Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer

Translated by A Passing Wanderer

Edited by RED

**

Clang...!

Stifling heat filled up the room.

Clang-!

A large hammer slammed down.

Clang-! Clang-! Clang-! Clang-!

Dozens of dwarves were hammering away with powerful blows. The muscles on their thick arms trembled.

Their hammers continued to strike down on the large fang that had been heated until it had taken on a crimson hue.

"We need to melt this fang down-!"

"Increase the heat!"

"Raise the furnace's temperature even higher-!"

The short-statured dwarves bellowed loudly while hurriedly running around here and there.

They manipulated the blast furnace powered by the molten lava flowing from the volcano and increased the heat even further. Even though the forge had been sealed shut from the rest of the world, a darkish crimson glow still escaped from the gaps to illuminate its surroundings.

Belrog commanded his fellow dwarves, "We need to finish our task quickly so that the dragon fang can come alive once more!"

A bone of a legendary dragon... and not just any bone, but its fang, no less! They simply could not afford to waste a material this precious.

However, despite the concerted efforts of the dwarves, the fang showed no signs of melting.

"Dammit!" Belrog spat out an expletive while staring at the fang currently dipped inside the molten lava-like liquid within the furnace.

That bone was capable of withstanding a dragon's breath attack, so they needed a far hotter and fiercer flame in order to melt this thing down.

'How many days has it been already?'

It almost felt like a year had passed by at this point.

The dwarves were getting anxious as the refining process went on. If they failed to smelt the fang as soon as possible, then the resulting product would end up a failure.

'This is none other than a dragon's fang.'

It was different from all the other bones of a dragon, making the process to smelt and refine it that much more difficult. It was near impossible to shatter it, so a dragon's special trait had to be utilised here.

The fang might be absurdly sturdy, but it still had the characteristic of melting down when subjected to a temperature far exceeding a dragon's breath attack.

And at the moment that happened, one had to quickly shape it into the desired form, widen it, and beat it to the desired state.

"We shall resort to alchemy, then! Forcibly increase the temperature of the furnace!"

At Belrog's loud command, several dwarves wearing robes began pouring additives from jars into the furnace's molten liquid.

Glug, glug...

Once those unidentified liquids were added to the furnace, explosions began going off one by one. Flames gushed up and the dwarves kitted out in protective leather clothing stumbled back.

"What can a dwarf hope to achieve when he's scared of a little flame?!"

Belrog roared out and walked up to the blast furnace.

When he looked inside, the fang contained within seemed to be breaking down, little by little.

'Yes. It's working!'

The heat was sufficiently high! Their job now was to beat it into shape and cool it down.

"...We shall use His Highness's holy water to quench it."

A huge pair of pincers creaked and came down like a machine to grab the fang, then raised it out of the molten liquid to place it on a large anvil.

"Beat it, now!"

All the dwarves rushed towards the fang. A cacophony of loud hammering noises resounded out next.

They maintained steady breathing and matched each other's rhythm to pound away at the fang.

And the dragon's fang eventually...

"Bring in the ore of the spirits, Eltera!"

The metal powder boasting resistance to magic was liberally scattered on the fang.

"And then, His Highness's holy water!"

The water, drawn from the lake of holy water created back when the Seventh Imperial Prince was hunting lycans down, was used to rapidly cool the fang and harden the material.

Time continued to tick by.

The faces of the dwarves were getting burnt black.

'Just how long has it been?'

Belrog wiped away the trickles of cold sweat from his face. It sure felt like two years had flown past him by now. He often thought about it, but well, it felt as if his sense of time would get warped whenever he became too focused on his work.

His extreme level of concentration had created the illusion of a different time flow.

Belrog gritted his teeth. 'I will not fail at creating the greatest masterpiece of my life!'

"Heat it up again!"

Faster, quicker than ever before, but with the utmost care!

"Temper it!"

They needed to shorten the time as much as possible. If not, the fang, the dragon bone itself, would 'die' again!

"Cool it with holy water!"

They simply had to craft the greatest item this world had yet seen with the hands of these master craftsmen.

'Five days? Six? Or even more than that?'

Time continued to march forward.

It felt like three years had passed by already.

The dwarves fell victim to exhaustion, one at a time.

Which was understandable, considering that they kept hammering away the whole day while stuck inside this stifling, choking heat. They couldn't eat, drink, nor even get some sleep.

It felt like ages since they last witnessed the rays of sunlight from outside the forge. Even back when they were slaves, they never had to force themselves to this extent!

"I... I'm at my limit."

"Bloody hell, why is it... so tough?"

One by one, dwarves began collapsing from exhaustion.

'Not yet!'

Belrog's legs were wobbling. Even then, he grasped his large hammer tightly with both hands.

