Tucked deep in a back alley behind the Hephaestus Familia's headquarters, a forge roared to life—its chimney coughing out waves of shimmering heat.
CLANG—CLANG—CLANG—!
The rhythmic hammering rattled through the stone walls, echoing down the narrow street.
Seeing the workshop door open, Lucas rapped twice on the frame instead of barging in.
"Busy as ever, Tsubaki?"
"Huh? Lucas?"
The woman inside straightened from the blazing forge, setting down a hammer that looked like it could crush skulls by accident.
Tsubaki Collbrande—tanned skin, black hair, a single red eye gleaming beneath her eyepatch, dressed in loose eastern-style clothes—flashed him a wolfish grin.
"Well, look what the Dungeon dragged in. You cheapskate, you only show up when you've been taught a lesson by the monsters, huh?"
Lucas didn't even flinch. He was used to her brand of greeting.
"Hey, it's not stinginess, it's poverty." He shrugged easily. "If I had the coin, I wouldn't have had to scavenge that 'practice piece' you made from leftover scraps, right? Cut me some slack."
"Tch." Tsubaki planted a hand on her hip, rolling her eye. "Fine, fine. Out with it—what do you need this time?"
Lucas smiled faintly.
The infamous Cyclops, Tsubaki Collbrande, Level 4, Captain of the Hephaestus Familia.
Half-human, half-dwarf, she was one of Orario's top blacksmiths and a second-tier adventurer to boot. Every weapon she forged bore the Hephaestus signature—and fetched a price somewhere between "astronomical" and "don't even ask."
Lucas had met her by pure chance, years ago, when she was still Level 3 and selling her early practice works dirt cheap. He'd bought one for just 49,900 Valis—a miracle deal. Later, he came back for repairs, and over time, they'd become friendly in that blunt, "swear-at-each-other-but-still-help-out" way.
"Don't even mention it," Lucas said, shaking his head. "Ran into an Irregular in the Dungeon yesterday. Thought I was done for. Honestly, I owe my life to your armor. If it weren't for that, I'd be fertilizer by now."
Tsubaki waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Let's see the damage."
Lucas handed over the bundle of gear. She spread it out on the worktable and inspected it piece by piece.
"Yeesh. Look at all these gouges. Coating's burned off, lacquer's gone, edges warped—oh-ho, these claw marks…" Her finger traced a deep groove. "War Shadow, huh?"
Lucas blinked. "You can tell just from that?"
"Those claws leave a distinct bite pattern," she said, straightening with a sharp grin—then her expression shifted to mild disbelief. "Wait a sec. You went down to the sixth floor? I thought you stuck to four and five. What's gotten into you? Feeling bold?"
Lucas smiled awkwardly. "…Something like that."
"Eh, whatever. You've always got your reasons."
She picked up the torn gauntlet, frowning as she examined the split metal.
"This kind of damage… you sure it was from the sixth floor? Not the eleventh or twelfth? That's some nasty cutting power."
"It was an Irregular," Lucas explained. "Weird behavior, stronger than usual. Makes sense."
"Yeah, that tracks." She nodded, dropping the gauntlet back on the pile. "Alright. Leave it here. Come back in a few days. Repair fee's thirty thousand Valis."
"…Thirty thousand?" Lucas sighed and reached into his pack, pulling out his spoils from yesterday.
"Check these out. Tell me how much they're worth and take your cut from that. Oh, and… look into this one for me."
He pointed to the last item in the bundle—a jet-black claw.
Tsubaki's sharp eye flicked over the pieces.
"Three War Shadow Finger Blades, decent condition. Market buy-in's forty-five thousand total, maybe fifty apiece if you sell to an artisan. So… 150,000 total. Not bad."
She turned the strange black claw in her hand, brow furrowing.
"This one's… also a War Shadow Finger Blade? But it's different."
Lucas nodded. "Yeah. It dropped from a special variant. I named it the Anti-Magic War Shadow Finger Blade—you'll see why."
He explained what he'd seen—how it had sliced through his Magic like paper.
Tsubaki didn't even blink at the word "magic." Her focus was all on the claw.
"Anti-magic properties?" she muttered, eyes glinting. "Well, only one way to find out."
"Wait, hey—don't—Tsubaki!"
Before he could stop her, she grabbed a broken Magic Sword off a rack, swung it, and unleashed a burst of fire straight at her other hand—where she held the black claw.
The flame roared forward and was instantly split in two, the air itself parting as if cut by invisible shears.
Lucas froze.
Meanwhile, Tsubaki didn't even flinch as a few sparks landed on her arm, scorching her sleeve and reddening her skin.
This was Tsubaki Collbrande, after all. For a Level 4 adventurer, that kind of heat was barely a warm breeze.
"Yep. You weren't kidding." She gave a satisfied nod, turning the claw in her fingers. "It really does have anti-magic properties."
Then she sighed. "Shame it's low-grade. It'd hold up fine for Level 1s, but above that? It'll crumble under stress."
"Yeah, I figured," Lucas said. "Still, how much could it fetch?"
Tsubaki gave him a flat look. "…You really are obsessed with Valis, huh? Can't even appreciate you're holding a one-of-a-kind discovery."
"Price," Lucas repeated, deadpan.
She groaned, rubbing her temple. "Unbelievable. Fine. It's too brittle to use in actual weaponry, but its research value's through the roof. Tell you what—I'll grab the boss. She'll want to see this herself."
Lucas blinked. "Hephaestus herself? She's in the building?"
"Yeah. The Evilus situation's got the whole Familia on edge, so she's staying close to home for now."
That made sense. A goddess like Hephaestus, who supplied half of Orario's adventuring community with weapons, was practically a strategic asset. Losing her would shake the city's foundation.
Tsubaki disappeared into the hallway.
A few minutes later, she returned—followed by a woman who radiated quiet authority.
Hephaestus was unmistakable. Her short, wavy crimson hair shimmered under the forge light; an eyepatch covered her left eye, matching Tsubaki's. She wore a simple white blouse and black slacks tucked into tall leather boots, but her presence alone filled the room.
It wasn't the divinity that struck Lucas so much as the poise—a mix of strength and serenity that felt like standing in front of living flame.
"Lady Hephaestus."
Lucas immediately stood, hand over heart, and bowed deeply.
"So you're Lucas," she said. Her voice was smooth, carrying a quiet gravity. "The lucky one who bought Tsubaki's work for pocket change."
"Uh…" He grimaced, scratching his cheek. "Yeah. Not my proudest brag. And for the record, I've been cursed ever since. Haven't seen a single good Drop Item in two months."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Balance in all things, I suppose."
Then her expression sobered. "Tsubaki showed me the claw. Its anti-magic property is genuine—and extremely dangerous. It's fortunate this material ended up in your hands instead of Evilus. In theirs, it could've spelled disaster for low-level mages across the city."
She paused, considering something—then named her price.
"Thirty million Valis. Or, if you prefer, I'll allow you to commission one custom weapon of equivalent value."
Lucas froze.
"...Thirty . Million."
He didn't even breathe. His knees went weak. His entire soul screamed holy shit.
For a long, stunned second, he could only stare at her, mind blank—then his jaw dropped.
"…I think I just ascended."