Chapter 218 - The Last Flame

Phrontenium.

Named after Phrontesis, the Aspect of Protection and Stone, it was an ore that only he could work.

And now even he could no longer do so.

Startled, Valdrova asked him, "Has something happened?"

"Well... the fire in the furnace of the Primordial Forge is growing weaker..."

The Primordial Forge, created with the power of fire and the lava flowing deep beneath the earth.

"That flame? Isn't it still incredibly strong, even if it's weakened?"

"Strong? Of course it is! Steel and other trifles still melt easily enough... but not Phrontenium. Not anymore. I've tried to melt it time and again, but it wouldn't heat up in the slightest."

"Oh, no..."

"I can't bear this sober. I need a drink. Could you bring me some liquor?"

"I have it ready."

As though she had anticipated the request, Luri handed him an entire bottle. Phrontesis hurriedly uncorked it and tried to wash down the disgust he had been chewing over. Once he seemed somewhat calmer, he continued.

"The truth is, I knew the furnace's flame was gradually weakening. Nothing can remain unchanged. That law has held since the beginning of all things."

"But does it matter? You said you wouldn't make any more weapons from Phrontenium..."

"That was because it was my choice. Now, even if I wanted to, I no longer have the ability."

Choosing not to do something, and being unable to do it.

Phrontesis was so despondent because he could see himself growing increasingly incapable.

"That Demon-hunting madman."

Another name for Alberto.

"When he came to me, I thought it truly was my last chance to work Phrontenium. But... you need only look at that armor. None of its radiant color remains. It's all rippled where it failed to melt properly, an immensely heavy, unstable lump of rock! A piece of rubbish no one would ever believe I'd made!"

Phrontesis gulped down his liquor, trying to swallow his bitterness.

"That was when I knew. I really had become a useless fool."

"..."

"That damn bastard. I didn't even like the way he asked. His ambition to slaughter every last Demon swayed me into accepting... But when I couldn't work it properly, he even asked whether I'd give him the last flame."

Phrontesis's face twisted into a fierce scowl.

"It still infuriates me, that wretched bastard! I'll go right now and smash his skull...!"

"Calm down."

He picked up the hammer he had set aside and began huffing with rage again. Valdrova soothed him.

As soon as his anger subsided, his face became that of a despondent old man once more. Not wanting her to see him like that, he covered his face.

"My time is over. I was a dragon whose only talent was making a weapon from the ore that bore my name. Now I don't even have that. I'm just a great fat, lazy lizard playing king."

Phrontesis heaved a deep sigh and continued.

"At any rate... the Primordial Furnace won't be able to melt the Phrontenium."

"Hmm..."

"Damn it, nothing goes right. My lovely Valdrova has found the courage to step out into the world again, and there's nothing I can do for her."

Valdrova seemed to ponder something before speaking.

"Phrontesis."

"What is it?"

"One last time... would just once be enough?"

Phrontesis raised his head at her question. He seemed to understand what she meant, and his face took on the look of someone who had found a glimmer of hope.

"Valdrova... you don't mean..."

"Would one last time be enough, Phrontesis?"

"Of course. Of course it would! Just one last time."

Ferda could guess what she was offering, and why Phrontesis had reacted that way.

The Primordial Furnace could melt Phrontenium. Valdrova was the Aspect of Power and Fire. That meant her flames rivaled, or even surpassed, the heat of the furnace in the Primordial Forge.

"All right. Let's do it."

Valdrova nodded quietly. All worry and gloom vanished from Phrontesis's face.

"I'll make preparations at once! You there, Valdrova's fiancé!"

He pointed at Ferda.

"Yes, sir?"

"Go tell that accursed piece of filth to bring every bit of Phrontenium he's wearing! I'll be refining it properly to a high purity, so I'll need all of it! If he tries to refuse, beat him to death!"

"Understood."

Ferda relayed Phrontesis's message to Alberto, who obediently stripped off all the armor and handed it over.

The thick armor had suited his name as the walking fortress. Now he looked no different from an ordinary heavy cavalryman. He seemed unconcerned by the change. He had only one goal, and it alone occupied his mind.

The collected Phrontenium was taken deep into Valdrova's lair. Her quarters had been transformed into a makeshift forge in no time. Burnel and the castle's blacksmiths were there as well.

"So I need only pour it into this mold?"

"Th-that's right."

"Good. You've rekindled my enthusiasm, young mortals!"

Burnel and the blacksmiths were dumbfounded. Burnel was surprised to find himself far more comfortable than expected in a dragon's presence. Apart from the horns on his head, Phrontesis looked like a very large dwarf.

The blacksmiths, on the other hand, looked ready to faint. Phrontesis was counted among the Gods of Smiths, and that very god was here, handling their work.

"Now, everyone not involved, out! The greatest work you mortals will ever experience is about to begin!"

He was so exuberant that it was hard to believe he had been steeped in gloom only moments before. Watching his newfound vigor, Valdrova quietly turned to Ferda.

"Would you like to watch, Ferda?" she asked. "It could be dangerous."

"Even so, I'd like to watch if I can."

"All right. Luri."

"Understood."

Luri summoned fierce winds to encircle them, all but isolating their space from the surroundings.

"Hmm..." She let out an uncertain breath, then asked Ferda, "Master Ferda, do you know any frost spells?"

"A few."

"Then please use them. This alone won't be enough for you to withstand it."

"How strong should I make them?"

She answered, "Strong enough to freeze yourself solid."

A short while later, it became clear that she had not been exaggerating.

Valdrova returned to her true form. Now a colossal dragon, she gazed down at the vessel containing the Phrontenium.

Ferda tried to anticipate what would happen next. She would unleash a searing Breath and melt all the Phrontenium.

