Chapter 1: Too Beautiful to Call Hell

During the gathering of weapon lovers at Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger’s mansion, Count Maximillion Shander made a secret deal with the Marquis. Behind the scenes, there were peace talks proceeding between their kingdom and the neighboring country with whom they were at war. The Marquis said that it might be necessary to give the Count’s katana as a peace offering and asked for his cooperation if it were to come to that.

Maximillion carried feelings of anxiety and uncertainty in his heart, but also a faint sense of excitement. Perhaps it was a chance for him to step out onto the world stage.

On the way back from the Eldenburger domain to the Shander domain, Count Maximillion sat in the middle of the three-carriage escort. Sitting with him was his personal enchanter, the old man Gerhard, who had become something akin to an advisor to him as of late, as well as Gerhard’s apprentice, the high-ranking knight, Djoser.

Gerhard studied the sword that the Count had received from the Marquis with great interest. “Hmmm...”

So, this was the sword that was passed down through the generations of the house of Eldenburger, the one that the head of the house would use when they stood on the battlefield? It was incredibly valuable simply as a sword, while also bearing notable historical value. Gerhard had no qualms with it being called the treasure of the house of Eldenburger.

When the Count first said that he had left the Kikokuto with the Marquis, Gerhard honestly thought he had gone and done something incredibly stupid, but after seeing that sword, he was convinced that there was nothing else that could be seen to be of equal value.

A battle raged in Gerhard’s mind between the side of him that was simply excited to look over the treasure of the Eldenburger house and the side that felt his heart freeze over at the loss of the Kikokuto. He had no idea what sort of face he should be making.

Djoser looked over at his master with worried eyes. “Master, how do you appraise that sword?”

“Hmm. The cutting edge looks good, it seems rather durable, and it has a certain beauty to it. However...”

“However?”

“It lacks flair.” Gerhard returned the sword to its sheath with a sigh.

Gerhard asked permission from his lord, who was sitting in front of him, to allow Djoser to inspect the sword up close as well, and Maximillion gave an approving nod.

When Djoser received the sword, he began to study the blade as Gerhard had. It was a fine blade, but that was as far as it went. There was nothing in particular that left a deeper impression on him.

“Master, does a sword really need to have flair or some kind of seductive quality?”

“Not really,” Gerhard responded.

“Ah, right...”

The words of his master were rather apathetic indeed.

“In terms of usability, a sword doesn’t need flair, seductiveness, or a beautiful blade. The ornamentation of the saya or sheath can be summed up in one word: useless. However, even still, to truly live your life with a katana, to entrust your life to a katana, it can’t just be a tool for cutting things. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? You’ve got to understand.”

“I don’t understand.”

While Djoser had recently started to understand some of the charm of katana, it seemed he was still far from the level of passion that his master demonstrated.

Even Ricardo, who had once made fun of people who treated katana as if they were human, was now leading the charge of the katana lovey-dovey brigade. He would hold his katana close to him and start ranting about it. Tsubaki did this, Tsubaki did that... There were few things that Djoser found more irritating.

Djoser could understand the feeling of a young man wanting to brag about his love life, but his partner was a damn katana. How was someone supposed to react after listening to all that?

I really am the last sane person here.

Seeing his master and his lord share a nod of intimate understanding, Djoser felt somewhat alienated.

“Do you not feel somewhat lonely without the Kikokuto by your side?” asked Gerhard.

Maximillion tilted his head in thought. “I’m sure that about now, the Kikokuto is making all kinds of sounds in his strong hands. More vibrant sounds than it ever made with me...”

Still unsure of how their lord was feeling as he was saying such a thing, the two of them couldn’t just casually agree with him.

“When we get back to the castle, I intend to train so that I can wield the Marquis’s sword as well. Thinking about that, how should I put it...” Maximillion hid his mouth with his hand, but from the tone of his voice, it was obvious that he was smiling. “I’m a bit excited, actually.”

As Maximillion let out a twisted laugh, Djoser looked at him with a tired gaze.

Even my lord has succumbed to this madness...

It seemed that everyone who was involved with one of Lutz’s katana changed like that. Would Djoser fall to the same fate someday? Would he be calling his sword my cute little Knight Killer and going to sleep with it in his arms? If he were asked to lend it to someone else, would he lose his mind in anger? He simply couldn’t imagine it.

“Just to make sure, Master, you aren’t going to start trying to lick your katana or anything, are you?”

While his master was also a person who was easily influenced by his surroundings, Djoser believed him to be someone who still valued his pride, or rather, he had endeavored to protect that pride by setting a line he refused to cross.

“In my case, you see, when I look at my katana, I can’t help but see the face of an old bastard about the same age as me.” There was a tint of melancholy in Gerhard’s voice.

Gerhard’s friend of several decades, Borbus, had died whilst forging the beloved katana that now rested on Gerhard’s hip. While he could see the katana as a friend, he certainly couldn’t see it as a lover. Besides, the idea of holding such feelings for a katana was ridiculous.

With a loud thud, the carriage jolted as it came to an abrupt stop. Something was off. They should have still been quite far from where they were planning to stay for the night.

“What is it?!” Djoser yelled through the small window to the coachman.

They turned to him with a confused expression. “Maybe it’s somebody’s idea of a prank. The road ahead is blocked by a bunch of large logs. I’ll go ahead and clear them out of the way, so just wait a moment.”

“Wait!” Djoser yelled to the coachman and other servants who were about to get off the carriage. “It’s a trap. All noncombatants, don’t set foot outside of the carriage.”

Gerhard had already hopped out of the carriage as if it were just business as usual.

Djoser grabbed hold of his Knight Killer and gave a bow to his lord. “Your Grace, if there are any bandits, I will be sure to kill every single one of them.”

“I look forward to your victory in battle.” Maximillion’s face was pale, but he answered Djoser with dignity and grace.

That was the lord that Djoser had dedicated himself to. He was a man worth risking his life for. With his will invigorated, he jumped out of the carriage.

With that, Gerhard and Djoser, as well as one more person from the front carriage, stepped out onto the road. The other man was the personal adventurer of the Shander house, the hero, Ricardo.

Studying the profile of Ricardo’s face as he looked around with an intense caution, Djoser thought about how much Ricardo had changed as well. A little while back, Djoser had just thought of him as a talented young man. However, his innate talent still hadn’t manifested as true strength. There was a clear imbalance within him. Because of that, the title of hero just came off as a bit of a joke. Looking at Ricardo now, though, he had an air of maturity, a certain presence. He seemed motivated to become a swordsman worthy of his beloved katana. It was reassuring to have him there alongside them.

