Chapter 533: High-Grade Earplugs

“Fabienne, I need you to return to the compounding room and make some beginner-grade stamina recovery potions. While you’re doing that, I’ll head to the magic tool workshop and make some earplugs. Lionel, I’m counting on you to look after Fabienne.”

“Understood,” she replied.

“Leave it to me,” Lionel said.

Being relied upon must have made her happy—Fabienne’s voice sounded noticeably brighter. Lionel, too, answered with a steady, dependable tone. With that, the two of them turned back the way we had come and quickly disappeared from sight.

That settled things on that end. If we could keep supplying beginner-grade stamina recovery potions without interruption, the working conditions here should improve at least a little.

A more black-company atmosphere? Don’t be ridiculous. That couldn’t possibly be the case.

“Nero, let’s go. We’re heading out too.”

“Yes. This way, Julius-sama.”

We retraced our steps once more, this time making for the magic tool workshop. They had asked us to stop by anyway, so the timing was perfect. We could exchange greetings and take care of what we needed to make at the same time.

With Nero guiding the way, we reached the magic tool workshop without getting lost once inside the castle. It was as if a complete map of the castle had already been etched into his mind. Since when did that happen? He’d grown so capable before I even realized it… sniff.

“So this is the place. If I remember correctly, the weapon workshop and the magic tool workshop are combined here, right? I wonder how the researchers are doing.”

“Let’s go inside and see right away.”

Saying that, Nero knocked on the heavy-looking, dark-brown wooden door. He knocked several times before it finally opened. Maybe we should have sent word ahead of time. I might have been a bit too hasty. It was probably a busy hour.

“Yes, who might you be—oh! Well, well! Isn’t this the hero who saved our kingdom!”

“…Huh?”

I reflexively looked at Nero, and he looked back at me. The hero should be Erwin-sama, shouldn’t it? Why was I being called that?

Seeing our confusion, the man seemed to realize what was going on. Still smiling, he ushered us inside while explaining.

“Your confusion is understandable. We only call you that here, in this workshop alone. After all, you were the central figure in repairing the Holy Sword. On top of that, there are rumors going around about that ‘legendary armor’ as well.”

“Ah… I see. I think I understand the situation now. This is really just between us, right?”

“Yes. Strictly between us.”

Why did he look so delighted? Was it because this was a secret known only to us and the people of this workshop?

And as I suspected, there were indeed people who knew about the legendary armor. That meant it must have shown its power during Erwin-sama’s battle with the Bone Dragon.

Perhaps it was enshrined together with the Holy Sword afterward. If so, it would naturally raise the question of where that armor had come from. And that question must have reached this workshop as well. Combined with the Holy Sword restoration, it probably didn’t take much for them to connect the dots.

“Everyone, Julius-sama has arrived!”

“Oooooh! It’s been so long, Julius-sama! You’ve grown so much… I’ll go call the researchers at once!”

With that, several craftsmen dashed off at full speed. “Grown so much,” they said—but it had only been a few months since then. I didn’t think I’d grown that much. And why were they getting teary-eyed?

While I stood there bewildered, events continued to move forward on their own.

“Earlier, a knight came by asking to borrow magic stones and iron plates, saying they were for Julius-sama to use. Are you planning to make some new equipment? Or perhaps a magic tool?”

“Ah—no, that’s actually…”

It seemed Lionel had borrowed magic stones and iron plates from this workshop. In that case, I really should explain the situation properly. So I told them what I intended to do, and about the purification powder.

“To think there was a way to restore that utterly hopeless land… As expected of Julius-sama.”

“As expected of the hero, Julius-sama!”

“Um, if possible, I’d really like to move away from the whole ‘hero’ thing…”

It didn’t seem likely to work, but I said it anyway. A wise person once said that the moment you give up is when it’s all over.

The craftsmen listened to my story with tears streaming down their faces. Apparently, intense emotional highs and lows were just part of the national character of the Kingdom of Raven. Let’s go with that explanation. Otherwise, there was no way to make sense of this situation.

Soon, the researchers arrived as well—the same people I’d worked with to restore the Holy Sword. Seeing their healthy faces again after so long made me genuinely happy.

The craftsmen immediately relayed my story to them. Then the researchers started crying too. This was absolute chaos. I’d only come here to make earplugs. If anything, the greetings were just a bonus.

“So, um… I’d like to make some earplugs. Would it be all right if you shared some materials with me?”

“Of course! Please use anything you like. We’ll help as well. After all, striking magic stone against magic stone is bound to make a tremendous noise.”

The craftsmen seemed to agree wholeheartedly. They immediately got to work on making the earplugs. The material was a type of wood with a sponge-like texture, usually used as cushioning for armor. It worked surprisingly well for earplugs too—though it was a bit on the firm side.

We cut it into various sizes. The shape was conical, with the tip carefully rounded so it wouldn’t cause injury. I recommended this shape to the craftsmen as well. They had been making cylindrical ones, but I thought this would be easier to insert and provide a better fit.

The craftsmen quickly tried on the finished earplugs, eager to test the result. As expected of professionals—curiosity about the final product came naturally to them.

“I see… this shape really does fit better. It also feels less likely to come loose than the previous ones.”

“I agree. From now on, perhaps we should use this shape—”

They stopped mid-sentence and turned their eyes toward me. Since I was the one who’d suggested it, they were probably worried about rights or ownership.

But I had no intention of claiming anything like that. If there were people who needed earplugs, I wanted them to be free to make them however they liked.

“If you like this shape, then please use it from now on. If it helps someone, there’s nothing better than that.”

I said it with a smile. Every word was sincere.

And yet—why? Why were they all quietly crying again?

It was incredibly awkward, but dwelling on it would only make things worse. I focused instead on crafting high-grade earplugs, determined to save those poor souls condemned to the punishment of crushing magic stones.