Chapter 500: In the Shadow of the Riddle

[‘Here lies one of my masterpieces! A weapon capable of ascending in power alongside its wielder. A weapon… alive.’]

Alive?

Luke opened the chest. Inside rested a black orb, its surface constantly shedding coils of dark smoke. He focused on it and invoked [Identify]. The description surfaced at once.

[Tsukumogami no Me]: A cursed black eye capable of absorbing a weapon and awakening a spirit within it. Once consumed by the eye, the weapon begins to develop a rudimentary soul, shaped entirely by how it was treated by its wielder and by the nature of the one who bears it. If it was handled with care, respect, and purpose, the spirit born will be loyal and cooperative. If it was used with cruelty, neglect, or bloodlust… the spirit will mirror that darkness. The Tsukumogami no Me does not merely create living weapons. It reveals what was always hidden inside them.

Luke smiled. So that was what Azazel wanted him to find.

He looked down at his kukris. Cracked blades, like shattered glass. The edges had dulled, the steel worn thin, their lives almost spent. And now… they would live again.

“What is it, my lord?” Angie asked.

Charlie watched with the same curiosity.

Luke lifted the orb. It had weight, yet felt strange in his palm, as if made of smoke trapped inside something viscous and black, solid only by defiance.

“This might repair my weapons. Maybe even make them better.”

He let the orb hover using telekinesis and tightened his grip around the kukris.

Two blades… will it choose only one? Or both?

He brought one kukri closer. The orb trembled. Gravity seemed to twist around it, the smoke stretching toward the metal. The blade jerked forward, pulled from his hand, and vanished into the black sphere. The kukri had been larger than the orb, yet it slipped inside as if swallowed whole.

The other blade began to shake in his grip.

“So you want to go too?”

He released it. The second kukri was dragged in, consumed by the eye. The smoke faded, and the orb hardened, its surface turning smooth and solid, black as onyx. When Luke picked it up again, the weight had changed. Heavy. Substantial. Alive.

And now?

He stood there, listening. Nothing happened at first. Then, faintly, from somewhere deep inside the orb, came the sound of metal striking metal. Hammer against an anvil.

No way… the weapon is literally being reforged in there?

He slipped it into his pocket. Storage wouldn’t accept it. Fine. He’d keep it close.

“That’s it,” he said, turning away from the chest. “Our job here is done.”

***

The day wore on while Luke turned the fortress into a functioning base. Charlie had washed away the dried blood, fresh from a bath and a small dose of Luke’s blood to recover her strength.

During a few tests they had run, Luke realized Angie’s skill couldn’t be used to restore his HP. It only healed very minor injuries, which meant it wasn’t going to solve their problem of keeping Charlie fed. He would still need to keep making healing potions.

Sitting on the temple veranda, he watched the ruined village below and stared at the black eye resting on the table. There was no sign his kukris would ever come free from it. He was starting to accept that he might be without weapons for a while.

I should have invested in at least a spare set of daggers. Something.

His main weapons were gone. He picked up the eye and thought of Miles.

“So that’s why he closed the dimension after claiming his treasure. He wants the rest of the weapons for himself.”

The logic was simple: seal the area, wipe out the competition, and collect the other three. He had probably already awakened his own weapon by now, and understood just how powerful it became. Even Luke, who hadn’t seen his weapon finished yet, found the idea tempting.

If there were still treasures left to claim, I would have gone hunting for the others immediately. But the last three have already been used. Shame… I could have forged a weapon for Charlie and Angie.

“Hey, human. Why are you standing there talking to yourself?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I’m thinking. You don’t do that?”

“No.”

“Yeah, that was obvious,” Artemis muttered.

On his way back to the treasure chamber, Luke thought about the riddle left behind in the dimension, the one tied to the legacy of the demon-smith. No new notification appeared, which meant the hidden temple didn’t require all the weapons to be found. Or maybe it only reveals itself after mine is finished.

Dimensional Rift: Temple of the Demon Blacksmith

Ages ago, a blacksmith from the Spectral Demon tribe reached the pinnacle of his craft within his clan. Before vanishing, he left behind four weapons forged by his own hands, scattered throughout this dimension as minor treasures. Each one serves as a key leading toward the hidden temple where his masterpiece rests.

But only one deemed worthy may open the temple. To inherit his legacy, one must answer the riddle the master smith left behind:

“Among the four weapons I created… which one holds my true treasure?”

Treasures Found: 4/4

But if every weapon is forged from Tsukumogami no Me, then which one can possibly hold the answer? It feels too random to guess.

At least the message confirmed one thing about the so-called hidden temple.

A blacksmith’s temple is his forge, his sacred place. Somewhere out there, a secret forge is concealed, and inside it lies the demon-smith’s true legacy. And if a living weapon with a spirit is already this impressive… then what could that legacy be?