Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 303: The Dwarven Cave of Mantamia (5)

“You’re quite polite for a god,” Ketal said.

“It is because you have helped the world above.” Hephaite’s voice was calm as it filled the hall. “You faced down evil and lent your hand to the churches. You helped the persecuted orders in the North find firm ground.”

During the battles in the North, there had been believers on the field. Through those eyes, the gods had watched the Ugly Rat and Ketal cross paths. Ketal had stood opposed to the rat. He had kept the surface safe from the being that stained all that lived.

“At that time, we could hardly intervene in the Mortal Realm. We had to watch with open eyes while the Ugly Rat defiled the world. If not for you, the North would have fallen into that filth’s grip. More than that, you showed courtesy to our children. Courtesy should be returned.”

Their manner toward Ketal was measured and deeply respectful.

Ketal regarded Hephaite with a look of mild surprise. He had met three gods since stepping into this fantasy. The first had been Kalosia, God of Lies and Deception. Kalosia’s feelings had been friendly. The second had been the God of Hunger, Ferderica. They had glared at Ketal with naked hostility and tried very hard to kill him. The third now stood before him, the God of the Forge, Hephaite. What they showed him was caution and curiosity, respect, and a lively interest.

Ketal smiled. “I am glad you are not opening with immediate hostility like the other god. A pleasure to meet you. You already know, but I am Ketal.”

“You mean Ferderica,” Hephaite said, amusement in their tone. “They are a fierce friend. Even in the wars of long ago, they labored tirelessly to protect the world.”

It was not a false judgement. In the end, Ferderica had tried to remove Ketal because they believed he would harm their devoted followers.

“They are a very good god to their faithful. Perhaps they were not good to you,” Hephaite said.

“I understand. There is no reason for your kind to look kindly on me.” Ketal took it without complaint, and Hephaite watched his composure with a curious expression.

“Kalosia did speak of you. Even so, it is strange. You are a being from the Inside, yet you converse so easily. We did not expect that,” Hephaite said as their gaze slipped to Ketal’s belt. “What you are carrying at your hip is unexpected as well.”

The Holy Sword, which had been holding its breath, shuddered, then spoke in a voice that sounded like it was dying. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

“It has been a while, O great Hephaite. I am pleased to see you...”

“Pleased, you say... Yes. Let us say I am pleased,” Hephaite replied with a smile that did not reach their eyes. “I poured heat and heart into sending you down. Now you are broken, and the power housed within you has leaked away. I wonder if you deserve a scolding.”

“Eek. I’m sorry!” the Holy Sword squealed, almost seizing with panic. Hephaite did not move to punish it.

“Still, you are no longer ours,” they said. “Your master is the one from the Inside.”

“Are you acknowledging me?” Ketal asked the god. “Even though I broke the Holy Sword?”

“The rule I set is that the one who draws the blade becomes its master. You did draw it, even if by force. Even if it broke in the process, it is still yours. The sword itself seems to recognize you as its wielder.” Hephaite’s voice fell to a thoughtful murmur. “Moreover, you have done more good for the world than the harm of breaking it. Why would I take offense over a small matter?”

“If that is your view.”

“From where I stand, it is even something of a relief. The threat of the Holy Sword I forged being destroyed has vanished. I will not interfere. The sword is yours.”

“Hm.”

Recognition of ownership complicated things. Ketal had come to the God of the Forge intending to have the sword restored and then, if possible, to see it find a proper master. From the way Hephaite spoke, they had no intention of taking it away or sending it on again.

“So then,” they said, “what brings you here?”

Ketal gathered his thoughts and laid out his purpose. “Restoration of the Holy Sword. Is that possible?”

“It is not impossible. I forged it, after all. But at present, there is no material.”

“I still have the broken part of the blade,” Ketal said.

“The power soaked into that metal has already bled away. It has to be replenished. You will need to recover materials that can become part of the blade again. Where do you think those may be found?”

Something in their tone hinted at the answer, and Ketal caught it at once.

“The Mantamia mines,” Ketal answered.

“Those mines are grace I set upon the Mortal Realm.”

The mines were unique in the world, a place where refined ores had been compressed and compressed again. They had not formed by chance. Hephaite had laid them down for the dwarves who served them.

“If you bring me ore from within, I can repair the sword to perfection. For now, those tunnels lie in filthy hands.”

In short, Raphael would have to be dealt with. Ketal moved to the next item on his list.

“How about this? Can the dwarves refine it?” he asked the god. He drew the Dragon Bone from his storage and showed it. A small spark of surprise lit Hephaite’s eyes.

“You pulled that from a Dungeon,” they said. “Its force is strong. There is little difference between it and a Dragon Heart. If it is Grombir, he can refine it.”

They added another note. “But, he will require higher tools. And those are inside the mines as well.”

This meant that Mantamia had to be reclaimed before the Dragon Bone could be smelted into a catalyst. Ketal then produced Whitie’s hide and the Ugly Rat’s forepaw. Hephaite’s brow twitched as they stared at the severed limb.

