Living My Third Life In Danmachi Chapter 24: Rumi Warhowl (3)

Chapter 24: Rumi Warhowl (3)

Oren Warhowl is a High Smith of the Hephaestus Familia. A rare smith with Level 4 skills of exceptional caliber.

He was once a candidate for captaincy due to his outstanding abilities, but at some point, he stepped down and spent years in idleness.

After all this time, he suddenly returns and asks for a forge.

"Don't you think it's shameless to make such a request after all these years?"

"...I’m sorry, Lady Hephaestus."

Oren bowed deeply, offering his sincere apology to his goddess, Hephaestus.

He had given up his position with only a few words back then, and now he was here, asking for a forge once more.

She understood his circumstances, but it was still too sudden.

"So, what’s gotten into you?"

The red-haired, red-eyed goddess, wearing an eyepatch over her right eye, gazed at Oren with a piercing look, as if she could see right through him.

But Oren did not waver. He lifted his head and met her gaze head-on.

"Because of someone's words… I've realized what my final task should be. And I intend to see it through."

"Someone?"

"From what I've heard, he's called Thousand's Slayer of the Susanoo Familia."

A foolhardy record holder who shattered previous records. His achievements alone were enough to make many gods admire his sheer toughness and audacity.

Of course, those who judged by appearances lost interest, calling his gaze unpleasant.

"I owe him a debt, and there’s something I must do. Please, grant me use of the forge."

His resolve was unwavering.

Hephaestus also took note of his physical condition—there was nothing mortals could truly hide from a god’s eyes.

"...Very well. Use it as you wish."

She nodded, granting her permission.

"I left your old forge just as it was. You might as well work with the tools you're most familiar with."

"Thank you."

Oren bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude.

Now, all that remained was time—and a battle against himself.

...

A few days after we met that damn old man, Rumi came to our home.

[Grandpa wants to see you.]

"Why?"

[I’m not sure.]

So, he’s finally made up his mind? I thought as I stood up.

Riseria was still at work. Lately, she hadn’t been going down to the dungeon, and I had no idea what she was up to—but at least she was eating regularly.

After hearing the news, Lili decided to come along, and for some reason, Susanoo also tagged along as we left home.

"Why are you coming, Susanoo?"

"I’ve got a feeling about this. I may not look it, but I’ve been around for tens of thousands of years. I know when something’s up."

"The gods here have lived for hundreds of millions of years, though."

"Isn't it a bit much to say hundreds of millions of years for a god who has only lived alongside human history?"

With that, Susanoo, Lili, and I followed Rumi to our destination.

After walking for a while, we arrived at a forge. On the storefront, I noticed a familiar emblem—one I had seen plenty of times before.

Hephaestus Familia? It was a famous and highly respected familia, so I remembered it well.

"Ah, you’re here."

As we stepped inside, we were immediately hit by a wave of heat. Oren was at the forge, hammering away.

"It took me some time to get my touch back," he said, glancing at us. "And thinking about what exactly you needed took even longer than expected."

"Are you ready?"

"I'm prepared."

"Is everything set?"

"Of course."

"Then that's all that matters."

I nodded in understanding and took a seat in the corner of the forge.

"The one over there—is he a god? Quite the esteemed guest we have today."

"Just focus on your work. I like people who put their all into what they do."

"I'm honored by the praise."

Oren let out a hearty laugh and continued hammering away.

After some time, he inspected the piece he had been tempering—then, without hesitation, tossed it back into the furnace to melt it down again.

"Finally, my hands are getting back into shape. Can't believe I lost my old touch… I really have gone rusty."

Just when I thought we were the only ones invited to this forge, the door opened, and someone else entered.

A red-haired, one-eyed goddess with an eyepatch (an eyepatch, seriously!). Alongside her was a black-haired, well-endowed woman—with an eyepatch over her left eye (an eyepatch, seriously!!).

