Chapter 15: The Dawn of a New Blade

As Yunajin looked up to see a wisp of flame ascend from the depths of the furnace, she noticed a considerable number of Minotaurs had already congregated around her.

“Truly, only Miss Moore could coax such exquisite sparks from this ancient behemoth; I’ve never witnessed anything quite like it before.”

“Scarcely anyone, save for the patriarch himself, ever dares to use this furnace for their craft…”

“Yet, for the Demon Lord’s weapon, such a risk is undoubtedly warranted.”

The Minotaurs, gathered in admiration, were effusive in their praise for Moore, and even Lord Crossell’s gaze, previously clouded, now shone with a newfound clarity.

“It must be nearly complete,” Meredith observed.

“Indeed, almost there,” came the reply.

A deep rumble echoed forth—

The archaic furnace emitted a prolonged, profound roar, as if a fire giant, long dormant beneath a volcano, was stirring from its slumber, its primordial flames poised to burst forth.

“In truth, even before the Demon Lord’s arrival, this very furnace had been operating ceaselessly for eighty-one days and nights,” Crossell explained. “Only a forging crucible, a true relic from the ancient epoch, could endure such an extreme regimen.”

Lord Crossell elucidated in a low, grave tone: “Unlike common furnaces, this one magnifies the fire elemental magic infused within it, enhancing its might by nearly a hundredfold. It is exceedingly difficult to control and grasp, and even with absolute focus, one might not endure for a full month.”

“Yet, your daughter has accomplished it.”

“That must be a level of ‘absolute concentration’ that far transcends what ordinary individuals are capable of,” Qiaolun’s voice suddenly resonated from behind Meredith and Lord Crossell, as he interjected, having overheard their exchange.

Meredith merely cast an indifferent glance his way, offering no words.

“The Demon Lord’s Armament was completed a month ago, young man. The fate of your weapon is not precisely as my daughter stated. Quite the opposite; she intends to utilize these final materials to augment its capabilities.”

“Whether it’s enhanced or not is of no consequence; the original will suffice,” Qiaolun declared nonchalantly. For him, the mere ability to harm the Demon Lord, thereby creating a possibility of slaying her, was more than enough.

“You’ll see when the time comes. Perhaps you might even find it to your liking.”

Lord Crossell offered a knowing smile.

The ground beneath them shuddered violently.

Qiaolun lost his balance, his legs giving way beneath him as he began to topple.

‘Damn it, what’s happening?’

Immediately, a pair of soft hands gently steadied his back.

“Do be careful, Lord Hero.”

It was Yunajin, who had caught Qiaolun just as he was about to collapse.

“I’m perfectly fine!” Qiaolun exclaimed, pushing her hand away, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Oh…”

Observing his reaction, Yunajin’s lips curved into a subtle smile.

‘Hehe, he’s shy, isn’t he?’

‘Once he retrieves his weapon, he’ll surely challenge me to a fight. If the Demon Lord’s Armament truly limits my power, then perhaps I won’t accidentally kill Lord Hero. Yes, I’m certain I won’t.’

The powers wielded by past Demon Kings were never truly comprehensive; they invariably pursued ultimate might, deliberately honing specific talents. Yunajin was no exception to this trend. Meredith’s assessment of her proclaimed her to possess ‘the strongest body and purest power among all demons.’ Consequently, Yunajin frequently found herself unable to regulate her immense strength during combat. On one memorable occasion, simply due to the sheer tedium of a document presented to her, a momentary burst of frustration led her to inadvertently shatter half of the Demon Lord’s castle with a single punch.

Yunajin’s formidable constitution extended far beyond mere physical prowess; any magic directed at her proved entirely ineffectual. This near-immunity to magical influence was a trait so rare that perhaps only dragons or otherworldly races, long steeped in magical erosion, could hope to rival it.

Silence—this was yet another unique talent possessed by Yunajin, the Fifth Demon Lord.

Within the domain she unleashed, all forms of magic, including barriers and curses, were rendered utterly inert.

The Demon Lord’s Armament was designed to curb this specific power, as Yunajin had not yet mastered controlling the precise size of her domain’s expansion, nor could she retract or deploy it with complete fluidity.

“This… this furnace isn’t about to explode, is it?!”

“What nonsense! With such immense magical power, an actual explosion would be no laughing matter.”

Lord Crossell’s gaze swept over the gathered crowd, a fleeting hint of disappointment clouding his eyes.

These unruly youths of the Steelhoof Tribe, lacking the discipline of their forebears, were all too easily diverted by their environment.

“Brats! Get back to your forging stations, all of you! Where are your parents?!”

Lord Crossell roared, and in response, a throng of towering, mature-faced Minotaurs swiftly scooped up their respective children and began to disperse.

Yunajin observed the young Minotaurs being led away, one after another. Despite their sturdy builds, they appeared like mere dolls in their parents’ grasp, a truly comical sight.

‘It seems that no matter the world, adolescents who have yet to mature are still subject to their parents’ guidance.’

