The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 24

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The Academy’s Weapon Replicator Chapter 24
Part 6: The Golem (5)
The golem had long since stopped obeying Edwin’s will. It pressed its assault regardless of his hesitation, his guilt, as though heeding a voice that far exceeded his authority as its master.
“Wait, stop! Please!”
Edwin’s shouts seemed to fall on deaf ears—as if the golem were listening to a voice that transcended his claim to command.
Crash! Bang! Crash!
The spear blade, wielded with brute force, gouged the earth with each strike. Unlike before, its movements bore no resemblance to the Artzie Basic Spear Art.
Yet that very crudeness carried terrible speed and power, leaving no window to exploit.
If only I could freeze it for a moment—that would be my chance—
Then,
as the golem’s arm raised again in one of its wild sweeps,
Clang!
A blade buried itself in the golem’s arm.
‘Ellin’s sword!’
She had thrown it.
Every last scrap of health and mana I’d gathered while fighting—all of it poured into this single move.
Impossible for me, perhaps, but from Ellin’s perspective, such a crude assault read like an open book. She saw the opening I couldn’t.
An opportunity that could never be wasted.
I grasped the necklace. The black jeweled necklace Quinie had given me.
This necklace absorbs any liquid it touches. To fill it, you simply place it atop the liquid and let it drink.
With Space Expansion Magic woven into it, it holds far more than it appears to.
But how does one draw from it again?
Far simpler than that.
Crack.
Break it open.
Weaving, Black Stream.
Rank – Legendary
Gram.
The black liquid of Black Stream takes form in an instant, settling into both my hands. Sigurd’s blade—Gram—grips itself in my grip.
Simultaneously, dizziness and exhaustion flood through me. Mana Depletion drawing near.
I bring that blade upward, straight toward the sky, then slash it downward like an arrow.
But the strike comes a fraction too late, and the golem’s hastily launched spear blade meets mine mid-swing.
The moment they touch, both blades fall silent—no sound at all.
“……!”
In that instant,
I saw the golem’s purple aura.
That which I had only guessed held form now revealed itself unmistakably,
and I locked eyes with it.
[Do you comprehend why you possess neither Divine Power nor talent?]
[How dare you imitate the weapons of heroes.]
[All the gods shall curse you. Base creature.]
That voice echoed within frozen time.
I knew what it was.
The aura that had passed from Edwin into the golem.
The Corruptor that had twisted Edwin.
The irresponsible power that had placed the golem in his hands, burdened him with sin.
──So you reveal yourself at last.
Hephaestus.
[I have seen that technique before.]
[What will you accomplish with a power that grants merely three seconds?]
“Seen before,” it says.
So that was it.
I’d found it strange when I came across Sleb unexpectedly in the Lower Dungeon.
It was your doing.
As if those words were all that mattered, time resumed its flow.
The golem’s spear moved in an unnatural pattern.
With a sound like crackling kindling, it generated both rotation and impact simultaneously.
Whistle—
Gram flew from my hand, spinning through the air.
The Artzie Basic Spear Art.
A mysterious technique—clashing weapons with an opponent, forcing them to lose their grip.
Disarming Strike.
“Ah!”
From a distance, I heard Ellin’s sharp cry.
The opponent’s desperate attack was deflected perfectly, and their weapon torn from their hands. Only Artzie could manage such a thing. If the golem was modeled after him, this would be a technique worth coveting.
Which is why I,
already knew this move was coming.
A whoosh—the golem’s spear shot toward me again. I leaned back immediately, evading its thrust.
Before the golem could deploy the Disarming Strike, I’d already released my grip on Gram. Thanks to that, I maintained my balance and dodged the spear.
Against Artzie, evasion like this would be a death sentence.
But it works on you.
You counterfeit.
Gram spun lazily through the air, still intact.
The Weaving doesn’t break. Three seconds have already passed.
All Hephaestus knows is this much: that Gram vanishes when three seconds elapse.
But I’ve done repeated Mana Depletion training, and I’m wearing the ring Quinie gave me.
