Volume 8, Chapter 29 – Temptation

After changing her clothes in the bedroom and being inspected by Camilla, Yisi waited until the sun had set—although the sky was covered with dark clouds, daytime was still daytime. Only after it was completely dark outside did Yisi, dressed all in black, leave the room. Then, guided by the [Omniscient Map], she bypassed the temple guards and openly walked out of the temple through the main gate.

The believers must think I’m a strange person. With this self-awareness, Yisi walked down the street as if no one else was there, or rather, with an air of brazenness. Her current attire—a black cloak with a hood, and a silver mask that covered half her face—made it impossible for outsiders to determine even her gender, apart from being able to tell from her build that she was not very tall. On such a dark and windy rainy night, it would not be an exaggeration to say that she looked like an assassin on her way to a job. It would be quite normal to be stopped by the night patrol.

“I’d rather that not happen, though.”

Her steps came to a halt in front of a quaint building. Yisi looked up and peered inside from the street. The magnificent hall was dazzling even from a distance, its clean and bright appearance a world apart from the rain-soaked street.

Subconsciously, Yisi glanced at the two soldiers guarding the entrance of the Blacksmiths’ Association. Due to her suspicious attire, both guards were looking at her with a wary, scrutinizing gaze, ready to step forward and question her at any moment.

If I back down here, this whole outfit will have been for nothing.

Summoning her courage, Yisi pulled her hood down a little further, lowered her head, and walked into the Blacksmiths’ Association.

“Halt!”

And she was, of course, stopped.

“This is the Blacksmiths’ Association. Take off your mask and cloak and submit to an inspection!”

Yisi couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

It was an expected outcome. With her attire, it would be strange if she weren’t stopped. Fortunately, Camilla had reminded her before she left, so she had come prepared. Yisi silently took out the magic item that Cynthia had brought in the afternoon from under her cloak and handed it to the guard.

“The-the Wozwahl family crest?! You are Miss Cynthia…” one guard sized Yisi up. “No, this height should be Miss Alice, but Miss Alice isn’t this tall either. Just who are you…”

“Hmph.”

Without opening her mouth, Yisi deliberately let out an annoyed, cold snort. She was currently presenting herself as Viel and did not need to waste words on ordinary people.

“Hurry up and return the crest to this esteemed person!”

The other guard, sensing the gravity of the situation, quickly snatched the petal-shaped item from his companion’s hand, wiped it with his own clothes, glanced left and right to make sure there were no thieves around, then tremblingly held the magic weapon up to Yisi with both hands. This item, engraved with the Wozwahl family crest, was clearly not cheap. If it were to be snatched away in the process of being returned, these two guards would be sent to the gallows before long.

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“Please, my lord.”

Taking back the magic item without a word, Yisi walked straight through the gate. And to make her presence felt, Yisi deliberately took out a red one-handed sword from her storage, its exterior burning with flames and its blade as transparent as a gemstone. The Sword of Ruin was not the best sword in her storage, but it was definitely one of the most splendid and eye-catching weapons.

When this sword appeared in the first-floor hall, the temperature of the entire hall rose by several degrees. Whether it was the nobles browsing the weapon menus or the blacksmiths with their heads bowed in thought, they all turned their heads at this moment to find the source of the change in temperature. And when they saw the crimson gemstone sword hanging from Yisi’s waist, their expressions each went through what could be described as a wonderful transformation.

Greedy, covetous, surprised, incredulous, and utterly shocked gazes, filled with various desires, all focused on Yisi’s waist, then slowly moved to her person. But unfortunately for them, apart from being able to judge from her build that she was not tall, they couldn’t even tell her gender.

“Gods… what in the world is that weapon.”

“Just standing here, I can feel that heat. It’s about to melt me!”

“Why aren’t the flames burning his clothes?”

“The temperature of the air has risen! It’s all because of that sword! I’m sure of it, this is not something a human can forge. It’s like a divine weapon forged by a demon… oh no, by an angel!”

“A flaming gemstone sword… wait, isn’t this the weapon of the fallen angel Azazel from the legends? That divine artifact that has slain countless angels and demons and can absorb souls. Why is it here? Could the one hidden under that black cloak be a fallen angel?!”

“So what if it’s a fallen angel? I have to go take a look, otherwise I’m not worthy of being called a magic weapon smith!”

“Ah, if I could just touch the beautiful curve of the blade, I would be satisfied.”

“You’ll be burned to death, won’t you? Azazel’s gemstone sword absorbs the souls of the wounded!”

“Correction. As long as I can touch that sword, I can die without regrets.”

A single sentence spoke the hearts of all the blacksmiths present.