The sense of déjà vu was potent, yet strangely, she herself held little personal experience of it.

‘Family?’

A peculiar void welled up within her heart.

“Ah, I haven’t enjoyed such a restful sleep in more than two months!”

“When did you even appear?!”

Moore materialized beside Yunajin without the slightest warning. She stretched languidly, her abdomen revealing graceful muscular contours, while her bronze skin shimmered with enhanced vitality under the flickering firelight.

‘Woah~’

‘Perhaps I should take up exercising too?’

Yunajin stole a glance at Moore’s sculpted physique, then covertly pinched her own slightly soft stomach, a sudden surge of self-consciousness washing over her.

“Open the furnace, gather the flames!”

Moore made a sweeping, grasping motion towards the fiercely burning furnace. As if responding to an unseen summons, the flames within parted the opening and surged forth in a torrent.

“Incredible… truly incredible, so powerful!”

Qiaolun found himself praising involuntarily, his eyes fixed on the dancing flames that swirled ceaselessly under the newcomer’s command. Even a single wisp among them held enough heat to instantly melt steel.

A tangible magical essence adhered to the surface of the blazing inferno; Qiaolun could discern that this was not fire merely conjured by Moore’s spells, but actual, substantive sparks.

How had she achieved this?

Before Qiaolun’s astonishment and queries could fully subside, the subsequent spectacle would reveal to this hero, hailing from humanity’s grandest and most flourishing nation, the truly astonishing forging techniques of the demon race.

The golden-red flames, influenced by potent magic, gradually transmuted into a dazzling silver luminescence, akin to the first brilliant flash of dawn that shatters the receding night, bathing the dim subterranean cavern in the light of day.

The King of Vampires, Edesbond, calmly draped his cloak about himself. Though his kind had long since overcome their vulnerability to sunlight, facing it still evoked a faint, primal unease.

“Is this truly to be considered the Demon Lord’s weapon?” he uttered, a subtle flicker of disdain crossing his usually impassive, cold features.

A sharp clang resounded—

The silver-white blade emanated a halo reminiscent of the dawn, and a crisp, resonant metallic chime echoed as it was plunged into the unyielding rock of the earth, like a goddess’s whispered sigh.

“This is wonderful, truly wonderful! I love it!”

Yunajin greedily wiped the corners of her mouth.

‘Damn it, why do I always drool uncontrollably when I genuinely desire something?’

‘But this sword is truly stunning, wow! This…’

Alas, our esteemed Demon Lord’s cultural refinement proved insufficient for the occasion, leaving her only capable of a single, heartfelt exclamation—

‘Holy cow!’

‘Elegant, so utterly elegant!’

Just as Yunajin prepared to grasp the silver-white blade, Moore preempted her, snatching it first before casually tossing it to Qiaolun, who stood a considerable distance away.

“Human, this is your sword!”

“What?” Qiaolun exclaimed in shock, catching the sword. A familiar sensation coursed through his palm, and a gentle warmth still lingered on the blade.

Indeed, though its external appearance seemed to differ from his memory, Qiaolun could sense that this was still the same sword, his companion through countless battles and adventures.

Unfortunately, his old friend had no name.

Moore addressed Qiaolun: “The bond between you two has forged its soul, which is why I can hear its voice.”

“Dawn’s Hymn. It greatly approves of this name.”

“Did you name it?”

“Mhm~”

Qiaolun’s fingers traced the smooth, delicate blade, its pristine luster akin to a maiden’s skin. Yunajin blinked, her eyes wide with undisguised envy.

“Thank you for your trouble,” Qiaolun said, offering his gratitude to Moore. He then cast a deep glance at Yunajin, the hostility and wariness in his eyes having noticeably diminished.

“Since you have repaired this human’s weapon, where then is the Demon Lord’s Armament?” Almilina, the purple-haired succubus, fixed her gaze upon Moore, her low words tinged with exasperation.

“Your Majesty,” Moore responded, opening the now extinguished furnace with a sheepish expression. She pointed to the faint red embers within, saying, “Your sword is in there. You see… it’s quite heavy, and I couldn’t retrieve it.”

The weapon, custom-made for the Fifth Demon Lord, was designed to meet her exact specifications for size and formidable weight, a feat that had cost Moore considerable effort.

Yunajin bent down, peering into the dark bottom of the furnace, then, to everyone’s surprise, directly crawled inside.

“Your Majesty, what are you…”

“Moore Ironmountain, do you think I don’t know? This is the exit you often use to clean out the ash! How dare you insult the Demon Lord!” Andros Chimera cried out, stomping his foot in agitation, causing the entire cavern to shake even more violently than during the forging process itself.

“I dare say no one present could lift that sword without the aid of magic,” Moore calmly explained, unperturbed. “The Demon Lord’s Armament I forged also possesses a partial ability to nullify magic. Only the Demon Lord herself has the strength and the right to wield that ‘Twilight’s Elegy’.”