‘I stretched it two more seconds, you fool.’
I caught the falling Gram, the blade angled upward from below.
What I’m doing is mere mimicry. Just as the golem before me does.
Artzie would have clicked his tongue in disappointment if he saw this.
But my opponent is a copy of Artzie.
‘Then I’d better be ready to take a hit.’
Artzie Basic Spear Art
Frontdier-style Sword Art Variant
Diagonal Slash
Screech—!
A diagonal line carved by Gram.
The golem fell apart exactly along that line, its upper body severed clean.
* * *
Clang.
The sound of metal rang harshly.
The golem, which moments ago seemed a savage beast, now produced the hollow ring of an empty tin can.
I stood with my shoulders slumped.
……I won.
Once that sank in, I finally heard my own heartbeat.
“Hah… hah….”
My hands trembled violently. Mana Depletion was severe.
Even with those two extra seconds, I must have burned through more time than expected. Or perhaps I consumed more mana than I realized.
Gram had already reverted to Black Stream and flowed away.
Clink, clink—the sound of glass shards striking each other. The shattered necklace gathered itself back together, restoring to its original form.
The necklace Quinie gave me contains Restoration Magic within it.
Which means from now on, when I want to use Black Stream, I break this necklace, and once the Restoration Magic reverts it, I pour Black Stream back into it again.
Quinie really did give me something precious.
I decided to call the necklace “Heukryeon.”
“……All right, now.”
I forced my unmoving face to look up.
The violet aura that lingered after defeating the golem remained.
Hephaestus.
One of the Twelve Olympians. God of the forge and of flame.
To the eyes of one who tempers metal and forges weapons, was my Weaving truly so offensive?
[You deserve to die.]
Hephaestus’s seething voice reached me.
His mouth was still working, then.
[Don’t mistake this for victory. You haven’t even scratched me.]
So what. I never intended to scratch you in the first place. Why does a god keep meddling in what mortals do?
[Next time, things won’t end like—]
When Hephaestus reached that point,
I felt as though I’d met his gaze directly.
The violet aura’s form was hazy,
“……Ugh?”
In that moment, I beheld a strange vision.
A limping man stood before me. He was handing something to a woman.
Was it a bow and arrows? My eyes committed both images to the Workshop.
But who was that woman?
The limping man was surely Hephaestus. Yet the fact that he was giving her a bow of his own making meant—
That woman, could she possibly be—
[You!!]
The vision shattered, leaving only Hephaestus’s voice in its wake.
[What did you see! How dare you, to peek unbidden at a god’s past—what have you done!]
Hephaestus was visibly flustered.
I let out a dry laugh. It seemed I hadn’t failed to leave a mark after all.
[How much more must you insult divinity before you are satisfied—]
Unlike the indignation in his tone, his voice began to fade gradually.
He had nowhere left to anchor his Divine Power; he couldn’t persist much longer.
“……Disappear.”
My voice was dry.
It was as though I was pouring out exhaustion with every word.
After Hephaestus’s voice faded entirely,
I stood in the silence of the wind.
“……Frontdier.”
I turned my head. Ellin stood beside me.
She held her side, but it seemed she had recovered considerably.
“What about Edwin?”
Ellin’s voice was languid as always. It made me drowsier still.
Edwin remained where he had been standing, simply crouched down.
There seemed to be no need to worry about him now that Hephaestus’s influence had withdrawn.
“……Edwin will be fine.”
“……I see.”
Ellin nodded quietly.
She too seemed to understand my meaning.
* * *
For Ellin, that sight would be a moment she could never forget, even unto death.
A blade was born in a boy’s hands from nowhere. With that blade, the boy cut down the golem.
The very moment before the blade fell—it was as though witnessing magic itself.
And when the battle ended, the boy simply stood there.
Convulsions ran through his hands; with each small movement, his entire body trembled.
His eyes, fixed on something unseen, gleamed with an eerie light even as the fighting ceased.
His face was drenched in fatigue and exhaustion, yet his eyes alone seemed fixed on something distant.
Ellin rose and walked toward him.