Like most professions, in the blacksmithing industry, the longer one worked, the stronger their forging skills became. And unlike blacksmiths, magic weapon smiths not only needed steady and powerful hands, but also a deep knowledge of magic and sufficient ingenuity.

No matter how sharp a sword was, as long as it was not imbued with magic, it could not be considered a magic weapon. A person who could not forge a magic weapon on their own could not be called a smith. This was the difference between a smith and a blacksmith. Therefore, by the time a smith had accumulated enough knowledge and works to become a celebrated existence, their life was often more than half over.

And at this age, no longer troubled by the worries of life, the smiths’ obsession with weapons would only grow deeper. Just like the scholars in the Magic Chanters’ Association who sought to explore the truth of magic, smiths would also seek the limits of weapons, and with it came a strong thirst for knowledge. Just as one would want to sleep when tired and eat when hungry, a smith explores the unknown realms of their field. And this thirst for knowledge had already replaced lust as their third great desire. If they could be given a glimpse of the ocean of knowledge, then even if the price was to die immediately after knowing the answer, it could not stop their passion.

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However, Yisi’s purpose was not to arouse the interest of these smiths. The reason she was doing this was simply to promote the existence of Viel.

With Avis not seeing anyone, in order to divert his attention from Durandal, besides using a weapon more powerful than Durandal to attract his attention as Cynthia had said, there was also the method of showing him through her actions that she was the creator of Durandal. Compared to the former, the latter clearly held more sway.

If she were to adopt the former plan, in her identity as Yisi, and bring the Crimson Gold-grade weapon from Cynthia to Avis—putting aside the fact that the Wozwahl family’s weapon might not be as strong as Durandal—once Avis understood the weapon’s principles, he would likely no longer pay any attention to her. The initiative in this process would not be in her hands, and there was also the possibility that Avis would run away with the weapon. That was why Yisi had chosen the latter, that is, to use the identity of Viel to show Avis that she was the creator of Durandal.

Thus, this would lead to a very subtle contradiction. Although Viel was a smith who could forge top-tier Crimson Gold-grade weapons, she could not forge trigger-activated magic weapons. Although Avis might overlook this contradiction due to his strong thirst for knowledge, Yisi did not want a situation to arise that could sow the seeds of future trouble and be very embarrassing. Therefore, the existence of Yisi Enya needed to be introduced here.

By revealing her identity as a smith in the persona of Viel, Avis, who had dedicated his entire life to the study of magic weapons, would surely obey her for the sake of knowledge. In turn, she could then restrain Avis, allowing him to obtain the key to a higher level from Viel only at specific times. At other times, he would need to receive those who sought him out. In this way, the initiative would be in her hands. When to meet Avis as Viel, and how much information to reveal to him each time, as long as she didn’t want to say it, Avis could only act according to her commands.

And because she had created two different identities, there would be no contradiction of ‘a person who can run but not walk,’ and the attention of outsiders would not be overly focused on her. In the eyes of outsiders, the reason Avis would meet with Yisi Enya was because she had the magic weapon given to her by the Flower of the Kingdom, Cynthia. This logic was a matter of course and also explained the origin of the weapon, so no one would pay any mind to Yisi Enya’s existence.

Of course, Yisi admitted that her actions had a roguish flavor to them. But she was learning smithing knowledge for her companions, and she had no intention of keeping Avis hanging forever. After the matter was settled, she would tell him the knowledge he wanted to know. In this way, the two of them would have completed a transaction, except that all the initiative was in her hands.

Ignoring the smiths in the hall who were drooling with covetousness, Yisi walked straight up the stairs to the second floor of the Blacksmiths’ Association.

Just as when she had visited with Cynthia before, Yisi was stopped by the guard at the door on the grounds that Avis had no time. But Yisi paid the guard no mind. Since she was now Viel, it was fine to be a little out of line.

First, she pushed aside the guard blocking her way. Then, as the guard raised his weapon and charged at her, Yisi poured strength into her right leg and kicked at the large door, which was over five meters high.

Boom.

The heavy, solid door, which required four adults to push open from the inside, was kicked down from the outside. The violent roar and the strong wind that rushed out forced the guards to halt their advance. Yisi, after a brief search, found Avis’s shadow in the second-floor library, which was filled with bookshelves.

Among the many bookshelves, about twenty meters away from her, a white-haired old man was intently studying the iron sword in front of him. Even with the commotion of the iron door being kicked down outside, the old man’s attention did not stray from the sword. He muttered something under his breath and nodded to himself.

So he is a master of forging magic weapons.

