My Quiet Blacksmith Life in Another World: Volume 1

Prologue: The Hero and the Demon Queen

Within the deepest recesses of the demon kingdom, there stood a castle with a throne room at its heart—here, the Demon Queen reigned over the land.

In this place, two enemies were locked in combat.

One was a handsome young man, whose lithe physique belied a fierce inner strength. He was equipped with a full set of armor and a slender longsword, both forged from silver. Overall, he was a remarkable example of a hero.

His opponent, the wielder of a black rapier, could have been mistaken for a bewitching woman, except for the ram horns sprouting from her head and the sinister robe that enshrouded her. She was the mistress of this castle—the Demon Queen.

Without exchanging a single word, the two fighters lunged toward one another, their swords clashing in the middle. The Demon Queen met the hero’s brutal slash head-on, and although the rapier was slimmer than the hero’s longsword, her blade blocked the attack with ease. A lesser sword would have snapped in two.

They disengaged for a moment, only to jump back into the fray. This time, the hero repelled the Demon Queen’s thrust with the flat of his blade. His longsword readily absorbed the impact, deflecting a blow that would have pierced clean through a regular sword.

Their blades met again and again, as both parties wielded their chosen weapons with perfect confidence. The battle wore on, and eventually, their expressions took on identical shades of bewilderment. Both the hero and the Demon Queen had equipped themselves with a god-tier weapon, so it was unfathomable to them that this battle had not yet ended. The same thought lingered in each fighter’s mind—shouldn’t my opponent’s weapon have long reached its limit under this assault?

Their shared puzzlement soon brought them to a halt. They both lowered their swords simultaneously.

The hero spoke first. Demon Queen, I have a question for you, unrelated to our fight.

Fine, she replied. I have one for you as well, likely along the same lines.

Then, if I may. Which blacksmith forged your sword?

Just as I suspected, she remarked. I wanted to ask who forged yours.

It must’ve been...

Yes. A certain stubborn and grizzled blacksmith made my rapier, the Demon Queen confirmed. She sheathed the weapon and showed her blade’s pommel to the hero. Imprinted upon it was a plump cat squatting on its haunches.

The hero turned his own pommel to face the Demon Queen, displaying the same insignia. I see. Damn that geezer.

The Demon Queen sighed. He must’ve forged both of our weapons knowing that this was going to happen. How conniving.

There’s no point in fighting any longer, the hero said.

We could always see whose strength fails first.

It’s clear that we’re equal in that regard.

True, the Demon Queen conceded. No matter which one of us wins, ultimately exhaustion would leave the victor vulnerable to attack. It’s meaningless to continue.

Well then, I suppose there’s only one option.

Yes—let’s agree to a truce, at least during our generation.

"I’ll let him know too, all right?" said the hero.

Go ahead. I have no objections. If we tell him, then neither of us will draw his ire, and it will keep us both in check. After all, it would be troublesome if one of us offended that humorless grump, and he backed the other’s side.

Okay, I’ll proceed as discussed. Until we meet again.

Farewell, hero, the Demon Queen said, turning on her heel. Now then, I must prepare a proclamation...

They exited the throne room in opposite directions. Although the air had been thick with tension at the beginning of the battle, the hero and the Demon Queen—polar opposites in all regards—now wore the same expression of wry amusement as they recalled a blacksmith whose commonplace features were weathered by age.

Chapter 1: My Life Begins in Another World

When I woke up, I was on my back, and a cloudless blue sky hung high above me. Sitting up, I realized that I’d awoken in a woodland clearing surrounded by lush, green plant life. At a glance, it looked like any other forest in Japan, but that was impossible. I was no longer on Earth, or even in the same universe.

I was now in a completely new world.

⌗⌗⌗

Our story began on a day like any other.

Back on Earth, I used to work as a software engineer, toiling away seven days a week plus holidays and overtime in order to meet my release deadlines. One night, I was on my way home after work. It was around midnight, and I was heading toward the train station. Exhaustion had already claimed me, and I was dead on my feet, but then I saw a stray cat stagger onto the road. It seemed as unsteady as I was, and as I looked on, it stumbled right into the middle of the street.