There were no foes in sight, but they could feel murderous desire hanging in the air. As they continued to stay on guard, they suddenly heard the sharp sound of a blade splitting through the wind as it flew their way. It was an iron axe, spinning as it headed directly toward Gerhard.

“How naive!” In a flash, Gerhard swung down his beloved katana, Ittetsu, splitting the axe cleanly in two, the pieces dropping unceremoniously to the floor. “You fools! Don’t you dare challenge us with such cheap toys!”

From the sound of Gerhard’s booming voice, the bandits were certain that they were dealing with someone rather experienced, even if they weren’t entirely sure what he was going on about. One by one, they stepped out into the open.

There were ten of them, wearing filthy armor that didn’t even fit them properly. They had likely stolen it from somewhere. They were many in numbers, but few in strength.

While the Count’s entourage technically outnumbered the bandits, most were noncombatants.

A man who looked like their leader charged at them, nostrils flaring. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling our weapons cheap toys! I’ve heard that His Grace the Count’s got himself a pretty fine sword. Maybe I’ll help myself to that, then!”

“I see, you decided to attack us with the knowledge that this was the carriage of the Count.” Djoser snorted with the power of a bull. “I will let you know the gravity of your sin. There will be no need for a trial.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourselves, you morons!” The leader swung down his right hand, signaling the other bandits to charge at once with a roaring battle cry.

“You two, defend the carriages!” Ricardo sprinted forward toward the leader.

Djoser was more than a little bothered that Ricardo, the person of lowest status there, was the one barking out orders, but he also understood that it was indeed the best course of action, so he kept quiet. Even if he’d been the one giving commands, he would have said the exact same thing. He didn’t want to fight too close to Ricardo’s bewitching katana, and they certainly didn’t have the time to sit and argue over chain of command.

A bandit closed in on Djoser, bringing down his sword.

“Too slow!” Djoser swung his Knight Killer in a diagonal arc, sending the bandit’s sword flying into the air, his hands leaving along with it.

“Eh, ah, aaaaaaaaah!” Filled with the fear that his life would be coming to a close, the bandit let out a horrible scream.

Djoser sent him flying with a kick to his hip and prepared himself for the next attack.

This should work. The Knight Killer is effective even on an open battlefield.

Another bandit charged toward him with an axe, but to Djoser, he seemed so incredibly slow.

Djoser slipped past the bandit to his side, slashing into him as he went.

The bandit’s intestines spilled out of the gash in his stomach before he fell to the floor with great momentum. He tried to stand up again, but he could no longer feel his hands or feet. If he forced himself to move, the remaining organs inside his abdomen would likely spill out.

“Ugh, aah.” He began to sob as if he were an infant, but there was nobody around who would extend a hand to help him. On a chaotic battlefield where friend and foe were mixed in combat, he was all on his own. “I’m so...lonely,” he whispered with his last breath.

Where was the next enemy? As Djoser was carefully observing the surroundings, a decapitated head flew directly in front of his face.

“Oh, sorry about that,” said Gerhard with a grin.

It seemed it was a head that Gerhard had sent flying his way. By Gerhard’s feet was a headless corpse, along with a body that had been cut in half diagonally from the shoulder to the hip and one more that had been split in half through its torso.

Just imagining the sharpness of his blade was enough for the hairs of Djoser’s back to stand on end.

Compared to a giant boulder, bandits clad in beaten leather armor offered no more resistance than butter.

“It looks like that’s everyone who headed for the carriages. Shall we leave the rest up to the hero, then?” said Gerhard like it was nothing. He squatted down to wipe the blood on his katana off on the clothes of one of the bodies sprawled on the ground. “That was rather inefficient, though. Regrettable, truly regrettable.”

“Inefficient, you say?” Djoser cocked his head. What fault could his master find with such a clean and swift victory?

“You only really need to cut into a person a few inches to kill them. Cutting someone in half is overkill. This katana just cuts so well that I got carried away with myself.”

Perhaps he had also let himself get a bit overenthusiastic because it was the first time he had been able to fight alongside Borbus in many years. But admitting that would be far too embarrassing, so he kept it to himself.

“Will Ricardo be all right on his own?” asked Djoser with some worry in his voice.

Gerhard remained calm as ever. “If everything they say is true about his subjugation of that giant orc and the werewolves, it doesn’t matter if there are five or ten of those bandits; it should be an easy fight. On the contrary, if we were to go over to his aid, we might even end up getting in his way. Also...” Gerhard had a twisted smile on his face.

From Djoser’s experience, that was the face he made when he was thinking about something frightful.

“If Ricardo dies, I guess I’ll just have to take care of Tsubaki in his stead.”

Djoser had known his master for quite some time, but he still struggled at times to know how much of what he said was in jest and how much was dead serious.

***

Ricardo bolted straight forward as if he were riding on the wind itself. The bandit leader readied the battle-axe that he pulled from his back and ran toward Ricardo as well.

It was a weapon with a handle as long as a spear’s shaft and an axe head on the end of it. The bandit leader was at an advantage in both reach and weight. It was a difficult opponent to face with a katana.

The other bandits were gathering around left and right. They were likely looking to attack him from behind while their leader was parrying his strike.

“I’ll teach you the difference between bravery and recklessness, Mr. Hero!” yelled the leader, as if to try to intimidate him.

Did he just call me Hero? That’s strange.

Ricardo’s title of hero was something that was only known about within Count Shander’s domain. In truth, it was just a name that the Count had given him for fun. It wasn’t like he had made a name for himself as a hero throughout the kingdom, nor was he so famous that people would recognize him by his face alone.

He knew that the Count’s carriage would pass through there. He knew that the Count would be carrying a valuable katana. He knew that a man who went by the title of Hero would be among the Count’s guards. It seemed like he had dug up quite a bit of information about them.

Ricardo couldn’t imagine that a random group of bandits would go to that length. There must have been someone leaking them information and pulling the strings from behind.

Dear lord, what has the Count gotten himself into?

The expression on Ricardo’s face was not one of fear, but a huge smile. One thing that the bandits definitely didn’t know about was the bewitching katana, Tsubaki. If they had known about her, there was no way that they would have launched an attack on them.

“Awaken, Tsubaki!” Ricardo drew his beloved katana with a shout.

The surrounding area grew darker, and a sweet scent spread through the air.

The bandit leader cautiously looked around, trying to figure out what was going on, but his appraisal of the situation was still all too naive. The only correct answer would have been for them to throw all of their weapons to the ground and run while they still could.

Suddenly, one of the bandits began to slice at his own throat with his sword. “I-It feels so good...” The cutting edge of his sword was rather dull, so he slid it back and forth over his neck like a saw. Fresh blood spurted out with every stroke, but to him, the blood was like some lewd fluid. Facing the endless overpour of pleasure, he felt like his brain was going to go numb. Soon, all power drained from his body, and he collapsed to the ground like a marionette with its strings suddenly cut.