His silhouette, bathed in moonlight, was impossibly beautiful. So she walked—to confirm that this was real.
“……Frontdier.”
She called his name.
Frontdier looked at her.
-What about Edwin?
-Edwin will be fine.
Even as that exchange passed between them, Ellin felt as though she were conversing with a phantom.
Though she was looking at Frontdier,
though Frontdier was looking at her—
Yet Ellin sought to answer the question that loomed largest.
“……Why did you save me?”
You don’t know me.
Even if you did, that wouldn’t be reason enough to risk your life.
The moment he protected her.
His voice crying out to Edwin.
A fight she had never witnessed before.
All of it came to her like a dream—
Frontdier.
Who are you?
“……You are someone who must not die.”
With those words, Frontdier—
His body began to sway.
“……!”
Ellin caught him as he lost his balance.
At last Frontdier shifted from fantasy into reality, cradled in her arms.
His breathing came slow and even.
A peaceful face lay unguarded before her gaze.
“…….”
Ellin poked his face once, almost absently.
Solid. Real.
She blinked several times, then let out something between a sigh and a breath.
That drowsy gaze held the moonlight.
Ellin smiled.
“Asleep, he’s so heavy.”
It was an oddly unsuitable thing for her to say.
* * *
When consciousness returned, I found myself in the infirmary.
I opened my eyes carefully.
A woman in a white coat sat beside me.
Her face was refined—chestnut hair fell in gentle waves, and her eyes held a calm, measured quality beneath long lashes.
I knew who she was.
Malia de Roach. The health teacher at Constellation Academy.
But the information far more important to me was that she was Frontdier’s mother.
‘What do I do.’
Of course, I’d never had a conversation with Malia before.
She didn’t live at the Roach Residence.
Her position as the school’s health officer was for the students’ benefit; her real work lay in magical research.
Her laboratory was fully equipped with living quarters, so she spent nearly all her time there.
She sat reading quietly.
Should I try to startle her?
If I lightened the mood that way, couldn’t I breeze past the conversation awkwardly?
Just as I was about to open my mouth—
Without shifting her gaze from her book, Malia spoke.
“Did you sleep well? Frontdier.”
“……How did you know I was awake?”
“A mother knows everything.”
She must be joking.
But somehow it felt terrifyingly true.
“Your girlfriend brought you here. Thank her for me later, will you.”
Girlfriend?
Oh, she means Ellin.
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“I’m happy to hear it. Though honestly, with a face like yours, I’d think you were running late, not early.”
Are you even listening to yourself?
“Mother, just to confirm—didn’t any other male students come by?”
“Ah, yes.”
Malia nodded.
Her expression—emotionless and measured—was unmistakably similar to Frontdier’s own drowsy manner.
“He turned himself in.”
“……What?”
“He confessed to stealing a golem and attacking students. That’s all they’re saying on the news right now. Want to watch?”
“No, no, that’s all right.”
There was something strangely untense in Malia’s voice.
“There weren’t any…deaths, were there?”
“None at all. Thank goodness. It’s been confirmed that the students deliberately gathered to torment the boy, so the punishment shouldn’t be too severe.”
I sank my head back into the pillow, relieved.
So that was it. Edwin was Edwin after all.
Without Hephaestus’s interference, he was the Edwin I’d always known.
‘……Hephaestus.’
The sight Hephaestus showed me—or rather, what I stole a glimpse of.
A bow and arrows.
If I had to guess, that would almost certainly be Artemis’s Bow.
A matched set of bow and arrows is stored in my Workshop. To Weave it, I’ll need Mana equal to Gram’s cost, or more.
And there’s one thing more.
‘…Weaving two weapons at the *same time*. I need to master that soon.’
Right now, I can only Weave one object at a time.
That’s why when I fought the Golem, I could only throw a single dagger at a time, and it nearly did me in.
I won in the end, but my Mana reserves were stretched thin, and I passed out because of it.
And beyond that,
if I could Weave Artemis’s Bow and arrows,
I’d need to wield each in both hands.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————