"L-Look… That’s Cyclops… The famous Level 4 High Smith and current captain of the Hephaestus Familia."

"And her name?"

"Tsubaki Collbrande, I heard."

Lili’s information network is amazing. I should start relying on it more often.

"A guest, I see, my Lady," the dark-skinned woman said as she glanced at Susanoo and me.

…A half-dwarf? She was tall, but her muscles were impressively developed. If she was the skilled smith Oren mentioned, and even held the captain position, then it made sense.

She was still quite young, yet on par with Oren—that alone spoke volumes about her skill. As expected of a dwarf.

In generic fantasy stories, dwarves usually ended up as fodder for protagonists or dragons.

"So, you’re the one Oren invited? Nice to meet you. I’m Hephaestus."

"I’m Luke Blade, of the Susanoo Familia. That’s my god over there, and this is my daughter."

"...Daughter?"

"Yeah. Got a kid at 14, so marriage is out of the question for me, huh?"

Honestly? I have a thing for eyepatches.

"Yo, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Loki."

"So, you’re Susanoo? I’ve heard the name, but we never met even in Heaven... Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a thing or two about you from Loki as well."

"Looks like Loki keeps her promises."

"...Huh? What do you mean?"

Did something happen between Susanoo and Loki? Did they build the Great Wall together or something?

...Sorry, Susanoo, even if I have my own preferences, I can't support that.

"Let’s leave the small talk there, shall we?"

Tsubaki Collbrande’s voice cut through the conversation, bringing our focus back.

Both the gods turned their gazes toward Oren.

Just in time—he had just pulled out the main material for his work.

"That...!"

"The hide of Cadmus, the Steel Dragon?"

Ah, I’ve heard of that before. A monster so strong it's practically a floor boss. Its drop items are notoriously expensive.

From what I recall, Cadmus' hide is an incredible material—both as raw material and in craftsmanship.

"I spent my entire fortune on this. Luckily, I had it stored safely in the forge's vault."

"But with that alone, you couldn’t possibly make a weapon or even a full set of armor..."

"That’s not what I’m making."

Oren smirked.

"A true blacksmith crafts weapons suited to the one they forge for. That’s only natural."

Then, he turned his gaze toward me.

"I've heard all about you these past few days. That ‘armor and weapons are just self-defense for women and children.’ That’s what you said, right?"

"...Eina is the culprit, isn't she?"

I don’t know how she found out, but I’ll have to ask Eina about it later.

"So, armor just gets in your way, and weapons don’t suit you at all?"

"Pretty much."

"Judging by your personality, you probably avoid armor because you're worried about your Endurance stat growing too slowly, huh?"

"Spot on."

"Heh, if I got to this age without picking up on things, I’d have wasted my life."

No matter how talented Tsubaki is, experience from age is something you can’t easily gain. She must’ve pieced things together based on what she’s heard.

"I'll forge you battle clothes—Cadmus' hide, coated with adamantite. The result will be a battle outfit that excels at magic resistance and endures blades well."

"And against blunt force?"

"At the end of the day, it's still cloth. It’ll dampen impacts to an extent, but you’ll still feel the force of blunt attacks."

"That actually sounds perfect."

There’s information to be gained from taking hits. Magic is dangerous, sure, but if I can’t extract every possible detail from my opponent in close combat, I could end up dead.

If the suit completely negated impact damage, I probably wouldn’t even use it. I'd rather just push my Endurance stat past 2000.

"Alright, let’s begin."

With that, Oren placed Cadmus’ hide into the forge.

A wave of heat rolled out, intense enough that even Lili, with her stats, struggled to endure it despite the distance.

Worried about Rumi, I glanced back—only to see that Susanoo was gripping his sword, doing something to shield her. She seemed completely unaffected.

Drop items contain metallic properties, meaning even those that look fragile can be reforged with heat.

Once the hide was sufficiently heated, Oren began tempering it.

Even though it was just a hide, every hammer strike rang out like he was forging solid steel.