While marveling inwardly, in order to snap Avis out of his research, Yisi infused magic power into the Sword of Ruin in her hand. First, she made the flames converge into the blade, then raised the sword and threw it forcefully at Avis. The one-handed sword made of crimson gemstone passed through the gaps between the numerous bookshelves and firmly embedded itself in the wooden table.

Crack.

The sudden turn of events finally brought Avis back to his senses. He first jolted, then took several steps back in fear. Comically, when Avis saw the Sword of Ruin on the table, its flames converged and glittering under the magic chandelier, he rushed back to it with a speed even faster than his retreat, as if possessed. The very first glance filled his eyes with obsession and fanaticism. As if he had gone mad, Avis’s hands and feet trembled spasmodically as he raised a hand in the direction the sword had come from, his voice trembling yet full of urgency.

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“W-wait, kill me later! Let me see this sword first!”

Does he think I’m an assassin?

Yisi couldn’t help but curve her lips. It seemed she had successfully hooked Avis’s interest.

It was at this moment that the guards, who had been stopped by the collapse of the iron door, finally mustered their courage and rushed into the second floor, shouting from the dust-filled doorway.

“Master Avis, are you alright?”

“All of you, get out!”

“But there’s an assassin…”

“Get out! This is a divine messenger sent by the gods! If you disturb me again, I’ll have you permanently banished from the capital!”

The urgency and pleasant surprise in his voice were palpable, as well as a strong hostility towards the guards. It was as if Avis would push the guards off the second floor if they said another word.

“Er…”

The guards hesitated, not knowing whether to step forward or retreat. In the end, they could only look at Yisi. Yisi spoke without emotion.

“Get out. I’m not interested in Avis’s life.”

“Y-yes…”

“And have someone fix the door on your way out.”

Waving her hand with her back to the soldiers, Yisi walked straight to Avis, who was circling the Sword of Ruin, so excited he was almost in tears, muttering to himself as if possessed.

Grasping the hilt, she pulled the Sword of Ruin out of the table in one go.

“Eek!”

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A sound that was not human escaped his lips. Avis, who had been so excited just a moment ago, froze on the spot as if struck by lightning. His gaze followed the Sword of Ruin to Yisi, and his previous excitement not only did not diminish, but on the contrary, became even more fervent. He took a single stride to Yisi, knelt down without hesitation, and prayed to her with a joyful and pleading gaze.

“Lord Assassin, please let me see this weapon a little longer. As long as you let me see enough, all my property is yours. Oh no, I’ll take the sword myself… the sword,” as if to show his resolve, Avis tremblingly searched for a weapon on the ground. Remembering that Durandal was still on the table, he shot up, picked up Durandal from the table, and made a gesture of seppuku. His wrinkled, aged face was full of anticipation. “As long as you are willing to let me have a few more looks, you won’t have to do a thing. I-I will take my own life with this sword. Ah, let me write a suicide note. It’s no problem at all to fake it as a suicide!”

If she hadn’t learned from Cynthia beforehand that Avis was abnormally obsessed with weapon forging, Yisi would have definitely thought he was a madman right now.

Taking a step back with feigned indifference—in reality, she did want to step back. Avis’s appearance made Yisi feel that he might prostrate himself and hug her leg or kiss the tip of her shoe at any moment. Yisi let out a cold snort.

“I am not here to take your life.”

A look of confusion appeared on Avis’s aged face.

“W-why? You don’t even want my life in order to prevent me from observing this sword?”

“…”

For a moment, Yisi was at a loss for words. It seemed that even if she didn’t perform the act of forging Durandal in front of Avis, he would still be at her beck and call. But to make him more obedient, it was better to reveal a little.

Yisi cleared her throat.

“I will not let you study this sword.”

Avis’s face instantly turned ashen, followed by a gradually emerging ferocious expression.

“Why? Why won’t you give it to me?! I can give you everything I own, as long as you give me the sword! I only want this weapon used by the first fallen angel, Azazel, from the legends! This is a true weapon of the gods!”

Yisi paused, then slowly spoke in a tone as if she were deliberately toying with him.

“Because, my purpose in coming here is to reward your obsession with magic weapons. As you said, you can think of me as a messenger sent by the goddess, moved by your devotion. You may call me a divine messenger. I will give you the key to a divine miracle—” a playful look appeared on her lips. Yisi pointed her gaze to Durandal on the table. “For example, the knowledge to forge this sword.”

The moment Yisi’s words fell, the corners of Avis’s eyes uncontrollably grew hot. He prostrated himself on the ground, his forehead pressed tightly against the floor. He had never believed in gods before, but today, or more accurately, right now, he had become the goddess’s most faithful believer. For the first time, and sincerely, he offered a heartfelt and earnest blessing to the goddess.

“…I will follow the goddess forever.”