With a body that has nothing to do with aging, it is difficult, if not impossible, to discern the age of a high elf from their appearance.

However, the dwarves, bearded men neither old nor young, are equally creatures whose age is difficult to discern.

So when I heard the story, I opened my mouth so wide that it looked as if my jaw was about to come off, and I looked like a stunned idiot.


It was the tenth year of my apprenticeship with that Damn Dwarf shishou, yes, the tenth year.

A letter from his hometown of the Dwarves has arrived, asking the shitty dwarf master to marry his fiancée and take over the family.

Since he had earned a reputation as one of the best blacksmiths not only in the town of Vistkort, but also in the Kingdom of Ludria, they thought that his training in the human society would be enough.

In essence, it was a request to return, from the land of the dwarves.


The life span of dwarves is said to be three to five times longer than that of humans, or about 200 to 300 years.

And the shitty Dwarf shishou will be ninety years old in a few years.

In other words, in human terms, he was a young man in his late twenties or thirties.


I had thought that he was close to old age because of his confident and dignified behavior and his excellent blacksmithing skills, but it was a tremendous shock to me.

Moreover, her fiancé is too unsuitable for him, and even though I know it’s rude, I hold my stomach and laugh.


Yeah, of course, when I laughed, I was immediately beaten with all his might.



Well, aside from that, it is certainly a good time.

In addition to me, a number of other people have been apprenticed to fucking dwarf shishou over the past decade.

There are quite a few of them who left because they couldn’t do it, but many of them became reasonably good and went out on their own.

…… Or rather, the only people who apprenticed themselves to the dwarves were, in fact, those who had already learned blacksmithing somewhere else and were recognized as full-fledged smiths.

It is common knowledge in the world of blacksmithing that a completely inexperienced person would be so arrogant as to try to learn from a Dwarf.


Well, I didn’t know that.

Although I was taken aback by the people who joined his apprenticeship later, Damn Dwarf shishou still accepted me, so I guess our relationship is fine.

Anyway, even if the fucking dwarf shishou is no longer in this town, Vistkort, there won’t be a shortage of blacksmiths.

Because the seed he sowed has sprouted and become a magnificent tree in this town.


I feel a little lonely, but it’s the right time for me too.

The changes that occurred in the last decade have not only been the increase in the number of blacksmiths.


For example, the White Lake, the best team in town, the team that rose to the highest rank of adventurer, the Seven star, disbanded three years ago.

The reason is that Cleias, the warrior, and Martena, the priest, got married and had a child together.

And above all, being humans, their peak physical performance is short.

Retire and produce and nurture the next generation before you decline and make irreversible mistakes.

That would have been the right decision.


Because of her being an elf, Airena, who is still unaffected by such decline, set off in search of new companions, unable to give up on her exciting days of adventure even after they broke up.

Perhaps she wanted me to come with her.

But she knew that I would not give up the blacksmithing business halfway, so she said goodbye with a smile and gave motherly advice on my daily life, and set off on her journey.


Rodner, who was the gatekeeper when I came to town, has risen through the ranks in the last decade and become the captain of the town guard.


Although he is no longer on guard duty to guard the gate, the trust of the town’s residents to them has not diminished in the slightest.

Even now, I still occasionally share a drink and a meal with Rodner in that diner.


Astre, who was once a young boy, is now a full-fledged warrior, and as I recall, he was recently promoted to a five-star rank.

I was happy to say that he is one of the adventurers who are successful enough, although he is still far from being sufficiently successful like the White Lake.


Ten years is not a long time for me as a high elf, though.

But the past ten years have been by far the most intense time of my life, more so than all of the 150 years of life I’ve had before.

And a lot of that is thanks to the fucking dwarf master who took me on as an apprentice, even though he called me a fucking elf.


“……So, I’m going back to the Dwarf country, but what are you going to do?”

Such a benefactor asks me so.


Yes, what the hell, should I do?

There are a lot of things that interest me.


“Sword…… and also magic, huh.
I think I’ll go to a dojo or a magic academy in the royal capital.
Fortunately, I have a lot of money saved up.”

I’ve saved up some money working at this store for the last ten years…….
After I left the inn and bought a house, for some reason, Airena moved into my house because she was still worried about me, and left a large amount of money as rent.

So I had enough assets to learn sword and magic without being forced to work.


“Hah, even though you can borrow the power of spirits, you want to become magician? You’re still the same guy whom I can’t understand.
Well, it’s fine.
No matter what you do, shitty…… No, it won’t change that Acer is my best disciple and friend.”


To my surprise, he called my name for the first time when he said that.

He turns his face away in embarrassment.

Yeah, it doesn’t suit him enough that it’s making me laugh.


But I couldn’t laugh. I didn’t know anything about it until then, but when one is really happy, when one is overjoyed, it seems that what comes out is not a smile, but tears.

It is only when he calls me that I realize, from the bottom of my heart, that this “Acer” is my name.


“Ah, hahaha…….
What also is this, it doesn’t suit me at all.
I’m an elf, …… As a High Elf, I cannot go to the land of the Dwarves, but I will never forget that you, Asvald, is my mentor and my friend.”


I said this in a trembling voice and held out my right hand, which was strongly grasped by my friend, Asvald.

With that he, smirked.


“What the hell, it doesn’t suit you.
The good thing about you is that you are crazy enough to go where you want to go without hesitation.
…… but Acer, you were a high elf, huh”



Laughing, Asvald releases his clenched hand and then pokes me in the chest with his fist.


But for some reason, the pain is gentle and comforting.

I don’t think we’ll ever be able to have an exchange like this again.


But he never lost his smile.


Then fifty years.
After fifty years, come to the land of the dwarves.
I will be the best blacksmith in the land of the dwarves, and I will take the throne so that the elves can come and play.
So when that happens, you can proudly call yourself my disciple.”


So he said.

The most important asset for a dwarf is his blacksmithing skills.

If you are good at blacksmithing, you will get all the respect of those around you, social status, and more.

This includes, surprisingly, even the throne.


Yes, that means I am the friend and foremost apprentice of the future king of the dwarves.


Ah, what an honor that would be.


“……if so, I’ll keep moving forward, or at least one step forward, so that my arm doesn’t slow down.”

He nodded at my words, and a month later, he returned to the land of the dwarves.


Asvald, the blacksmith shop left by his master was taken over by one of his apprentices.

And in my hand, I have a senior blacksmith license issued by the Blacksmith Guild.

This was something that could be used not only in the Kingdom of Ludria, but in any country around here, and was a kind of proof that I was a first-class blacksmith.

In the blacksmith union, where the influence of the dwarves is strong, there had been strong opposition to issuing this license to me, an elf.

However, my teacher silenced these protests with his arms, mouth, and fists, and he came and got me a certificate as a senior blacksmith.


In short, yes, I am proud of this.


I spent the next few weeks borrowing a forge from my co-apprentice, who had taken over the shop, and carving a single knife from the fangs of the Granwolf.

Carefully, carefully, little by little, little by little.


So, with the finished knife hanging from my waist, I left the town of Vistkort.


For the first time in a long time, I pull out one Apua fruit that hasn’t decayed even after ten years of being picked, and bite into it.

It takes about ten days to reach the royal capital by carriage.

It will take longer if one walks.

But since it was a good opportunity, I planned to walk all the way to the royal capital, basking in the afterglow of having completed the best masterpiece I’ve made in the past decade.

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