The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 27

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Academy’s Weapon Replicator, Chapter 27
Book 9: Menosorpo (1)
A few days had passed since Edwin’s golem incident.
“……Done.”
I gazed at the short daggers woven in both my hands.
[Your skill ‘Weaving’ has gained a new option.]
Skill Details>
[Weaving]
•Grade: Unique
•Description: Store the image of an object in your workshop, then replicate it. However, they are illusions.
•Option: Simultaneous Replication
– Generate multiple woven items at once.
– Number of Simultaneous Replications: 2
At last, I could weave two weapons simultaneously.
Until now, I could only weave one weapon at a time, so I’d remake it each time it shattered. But if I could hold invisible weapons in both hands, far more cunning attacks would become possible.
The rapid-fire speed of dagger throws would accelerate, and dual-blade techniques would finally be within reach.
“So then.”
I closed my eyes.
‘Artemis’s bow and arrows’—I already had that set stored as an image.
……Should I try it?
Artemis as a goddess is far too famous, yet her weapons lack that same renown. They’re overshadowed by the goddess’s own radiance.
Wouldn’t weaving her bow be easier than ‘Gram’, then?
“The arrows are done—let me craft the bow first.”
Right now, I simply need to know if weaving is even possible. The arrows are no problem; besides, I can’t fire them here.
I reached out my hand.
Weaving. Black River.
Grade—Divine Rank
Chryselakaetos
“Ngh……!”
I could certainly feel my mana drain from my body in an instant, but it was less severe than with Gram.
The Divine Rank grade surpasses Legend.
But since I’d only replicated the bow from Artemis’s weapon set—not the arrows as well—the burden seemed lighter.
Gram is renowned enough to rival a divine weapon, after all.
I picked up the bow that had been woven from Black River.
Chryselakaetos. A masterwork given to Artemis by Hephaestus.
True to its nature, the golden bow radiated a brilliant light. It was almost too ornate to be used as a weapon.
“Now then.”
I gripped the bow’s handle and attempted to draw the string.
Or rather, I tried.
“Huh?”
Tremor-tremor
My hands holding the bowstring merely quivered—it wouldn’t budge at all.
“It won’t…… draw!”
I squeezed every muscle in my body, pouring all my strength into the string. Yet it didn’t yield an inch.
Could I simply lack the strength?
By then my mana was nearly exhausted, so I had no choice but to undo the weaving.
“Hah…… hah…….”
Let me think for a moment. Chryselakaetos is Artemis’s bow. If it’s a god’s bow, can only a god draw it? Or perhaps only Artemis herself?
Yet in Ethius, there are—though rare—some people who wield divine weapons.
The Rector of Constel, Osprite, for example.
Most of them receive divine blessing and discover weapons through the pull of that divinity, as if by some fateful design.
But there are certainly cases where that isn’t so.
Either way, divine weapons are not restricted to gods alone.
“If not only gods can use them, then perhaps this is a weapon usable only by Artemis…”
It might be structured that way.
Or maybe Artemis requested something from Hephaestus.
……Or perhaps some curse was placed upon it.
“Artemis—what sort of goddess was she?”
I tilted my head, sinking into thought.
In the world of Ethius, the gods are adapted to suit this realm, yet their general nature flows much the same as the original. Though their names and titles differ slightly, their aspects and deeds remain largely parallel.
Then a thought occurred to me.
A possibility.
But it was a possibility I couldn’t quite welcome—one that lodged itself in my mind anyway.
“……Could it be this bow?”
Could only women draw it?
Artemis, notorious for her disdain of men. Perhaps that very misandry had prompted her to place a special order with Hephaestus.
“Hephaestus, you damnable bastard…….”
Or was it Artemis who’d made the demand that was the real problem? Either way, I couldn’t use it right now.
Even if I wanted to give it to a woman, weapons I’d forged through Weaving couldn’t be transferred to anyone else—they drained my mana continuously.
In the end, I had to be the one to use this bow.
Which meant.
‘……I’d have to modify it?’
Modifying a woven weapon. Was that even possible? Could Weaving extend that far?
Or in the first place,
‘How much do I actually understand about this ability?’
Not a thing.
Until now, I’d focused solely on maximizing whatever capabilities I could access.
Storing weapons as images, materializing them not as ‘matter’ but as ‘phenomena’—I’d believed that alone was possible, nothing more.
I still don’t truly understand Weaving. I use it simply because I can.
