Chapter 243: Overcast

—

The weather today was awful.

When Will woke up, he was greeted by a completely “overcast” sky—not the kind that promised a refreshing downpour, but the kind that loomed oppressively.

The sky above was pitch black, not the usual soft, blended gray of a cloudy day.

It was as if the atmosphere itself was conspiring to pile even more pressure onto Will, who was already feeling the weight of meeting Treya.

And yet, something even stranger was happening…

—

Walking through the streets, Will noticed the city seemed even more solemn than before. There were fewer people on the streets, and most shops were either closed or eerily quiet.

But what truly unsettled him…

Was the sheer number of guards patrolling the streets.

Having lived in the capital for three years, Will was familiar with the city’s patrol routines. In all that time, he had never seen so many guards out at once.

Did something happen with the royal family again?

No, even if Emperor Edward had passed away, it wouldn’t warrant this level of security.

Pulling his hat lower over his face, Will quickened his pace, weaving through the guards until he reached the blacksmith’s shop.

And there, he encountered perhaps the only good news of the day.

—

“I haven’t had a customer this impatient in a long time. But hey, I love a good challenge,” the blacksmith said with a grin.

Will had braced himself for disappointment, expecting to hear that his order wasn’t ready yet.

Instead…

The Shadow Wraith Sword now rested comfortably in his hands.

It felt incredibly light. Though its blade was wider than a rapier’s, its weight was only about four-fifths that of a typical royal dueling sword.

For an agile swordsman, this was an ideal weapon!

And…

It was truly “black.”

The forging process hadn’t altered the material’s eerie color. Now that it had been shaped into a sword, its blackness seemed almost menacing—like it could cut through anything.

The most striking feature, however, was its hilt. The cursed cloth from the “demonic dungeon” had been wrapped around it like bandages. The texture was layered and ridged, providing an excellent grip.

“…Thank you so much!” Will exclaimed.

“It’s nothing. Your shield is ready too,” the blacksmith added casually.

“!!!”

Will blinked in surprise. He had been prepared to settle for just one completed item.

But…

The shield meant for Eir was also finished.

Its icy blue surface perfectly complemented Eir’s affinity for frost magic. More importantly…

“Why did you insist on putting paw prints on the shield? You’re a strange one,” the blacksmith remarked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s custom-made! It’s supposed to be unique!” Will replied defensively.

“Alright, alright. Now that these are done, I’m probably going to close up shop for good. If you need any follow-ups, don’t come looking for me here,” the blacksmith said with a sigh.

“…Huh?” Will froze mid-thought.

“I haven’t had much business lately. It’s about time I packed up and left. Even taking royal commissions isn’t stable work in this city anymore.”

The blacksmith’s words caught Will off guard. Glancing behind him, he noticed that the forge fire had already been extinguished—a clear sign that the shop wouldn’t be opening again today.

“So… where will you go next?” Will asked hesitantly.

“Not staying in the capital, that’s for sure. Doing business with adventurers is much better. I’ll probably move to a town near a dungeon. Speaking of which… you seem pretty familiar with adventurers. Don’t blacksmiths who work with them usually follow dungeons around?”

“……”

Will was momentarily speechless.

To him, “blacksmiths” and “blacksmith shops” were akin to fixed-function NPCs in games. No matter where you went, you could always find them—and they were always ready to help.

From a game design perspective, functional elements like this were meant to adapt to player needs but always remain accessible when needed.

…

But these were real people living in this world. And in this world’s setting, blacksmiths were highly skilled artisans who earned more than your average farmer.

Of course…

Since dungeons weren’t fixed locations and adventurers moved around frequently, these “functional NPCs” would naturally have to relocate to make a living.

At the same time…

They were also affected by the events and circumstances of this world, changing their locations accordingly.

This adaptability—of both people and objects—was part of what made this world feel so “real.”

“Cat got your tongue? Figures—someone like you probably wouldn’t know these little details. Don’t worry; I know plenty of other blacksmiths who can help me out,” the blacksmith said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You’re heading to the royal palace to see Princess Treya, aren’t you?”

“Uh… how did you…” Will trailed off, realizing he hadn’t exactly been subtle around this blacksmith. “…Yeah. I might head there this afternoon. She’s… been waiting for me for a long time.”

“I didn’t recognize you at first as the young master from those missing person notices plastered all over town.”

“…What?”

Will’s heart sank. Had he just given himself away?

“I’m too busy to scrutinize every customer who walks in here. But…” The blacksmith pointed across the street. “The guards started tearing down those notices earlier today. That’s when I noticed how much you resemble the guy on them.”

Tearing them down…?

Will’s eyes widened in shock.

He had avoided looking directly at his own missing person notices whenever he passed by them on the streets. He hated seeing his own face and always made an effort to avert his gaze.

“Everyone’s saying it must mean Princess Treya has already found you. Makes sense… doesn’t it?” The blacksmith squinted at Will with a knowing look.

“……”

—Strange, strange, strange.

—Why is this happening?

—Why would they do this?

“Uh… yeah… I’ll just… take my things and go,” Will stammered before quickly leaving the shop.

—

As he walked back “home,” Will scanned every wall along the streets with wide eyes—

They were gone. All gone.

The missing person notices that had once covered every corner of the city were nowhere to be seen.

All that remained were faint traces of glue on the walls where they had been posted.

Nothing else.

The guards had worked quickly—unsurprisingly so, given that this was a royal-controlled capital city.

“Hah… What… what is going on?” Will muttered as he shut his front door behind him. He leaned against it and placed Eir’s shield by the wall before staring at the wooden floorboards beneath his feet, breathing heavily.

His mind raced as he tried to piece together what little information he had. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t arrive at an answer.

Had Treya realized he was already in the capital?

It wasn’t impossible… but if she knew, why hadn’t she come straight to him?

Could it be that something else had happened within the royal family?

Damn it—if it was some major royal event, then surely it would’ve been mentioned in the original story. But try as he might, Will couldn’t recall anything relevant from his memory.

If only The Quest System were still within reach—he could flip through its pages and confirm everything step by step.

But now… things felt different somehow.

How should he put it…

The most unsettling part was that nothing seemed to have changed outwardly. Yet deep inside, Will felt an overwhelming sense of unease—similar to what he’d felt on the day he met Leah again.

For Will, there were two choices—

1. Walk out now, report to the guards, and request entry into the royal palace.

2. Leave the capital immediately. Something felt off; it might be better to regroup and return later when things settled down.

And this choice… needed to be made quickly.

Which…

Which should he choose?

Will—who was so used to being the one pressuring others—now found himself unable to escape his own mounting anxiety.

“Come on… Tell me—”

As Will Hysterm—as the trusted leader of his team—as someone who had personally nurtured these girls—

And as someone Treya needed now more than ever—

He looked down at the sword in his hand—a weapon forged with exceptional craftsmanship and undeniable strength.

“Let’s go.”

With those words, he opened the door.