Suddenly, I noticed that a truck was barreling straight for it.

Maybe the driver was drowsy or on their phone; maybe they were just being careless. Regardless, they showed no sign of slowing down at all and gave no indication that they’d even seen the cat. I was also barely managing to stay awake at that moment, so my speculation could be unreliable.

As soon as I processed what was happening, I sprinted for the cat. The truck and I were converging from different directions, and the race was on. It was anyone’s guess who might reach the cat first—the truck had me beat in terms of speed, but I’d started closer to my target.

I rapidly closed in on the cat, lifted it up by the torso, and flung it out of the way. Unfortunately, considering what happened next, the truck won our contest by a landslide. What did it win, you ask? That’s a discussion for another time.

There was a sickening thud. The impact knocked me off my feet and tossed me into the air. Nonsensically, some stories about parents lifting vehicles to save their kids rushed through my head as everything faded to black.

⌗⌗⌗

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before I’d awoken, or to be more precise, regained consciousness. A blank white expanse surrounded me, and I was floating within it. I couldn’t even see my own body, but I felt both perfectly alert and half asleep at the same time. It was as if I’d been suspended in a vague state of semi-existence.

Hey, you’re awake? The words were delivered in the voice of a young woman.

If you can call it that, then yes, I replied, confused by my current perception of reality.

I wasn’t exactly hearing her (I assumed that the voice belonged to a woman). To clarify, no sound waves were reaching my ears. I also wasn’t really speaking, since speech was defined as air passing from the lungs through the vocal cords to produce vibrations. Telepathy might be the most fitting term for our communication; she was projecting her thoughts toward me, and likewise, I sent my thoughts toward her. It was a circuitous interpretation of a conversation.

Looks like I’ve managed to preserve your soul, even if I had to overreach my authority to do so, said the voice.

What do you mean? I asked.

In short, you died in your world. Normally, your soul would’ve been disassembled and repurposed into new resources, she explained. You were a software engineer, right? In technical terms, the section of memory containing your soul would’ve been deallocated if I hadn’t locked it first. I wasn’t supposed to do that though.

I more or less understand the situation, I said. So, now what?

I felt oddly serene, even though she’d just casually informed me that I was dead.

That’s good. I want you to stay calm. I’m terribly sorry, but I’ve had to temporarily rewire your consciousness to suppress your fear of dying. Otherwise, your soul would start to deteriorate—in other words, the garbage collector would’ve seen the flag for deallocation and automatically deleted your soul to free up memory. At that point, you would’ve ceased to exist both physically and figuratively.

All right, I said, still at peace.

Thank you for your understanding. Moving along, do you remember saving a stray cat?

Yes, of course. I love cats.

That’s right. Although I was over forty and my looks regularly attracted police attention, I loved small animals and was particularly fond of cats. That day, I’d been physically worn out from the combination of my advancing age and lots of consecutive overtime; I’d been mentally exhausted from burnout.

My love of cats was the final star in a miraculous constellation—albeit, an unlucky one—and the result was an unthinkable heroic dash to my death.

All of that rambling boiled down to one simple statement: I love cats.

That cat was me, said the voice. I was on duty as a Watchdog, but of course, that means nothing to you. Let’s see, are you familiar with parallel universe theory?

Yes, it often appears in sci-fi and fantasy, I replied.

Good. That’ll make this conversation easier. My job is to patrol different universes and watch for catastrophic cross-world events. That is, any event in one world that would negatively impact another.

I sensed a trace of pride in her not-voice. Indeed, it was a job that no human could perform. That’s pretty impressive, I said honestly.

There are pros and cons to the job, but more cons, I’d say.

I guess I shouldn’t have bothered with the compliment.

In any case, yes, it’s not something that just anyone can do. There are dire consequences if a Watchdog misses a warning sign and allows an event to proceed unhindered. Anyway, enough about me—back to the explanation. She sat up straighter (at least, that’s how it felt to me) and carried on. While I was patrolling your world as a cat, I made a mistake that should’ve led to my death. That’s when you saved me. Currently, we’re in a liminal space that I can access.

