That was how several days passed.
During the day… I heated and quenched, and at night I passed out from Dolores's special refrigerated bread.
The translucent, soft red silk piled up day by day.
My welfare also improved day by day.
Meals were delivered for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Not only did I sleep at night, but because Dolores forced me to sleep, I ended up taking naps too.
She said she only came when I was tired… but now she just came whenever and hugged me.
Then one day, when I looked at Dolores, who had come too early, with a sullen expression, she panicked and took a piece of paper from her bosom.
"I came to show you the reaction to Lionel's gloves."
She must have saved it in her bosom in case I got sullen.
The final winning bid was 170,000 Gold.
It was 1.7 billion.
"As equipment for guilds, knight orders, Climbing Team families, and early climbers, it can be called the best of humanity… so it seems the price came out high."
"Whoa."
When I admired it, Dolores covered her mouth and asked.
"Puhuhu, do you want to sell it?"
"Hmm…."
I touched my chin and thought it over.
"No."
There would be a better use for it. Though I had unintentionally become an Auction House show-off, I didn't want to sell it yet.
Anyway, time passed like that.
Before I knew it.
"Yuna, do you know a mast? A mast?"
I curled up the corners of my mouth and peeled off the last layer of the ore.
It barely comes out now.
The Flame Ore, which had been only two fists big, had now changed until only an ant-sized red glass bead, formed from condensed internal mana, remained.
This one is now scheduled to become a topping.
The final jewel topping to be sprinkled on the overshoes.
"Let's go."
Now it was time to return to the Sun Dwarves.
The precious translucent red silks were piled up softly.
Now I had to craft this into thermal overshoes.
However.
I hesitated to refer directly to the existing Apprentice Thermal Overshoe recipe.
"So ugly…."
Maybe it was designed to be worn inside large shoes.
There was no sense of aesthetics at all. A crude and dull feel? It seemed to care only about function.
Of course, even if only the materials changed, it would improve in several ways, but was I going to give something like this to Lady Dolores as a gift?
No way.
"Isn't there something better…?"
The textbook I was reading now was… a beginner's textbook for Apprentice Blacksmiths.
It was true that staying faithful to the basics was enough. But I wanted to aim higher.
[I'm looking into it… but something like an advanced course? I don't see anything like that.]
"Is that so?"
That's a little questionable.
Then, while I was rummaging through the textbook haphazardly.
"……?"
The last page of the apprentice textbook.
In that corner, a short phrase was written.
[You cannot advance by merely learning.]
[If you have walked a path made by someone else until now, now pioneer your own path.]
"…… This."
The moment I saw it, I felt I understood what it meant.
If I had melted the theory into my head and trained the basics until they were embodied in my body….
In other words, the Sun Dwarves' detail and principles.
If I could practice all of that throughout the entire process….
Was there any reason to stand on a recipe someone had made for Apprentice Blacksmiths?
"………."
Swoosh.
I spread the red silk I had extracted over several days across the workbench.
Keep the detail as it is.
The basics, the principles. Engrave them into your body.
But I will make my own path.
Actually, I am a complete layman when it comes to aesthetics.
And I'm not even a female character from some subculture gacha game, so when it comes to clothing, even more so.
But there's no need to worry.
"Yuna, what do you think is the prettiest stocking?"
[Huh?! My taste?]
Her tension suddenly shot up.
To be precise, it wasn't Yuna's taste, just what was aesthetically superior.
It would probably be similar.
If you lack aesthetic sense, you can ask someone who has it.
And Yuna's aesthetic sense could actually be considered the strongest in humanity.
Because she had learned and held information on every fashion trend that had ever existed in the world.
You could call her a sea of data.
[Hmm… Me, you see?]
I waited a moment.
[I think there are three common elements of pretty stockings.]
[First, transparency; second, the ankle line; third—whether men like them.]
"Wha—what are you saying all of a sudden?"
[I'm serious. This isn't something I made up; there's actually a saying like this.]
Is this for real?
I flinched for a moment.
Then I opened the stocking manufacturing process Yuna had sent.
If there were no machines, just how was it supposed to be done?
And I was left speechless.
"…So I have to do this by hand."
An infinite repetition made of needle and cloth.
Looking back, it was funny. When I heard blacksmith, I had imagined only heating and hammering metal.
You know, those burly forearms and stuff.
But a blacksmith had to be able to take responsibility for places a bit deeper than I had thought.
Counting stitches the size of a needle's eye all night long.
"Do it. Just do it."
Yeah, damn it. There's nothing I can't do.
And so… my first hell began.
I don't want to describe every process in detail.
Even my own head goes dizzy.