But if I could understand ‘Weaving’ completely. If I could grasp the principle of storing weapons as images and the very structure of the weapons themselves.
Then modification wouldn’t be mere fantasy.
‘In any case, I need to confirm whether it really only works for women.’
……Come to think of it, I had somewhere to be.
As luck would have it, it worked out perfectly. Not long ago, I’d received a message via Sage Phone.
I was a bit anxious about it, but maybe I should go.
A hospital visit.
* * *
A General Hospital near Constel.
“The detoxification is complete.”
The doctor spoke after finishing the examination.
Siabel Forte nodded briskly.
“Hehe, I told you. I’m in perfect health.”
“It’s quite remarkable, really. For Slave Venom to be completely purged in such a short span. You were fortunate that the wound avoided major blood vessels. You were very lucky.”
“…….”
Siabel’s expression hardened slightly. Somehow, that word—luck—lingered unusually long in her ears.
Noticing her sudden silence, the doctor tilted his head curiously.
“You don’t seem pleased?”
“Oh, no! I’m pleased! Very pleased indeed! Hahaha, I’m actually famous for being lucky, you see.”
“Ha ha. We’ll monitor your condition until today, then proceed with discharge tomorrow. Make sure you rest.”
“What? Can’t I be discharged right away?”
“Even after detoxification, aftereffects remain in the body. So please, get your rest. If you feel any discomfort, press that button right away.”
The doctor gestured toward the call button affixed to the wall as he spoke.
Siabel nodded.
Creak—after the doctor and nurse left, the private room fell silent once more.
Siabel exhaled slowly, settling into the stillness that had returned.
Slave.
She’d encountered one of the monsters from outside.
Later, she learned that the poison on Slave’s Short Dagger was absolutely lethal.
A paralytic toxin, yes, but one so terrible it paralyzed even the human heart and brain, bringing death.
“Frontier lied to me.”
Siabel laughed softly.
He’d said it was nothing. That there was a sleep effect mixed in, so I’d just doze off.
All of it had been consideration—to put her at ease.
To let her sleep. To save her.
“A liar.”
Incompetent Frontier. Lazy Frontier.
That sluggard Frontier.
“……A liar.”
When she thought about it, his entire existence felt like a lie.
Whatever Frontier had done, however he’d done it, he’d brought down Slave. He’d defeated the monster from outside.
He assured Siabel, felled the demon outside, carried her to the Sanctuary of Truth, and cleared the dungeon.
Siabel could not forget Frontier from that moment.
“I don’t believe in gods.”
The words lodged in her mind, refusing to fade.
“Because I don’t believe in destiny.”
“Do you think he hates me?”
Siabel buried her face in her knees.
To a man who didn’t believe in destiny, wasn’t she standing at the opposite end? The blessed one, the fortunate one.
Frontier, who had no talent.
Siabel, blessed with luck and gift.
She couldn’t easily imagine what he felt each time he looked at her.
“…No! Why am I even worried about whether Frontier dislikes me!”
She jerked her head up, snapping back to herself.
Right. Originally, she wouldn’t have cared about someone like him at all.
The purpose of the lower dungeon was Aster Evans in the first place.
…And yet, even thinking that way…
‘Frontier doesn’t rely on destiny.’
Her thoughts would turn to him all the same.
Siabel had always believed in her good fortune.
But the dungeon exploration with Frontier—even at best—had not favored her luck.
She’d fallen into every dangerous trap. There were countless harrowing moments. If not for Frontier protecting her each time, by now she would have…
‘…I relied on luck.’
Everything she wanted had always fallen into her hands.
The circumstances she desired had always laid themselves out like sturdy rails beneath her feet.
But when she faced a situation beyond her luck, she felt how powerless she truly was.
She had never neglected her training.
Yet caught up in her fortune, had she come to take it for granted?
‘I want to ask.’
Frontier.
What he thinks of my luck.
What he thinks of me.
“…But no, it’s not like there’s anything strange about it.”
Siabel stared blankly at the hospital room door.
Siabel didn’t like waiting.
But now she had to wait.
Until she was discharged, went to Constel, and met Frontier again.
‘If only Frontier would open that door and come inside.’
But that wouldn’t happen.
Blessed by destiny as she was, but from now on she wouldn’t rely on it—
Creak—
“…Huh?”
The hospital room door opened.
And entering, a dark-haired man.
Languid eyes, a sleepy face.
Moving at a pace that seemed a beat behind everyone else.