I wanted to feel it more... That pleasure...

That was the only regret left behind in his heart. The man died with an erection.

The other bandits began to follow the same path as the first one. There was one man who smashed his head in over and over with a club, his expression one of elation. He died with an erection. There was one man who cut open his stomach, jammed his hands in there, and mixed around his innards. He died with an erection. The fourth man also killed himself in a strange and gruesome way. He died with an erection.

Through Tsubaki’s power, the battlefield turned into a pleasurable hell, a bloodbath in Eden. It was a false exit on the path to heaven, placed there by demons.

The leader, who was the sole bandit surviving, fell onto the ground as his legs gave out on him. More than having resisted the temptation of Tsubaki, he was simply frozen with fear after being confronted with the unspeakably brutal deaths of his men.

He felt the presence of a woman behind him. Along with a sweet scent, a hand stroked at his cheek, an almost electric pleasure running through his body with each touch.

It was terrifying, euphoric... He no longer knew what to do with himself.

“Oh, you’re still alive, huh?” Ricardo, with the blade still drawn, approached the leader with an air of unwavering confidence. When he saw the look on the man on the ground, a cruel smile formed on Ricardo’s lips.

He hadn’t died, but he also hadn’t exactly been able to resist the temptation of Tsubaki.

Ricardo pointed the tip of his katana at the leader. “It must be hard, painful even. Getting this worked up and then being left without a proper climax...”

The leader’s face was red with embarrassment, his breathing erratic. Ricardo read what he was thinking like a book. To put it more directly, he was being blue-balled.

“If you beg nicely enough, I’ll cut into you with this katana. You’d get to feel it directly against your skin. Surely it would be so euphoric, you wouldn’t be able to believe it was something of this earth.”

“Please, cut me! Please, I beg you!” Pleading with Ricardo in desperation, the leader clasped his hands as if praying.

In the eyes of this man, I appear as his lord and savior.

Using pleasure to completely control another, Ricardo also awakened to a strange sense of elation. He was aware that the scales of his heart were tipping toward the direction of a wicked witch. In his mind, he even laughed at himself for it. He was a bit afraid of how he would change if he continued to use the katana, but more than that, he was curious about what would happen if he cut into the man before him, who was screaming and crying as the promise of blissful release was dangled in front of his face.

The moment that Ricardo raised his katana, he felt a tingle run down his spine. The ability to sense danger that he had built up as an adventurer broke him free from the sadistic cage his mind had been locked in.

Ricardo dodged to the side in an instant. At the same moment, a short bolt struck into the bandit leader’s neck.

“No, that’s not what I...wanted...” The leader’s face twisted in cursing regret before all the life left him completely.

If Ricardo hadn’t moved out of the way when he did, the bolt would have gone directly into his back. When he turned around, he saw a man about thirty feet away with a crossbow held at the ready. It seemed they still had more men who had been in hiding.

Crossbows were powerful weapons. They were also quite expensive. There was even a time when they were banned in the kingdom, as the idea that a lowly foot soldier could so easily use one to kill a knight was seen as almost sacrilegious. It wasn’t something that most bandits could get their hands on.

Someone must’ve given it to them. It wouldn’t make sense any other way.

Thirty feet was outside of the effective range of Tsubaki’s curse. It was also far enough that it would be a gamble whether Ricardo could sprint over there before the bandit could get off another shot.

Ricardo made up his mind. How he was now, he could do it.

As the bandit began to string his next bolt, Ricardo fixed his gaze on him and pointed the tip of his katana directly at the man. “Die, you bastard!”

Ricardo felt the shock of the blow in his hands. Perhaps that was a strange way to describe the activation of Tsubaki’s curse, but Ricardo could sense that it had indeed succeeded.

The bandit continued to pull back the bolt.

Wait, didn’t it work?

As Ricardo was thinking that, the bandit opened his mouth wide and directed the crossbow at himself. With a bang, the back of his skull split from the rest and ended up pinned to a tree behind him. Still standing, he smiled with supreme pleasure as blood poured from him. The man died with an erection.

“Did we...do it?” Ricardo stood back up, cold sweat streaming down his whole body. Looking at the blasphemous hellscape laid out before him and knowing that it was himself who created it, he was assaulted by fear and guilt. At the same time, he was elated at the fact that he had unlocked a new power.

He pulled the saya off his hip and sheathed away Tsubaki’s blade. Then, he held her close to him in a deep embrace. “Tsubaki, no matter how terrifying your existence might be, I will never leave your side. I don’t care if we are walking the road to heaven or hell. No matter where we go, we will go together.” On a battlefield engulfed with the stench of blood and guts, Ricardo made a promise to his partner for life.

Whether to call it love or just a wild delusion, even Ricardo wasn’t certain.

Ricardo picked up the crossbow, as he figured he should at least take it back as evidence, and made his way back to the carriages. On his way there, he met the eyes of the dead bandit leader. Out of the six corpses, his was the only one that bore a pained grimace. That was the only thing that Ricardo felt a little bad about.

“To let someone experience such pleasure in their death...is it salvation, or just blasphemy?”

He wasn’t sure. Surely it was his job to keep pondering that very question.

Ricardo reaffixed his beloved katana to his hip and walked on with his head held high. When he returned back to the carriages, the coachman and other servants had started working on clearing the logs from the road.

While he had called them logs, they weren’t incredibly thick ones. There were quite a few of them that you could easily move if you had a team of only three people. It likely wouldn’t take too long to fully clear the road.

Gerhard noticed Ricardo and waved a hand at him. “Hey.” He seemed like he hadn’t been worried about Ricardo at all. “Figured you’d still be kicking, anyway.”

“Well, I have my reliable partner here with me. I guess I should say it’s all thanks to her.”

“If you want, from today forward, you can call me your father-in-law if you like.”

“I’ll pass. Becoming family with you, Master Gerhard... I don’t even want to joke about that.”

“Boy, you really don’t have an endearing hair on your head, do you?” Gerhard looked down at Ricardo’s hand and noticed that he was just casually holding on to a crossbow. “What’s with that thing? You looking to head off to war or something?”

“Oh, right, about this...”

As Ricardo told them about the bandit who had been hiding with the crossbow, Gerhard and Djoser both gave him an awfully concerned look. They could no longer just chalk up the attack to mere coincidence.

“Damn it. Should have at least left one of them alive to pry something out of them.”

Ricardo was also thinking back on his actions with a bit of remorse. There weren’t many chances you got in life to torture answers out of someone.

