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-Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Passing through the entrance shaped like a giant’s mouth, I heard a loud hammering sound, and intense heat hit my face.

“Oh…”

Immediately upon entering, a giant furnace came into view.
The fire, as vivid as if it were alive, blazed ceaselessly in a bright crimson hue, melting chunks of iron in an instant.
And despite the flames, the blacksmiths were busy hammering away, making the smithy bustling beyond measure.

“Um… excuse me?”

“What?! I’m busy right now! Talk to me later!”

“Hey, hey! What are you doing over there?! Are you making snacks for the wine?”

“Get a grip, will you?!”

I grabbed a passing blacksmith to ask for directions, but he snapped at me and left. Loud voices filled the entire forge, refusing to be outdone.

What kind of voices are these?

“Oh, is it a customer? Sorry about that.”

A large shadow fell beside me, and a voice like rough metal screeching greeted me.

“Are you in charge here?”

“Hmm, sort of?”

The man, who seemed to dislike long conversations, shrugged his shoulders and scrutinized me before clapping his hands in recognition.

“Aha! You’re the new student, Dianes, right?!”

“Well, yes.”

He was a man with a smaller build than me.
The man appeared to be in his forties or fifties, but his head was boldly shaved, reflecting the light.

Oh dear, at such a young age, he is…

“Hey, it’s just shaved because it got singed by the flames, alright? Don’t look at it like that.”

“Oh, uh, okay…”

“I’m serious!”

The man snapped, defending his bald head with all his might, but I received his sad outburst with a warm heart.
Confucius said that making jokes about the deceased, parents, or someone’s head is not something to do, even in front of an enemy.
For some reason, I couldn’t speak to him informally, feeling a certain sense of caution.

Anyway, putting the baldness aside, the man had an impression as if he were the embodiment of a blacksmith.
Arms that seem capable of crushing rocks, stamina that doesn’t let a single drop of sweat fall even in this heat, and those deep gray eyes scrutinizing me as if assessing a weapon.
The atmosphere was strongly reminiscent of the master artisans, the eccentrics I had met before.

“Ah, damn it. These days, heroes… Whatever, what is it? Here to get a weapon? Just pick one from these for now.”

“No, I…”

“Oh, come on. Just pick something roughly fitting from over there and try it out, then order your custom weapon later. I heard you had a bit of a spear bout with that old Chiron. Are you going to choose a spear?”

“So, I…”

“Don’t like spears? They say Hyperborean spear techniques are different from Greek ones, excelling in solo use. How about a sword, then?”

Not listening to others and just going on with their own talk—it was just like them.
Are all the so-called masters and experts like these kinds of people?

“What kind of sword do you use? These days, the popular swords are…”

“I. Am. Not. Here. To. Order. A. Weapon.”

“…What?”

When I abruptly cut him off with a stiff voice, the man stared at me with wide-open eyes, seemingly caught off guard.

“First, let’s introduce ourselves. As you said, my name is Dianes. I’m a new student who entered the Forest of Heroes less than a week ago.”

“Yes, a new student. The things you’ve done are all quite extraordinary, though.”

The man, smiling and joking, pounded his chest with his fist and said.

“The son of Hephaestus, the disciple of the Cyclopes, the blacksmith who handles all the iron and metal in the Forest of Heroes, Hestosias. Nice to meet a new member of the forest.”

The swaggering demeanor from earlier, shoving all sorts of weapons at me, was nowhere to be seen.
Hestosias introduced himself in a solemn tone.
Even when he mentioned his father, Hephaestus, and his mentors, the Cyclopes, the intense respect and longing in his dark gray eyes hinted at what the God of Blacksmiths and his mentors meant to him.

“Well, anyway, if it’s not a weapon, then what? Armor?”

Of course, that solemnity and respect disappeared in an instant, and he reverted to being a middle-aged man with a casual demeanor.
In any case, judging by the situation in the forge, there seemed to be no one else to talk to but the person in front of me, so I decided to give it a shot.

“I want to commission a musical instrument.”

“A musical instrument? A musical instrument…???”

Hmm?
Until now, he had been chattering on like a catalog parrot about spears and swords, so I had thought it was a lost cause.

Hestosias showed a momentary interest in my request.
But that was short-lived. He quickly reverted to his nonchalant attitude, leaning on one leg and gesturing outside with his chin.

“Hey… if it’s instruments you want, go to Syphrenias’s music shop over there. What kind of instrument could you possibly find in a blacksmith’s…?”

“Well, that’s because this is something that even an ordinary music shop couldn’t begin to design, let alone craft.”

“…Oh?”

Unlike when we were talking about weapons just now, Hestosias seemed genuinely intrigued by my words.

“I don’t know where you heard the rumor, but it seems you’ve been told that I come from a foreign land. That speeds things up.”