Could that truck really have killed you? I asked straight out. It’d be a vital flaw in the system for someone with such a critical responsibility to be mortal, just the same as any other living being.

My temporary body would’ve died, but not my soul. My body for any given world is chosen from the native fauna, and my physical abilities are limited accordingly. It’d be hard for me to pass unnoticed otherwise. This way, even if I die, I leave no trace. However, dying is still a major problem because I can’t fulfill my duty until I get another body. I’m sure that losing your physical body has left you in a bit of a pickle too.

A pickle, she said, as if this wasn’t the biggest mess I’d ever been in.

Anyway, she continued, I have one caveat to add to our parallel universes discussion. Do you think that most worlds only differ from each other in trivial ways?

Yes, as far as I know. At least, that’s the way it’s portrayed in books and games.

Here are two comparative scenarios: In one world, you decide to stop for a drink after work, thus causing you to take a train that happens to be delayed, so you return home very late. In another world, you go straight home without a hitch. Do you think this is how multiverse theory functions?

Seems right.

To be blunt, that’s not how it works. Worlds aren’t actually created on the turn of a dime. In our example, your decision to get a drink becomes part of that world’s natural equilibrium. If you were to go straight home on your regular train instead, you would throw off the balance.

The disembodied voice continued, Maybe you arrive home early and overhear a couple arguing. You report it to the police. The couple’s relationship crumbles. As a result, they never give birth to a child, and the harmony of the world is disrupted. The whole thing is a bit more nuanced, but the saying still applies—there are no might-have-beens in history.

The explanation made sense as long as I didn’t think about it too hard. I kept quiet and urged her to continue.

"I’ve gotten a little sidetracked, but in a nutshell, that’s how parallel worlds work. Needless to say, since universes don’t infinitely branch off each other, there aren’t any clones of you in worlds similar to your own. There’s only you, and you weren’t supposed to have died yet. When you saved my life at the expense of your own, you introduced a bug into the system—one that affects the world, your own life, and mine as well. Three fates were changed, each in a different way, and world alterations are preventable only if we fill the hole you’ve left behind. The quickest way to restore balance would’ve been to rewrite the timeline and say that you miraculously survived without a scratch. However, that road is closed to us. Fundamentally, my job as a Watchdog is to report on the state of the multiverse; my accounts of events are logged in many different worlds. Because I witnessed it, your death in that world cannot be reversed."

Our conversation had taken a drastic turn for the worse. Then it sounds like we’re out of options. Why did you bother preserving my soul? I asked.

"There is one more option. We can find a replacement for you in your world, and then send you to a different one," she replied.

That’s possible? From what you’ve said so far, it doesn’t seem like that would be allowed, I remarked.

Hmm, how do I put this? she pondered aloud. There are several worlds that are experiencing the same predicament as yours; those universes contain voids where someone’s existence should be. We can send people across the multiverse to fill those open spaces. That said, you’ll have to choose from the worlds in my docket, so there’s a limited number of places you can go.

Basically, you’re swapping me with someone else, right? I asked.

You catch on quick! That’s the gist of it. You’d still be considered dead in your original world, but you can live on in a new one.

I see. Can I ask a question?

Of course. Please do, she said.

Why keep me alive at all?

Oh, right. I was going to get to that. One reason is for my peace of mind; I wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing that someone died because of my mistake. Don’t tell anyone I said that though. I want you to remember that we need to preserve the system’s equilibrium.

Strangely, I find it hard to accept that you’re now asking me to take this in stride, I said. In any case, I don’t have a choice, right?

I’m sorry, but no, you don’t. However, you’ll be able to choose your destination. Plus, in your new world, you’ll be granted certain privileges—cheat abilities. They won’t be anything that’d break the rules of the world or the multiverse, so rest assured, you can ask for whatever you want.

Let’s see... I said, taking my time to think. My cheat ability couldn’t be so overpowered that it would throw the world off-kilter, huh? How do I make the most out of my second shot at life?

After a moment, I had my answer. Well, I like making scale models and working with my hands in my time off, so I’d like to live in a place—preferably alone—where I can create things for a living. I’d like a compatible skill set for that life. And as I said before, I like cats, so if I could have a quiet life with a cat as a companion, I’d have no complaints.

