Gluttony Demon King with the Swampman ~A Man with No Magic Power Who Dreamed of Magic, Wielding Knowledge from His Past Life Through Steady Research and Hard Work to Become the Most Vicious Final Boss~

Chapter 26: Prophecy

After clashing with monsters several times, we safely finished the first day’s travel.

We set up camp while it was still light, and everyone ate together.

Noiche’s nighttime stealth magic was once again praised by the blacksmiths, and they decided to apply it over the entire camp.

There had been several attacks during the day, but thanks to the magic, we encountered nothing at all once night fell. As always, this spell worked much more strongly after sunset.
…Still, it wasn’t safe enough to sleep completely unguarded, so of course we needed lookouts.

Late at night, during my watch shift.

I kept an ear on the sounds around us while using the campfire light to read my notes.

There was a lot to think about.

I now had to figure out how to carve the new magic crests I planned to put on my body, and on top of that, I had to account for the ink’s “ability to multiply.”

“…Up till now, the reason it never multiplied on a large scale was probably because of the magic-reflection property.”

Thanks to the trait I absorbed from the flume spirit silver, the ink no longer accepted stray magic from the surroundings.

Unless someone deliberately poured magic into it—like Noiche had done during the day—there was no trigger to force the ink to multiply. That was one relief. I’d be in trouble if it started growing on its own.

Yet somewhere I hadn’t noticed, the ink had quietly increased just a little. What caused it?

“Was it because I made the pendant…?”

I had borrowed a tiny bit of the ink’s body as material for the pendant I gave Noiche.

Maybe the ink had tried to restore the amount it lost.

“Either way, it looks like I’ll be able to use it in handy ways.”

The more ink I have, the wider the range of things I can do with it.

Uncontrolled growth would be a problem, but as long as I can control it, there’s nothing to worry about.

First, I need to set up a clear trigger to make the ink multiply and another to stop it.

Then I’ll look into advanced applications… For example, I’ve never tried incorporating “faith” or “analogical magic” the way House Levi does. It might be worth testing.

I started turning those ideas into magic circles and formulas.
As my pen moved across the memo paper, I suddenly sensed someone moving near the wagons.

…Someone’s awake?

My feeling was right. Egiy climbed down from a wagon, rubbing sleepy eyes.

She had come to draw water from a barrel. When she noticed me, she wobbled over and sat down beside me.

“…Haro-kun, what’re you drawing?”

Still half-asleep, she had switched from calling me “Haro-san” to “Haro-kun.”

I didn’t mind either way, so I just answered.

“Working out some magic.”

“Ma—magic? Whoa, I thought it was a picture, but… it’s actually magic circles…?”

Egiy leaned in, eyes wide.

The page was packed with circles and formulas that formed even more shapes on top of them. From a distance, it really did look like nothing more than a drawing.

…Come to think of it, this woman is a blacksmith.

She drank from her cup in little nods, then casually tucked her sleek side hair above her ear, revealing a pure white, long ear—she was beautiful. She really didn’t look like someone who did heavy manual labor.

“…Why did you become a blacksmith?”

“Huh? Why… Well… because I thought it was beautiful, that’s all…”

“Beautiful?”

“Yeah. The forged iron, the flames used to shape it… they looked pretty to me, all sparkly. That’s the kind of vague longing it was.”

…I understood that feeling painfully well.

Magic is beautiful. Mysterious, unreal, yet practical. To me, it sparkled too.

That’s what longing is.

“How’s Zilmoza doing?”

“M-my master? What about him…?”

“I mean his impression of us. Zaria really wants a sword, so we took this job partly to make a connection with blacksmiths.”

Oh, I see, Egiy nodded.

“Then I don’t think he has a bad impression at all. Master loves anything new.”

“…Anything new?”

“Yes. Master loves things that are ‘new.’”

…I didn’t quite get what she meant. When I tilted my head, Egiy continued with a touch of pride.

“Dwarves are the race best at smithing—that kind of old thinking annoys him. So he takes students no matter if they’re beastkin or elves.”

“Huh.”

“And he adores techniques he’s never seen before. He buys weapons from all over the world or bows his head to visit other workshops…”

Whoa, who would have thought that stubborn-looking old man was so open-minded inside?
That’s rare for a craftsman… It feels like the kind of modern outlook that would fit perfectly even in my previous world.

“An adventuring duke’s daughter, or a ma-gi-cian who con-trols s-l-i-m-e-s… Master likes those because they’re new. So I’m sure he won’t hate you guys!”

…She had casually seen right through the nature of my magic.
As expected of an elf—even though she’s a blacksmith, she knows a lot about magic.

I gave a wry smile, and Egiy scratched her cheek shyly, adding, “Well, I can’t tell what he’s really thinking, though.”

“Master doesn’t talk much, and my senior brothers always look serious, so it might feel a little awkward until you get used to it.”

“Senior brothers? Oh, the other disciples.”

“Right. Today especially, they were deep in thought. Wondering if there are just too many goblins lately.”

Yeah, I’d felt the same.

Almost every monster we ran into was a goblin, and they acted strangely fearless—like something was pushing them forward, giving them momentum.

“…Is this another sign that a Demon King is coming?”

The guild had already confirmed that goblin numbers were rising, but still, it was blatant.

“Demon King… Haro-kun, did you know? They say one of the old Demon Kings used a sword.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

She seemed fully awake now; Egiy was getting chatty.

“There was one called the ‘Sword Demon King,’ literally. He wielded a sword with high intelligence, and there’s even a legend that the Demon King himself was a sword.”

“Huh, first I’ve heard of it. Did the hero of that time defeat him?”

“It’s more accurate to say the hero sealed him. They dragged the spirit body out of the sword and split it into pieces to seal it away.”

Splitting a spirit body.

That hero casually did something insane.

Still, a Demon King whose very body was a sword… So something like a cursed blade?

“Lately there’s that prophecy people whisper about—seven Demon Kings will appear. One theory says ‘a Demon King who was sealed in the past will revive and fill the seventh pillar.’”

“…So the Sword Demon King might come back?”

“Well, I don’t know. But I’d hate it if that happened.”

Egiy finished speaking and slowly stood up.
She had talked for a long time; her cup was empty before she noticed.

“Well, tomorrow’s early.”

“Yeah, good night.”

“Good night. Looking forward to working with you tomorrow.”

She bowed deeply and returned to the wagon. I watched her go, then picked up my pen again. We were scheduled to reach our destination tomorrow.