“Wouldn’t have done you any good.” Maximillion stepped out of the carriage.

Ricardo, Gerhard, and Djoser all bowed before him.

“Even if we got them to talk, it wouldn’t do any good?” Ricardo asked with a look of confusion.

“Whoever leaked information to those bandits, or perhaps hired them to do this job, wouldn’t have just honestly told them what house they represent. They’d either not say anything at all or use a false name.”

“If we were to take an aggressive position against the house that they used as a scapegoat, things would only get more out of hand,” added Gerhard.

One of the servants rushed over to them to let them know that the road had been fully cleared.

“Everyone back in the carriages; let’s get going,” said the Count.

Gerhard and Djoser got into the middle carriage with the Count. Ricardo got back into the front carriage.

Ricardo wasn’t exactly well acquainted with any of the other servants in the same carriage as him, so there was little to do other than sit in thought. He could understand what the Count was saying about how it would be a fruitless effort to try to find the culprit behind everything, but it also seemed to him like the Count was trying to cut off the conversation as quickly as he could.

Was it that strange to want to know who was pulling the strings behind it? Was it something that you could so easily give up on, saying that it didn’t matter either way? Ricardo still wasn’t convinced.

They knew him as the hero, Ricardo. They knew that the Count had an incredible katana. They knew the route that they would take and the time that they would arrive. However, they didn’t know about the bewitching katana Tsubaki’s power. Who would fit that description?

Do we have a mole?

Could it have been one of the coachmen or servants? When Ricardo reported what happened during the fight with the giant orc and the werewolves, they had cleared the room, so there were only a handful of people who were privy to that information. If someone like that made contact with the group of bandits alone, though, that wouldn’t explain the crossbow. Perhaps it would be more likely that they leaked the information to a nobleman or wealthy merchant who was powerful enough to be able to procure such a thing.

In that case, the Count probably hadn’t given up on finding the culprit at all. He was going to look into it in earnest when he returned to the castle, so he was just feigning disinterest until then.

God, all this political shit is hard.

Ricardo couldn’t have anyone thinking that he was doubting the loyalties of those around him either. He simply stared out the window and kept his mouth shut for the entire ride back.

With Tsubaki by his side, he was the world’s strongest swordsman. However, there were far too many problems that strength alone couldn’t solve. This expedition had reminded him of that important fact.

Chapter 2: The Rising Phoenixes

At the same time that Gerhard and everyone were fighting off bandits, Lutz and Claudia were taking a stroll through town with their donkey in tow. They were heading to Patrick’s ornamentalist workshop to commission some work on Claudia’s daily carry, the rather unusually named aikuchi, Love Letter.

The saya of Love Letter was just painted a glossy black. It didn’t look bad by any means, but it was still rather plain. Before, they had talked about how it would really make it look more extravagant with a bit of goldwork, and today was the day they were going to make it happen.

“Asking a pro to do the ornamentation might cost a good bit, don’t you think?”

Claudia said as much, but in reality, she didn’t put up much resistance to the idea. The man she was in love with remembered something she had said in passing and chose to give her a present based on that. She was so happy that she simply couldn’t hold herself back.

“Well, it’s fine. Spending the money that we earned with katana on katana isn’t such a bad thing.” Lutz gave her a smile.

After fulfilling a good couple of commissions for some very important people, they had a bit of wiggle room in their household budget. It wouldn’t be a sin to spend a few gold coins.

“I thought that you didn’t have much interest in ornamentation, though, Lutzy.”

“I honestly didn’t until a little while ago. No matter how much you spend making the saya and tsuba look dazzling, it doesn’t have any effect on how sharp the blade is. Far from increasing the value of the katana, I actually thought that it diluted the simple beauty of it.”

“Kind of sounds like you were overcomplicating it a bit as well...”

“Yeah, pretty much. That was until, recently, I saw the Kikokuto in its finished form. It was absolutely amazing, enough that it made me completely reevaluate my position on the issue. To really increase the value of a katana, that kind of ornamentation is also necessary,” said Lutz with a spark of intrigue in his eyes. To him, learning a new way to increase the charm of a katana was a major advancement.

“Anyway, right now we are going over to speak with Patrick about this, but is he, well, okay? From the little that I’ve heard about him, it seems like he’s a bit of a perver—eccentric person.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. He really is an amazing craftsman. He just goes a bit insane when he’s around really high-quality blades, that’s all.”

“I don’t know if that’s a sentence you can really end with the phrase that’s all.” Claudia decided that it was better not to dig too deep into Patrick’s character. “By the way, Lutzy, this seems like a good time, so there’s something that I’d like to ask you about, if you don’t mind.”

“Why are you getting all formal on me all of a sudden? No need to hold back when we already pretty much know everything about each other, right down to the number of wrinkles in our buttholes.”

“You’ve got a point there. Well, it’s not that difficult a question anyway. I was just wondering if you ever think about having a truly great katana of your own, Lutzy.”

Lutz had hammered out many incredible katana, and given them to many people. But the katana around his waist was one that he didn’t even consider worth selling, just a halfway decent piece. It was a failed attempt that you couldn’t really call a failure, something that Lutz wouldn’t worry too much about if it broke or was stolen. He said that it was just easier that way.

However, surely Lutz understood the allure of a finely crafted katana more than anyone. Didn’t he want to have such a katana just for himself? Claudia had wondered about it for quite some time.

“It’s not like I don’t want one of my own, but...” Lutz looked up at the sky in thought.

It wasn’t like he chose not to own one based on some principle or ideal, so it wasn’t something that was easy to explain. If he were to say that it just kind of worked out that way, that would be the end of it.

“When I make a katana that I’m truly proud of, more than using it myself, I want to see somebody else getting use out of it.”

“You’re a blacksmith to your core, aren’t you?”

“I want somebody else to tell me that the katana that I made is something incredible. I honestly want them to shower me with praise, saying, ‘Lutz is without a doubt the greatest katana smith in the world!’ I also like the money.”

“You let your greed show a bit at the end there.”

“Are you listening, dear? This is really important. A man’s dignity is fueled by honorable recognition and praise alone. And that dignity is what leads to the motivation needed to carry on to the next project. A work of art, you see, is only really finished once it enters the eyes of another, dear,” said Lutz with a sudden flaming passion before realizing how worked up he was getting and lowering his voice in embarrassment. “So, anyway, making a great katana of my very own just isn’t a priority for me right now. I definitely want it one day, but I don’t have any particular date set in my mind.”

“This kind of feels like the sort of pattern where if you don’t proactively work on something, you just end up saying that for the rest of your life.”

“You aren’t wrong there either.”

