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EP 46 The Dragon’s Heart (1)

 

 

“What do you mean, the dragon’s heart?” Ian asked as he landed gently on the ground.

The question was for all the five artisans who had gathered on the island.

“This is the first time we’ve experienced something like this….”

Just then, Berthold, the oldest of the artisans, stepped forward.

He took the heart and turned it around in his hands .

“Mmmmm…” he murmured.

The other artisans did the same, looking at the heart carefully in their own way, perhaps because it was an object they had only heard of.

They were all cautious as if holding a newborn.

“It’s really the heart. Don’t you think so?”

“Mmmmhmmmm. Although we can’t be sure.”

“Look at this. It holds the power of mana on its own.”

 

The artisans seemed to be looking at the heart forever.

They each gave their opinion, and the majority of them commented it was phenomenal and shocking.

All except one.

“Step aside, all of you. Let me try something.” She requested.

Halia, the head artisan, was a step away from the circle of artisans looking at the heart.

Before anyone noticed, she had reappeared with her prized possession – a sword.

 

“Halia, what are you trying to do…?”

“I need to check something.”

“Check what?”

Halia didn’t respond.

Instead, she lifted her sword over her head.

“If it really is the dragon heart…” She brought her sword down on the dragon’s heart with full strength. “… this wouldn’t be a problem!” It was a silly but fair reason.

 

Halia’s sword rang with a loud KANG! and bounced off the heart, which was surprising but an expected result.

The sword hadn’t even left a mark on the heart.

“Uggh!” Halia stumbled back at the aftereffect. She wasn’t concerned about the heart at all and looked at her sword carefully.

“Perfect.” She said and nodded as if she were satisfied. No wonder. Halia’s sword was her masterpiece.

“Well, that’s the dragon’s heart alright.”

“What makes you so sure?” Berthold asked.

“My sword didn’t even make a scratch on it.”

“Mmmm…”

“If we were to talk about the density, it’s higher than that of adamant.”

 

Adamant. It was the type of mineral any artisan dreamed of working on. It was often called the ‘perfect mineral of no crevice’. According to Halia, the heart was denser than adamant.

“I can break adamant with this sword you know.” Halia said proudly, and everyone’s attention turned to the sword.

A sword that could break adamant?

“What a treasure you’ve made there.” Berthold complimented.

“This is nothing.” Halia replied with a snort.

Just then, the jeweler Dennis spoke up. “The heck with density,” he murmured. He had been stroking the heart in his hands for a while now.

He was clearly impressed.

“You’re all missing the point here.”

The artisans all frowned at his words.

Were they all not at their zenith of their skills as artisans? But he was saying they were all missing the point now.

“What are you talking about?” Berthold asked, sensing the atmosphere immediately and took the initiative to ask Dennis to ease the tension.

“Look at this, if you’ve got eyes.”

“Well… all of us have been looking at it all this time.”

“Can’t you sense it’s physical beauty?”

“Well clearly, it holds mana..”

“No, no no. Not the useless stuff like that.”

“Then…”

“I’m talking about its shape – exactly the way you see it.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure.”

The object, which was guessed to be the dragon’s heart, was in shape of a large sphere.

It was capable of creating and saving mana on its own.

It was even perfectly black, without the slightest mark.

It was most definitely a great and godly object.

However, there wasn’t anything else to see.

“I’m not sure…”

“Look at how black it is!”

“Black?”

“It doesn’t even glitter!”

Berthold, who had been listening intently, grew silent.

Halia and Zerbio also shook their heads.

Clevan was the only one who blinked in confusion.

“Look at how perfectly black the heart is and doesn’t even glitter!” The jeweler Dennis exclaimed. He had a preference for dense minerals.

“Would it be even possible to carve with this?”

The artisans continued to examine the heart. First Clevan took a hammer and chisel and started pounding the heart. Of course, there was no possibility of the heart being used for carving. After all, wasn’t it denser than adamant? Not only be difficult to carve, but difficult to manufacture.

“Unless it was made of wood…” the carpenter Zerbio shook his head doubtfully. In his eyes, the heart was simply a black substance. He had no idea where it could be used. All he knew was that it would never be used for woodwork.

 

“What do you think?” Zerbio asked Berthold.

“I’m thinking the same thing.”

Berthold was only a seamstress. He was clueless unless it came to a thread, needle, and cloth. It was his first time seeing a dragon heart.

“I haven’t the slightest clue.”

 

They were aware the object created mana. They even understood mana accumulated within the heart. They had also found out that it was sturdier than adamant. It was a tremendous object for sure, but the issue was its ‘efficacy’, as it was large and heavy.

 

“Here’s what I think…” Berthold slowly spoke up, “I think we need the help of that fellow.” Apparently, he was referring to someone among the three artisans who had not arrived yet.

“He can definitely help us..”

“He’s not an artisan! He’s just a mechanic!” Dennis protested.

“Are you talking about Siram?” the others asked.

“Did you say Siram?” Cleven asked. It was a name familiar to Ian as well.

“Huh? Ah, yes! Siram. Mr. Siram.”

Mr. Siram. The master of the greatest technical workshop in all of Greenriver. The ‘Siram Workshop’ was where Ian had bought his cable tunnel. Wasn’t the owner’s name ‘Siram’?

 

‘Now that I think of it…’ Ian remembered the first impression he’d had of Siram.

He was a dark-haired man, just like these artisans of Knocking Island, which was not common in Greenriver.

‘I’m positive he used to age in my past life.’

Not the present life, but the past life.

Translations by AsianHobbyist Website.

The Siram he remembered from then aged with time. An immortal man aging?

‘I suppose he could have disguised himself.’

It wasn’t necessary to keep his mind into it. After all, they were all magicians in a way. Wouldn’t they have various ways to appear how ever they wanted?

 

“And… what exactly does Siram do…?”

“That fellow is a little different from the rest of us.” Berthold answered.

“He isn’t limited to one field. We used to call him an inventor.”

“He is not an inventor for crying out loud! He’s a mechanic! A mechanic!” Halia shouted.

Berthold ignored her

What he said next clarified Ian’s suspicions.

“Although… he did want to be called a technician.”

“A technician?”

“Why yes. A mage technician.”

 

The mage technician Siram.

Ian was positive who he could be.

Then, Ian spoke up, confident. “I happen to know – “

 

Just then, a small portal opened in the middle of the temple of Knocking Island, where all the masterpieces of the artisans were gathered.

VRRRRROOOOM

Everyone realized where the sound was coming from, thanks to its loud noise. Ian looked on warily, but the artisans didn’t look bothered at all.

“Oooh.” They said as if this was usual sight. After all, they had arrived on this island the same way, except for Ian and Cleven.

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