One stitch. Another stitch. I unraveled the translucent silk into thread and hung it on the needle's tip.
Then I knitted up a tube. What was truly fortunate was that the cloth tore along the grain and unraveled into thread well.
"Ah, damn it."
Just when it seemed to be progressing, the grain went wrong, so I unraveled it again.
I kept tearing it out to reproduce the perfect angle of Dolores's heel.
My eyes grew blurry… and the sensation in my fingertips collapsed.
Tap.
Tap.
I even stopped counting how many nights had passed.
It was harder than any work I had done until now.
Because it was such an honest process, I didn't even dare think of skipping it.
"No knitting machine? A knitting machine?!"
[Yeah….]
Unfortunately, there was no machine to do the stitching for me.
"I'm going to focus like crazy—no matter what happens, don't ever talk to me, got it, Yuna?"
[Yeah…….]
"Am I maybe a little sensitive?"
[A little….]
"Yeah, I love you too."
Just like that.
Two weeks passed.
***
"Heh heh."
The sinister mage, Isabella.
"How dare you send me flying all the way to the border region?"
Due to Dolores's forced repatriation magic, she had flown truly, truly far away.
She had spent a while swallowing her anger inside. At last, she succeeded in returning.
Also, since she wasn't harsh by nature, taking her anger out on someone was impossible.
She even succeeded in sneaking quietly into the mansion.
Actually. She had gotten in, but.
Honestly, she was a bit scared.
"……."
From her perspective, Dolores was still someone frightening when angry.
She had waited nearby, then entered in an instant when she saw her go out.
The barrier magic had also become about 20 times stricter than before.
It had consumed quite a lot of mental power to break through.
"Ugh, scary woman."
She just wanted to see Lionel's face and leave. Casually.
While swallowing her anger, she had also slightly improved the opening.
What kind of Evaluation would he give? It felt like showing a newly made spell to an old master and waiting for their critique.
As soon as she entered the mansion like that, what caught her eye was.
[If you take Lionel, you die.]
[You might really die.]
[Your longtime colleague and friend, Elysia von Dolores.]
"Eek…."
It was magic embroidery engraved in the air of the mansion.
Letters engraved throughout the mansion so that only a mage of her level could recognize them.
They had been prepared in case someone broke through the barrier magic and entered.
"She's really too scary… But still, at least she calls me a friend."
Just then, as she crossed the mansion clicking her tongue and trembling.
Uwaaaah!
"……?"
Suddenly, a scream came from the wooden hut far off in the garden.
It was a male voice, but quite young.
Anyone could tell this was….
"Lionel!"
Isabella ran toward it in an instant.
Normally, she would have loathed even a single blade of grass sticking to her skirt, but.
At least in this moment, she held up the hem of her skirt with both hands.
Todododo.
She opened the Workshop door just like that.
"……?"
And the interior scenery that came into view.
She had thought it was an ordinary storeroom, but what caught her eye was….
A forge, ore, a hammer, a Cooling Bath.
And on the side table, a rather pretty—no, an incredibly pretty—stocking….
Stitch by stitch. Carefully sewing it….
"Lionel?!"
In that moment.
Isabella's thoughts accelerated.
The scattered pieces were threaded into a single line.
"You… really… the gloves…?"
Isabella's lips slowly curled upward.
She lowered the hands that had been clutching both sides of her skirt.
Thump, thump, thump!
She hopped around the Workshop.
If that were the case, the story would be completely different.
Even a single chess piece had that much value. If those gloves really were Lionel's, then.
Tap!
Isabella pointed her finger forcefully at Lionel.
"Lionel, you, become my disciple!"
It was worth even enduring Dolores's death threats.
Before her, who had declared it so confidently.
Lionel.
"……I want to die."
"……?"
He expressed his will to live.
"Shit… ah, I told you not to curse… dammit…."
"……Huh? Me…?"
Without even glancing her way.
He was pouring all his attention into knitting the stocking's stitches.
"Lionel…?"
"……."
"Um, Lionel… disciple…."
She called a few more times like that, but Lionel did not answer.
About 10 minutes passed.
Until now, she had received countless offers to take people as disciples.
She had been tired of receiving love calls begging her to please share just a bit of knowledge.
Yet Isabella had never once reached out her hand.
And that precious first offer of hers….
"Hngg…."
The finger she had extended lost its place and dropped.
"That's too mean…."
In the end, Isabella hung her head low.
She trudged out of the Workshop.
And then.
"Lady Isabella?!"
Sebas, who had been crossing the garden, spotted her and ran over in alarm.
"Wha—what brings you all the way here…! When…."
"… I'm going to go."
"Pardon…?"