While talking about all of that, they had reached the place that Patrick had told them to come to. It was a building so grand that even attempting to compare it to Lutz’s little hut wouldn’t do anything more than leave him feeling empty inside.

With the master, craftsmen, and apprentices all together, a few dozen people were going about their daily lives there, so perhaps it was the obvious size for such a building.

They tied up their donkey outside and knocked on the sturdy door to the workshop. In response, a man who appeared to be an apprentice poked his head out from behind the door.

“I’m the katana smith, Lutz. Is Patrick in at the moment?”

The apprentice thought for a moment, then looked back up like he had remembered something. “Oh, yes, I heard about you from my master. He said that if Master Lutz or Master Gerhard visited, I was to send them straight through to him, even if he was right in the middle of polishing his spear.”

Surely he just meant to say that he would prioritize meeting with them over anything else, but wasn’t there a better way to say it?

Claudia shot Lutz a look that said, “Are we really going to be okay with this guy?”

The apprentice led them to the Master’s room. Waiting there was the middle-aged man that Lutz had met at Gerhard’s workshop, a beaming smile plastered on his face.

“Welcome, welcome, Lutz! I’m thrilled that the creator of my little Kikokuto has come to visit us here! I’ll go ahead and make today a holiday for our workshop in commemoration of this event!”

He certainly was a man who liked to exaggerate, although Lutz wouldn’t put it past him to actually do it.

“The pleasure’s mine. I came here today partly because I have been unable to forget the incredible work that you did on that saya.”

“Mhmm.”

The greatest way to compliment a craftsman wasn’t to praise them directly, but to compliment their work. Having his engravings complimented by a master katana smith was enough to make an off-puttingly joyous smile spread on Patrick’s lips.

“We’ve come here today to commission your work on a saya for a tanto.” Lutz gave a little glance to Claudia, who was cowering behind him.

She stepped forward. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lutz’s wife, Claudia,” she said with a deep bow. Then, she pulled out the glossy black tanto that was hidden in her clothes and placed it on the table.

Patrick’s eyes glowed with fascination. “Oh dear, oh my... Is this a katana that Lutz forged?”

“It is indeed.”

“A katana smith forging a katana expressly for his beloved wife... Truly the deepest expression of adoration! What a blindingly brilliant love!”

“It’s really nothing that grand...” Lutz struggled to respond. He couldn’t keep up with Patrick’s peculiar passion. Claudia had just said that she wanted a katana, so Lutz made one. For Lutz, there wasn’t really any deeper reasoning than that.

“So, you chose to hire me to help make this flower of love come further into bloom! That’s right, isn’t it?!”

Was that what they were trying to do? At any rate, Lutz had already lost the willpower to deny it, so he just gave him a vague smile and a nod.

Patrick held on to the saya of the aikuchi and drew it. He was enamored by the sharpness and the beauty of the blade. His eyes grew as wide as a cat’s in the dark of night, then glimmered like the morning sun.

“If you stabbed anyone with this, they’d die!” he said with a gulp.

It seemed he was so excited that his vocabulary had dwindled to near nothing. He wanted to note how it was the perfect length to stab someone through the heart, but his spinning mind couldn’t keep up with him. “And then, what is this cute little beauty’s name?!”

“Its n-name?” Lutz was again at a loss about how to respond. It wasn’t like it didn’t have a name, or that Lutz didn’t know that name. It was just that if he was asked how that aikuchi got that name, it would be difficult for him to explain.

Claudia glanced at Lutz with a grin as he fidgeted about. “This katana’s name is Love Letter.”

“Love Letter. You’re little Love Letter, huh? That is a peculiar name indeed.” Patrick took out a wooden hammer from his tool cabinet and tried to knock out the mekugi pin that was holding the tsuka together. It was an ornamentalist’s workshop, so there were any number of tools suited to that kind of work lying about.

“Patrick, is it really necessary to remove the tsuka to do the ornamentation on it?!” Lutz’s eyes grew wide.

Patrick gave him a confused stare. “Of course it is. Doing that kind of work with it still attached could cause damage to the blade. It’s also hard to secure the piece that way.”

On the contrary, there was no reason not to remove it.

It was something that Lutz would have realized if he had just thought about it a little, but it entirely slipped his mind. In that moment, he regretted his habit of not thinking too much about the work and craft of others. It was time to pay the price of his indifference.

“Don’t worry, I learned from Gerhard about the correct way to remove the mekugi. I’m the one who did the ornamentation on my little Kikokuto, after all. I have experience, and the result should speak for itself.”

No, that wasn’t it. Lutz wasn’t worried about him breaking it or anything.

Quickly, but with deft care, Patrick removed the tsuka. Thus, Lutz’s words of love were once more exposed to the eyes of man.

TO MY DEAREST

When Gerhard had seen it before, he had broken out into laughter. Lutz suspected that Patrick would do the same, but to Lutz’s surprise, he just froze, still staring at the nakago.

“How precious...” said Patrick.

“Huh?”

“I can’t take it, can’t hold back anymore! I want to transcend my humanity and bloom into a flower!”

“Patrick?”

“While he usually is a man of few words, he engraved his words of love into the katana that was to defend his dear wife! Oh, what a tremendous thing it is! There simply isn’t any room for me to come in between. I now know the reason that I was born into this world. It was all for the purpose of dressing this little Love Letter up as pretty as possible...” Patrick spoke with amazing speed and momentum.

There were plenty of things that Lutz wanted to say about his rambling, but would he really be able to hold a proper conversation with Patrick in his current state?

It was true that Lutz wasn’t the most talkative person, but it wasn’t like he and Claudia didn’t talk much. As they had said before, they were business partners, friends, and lovers, all wrapped up in one. They had thrice as many things to talk about than most couples did. If they ran out of things to talk about, they could always make up for that in a more physical kind of way.

He was born for the sole purpose of doing the ornamentation on Love Letter? The idea was utterly insane. Patrick likely said about the same thing when he was starting work on the Kikokuto as well.

It was tiring. Just talking with that guy was enough to exhaust anyone. Who was the idiot who said they would be fine because he really was a skilled craftsman?

After that, Claudia told Patrick what kind of design she had in mind and negotiated a price before Lutz and Claudia finally left the workshop behind them.

The apprentice from before saw them off at the door. He didn’t send them off with a “Thank you for coming,” nor did he give them a “Have a safe trip home.” The apprentice had said, “Thank you for your hard work.”

That little detail lingered in Lutz’s mind.

***

One week later, Lutz and Claudia went back to Patrick’s workshop to pick up Love Letter, which they had left there for Patrick to work on.

“Come on in, come on in. Take a look. Your little Love Letter is all dolled up and prettier than ever!” Patrick placed the glossy black aikuchi, now with elegant goldwork, on the table.