All right, she said, pausing to consider the options. Out of the available candidates, the world that would best accommodate your requests is a typical fantasy realm with swords and sorcery. How does that sound?

Fine by me.

All right. Now, on to your skills. What do you want to make?

I’ve always wanted to try swordsmithing, I suggested.

Then a blacksmith would likely be the most fitting profession. You’ll need language and crafting skills. I can also throw in some fighting skills for your self-defense. As a trade-off, you’ll have the bare minimum in magical ability, but you won’t need it for day-to-day life anyway. What do you think?

Sounds good to me.

Last but not least, she continued, how old do you want to be? Pick whatever age calls to you, whether it’s ten years old or seventy. You won’t want to be too old, I suppose, but it’s all the same to me.

Hmmm, I don’t want to be a kid again... But that said, I did want enough time to enjoy my second life. I gave it some thought and landed on something in the middle.

⌗⌗⌗

After I gave an answer, my consciousness slowly faded...and when I woke up, I was already in this forest. I stood up cautiously, expecting some dizziness, but I shouldn’t have been worried. I looked down at my hands, but I couldn’t tell whether I was now the age that I’d requested. Hands change slowly over time, I suppose.

As I took a breath, a sharp pain lanced through my head.

While your body is adjusting to the new environment, you may get a headache. That’s proof that your new skills, knowledge, and memories are syncing up with your body, so don’t worry.

So this is what she’d meant. Did it have to hurt this much? She wasn’t going to give me any particularly powerful skills anyway, I grumbled to myself.

I’ll prepare a place where you can live and work as a blacksmith, along with some provisions, like food and ingredients.

Or so she’d said, but looking around, there was nothing that stood out among the trees. Maybe it wasn’t around here. While it was unlikely that she would’ve purposefully started me far away from my would-be home, it wasn’t impossible. It’d be extremely irritating if that were the deal though. In the worst-case scenario, the place could be so far away that I’d never find it. This clearing where I’d woken up would’ve been the perfect spot for a house, but it was currently empty, so I struck out to explore my surroundings.

When I stepped into the forest proper, the fresh, woodsy scent hit me anew. The sunlight filtered through the foliage, and it was pleasantly cool beneath the trees. The leaves rustled gently, along with the occasional chitter and patter above me. There must’ve been some small animals playing amongst the branches.

The trees themselves were no different from those in my original world. Elegant and tall, each tree was a pillar that held up the sky with its crown. I touched one of the trunks; the rough bark felt the same as well. As far as I could tell, there weren’t any dryads emerging from the woodwork either.

I heard a scratching sound in the branches close by. Looking over, I saw a green, squirrel-like creature pop out from amongst the leaves. I’d never heard of any squirrels with green fur back on Earth, so this creature must’ve been unique to this world. Seeing its appearance struck home the fact that I was in a new universe!

I was so excited that I walked toward it without thinking. It shrunk back in fear, and I soon came to my senses. Even if it looked adorable, with its chubby cheeks and round eyes, it might be a dangerous animal. Maybe it was even venomous. I was in a completely unfamiliar environment, so I had to be on my guard.

When my headache subsided, a great torrent of knowledge flooded my mind. It was as if I’d just installed a new knowledge base. At least now I wouldn’t be done in by my own ignorance. It would’ve been pathetic if I were decapitated for unwittingly insulting a noble, for example. However, even though the newly installed data had come with a general picture of this world, including information about the fauna, I didn’t know any of the nitty-gritty details. What kind of habits did that green squirrel have? Was it venomous? I wished I had someone to guide me.

My stroll had yielded no great discoveries, so I turned back around and suddenly caught sight of something large back where I’d come from.

What in the world? I muttered. It definitely hadn’t been there when I’d first passed through. Or maybe it’d been invisible, who knows?

The large something turned out to be a small log cabin. I guessed this was where I was supposed to live. The cabin looked safe enough, but I approached it with caution nonetheless. As I drew closer, I could instinctively perceive that there was no one inside.