “justice” or anything like that.

But what was happening now made him question himself.

Massacre hundreds of thousands?

Because he was a Holy Knight, Court had visited countless temples.

Believers offering him fruit.

Adorable children running around the temple.

And the boys who would tug at his sleeve with toy swords in hand and say—

“I’ll be a Holy Knight when I grow up too!”

Court’s face twisted.

He’d once wondered about people who got “too immersed” in games.

But Ares was now a second world even for Court.

Then he saw a girl running toward the outside of the fortress.

Before the temple had turned into this, she’d been a girl he’d played with, giving her piggyback rides.

An orphan being looked after by the temple, a child with a beautiful smile.

No...

Court took a step forward on instinct.

“What a cute little girl. Aren’t you curious, Aria?”

The Calamity’s chilling voice reached Court’s ears.

“What kind of face she’ll make when the lions tear her apart?”

Black magic formed three black lions.

The three black lions, appearing not far from the girl, started sprinting after her.

[Black Lion Lv.199]

“And what kind of scream she’ll let out as she runs? Hm?”

The three black lions charging—and the girl, sobbing as she ran.

“Uwaaaaaaah!”

Watching the lions, drool dripping from their mouths, Court ran.

This isn’t right.

This wasn’t “over-immersion.”

You, or anyone who played this game—

If you saw this scene right in front of you, you wouldn’t be able to just stand there.

An Otherworlder could die and come back, but the child would not.

One of the massive lions leaped, jaws opening to bite down on the girl’s head.

KWAJAAAAAK-!

In an instant, Court reached them and sliced off the lion’s head.

He hurried to steady himself and wrapped the girl in his arms.

It was too late.

They couldn’t run.

All he could do was hold the wailing child as tightly as he could.

“Uwaaaah!”

His arms around her tightened. Behind him, he heard one of the lions approaching.

He didn’t even know why.

Why was that guy coming to mind now, of all times?

Back in school—

There’d been a time when he’d almost gotten picked on after catching the eye of a bully.

When the bully’s fist was about to smash into his face, a bag had flown in and smacked the bully in the head.

And that guy had fought all five of them alone.

That blacksmith kid had been strong, and he had a sturdy body, so he didn’t get pushed back.

It started then, and continued all the way to now.

At the very least, I have to stay by that guy’s side.

When that guy got burned and had to stand alone in the rain, in every world, Court had become his umbrella.

He knew.

He knew better than anyone that he shouldn’t be hoping for that guy to show up again in a situation like this.

And yet, why was he the first one to come to mind?

The lion finally reached right behind Court.

But then...

“What is that...?”

Behind Jack’s startled voice—

PUUUK—

THUUD—

PUUUK—

THUUUD—

KRAJIIIIIZZZ-!

The sound of something slamming into things and the ground collapsing rang out.

But Court had no time to wonder what it was.

As he hugged the girl and waited for forced logout, Jack doubted his own eyes.

On a low hill not far away—

He saw a man sitting astride a wolf, his back to the darkness that had settled over the world.

Awooooooooo—

The wolves’ howl spread across the land.

[Wolf King has appeared!]

The wolf, barely visible through the darkness, began to run hard.

PUUUK-!

KWAJAAAAAK-!

PUUUK—

KWAJAAAAAK-!

Every time the man on the wolf loosed an arrow, the cultists who took a direct hit were suddenly hammered into the ground.

Jack let out a baffled laugh.

All by himself...

But then his eyes flew wide.

At the horizon of the hill—

Following behind the man in the very lead, hundreds of black wolves burst into view, charging alongside him.

“GrrrrAAAAAAH!”

“GRRRRRRRR!”

The wolves roared wildly, heralding the start of war.

Racing at their head, the man slung his bow across his back.

And then Jack witnessed a bizarre scene, something he had never seen in his entire life.

[You have learned of one of the Five Secret Artifacts of the God.]

[You may use it once.]

[God’s Emergency Crafting temporarily increases by +5 levels.]

Above the man’s head, multiple minerals surged upward.

KWAAAAANG-!

The cultists and wolves collided.

At the very front, the man reached for a sword glowing crimson.

The moment the heated blade cooled to white in his hand—

KRRRRRRRACK-!

Dozens of cultists in front of him literally froze solid.

From the flank, dozens more cultists surged toward him.

Seeing them, he snatched up another sword.

A dragon...?

The grip of that sword was shaped like a dragon’s head.

The moment he grabbed it—

KIEEEEEEH-!!!!

A dragon’s apparition flared from the tip of the blade, and when he swung it, a massive explosion swallowed the cultists.

KWAAAAAAANG-!

Then the man, fixing Jack with a cold stare, reached out into the air.

CLACK—

Some unknown gauntlet snapped onto his hand.

He raised his bow again and aimed it at Jack.

On instinct, Jack formed a shield.

The moment the man loosed the bowstring—

SHWEEEEEEEK-!

With a sound like the air itself being ripped apart, the arrow slammed into the shield.

KRRRRRRRK-!

The shield shattered miserably. But Jack sneered.

The man’s accuracy was laughable. Instead of his solar plexus, heart, or face, the arrow had gone for his leg.

It hadn’t even hit him; it had just grazed past.

But then—

KWAAAAANG-!

Fifth Calamity Jack—

Felt a crushing weight he couldn’t comprehend.

THUD—

One of his knees hit the ground first, and as he clenched his teeth to bear it, the other knee slammed down as well.

Now kneeling, Jack’s eyes quivered.

And the man who had carved through some of the cultists—

Gave a small smile to the Holy Knight hugging the child.