“It has been a long time,” they said. “That thing was a nightmare. It carried the world’s grime and used it to foul us.”

In a faraway age, Hephaite had faced the Ugly Rat directly. They knew both its raw strength and its wrongness. That was why the sight shook them.

“The Rat’s forepaw has been cut off,” they whispered. “We could not manage that. Yet you, you... You fought the rat.”

It was not remarkable that a being from the Inside had clashed with another from the Inside. They did not get along well with one another to begin with. What was strange was that Ketal had gone beyond opposing the Ugly Rat. He had tried to defend the world above. Hephaite could not hold the question back.

“Why do you stand on our side?” Hephaite asked Ketal.

“My answer is always the same,” Ketal said. “Because that is what I want.”

“Why do you want that?”

“Because to me, this place is my world.”

Hephaite stilled. In that moment, they understood something about the twist inside Ketal, a stubbornness bent out of its natural shape.

“ I see...,” they said at last. “You are broken. For us, you are broken in a useful direction.”

They came to a decision.

“I have no wish to be your enemy. If I can bargain, all the better. You want the Holy Sword restored. You want the Dragon Bone refined. You want to make use of fragments of the Oldest Ones. I will grant all of it, but there is a condition.”

Ketal needed to defeat the demon and take back Mantamia.

“Will you accept?” Hephaite asked him.

“Gladly.” Ketal nodded with a grin.

“Then the bargain is struck,” Hephaite said. “I swear by my name and my worth. If you help me reclaim Mantamia, I will grant everything you desire.”

A god swore upon their own name. To break such an oath would stain and diminish their divinity. It was a promise that could not be lightly broken.

“Then I leave it to you,” they said. “I will watch from above. Sadly, I can offer little aid. Even this descent was not easily done.”

To send the Holy Sword down had cost the gods dearly. To descend in person, even through a vessel, cost Hephaite more. The proof that it was not boasting showed as their borrowed body began to warp at the edges.

“Do not worry,” Ketal said. “I will see to it.”

“I would be grateful.” They had reached the end of the formal business. Hephaite did not yet depart. Holding on with effort, they spoke again. “In return for what you have already done, I will tell you one thing unrelated to our bargain. It’s about the axe you carry.”

They pointed at the jet-black axe that had been with Ketal since the White Snowfield.

“Do you know what it is?” Hephaite asked him.

“I do not,” Ketal replied, shaking his head. He still did not know the axe’s nature. “From your tone, it seems you know about my axe.”

“I do. It does not belong to this world. It is a sacred relic.”

“A sacred relic?”

“More precisely, it is a part of one,” they said. “Once, there was a being that hunted us with a zeal that surpassed all others. The fragment you hold is a piece of that being. It was among the oldest of the Oldest Ones.”

“None of the other gods mentioned this,” Ketal said, his eyes widening.

“There was no reason to tell you,” Hephaite said. “These days, most gods have forgotten.”

It had been strong, killing more gods and erasing more demons than any other, leaving behind more scars on the world than anything else.

“We called it the Abomination.”

“The Abomination?” Ketal repeated, tilting his head. He had heard the name somewhere before.

“It was overwhelming,” Hephaite said. “Its hatred for the world was absolute. To destroy it, gods and demons had to join forces. Even then, it was only after immense losses that we managed to bring it down. But we failed to finish the task and allowed a fragment of it to slip through our grasp. We feared it might one day resurface, but now you have claimed its remnant. That is a relief.”

“So this axe is part of that thing...” Ketal looked down at the axe with a complicated face. He had found it in the White Snowfield and put it to work. To learn it had once been a piece of that dreadful thing left him with an odd feeling.

“It is not strange that you have it,” Hephaite went on. “You are from the Inside. You are very strong. As it is now, I do not sense anything living inside the axe.”

“Wait, really?” the Holy Sword blurted. “But I can feel... something sleeping in there.”

“You are mistaken,” Hephaite told it. “All that remains is an empty husk. You mistook the shell for a living giant.”

The Holy Sword fell silent, stunned. What it had taken for a vast presence was nothing more than a shell. That meant whatever had once dwelt inside had been vast indeed.

“It is strange to see it again,” Hephaite said softly. “When did you find it?”

“A very long time ago. Back when I was weak. It helped me a great deal then.” Ketal had found the black axe not long after arriving in this world, lying abandoned in the snow.

Hephaite’s face tightened. “You picked it up while you were weak? And you suffered no consequence from it?”

“There was no problem at all.” Ketal looked genuinely puzzled as to what the issue might be, but Hephaite could not bring himself to see it as something so simple.

“That should be impossible,” they said. “Abomination was powerful. Even as a fragment, it would have had strength enough to kill most things. Unless you possessed the power of a Hero, you should not have been able to resist it. If you were truly weak, it would have devoured you and used you for mulch.”

Yet nothing of the sort had happened. Ketal had picked it up in his weakest days and swung it as if it were an ordinary weapon.

Hephaite studied him, and a strange feeling crept into their gaze.

“Are you truly a barbarian, Ketal? What kind of being are you, and where do you come from?”