Then, he took the pre-melted adamantite, stretched it into a thin layer, and coated the hide with it.

Strangely enough, despite being metal, the material retained the softness of fabric. The "Dan'ya" (Forge) ability of a High Smith was working its magic.

"You don’t need any tailoring help, Oren?"

"I owe you a lot, Collbrande… but this is my job to finish. I appreciate the thought, though."

Oren smiled as he refused Tsubaki’s help.

Then, he started cutting and stitching the now fabric-like hide, shaping it into the final product.

The passion in his movements burned like a flame nearing its final blaze.

And indeed, it was his final moment.

"Kuh…!"

Oren suddenly coughed up blood in the middle of his work.

Rumi gasped and rushed forward, but Susanoo stopped her.

She had already interfered once—and that had been enough.

It may seem cruel, but when someone chooses to risk their life, the only right choice is to respect that decision.

There was no doubt.

He was fully prepared to die.

"My time seems to be running out."

"You pushed yourself too hard… If you just rested, you could live for a few more years."

"I’d rather bet on something certain than live an uncertain life."

The battle clothes, nearing completion, were stained with blood—the blood of the man who forged them, a father’s blood.

As if responding to the tragedy, the garment began to cry.

"I'll pour everything into it and make it a special armament. Since it’ll likely get damaged often, I can add either indestructibility or self-repair. Which do you prefer?"

"Self-repair."

"Consider it done."

Indestructibility sounded nice, but it didn’t suit clothing—and more importantly, it would mean I didn’t trust my own body to withstand damage.

Oren moved on to the finishing touches.

The battle clothes had a brownish hue, with noticeable crimson stains from his blood. The design was long-sleeved and tailored for easy movement.

In addition to the main attire, there was also a hooded cloak that could cover the body. If necessary, the cloak could be given to someone else for protection.

"My final creation… I’ll let you name it."

"Are you sure?"

"It bears the blood of its maker—it’s a pitiful thing. I have no right to name it."

The fit was snug, like a leather jacket, but had style and flexibility, making movement effortless.

…It reminded me of the outfit of my mentor and my wife—the one who taught me how to fight.

"Busujima."

"The meaning?"

"It means ‘poison’s and island.’ Even if my name has changed, I still have deep ties to the Far East."

I couldn’t bring myself to explain the whole truth.

All it needed now was a mask.

Maybe I should find one somewhere. It might come in handy.

"Then, I'll leave it to you…"

The moment Oren finished speaking, he collapsed, coughing up even more blood.

"Grandpa!"

A voice called out—one I never expected to hear.

Rumi ran forward, kneeling beside him as she frantically tried to wipe away his blood.

"Rumi… You can talk?!"

"I always could… I just chose not to. This… just happened to be the moment."

…Her voice was beautiful.

"Grandpa! Please, wake up! Grandpa!"

"I'm sorry, Rumi…"

Oren, his body drenched in blood, gently stroked her hair. Seeing her finally speak, tears welled in his eyes.

The last regret he carried had finally been resolved.

"Don't worry… At the very least, I know you'll be in reliable hands."

At this point, I understood everything.

Oren had crafted me the best armor he could, while also entrusting Rumi to me.

I didn’t know why me, of all people, but after accepting something made by a man who staked his life on it, I couldn’t ignore it.

It was practically a forced contract, but honestly? This wasn't my first.

If anything, the forced part made it more reassuring.

"Grow strong. Live happily. And… I'm sorry."

For the last time, he gently touched the scars on Rumi’s face.

A long, straight scar ran beneath her eye, crossing with another that ran down the center of her right eye—forming a crucifix-like mark.

If not for those scars, Rumi might have lived a much happier life.

"I'm okay, Grandpa."

Tears streamed down Rumi’s face as she spoke.

Her tears of sorrow washed away the blood of Oren's guilt.

"...Thank you."

With those final words, Oren closed his eyes.