There were dark bags under Patrick’s eyes, and his body swayed side to side as he fought to remain upright. Lutz knew very well how he must’ve been feeling. In fact, it was almost like looking in a mirror.

However, in Patrick’s case, he had actually finished the ornamentation in five days, and afterward, he’d spent sleepless nights relentlessly gazing at the aikuchi and swinging it around, so there really wasn’t any need for sympathy.

“This is incredible...” said Claudia in absolute awe.

There were two golden phoenixes, gliding dynamically along the length of the saya. Claudia finally understood how Lutz and Gerhard could still hold so much respect for Patrick, even after openly admitting his perverted tendencies. Out of habit as a merchant, she immediately appraised a price for it, but then she cleared the thought from her head.

This is my katana, the one I will have for my entire life.

There was one thing that she found strange, however. Whether it was a painting or an engraving, when decorating something with the motif of a phoenix, it was customary to depict a single phoenix.

It was a rather flashy creature, very flashy indeed. It was basically a huge turkey that could glide through the sky while engulfed in a ball of fire. The most basic principle was to place the phoenix in the center of the design and add fire around it.

However, for some reason, Love Letter had two phoenixes, one on the saya and one on the tsuka.

Come to think of it, in the legends, were there even two phoenixes in existence?

Claudia had only said that she would like the motif to be around a phoenix. The added flairs and effects weren’t overly bold, and even with two phoenixes it didn’t feel like too much. It really was beautiful and elegantly done, so she didn’t have any complaints.

Out of curiosity, she asked Patrick why there were two phoenixes on it, but his answer was simple.

“I figured that it would be lonely if it were all by itself.”

The theme of that aikuchi was love. At the very least, Patrick was convinced of that. If that were the case, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with having two phoenixes getting along together. Who the hell cared about being accurate to folklore anyway?

After hearing that, Claudia nodded her head in understanding. She rather liked that way of thinking about it as well.

“When you draw the blade, the two of them part for a time, but when you sheathe it back into the saya, they give each other a little kissy kiss. Look, kiss kiss kiss.”

Patrick surely was a kind person at his core. But his way of phrasing things was still incredibly gross.

“Thank you so much for the amazing ornamentation on Love Letter. I hope that you will continue to help out my husband in the future as well.” Claudia gave him a deep bow and paid the five gold coins they had agreed upon.

It was a very expensive price as ornamentation went, but they didn’t feel bad at all about paying it. There was simply that much value in that aikuchi.

Patrick had also grown fond of the wise and beautiful woman that Claudia was, especially as a person who understood the value of his art. It wasn’t like he had fallen for her or anything, though. The desire that sprouted in Patrick’s heart was just to watch over Lutz and Claudia’s happy romance from afar. Seeing their precious love bloom was enough to make food taste better and the sky seem bluer.

As Lutz and Claudia made their way home from the workshop, Claudia continued to gaze at the aikuchi from every angle while walking along with a grin spreading from cheek to cheek.

“You know, Lutzy, I still think that you ought to have a truly great katana of your own.”

“What makes you think that?”

They had already talked about that before. To bring up the same topic again, perhaps there was something that made her change her perspective on the issue. If there was something that changed how she thought about the issue, it was almost certainly the newly ornamented aikuchi in her hands.

“Owning a katana this incredible breeds a calm sense of confidence in your heart. Even when things get hard and take a turn for the worse, you can just say, ‘Well, I still have this katana,’ and that confidence rushes back into you.”

“Is that how it works?”

“That’s how it works,” she said, as if it were so obvious it didn’t even warrant explaining.

Lutz’s daily life had changed dramatically from how it had been before. Surely there were more waves coming on the horizon that would crash down on him, changing his life even further. Regardless of whether he welcomed those changes or not, he had no choice but to simply brace for the impact. It could be good to have something by his side to calm his soul.

“You might be right... After all of this messy political business with the Count is finished, I’ll think about making a katana of my own.”

“Ha ha ha, of course I’m right! As your predecessor in owning such a fine katana, feel free to ask me anything.” Claudia patted Lutz’s back while continuing to laugh.

That’s right... I just want to protect this everyday life of ours.

Lutz needed a katana that could help him protect the person most important to him. The physical form of that wish slowly began to take shape in his mind.

***

“The servant that we were after has taken their own life,” said Count Maximillion Shander with a bitter murmur in the meeting room of his castle.

Other than their lord, sitting around the round table were Gerhard, who had become akin to an advisor as of late, and the high-ranking knight, Djoser. Finally, there was a man who was so far removed from the muddy world of politics that he was essentially a civilian, the hero, Ricardo.

Ricardo himself wondered why on earth he would be needed at such a meeting. However, considering that the Count had asked for his attendance by name, there was no way that he could refuse.

“We did some digging to see if there were any servants that had come into an unusual amount of money recently, but this morning, our prime suspect was found dead in their own house, hanging with a noose around their neck.”

“Suicide, huh? It just doesn’t sound right to me somehow...” Gerhard grumbled thoughtfully.

Suicide was strictly forbidden by the church. In that age, the question of whether they would go to heaven or not after death was of grave importance to people. A person wouldn’t take their own life unless they were truly backed into a corner with nothing left for them to do. It was a better fate to be murdered. At least then there would be a chance that their wishes would be fulfilled in death.

“Under the enormous pressure of their sins, they cut off their own path to heaven to atone for their misdoings? That doesn’t seem right either,” said Djoser with a tone that suggested he didn’t even believe what he was saying. “He was almost certainly taken care of, I’m sure.”

“Well, either way...” Maximillion leaned back into his chair with a little creak. “That’s one matter settled.”

“Huh?” Ricardo unconsciously let his dumbfounded reaction slip from his mouth. They hadn’t found the person pulling the strings behind it all, and their one lead was gone. Far from the matter being settled, it was like they were right back at the entrance to the labyrinth.

Gerhard expressed that he understood Ricardo’s doubts, but he added, “Ricardo, if the person behind all of this were, for example, a marquis—a noble so far above our station they were practically above the clouds—what would you do?”

“What do you mean? They were the ones who picked the fight to begin with, so I’d obviously take an aggressive stance against them.”

“The house of Shander doesn’t have enough power in its domain to act alone in such a way,” said Gerhard definitively.

The Count gave a begrudging, yet affirming grin in return. He had no intention of rebuking Gerhard for those remarks, as he had only stated the truth. Maximillion couldn’t say anything that would have people look down on the house of Shander, making the situation difficult to explain from his own mouth. That was precisely the reason that Gerhard had no choice but to say it in his stead.