"I just want to go…."
Isabella did not even answer the head butler's question.
Sniff.
Whimpering… she left the mansion alone.
***
Two weeks passed.
My body is screaming.
But today, I wasn't sensitive.
"Yuna? Good morning."
Really, only the last stitch remained.
[……You really have a lot to say, oppa.]
"Yeah, just let me finish making this."
I knitted the last stitch.
And then.
"Done!!!!"
Finally, I shed all the cloth and wove it into a single overshoe—that is, a stocking.
From toe to ankle.
The deep red grain flowed like water, and a faint heat shimmered over the thinly knitted surface.
When light shone on it, the interior showed through transparently, and when the angle changed, the luster came alive again.
Actually, it shouldn't have taken this long.
I added one function.
So that when folded it becomes a sock, and when stretched it becomes a stocking.
Because I included even that insane function, it inevitably took more time.
Of course, all the recipes were pulled from inside Yuna's head.
And on the side table.
The core of the last remaining Flame Ore, a deep red bead, was waiting for the final process.
"…Pretty."
The Flame Ore, shrunk to its limit.
All I had to do was place this on the stocking.
My hands are trembling.
After all, I had run for two weeks straight, squeezing out every ounce of strength. It was only natural.
Tap.
With trembling fingertips. I placed the bead on the end of the stocking.
As if the cloths of the surface peeled away by Thermal Shock Exfoliation had found their home.
They began to be sucked smoothly toward the glass bead.
Each strand of red thread gently wrapped around the jewel and wove itself in.
Rustle….
And the cloth and bead, before anyone noticed, as if they had been that way from the beginning.
Fit together without a single gap.
"……Ha."
Now the truly final process.
I picked up the completed stocking and stepped outside the Workshop.
"……."
I can't breathe well.
This creation.
For the first time, I had not referred to the Dwarves' recipe.
I held in my hands only the detail I had learned from them, applied the blade, and knitted the stitches.
In only my own way, I packed in detail, detail, and more detail.
With the Dwarven spirit, I walked my own path.
Then, a question arises here.
Was I truly a Sun Dwarf?
Would they acknowledge this equipment?
"……."
In the center of the garden where sunlight fell best.
I placed the stocking on both hands and raised it into the air.
I shut my eyes tight.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Time passes.
Normally, the Mark would have been engraved before long.
However, even after waiting several minutes….
No sound at all could be heard.
"…… So it's no good."
I nodded.
Yeah, I can just do it again.
Forcing myself to soothe my heart. I opened my eyes.
And then.
"……."
Before my eyes, a rectangular panel blazing with golden light was floating.
And in its center.
A familiar Mark was engraved.
The Apprentice Blacksmith Mark of the Descendant of Fire.
A form of the sun with eight flames extending outward.
According to the explanation, it was the first symbol engraved by one who forges the sun.
"……."
As if entranced.
I stretched out my finger.
Then.
Whirr….
Along my index fingertip. A golden thread began to draw a trajectory in the air.
Light flows along my fingertip just like that.
'… No way.'
A single name naturally came to mind.
Lionel.
I crossed over the Sun Emblem on the panel.
And slowly drew a stroke beneath it.
L.
The first letter of my name.
Bzzzt—!
In that moment.
Golden light burst from the tip of the completed stocking.
The Mark I had just drawn.
The sun, and the L engraved beneath it.
On the red silk, it was clearly engraved, holding a golden light.
-----------------------------
[Frostless Spring][★★☆☆☆]
[Unique Equipment] [Compatibility][-/60]
-----------------------------
When folded, it becomes the warmth of midwinter.
When stretched up, it becomes the shimmering heat of midsummer.
Two seasons, contained in a single pair.
-----------------------------
[Do not doubt the path you walk, but do not be intoxicated by the path you have walked.
── That is the first pride of one who handles fire.]
- A tribute sent by the Sun to Formal Blacksmith L -
-----------------------------
The first 2-star equipment I made. And written below it, Formal Blacksmith L.
I looked up at those words floating in the air for a long while.
Together with the joy of being acknowledged as a Descendant of Fire.
I raised both hands and clenched my fists.
Without thinking, my hands entered my sight.
"They're a mess."
Scraped here and there. Marks of needle pricks were plentiful.
On top of calluses, more calluses had been layered.
It doesn't feel bad at all.
Because I wasn't ashamed.
I curled up the corners of my mouth and gripped the stocking.
Dolores.
For two weeks, she had come and gone through the mansion on unsteady feet.
For two weeks, someone who had lost sleep at night because of someone, and who had wet the corners of her eyes several times trying to put someone to sleep.
To that person.
I.
Intended to gift spring.