His face, at least in his last moment, was peaceful.

...

To discuss Rumi’s status, Susanoo arranged a private meeting with Hephaestus.

When a familia member has a child, that child automatically belongs to the same familia—similar to how a noble’s child is born into nobility.

However, Rumi was still young and, due to the accident that led to Oren taking her in, she had never received Falna. That meant there was no need for a Conversion Ceremony, but legal paperwork still had to be processed.

Even without Falna, as a non-combatant, Rumi was still officially part of the Hephaestus Familia.

"Alright."

Hephaestus, arms crossed, gazed at Susanoo with her crimson eye.

"So, who exactly are you?"

"...Man, you gods around here are way too sharp. How’d you figure it out? I wasn’t lying when I said I had no prior connection with Susanoo."

"Of course, you don’t have any connection with him. I don’t even know what kind of person you are."

She smirked.

"But, you see..."

Hephaestus pointed at the sword strapped to Susanoo's waist.

Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi.

The divine blade Susanoo used to slay Yamata-no-Orochi—later offered to Amaterasu. Though he had reclaimed it, there was no mistaking its divine presence.

"I’m a blacksmith—my eyes naturally go to weapons. The moment I saw that sword, I knew it contained a divine spirit."

"Tch. Should’ve left it at home."

Susanoo clicked his tongue.

If he’d known Hephaestus was coming, maybe he would’ve thought twice about bringing it.

"...Can I take a look at it?"

"Of course."

He drew the sword and held it out for her to see.

Despite its aged appearance, the blade remained razor-sharp, with clear signs of recent use.

The divine presence within the sword was unmistakable—truly worthy of being called a divine blade. Its latent power wouldn’t stand idly by when its wielder was in danger.

"A magnificent sword."

"Appreciate the compliment. If you want details about me, just ask Loki."

"So, you're telling me that she kept this interesting story all to herself? Next time I see her, she better watch out."

Hephaestus smirked, already imagining ways to mess with Loki. Sometimes, it wasn’t a bad idea to turn the tables on her.

"As for Rumi, we’ll take her into our familia. Even if it’s not me, our foolish captain will cherish her like his own life."

"Honestly… handing over a kid I know to a god I just met doesn’t sit right with me."

That was only natural.

Someone could seem kind on the surface, but appearances could be deceiving. They might just be acting, hiding their true nature.

And in this case, it wasn’t just any stranger—it was a god he had never met before.

"I won’t lie. I only met her today, so I don’t even know how to act around her yet."

But…

He was, first and foremost, a god who lived for the people.

A god born from the wishes of humanity, one who existed because of their prayers and beliefs.

"Still, as time passes, bonds will form. I’ll come to see her strengths, to like her more and more. In the end… we’ll become family. Isn't that what a familia is supposed to mean?"

"...Yeah, it is."

It was hard for one god to detect lies from another.

If the conversation had been with a mortal, a god could easily see through any deception. But between gods, it was different.

Still, there was no lie in his words.

"If that kid ever ends up in danger?"

"Even if it’s not me, there’s someone else who will definitely save her. And I don’t think he’d ever fail."

He was an idiot, but when it came to battle, he was nothing if not cold and calculated.

Susanoo trusted Luke.

But at the end of the day, he was still human. No matter how unique, there were limits to what he could do.

"If that guy can’t handle it, then I will. Even if it means lighting up this entire city with thunder, as long as I save her, that’s all that matters."

Even though divine power (Arcanum) was forbidden in the lower world, Susanoo openly conjured lightning, letting it crackle ominously as a silent threat toward Hephaestus.

She gulped.

"There’s a saying from the Far East… something about burning down an entire house just to kill a flea."

"For those kids?" Susanoo grinned. "Then I’ll burn the whole damn house down, as long as the flea dies."

At that point, even Orario’s strongest adventurers wouldn’t qualify as fleas.

Susanoo smiled, his words merciless.