His arms and legs spasmed sporadically, and he had to endure an intense pain that felt like his spinal discs had slipped.

Even then, Belrog did not stop his hammering. He paid the utmost attention with every hammer strike and focused all of his senses on the task before him.

Other dwarves stared at Belrog and chatted among themselves.

"Dammit, just how many days has it been?!"

"It can't be ten days already, right?"

"Stop talking rubbish, will ya?!"

In order to breathe a new life into the dragon's fang, to craft an even sturdier, more precise end product... they needed to complete the armament in question in the shortest amount of time possible.

"All of you, stop flapping your gums and get back to work!" Belrog roared out, but he could feel his lips tremble just then. A certain type of fear began rising in his mind.

'We might really fail here!'

The negative thoughts gradually eroded away at his confidence.

'Please, please, make it a success! Please!' Belrog ardently prayed in his heart. It wasn't just him, though; every dwarf inside the forge prayed for the same thing.

'No, we cannot fail here.'

Her Highness had personally requested this of them. They simply could not afford to betray her high expectations of them.

"For the sake of Her Highness..." Belrog muttered to no one in particular, but that prompted the exhausted dwarves on their knees to raise their heads.

"For the sake of Her Highness-!" Belrog roared out again, and the dwarves all gritted their teeth.

They resumed hammering away.

"For the sake of Her Highness-!"

"For our Lady Hilda-!"

Clang-! Clang-! Clang-!

"We shall complete the world's greatest shield-!"

Belrog struck down with his hammer for the last time.

And right at that moment, a powerful explosion rocked the forge.

The dwarves jumped up in shock before throwing themselves on the floor, while Belrog was swept up in the explosion and got flung away.

The firmly-shut steel doors of the forge were blown outside, along with Belrog's body.

A sudden rush of incoming air stoked the flames inside the forge, but the jars containing holy water placed on the shelves shattered almost at the same time and poured their contents out to quell the flames before they could rage out of control.

Dense steam quickly filled the interior of the forge.

Other dwarves standing outside the forge counting the time down all gasped in shock and hurriedly stared at Belrog lying tossed onto the ground.

He moaned in pain and coughed out blackish smoke while lying among the wreckage of the broken steel doors.

"Is that... Belrog?"

"What the hell? What was that explosion just now...?!"

The dwarves on standby outside hurriedly stared into the forge. Its interior was cloaked in a thick veil of darkness and dense steam, which obscured their view. The complexions of the dwarves grew pale-white at that sight.

"What's this?! Oh my goodness..."

"Could it be that Belrog... He's finally come outside the forge after all this time?!"

Dwarves shifted their gazes back to Belrog. They were muttering away while sounding somewhat unconvinced.

Belrog heard their muttering and stopped moaning with a noticeable flinch. However, a despairing expression quickly filled his face.

He turned his head and stared at the dwarves around him.

The moment their stiff expressions entered his vision, he instinctively realised that something had gone wrong.

'Oh no, could it be that more than ten days have passed by already?!'

Belrog was quickly overcome with fear.

He urgently shouted a question at the other dwarves. "Days! How many days has it been?!"

According to his own senses, it must've been three years, at least! That's how painful the length of time he had spent inside was. He even had to spend every drop of his energy.

But how many days passed by in reality? What if it had been over ten days...?

All of their efforts would be in vain in that case!

Just as he began spiralling into despair, one of the dwarves nearby finally opened his mouth. "...It's been three days."

Belrog flinched at that reply before freezing up on the spot. "What did you say?"

He turned his head and scanned the other dwarves for confirmation.

The nearest dwarf to him muttered as if he was talking to himself. "I told you, it's been... three days."

The dwarves slowly turned their heads and stared at the forge once more. Even Belrog dazedly stared at the mouth of the workshop that had flung him outside.

The morning sun was rising.

The pristine, clear rays of sunlight began illuminating the interior of the forge obscured by the darkness.

Dwarves lying on the floor of the forge were rising unsteadily back to their feet.

The thick steam was gradually settling down and dissipating in the air, while the warm rays of the sun caused a sacred pure-white light to glow brightly from within.

A shield shaped like an inverted triangle and a cross melded together, and boasting patterns engraved with bluish powder, was reflecting the light while soaked in the holy water.

A shield that could withstand even the hottest flames and reflect any impact; it was the 'dragon shield', brimming with divinity.

"Oh my gods."

Belrog's irises grew larger and larger.

He stared at that hauntingly beautiful shield and muttered out in a trance, "That... that is my life's greatest work."

The other dwarves seemed to agree with him because they clamped their mouths shut, unable to raise any objections.

And Belrog spoke with unwavering certainty. "We really have crafted the strongest shield out there."

This was the moment of the greatest shield in the history of this continent being born.