“We’re actually better off not knowing for now. As soon as we know the culprit, that knowledge will linger in our minds, and it will show in our behavior. It could end with us falling into further opposition. Also, if we were asked by Marquis Eldenburger who was pulling the strings, and we gave him a name, we could get caught up in a full-scale political war. It’s better to be able to truthfully say that we don’t know.”

Gerhard had wondered whether it could have been Marquis Eldenburger behind everything, but he soon drove the thought from his mind. Considering it was the Shander domain that was going to be making a katana as an offering to use in the peace negotiations with the barbarians to the south, the person who would want to protect the Count the most would be the Marquis. The idea that, not knowing the level of loyalty that the craftsmen of the domain had to the Count, the Marquis would try to kill Maximillion and poach them for himself was also unrealistic. Even on the off chance that he were to think of such an evil and conniving thing, he would surely do it after the peace talks with the south had been finalized.

As a matter of fact, Gerhard held feelings of deep gratitude and even friendship toward the Count, so there was no threat of his loyalties being swayed. Lutz also had a tendency to value morality and duty, so he would be difficult to buy off. Finally, Patrick, the natural-born degenerate, just had a simple desire to be wherever there would be the finest blades. As long as Gerhard and Lutz weren’t going anywhere, neither would he.

It made the most sense for the Marquis to have the three of them stay in the Shander domain and simply ask the Count whenever he needed something made. There was no reason to suspect that the Marquis was pulling the strings; that much they could be sure of.

“However, whoever is behind this, we have to make sure that we are able to take action if they are to attack again.” Ricardo still wasn’t convinced.

“There’s likely no need to worry about that either. There’s quite a difference in difficulty between attacking someone on the road and sneaking into enemy territory for an attack. If someone tried to force an attack like that on our own land, they would either have to be someone that just had a lot of time on their hands or an absolute buffoon,” said Gerhard with an air of disinterest. He spoke of it all as if it had already come to pass. “If they wanted to, by any means, kill His Grace and take the Kikokuto or the Marquis’s treasured sword, they wouldn’t do such a roundabout thing as to hire bandits; they would send somebody that they trusted personally to get the job done.”

One thing that they didn’t know, however, was whether the enemy knew that the Count and Marquis had traded swords.

If the enemy sent knights that were under their jurisdiction, no matter how hard they tried to cover it up, they would leave some evidence, and it would cost them a good bit of money as well. On the off chance the knights were defeated or the Count got away, then the whole conspiracy would come to light.

No matter how high up the perpetrator was in the nobility, if they were found to have mobilized forces against another noble’s territory, all out of the desire to steal a valuable sword, there was no way that they could cover it up.

Whoever it was, they didn’t have the determination to seriously try to kill every last one of them. That was why they hired that ragtag group of bandits. On the off chance that the bandits were successful, they would have just considered themselves lucky. That was the extent of their commitment to the matter.

“There’s no point in thinking any deeper into it. Just forget about it.”

There wasn’t any point? Many people had died. Ricardo had killed several of them with his own hands. One of the servants had betrayed them and then been killed off when they no longer proved useful. After all of that, he could write it off by saying there wasn’t any point in pursuing it any further?

Just what value did human life have? Being attacked by bandits, taking those bandits’ lives, was there no meaning in any of it?

Before Ricardo realized it, the meeting was over. He remained in the meeting room alone as the evening sun leaked through the windows.

The bewitching katana, Tsubaki, was a katana that could force people to kill themselves. In other words, its power would cut off people from the path to salvation, even in death. At first, Ricardo had thought that letting them spend their final moments in pleasure was an act of mercy, but perhaps he had been mistaken. Tsubaki truly was a fearsome katana. Even knowing that, the fact that he had no intention of ever letting her go surely meant that he was a demonic swordsman himself.

I just don’t know... What is going to become of me from here on out?

However ironic it was, it was only after receiving a true weapon of death that Ricardo began to think more about the value of life.

Chapter 3: Meeting at the Round Table

King Rathbard Wollscheid sat at the round table of the royal capital, surrounded by twelve other influential nobles who were participating in the meeting. The King had hardly spoken a single word since the proceedings had started. He simply watched his surroundings with a studious eye while stroking his beard, which had recently begun to sprout some white hairs. If he were to speak his mind there, everyone around him would start to match their opinions to his. If that were to happen, there wouldn’t be any point in having a meeting in the first place, so allowing everyone to speak their honest thoughts before giving a final opinion on the matter was his way of doing things.

Among the twelve other nobles in attendance were Maximillion and Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger, with whom Maximillion had exchanged his katana. Like the King, Beowulf carefully listened to the flow of the conversation without saying too much himself.

The subject of the meeting was the peace talks between their kingdom and the Barbarians to the south.

The Count, who was in charge of negotiations, stood up from his seat. His face was so pale, it was as though all of the blood had been drained from his cheeks and he could collapse at any moment. “Regarding the offering that they are preparing for us, the jewel by the name of the Iris of the Overlord, it appears to be a pink diamond about the size of a fist.”

An uncomfortable tension spread through all those at the round table. Pink diamonds were rare and precious jewels to begin with. To think they had one of such a massive size was unbelievable. It was a treasure so rare that you could search the whole world and not find another like it.

“That can’t be. Are you sure that isn’t some kind of exaggeration?”

There were some who aired such doubts, but it was as though they were saying that the Count in charge of the negotiations couldn’t be trusted.

“I saw it with my own two eyes,” the Count responded in frustration. “There’s no mistaking it. It was the real thing.”

There was no way that they could prepare something of equal value to give them. The peace talks would fail, and the only thing that would be conveyed to the countries at their border would be their embarrassing defeat.

“Oh, I have heard that in the underground treasure vault, there is a sword that was enchanted with five runes,” said one of the other nobles. “Perhaps with that...”

The King slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid that we sold that sword off long ago.”

Everyone was disappointed at the revelation, but they couldn’t voice any complaints about it either. The finances of the kingdom were in dire straits, and the burden that the seemingly endless skirmishes with the barbarians placed on them certainly didn’t help the situation. Because the fighting continued, they had no choice except to sell off their treasure, but now they needed funds in order to stop the fighting. It was a painful contradiction, but there was no point in complaining about it now.

“Also...there was more from the barbarians’ messenger.” The Count seemed even more apprehensive to speak than he had been before.

Everyone looked at him with a critical gaze, almost as if he were the enemy himself.

“What? Go ahead and say it. Are you saying that it gets worse than what you already said?”

“The messenger said that there is already a wonderful gift in our kingdom’s possession. As a show of friendly relations between our two countries, the King of the barbarians would be delighted to accept our kingdom’s third princess, Her Highness Princess Listill, as his fifth wife...”

A tangible pressure spread throughout the room once again, but this time, the reaction to the Count’s report varied.