The Longing Ghost Sound.
A supreme master who ascended to the position of leader of the Demonic Cult through his musical prowess, and at the same time, all of the Central Plains once listened to his performance.
He was an exceptional musician, so much so that people flocked to Xinjiang to listen to him.
Even the Emperor did not hesitate to indirectly support the Demonic Sect by listening to his music in private.
When he occasionally performed in front of the followers, even the disciples of the Kunlun Sect, who considered the Demonic Sect their mortal enemy, would hear the rumors and come to Xinjiang.
This gave a clear indication of the level of his musical mastery.

And I, too, have listened to his performances countless times.
The twelve pieces he created were so vivid that merely listening to them brought the scenes he depicted to life before my eyes, moved me to tears with the emotions he conveyed, and made me sway my head in rhythm with the joy.

He was truly a maestro.
If this man had lived as an ordinary musician instead of the leader of the Demon Cult, he would have overturned the entire music world of the Central Plains with his talent.

If that had been the case, I wouldn’t have been hit by a sonic cannon while shedding tears of admiration.

“Anyway, I am the one who inherited all the teachings and essence of enlightenment from such a man.”

“Oh my…”

And the instrument to capture the excellence of such an existence should not just look similar in shape.

“It must perfectly recreate an instrument of a shape never seen on this Greek land…”

“Yes, I thought it would be impossible without the renowned son of Hephaestus, so I came here.”

Why, nervous?

Seeing my silent provocation, Hestosias snorted disdainfully and raised the corner of his mouth.

“Ha! There’s nothing you can’t say to the son of Hephaestus and the disciple of the Cyclopes.
Well, I was getting antsy from only handling swords and spears lately. Tell me your story.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“You brat… Shut up and speak quickly. As long as there’s someone in the world who has seen, touched, or knows about it, there’s nothing I can’t make!”

The nonchalant and swaggering attitude from before was gone, and Hephaestus’ son glared at me as if he would do something drastic if I didn’t explain the instrument right away.

Indeed, universally, a challenge to a man was the best bait to make him take on any task.

With a thrilling feeling as if I had a big catch wriggling in both hands, I inwardly smirked evilly and explained to him the instrument I wanted.

“A hollowed-out tree trunk, approximately 4 to 3 cubits in size, can be played while seated with it on your lap or laid flat on a stand. From the player’s body, it gradually thickens, and on that trunk are twelve strings, from thick to thin, like a lyre. The strings are adjusted by turning a tuning peg on the lower right of the instrument…”

“Hmm… Then here…”

“No, there you should…”

We brought a slate to the counter and started drawing and erasing blueprints with chalk repeatedly, as Hestosias and I diligently adjusted the preliminary design.
As expected of Hephaestus’ son, every time he adjusted the drawing according to my descriptions, the image I had in mind was gradually coming to life.
Before long, we had a detailed preliminary design drawn out.

“It looks peculiar… Strumming a string on a wooden board to amplify sound inside the body?”

“Yes, how long will it take?”

“Hmm…”

Hestosias, who was frowning intently while staring at the blueprint we had completed together, soon nodded and replied.

“Probably… It will take at least a week.”

“A week?”

It was much faster than I expected.
Even though he was the son of the God of Blacksmiths, this would be the first time he had seen such an instrument.
Plus, just preparing and refining the materials would take…

“What are you talking about? Do you know where you are? With a blueprint like this, a week is more than enough. Of course…”

Hestosias’s gray eyes, which smiled deeply as if a sinister sound would follow, glinted mischievously at me.
From that gaze, I had a gut feeling that something was wrong.

“I guess I’ll need the help of the so-called great little hero, whose fame is said to echo throughout the whole forest.”

“Well, if you’re going to make something for me, I should help you.”

“Oh? You said it.”

With a satisfied smile, Hestosias extended his hand for a handshake, and I also grabbed it as we shook hands.

“I look forward to working with you, kid.”

“Same here.”

His way of speaking was quite cocky, but if Hestosias was truly the son of Hephaestus and a disciple of the Cyclopes, as he claimed, it seemed like a gamble worth taking.
However, his eyes, gleaming with a sly look, did bother me a bit.
What could I do, though? I was the one in a hurry.

Hestosias said he would inform Chiron that aside from the forest curriculum, my activities would be with him for the time being. He told me to come to this forge after class.

“See you tomorrow then~”

“Ah, wait a moment.”

“Yes?”

“What is this called?”

Hestosias asked while looking at the instrument that remained as a blueprint on the stone tablet in my memories.

“In my hometown, it was called gayageum or gayatgo1. I’ll play a piece for you once it’s completed.”

“Gayageum, gayatgo… An instrument from Hyperborea that no one in the world has ever made before. It’s been a while since I’ve had such an interesting project.”

Nodding with satisfaction, Hestosias disappeared into the blacksmiths’ shop as if he couldn’t waste a moment.