It was Frontier.
Frontier spotted Siabel, and with that sleepy expression unchanged—
“Hey.”
He greeted her.
Siabel blinked those wide eyes several times, then thought to herself.
…Destiny, maybe I’ll believe in you a little longer.
* * *
“How are you feeling?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
When I came in, Siabel was already awake.
She had a vacant sort of expression.
Had she only just woken up?
‘This is troublesome.’
Truth be told, I’d hoped she’d be asleep when I arrived.
Then I could have secretly woven Artemis’s bow and tested whether Siabel’s hands could draw it.
“I, uh, thank you.”
“Hm?”
“For saving me. That poison was dangerous, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, right. I’m glad you’re fully recovered.”
“Yeah.”
Siabel offered her thanks, yet something made her hesitant.
She avoided my gaze, her small frame shifting like a nervous bird.
It was worse than when we’d been separated in the dungeon.
Siabel hadn’t let her guard down around me.
Which made sense, really.
People’s perceptions don’t change easily.
She’d opened her eyes in the General Hospital right after what happened with Slave Venom, so she had no idea what I’d actually done.
She’d only learned that I’d saved her from hearing it from others.
Information absorbed secondhand never quite lands the same way.
For Siabel to express gratitude this openly to the Human Sluggard Frontier was itself remarkable.
But then again, it didn’t matter.
What Siabel thought of me wasn’t really the issue.
She was still a villain, after all.
“By the way, so, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“What was the dungeon reward?”
Ah, that would be something she’d want to know.
Since I’d cleared the dungeon, only I knew what the reward was.
“…But how did you know?”
“Hm?”
“That I cleared the dungeon.”
“…Oh? Wait! Ah, I-I heard it! From Aster, and the teacher, and Quinne, and Aster and the teacher again!”
That was a lot of sources.
Did that mean she’d heard it from Aster and the teacher twice over?
…I couldn’t tell.
“The reward is, well, I’m not entirely sure myself.”
“Hm?”
“I obtained some kind of magical rune pattern.”
After the lower-rank dungeon, the Sanctuary of Truth, crumbled,
I acquired what’s called Menosorpo.
But when I tested it in front of the mansion, nothing happened.
Or rather, I couldn’t tell what happened.
I did expend mana, so it must have activated.
I’d hesitated a little when telling Siabel this.
One must be careful when handling information only I know.
I need to judge whether it benefits me or Aster before sharing such things.
But Menosorpo is information even I don’t have.
In the previous world, no player had cleared that lower-rank dungeon.
At this rate, I might never learn what Menosorpo even is.
In that case, it’s better to gather information from others.
Siabel is a villain, certainly, but her nature isn’t inherently evil.
“…If it’s a magical rune, should I ask my father?”
“Hm? Your father?”
“You know I use a rapier, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen it in class and in the dungeon.”
Though truthfully, I’d known from the very beginning, long before that.
“My rapier has magical runes engraved on it too. It’s at home so I can’t show you right now, but they strengthen durability and sharpness.”
As I’d noted before, Siabel fought primarily with cutting strikes rather than thrusts with her thin rapier blade.
So that’s how she could do that—thanks to the magical runes.
“My father engraved them for me. He’s a master artificer, very famous and accomplished. He might tell you if you ask!”
Siabel’s tone had grown bright with enthusiasm.
Her eyes gleamed.
Hearing her speak that way, something came back to me.
Daud Forte.
The grandmaster of magical rune crafting.
In Ethius, the people who interpret Magical Runes, those who create them, and those who engrave them onto weapons are ordinarily three separate professions.
Magical Runes typically activate on their own.
That is, engraving Magical Runes onto weapons as Siabel does is not the original purpose of the runes at all.
For this reason, those capable of doing both are exceptionally rare.
They can select and engrave Magical Runes tailored to the weapon itself and to the user’s needs.
Among such craftspeople, Daud Forte is counted among those of exceptional skill.
Even when I played as Aster, I met Daud frequently.
And yet.
“You’re really kind. Siabel. Thank you.”
I was honestly taken aback.
I hadn’t expected Siabel to do this much for me.
It seemed she felt greater gratitude toward me than I’d realized.
She was suppressing her disgust toward me the whole time.
“…Huh?”
At my words, Siabel went blank for a moment before
“No! What! Ha ha! No, this is—this is just the basics!”
she said, waving her arms about.
The basics?
Siabel was a woman of greater integrity than I’d given her credit for.

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