That was what he expected, but he was utterly wrong.

Her head lowered toward the vessel, her mouth slightly open.

There was a tiny, jewel-like light, only the size of a thumb. It was on an entirely different level from the flames in her belly that shifted between yellow and red. It was as though she had drawn down the distant sun, and that sun fell into the center of the mass of Phrontenium.

WHOOSH!!

The vessel's contents instantly blazed, radiating heat.

"Ugh."

Ferda's frost-covered, shivering body warmed in an instant. Just as quickly, that warmth became a scorching heat that threatened to burn him alive.

It was that intense even with the large vessel redirecting the heat to help him endure it, and every kind of blocking magic in place.

Ferda increased the power of his spells, truly intent on freezing himself, and kept his eyes wide open.

It was well worth the risk. Here, he could witness her pure power, something he had never seen before.

"Good!"

Phrontesis began the casting process. He repeatedly plunged his hands into the vessel and drew them out, ensuring the metal melted evenly.

The rocklike lumps of armor softened and melted, beginning to shine a luminous gold.

"Yes. This is it."

His eyes seemed rapt with ecstasy.

"This was how my ore used to shine."

The flame of desire that had lain dormant in his heart flared to life. He carefully began pouring the molten Phrontenium into the prepared mold, murmuring as though whispering to children.

"In you go, slowly. That's it. There's still plenty of room for you..."

The luminous Phrontenium filled the mold to the brim. Phrontesis finished by sealing its opening, and the fierce heat subsided in an instant.

He carefully set the mold down and turned to Ferda.

"Leave it to cool like this for about four days, and it'll be finished. Give it to that damn bastard."

"Thank you, Lord Phrontesis."

"There's still a little left over..."

A tiny pool of molten Phrontenium remained at the bottom of the vessel.

"Hmm... that ill-mannered lout won't miss this much."

After a moment's thought, Phrontesis scraped together the molten metal. It quickly cooled in his hands, drawing out into fine, noodle-like strands.

Despite his rugged appearance and thick fingers, his touch was exquisitely delicate. He worked intently, shaping something until at last he looked satisfied.

"There."

Holding his creation, Phrontesis slowly approached Valdrova.

"Valdrova, my little lady. Here, take these."

"These are..."

He had made a pair of rings. Fine strands formed delicate stems and small blossoms, with a single large flower blooming at the center.

No artisan could have matched their delicacy.

"Wedding rings. They look rather plain for now, but I'll send a decent artisan to set a few gems in them. That should make them presentable."

"Phrontesis..."

"Have I made too much of a fuss? I haven't become some strange old fellow who takes it upon himself to make even your wedding rings, have I?"

"No... I hadn't even thought about... wedding rings yet."

"Then will you wear them? For me?"

"Of course."

Valdrova's voice was thick with tears. Phrontesis was overcome with joy, yet at the same time he lowered his head in guilt.

"After all the things I've done, it feels very awkward to say this to you... but I hope you'll wear these and live happily with your fiancé."

"Please don't feel that way, Phrontesis. I'll never forget how you feel."

"Thank you, my lady."

He kissed the back of her hand once more. His face looked thoroughly relieved.

"Well, this old man had best be going. Tell that damn bastard to hurry up and drop dead. Valdrova's fiancé, would you see me to the exit?"

"Yes, gladly."

Ferda matched his pace to Phrontesis's waddling steps. When they seemed far enough from the lair, Phrontesis spoke again.

"I asked you to see me out because there's something I want to tell you."

Somehow, Ferda had suspected as much.

"Please, go ahead."

"I'm going to tell you something. Can you promise not to ask any questions about it, or tell another soul?"

"What could it be...?"

"I'll only accept an answer to my question. Promise me, and I'll tell you."

After some thought, Ferda replied, "I give you my word as the Grand Duchess's fiancé."

Then Phrontesis told him, "Valdrova... that child is growing weaker."

"What? What do you mean...?"

Phrontesis raised a thick finger, reminding him of his promise not to ask questions. Ferda closed his mouth.

"It was truly wonderful to see her after so long. But having been apart for so long, I couldn't quite tell what had become of her power... Once I saw the flame she produced, I knew. She's grown noticeably weaker."

Phrontesis looked up toward the outside with worried eyes.

"Nothing is as it once was. Not I, not the Primordial Forge, and not that child... The foretold twilight of the dragons is coming to pass."

"..."

"Everything rests with you now, young mortal, as her fiancé. Cherish her."

Once outside, Phrontesis bent toward the ground. His body swelled, but before he had fully regained his true form, he burrowed deep into the earth.

Ferda stared for a long time at the patch of overturned soil.

She was growing weaker. The twilight of the dragons was coming to pass.

Phrontesis had vanished after offering nothing but cryptic, ominous words. Ferda could not even begin to decide what to think.

Knowing he would find no answers standing there in a daze, he returned to Valdrova. She sat on the floor, humming to herself.

"Ferda."

Her voice was bright, as though she had no idea what was troubling him. She was utterly immersed in happiness.

"Come sit beside me."

She patted the bare floor. Ferda carefully sat down beside her, and she shuffled over until she was pressed close against him.

With their shoulders touching, she showed him the rings she held so tenderly.

"Aren't these rings beautiful?"

"They are."

"These will be our wedding rings. Do you see this little setting?"

"I do."

"Once there's a gem here, it'll sparkle."

"I see."

"I'd like a blue gem in mine, the color of your eyes. And we'll put a red one in yours. What do you think?"

"If it's what you imagine, I'm certain it'll be wonderful."

"Our wedding will be just as wonderful."

Filled with happiness, Valdrova rested her head on his shoulder.

The weight upon it made his heart ache rather than flutter. At the same time, he was relieved that she could not see his face.