There were some who allowed their anger to leak out of them.

Does the depravity of those low-life barbarians show no bounds?

However, there were others who reluctantly accepted that political marriages were essentially a duty of the royal family.

If it meant the success of the peace talks and an enormously valuable treasure in our kingdom’s possession, it would be a small price to pay.

While she was a member of the royal family, they honestly couldn’t care less about what happened to another person’s daughter.

Beowulf read from the diverse expressions of those around him who were strongly against, neutral, or in favor of the proposal. There appeared to be a slight majority of those willing to accept it. If he didn’t say anything now, it would likely come to pass. He glanced over at the King and saw the fright in his eyes. Even still, the King said nothing. It seemed like he was thinking that it would not be fit for him as a leader to jeopardize the entire country for the love of his daughter.

You owe me one, Your Majesty.

After sending those words with a glance at his lord, Beowulf coughed performatively to draw everyone’s attention. “That deal, it’s clearly a trap from the barbarians.”

“A trap, you say?”

Marquis Eldenburger had an immense presence, even among the twelve high-ranking nobles present there. There was no way that his words could be ignored.

“Giving them the Princess would essentially amount to giving them a hostage.”

“Is that not an interpretation from a place of bad faith? It’s also true that a marriage like that would undoubtedly deepen the relationship between our countries.”

Beowulf committed the name and face of the noble who spoke out against him to memory. Perhaps he had something to gain from the weakening of the kingdom. It would be necessary to look into who he was acquainted with as well.

“Princess Listill is only thirteen years old. On the other hand, how old was their king again?” Beowulf looked over to the Count, who was tasked with the negotiations.

While the Count appeared frantic, he answered directly. “Ah, yes, I believe that King Kassandros will be turning seventy this year.”

It seemed that he had memorized the profiles of all of the major figures involved in the negotiation. He was quite capable, but he certainly drew the short straw by being assigned such a task. To make matters worse, he now had to face the stern looks of criticism from his peers. Luck just wasn’t with him.

“There’s simply no way she would be able to live a normal married life. You often hear people criticizing couples for having an age gap so large that they could be parent and child, but this surpasses even that. That man could be her grandfather—no, great-grandfather even.”

There wasn’t even the slightest chance of the two of them falling in love and Princess Listill bearing an heir. As that fact was rather clear, no one at the round table spoke against Beowulf’s argument.

“Furthermore, Princess Listill would be his fifth wife. I can only imagine the kind of treatment that she would get from the other wives who may be too old to bear a child. I’m sure that there is not one of us present here that hasn’t felt the wrath of a woman in their own life. We are all comrades in this.”

While the situation was as tense as ever, Beowulf managed to draw out a few chuckles from those around him. After regaining some control over the grim atmosphere of the room, he continued. “If Princess Listill were treated like a slave by those barbarians, our kingdom would have no choice but to step in somehow. In response, they would say that we were overstepping our bounds by trying to meddle in their domestic affairs. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to stop there...bringing us right back to an armed conflict. To put it simply, the barbarians could start the war back up whenever they wanted to.”

“But, we still don’t know whether they would really do something so—”

“By the time we do know, it’ll be too late. During a negotiation, you have to display the utmost respect while not forgetting to hold contempt deep in your heart. They are barbarians who believe in a false god. We mustn’t trust them. We should always be looking at the worst-case scenario!”

With that passionate speech, all of those who appeared to be undecided on the matter shifted to support the Princess. Furthermore, they began to hold some suspicion against those who initially supported the proposal. Had anyone there been bought off?

With that, Beowulf had stopped the proposal from going through by majority vote, but that left them right back where they had started.

“But then, what will we do about the peace offering?” murmured one of the other nobles.

Everyone looked back and forth at each other, but no one had an alternative plan, so they all simply waited for someone else to speak.

At that rate, they would have no choice but to again consider giving up the Princess. Eventually, all of their eyes gathered on Beowulf.

You were the one who shot down our only clear plan, so you better do something about it.

That was what their stares were saying to Beowulf.

I’m sorry, Count Maximillion, but I have no other choice here.

Beowulf rang the handbell that was on the table in front of him. As they had previously arranged, a servant of the Marquis walked through the door, holding a katana in his arms.

“Everyone, we have a sword that has been enchanted with five runes right here.”

“Good lord! Is that the sword that was said to be in the treasure vault?!”

“No, it is an entirely different sword. I procured it through my own sources.” Beowulf slowly looked around the table as he spoke. There wasn’t anyone who let it show from their reactions, but he was certain that the one who orchestrated the attack on Maximillion was sitting at that table.

They were all high-ranking nobles, and they didn’t get to that position through their family name alone. None of them were so dumb as to give themselves away with an obvious reaction. On the other hand, they might not show any guilt simply because they believed themselves not to have done anything wrong in the first place.

Beowulf stood from his seat, then respectfully presented the Kikokuto to the King.

The King drew the katana from its saya, and everyone was utterly entranced by the beauty of the blade.

“Oh, what a glorious sword...”

“Marquis Eldenburger, how much would you be willing to sell it for?!”

They had just been talking about something to present as a peace offering, but some impatient idiot even tried to throw out an offer to buy it themselves.

The King admired the blade for a few more moments before sheathing it away. “Truly wonderful. I have never laid eyes on a sword of this quality in my whole life. However...” The King’s expression darkened. “Do you think that it matches up to a pink diamond the size of a man’s fist?”

“I’m not sure. I believe that to be up to the eye of the one receiving it. However, if they aren’t convinced, I would like to propose that we have the same craftsmen make a new sword, personalized to the liking of the barbarian king.”

“The ones who made this sword are still alive? Who are they? Where are they now?!” The man who had just asked to buy the sword for himself grew even more excited.

He seemed to be a bit ignorant of the atmosphere of the room, but Beowulf didn’t hate that kind of person either.

“Ha ha ha, I’m very sorry, but that information happens to be the seeds from which my crops will grow. I can’t so easily reveal where those seeds are buried, now, can I?” Beowulf managed to laugh off the question, but in reality, he was more concerned that if he were to reveal the identities of the craftsmen behind the Kikokuto, someone would send assassins after them, or perhaps attempt to kidnap them.

Beowulf didn’t even know the exact details of who or where they were. All he knew was that they were connected to Maximillion somehow, but he wouldn’t tell them even that much.

With a large bang, the King slammed his fist on the table, the sound resonating throughout the room. It was the signal that he had come to a conclusion.

Everyone went silent and directed their attention toward the King.

“Henceforth, I leave the negotiations between our kingdom and the barbarians in the hands of Marquis Eldenburger. You will also be permitted to enter the royal treasure vault as you please. If there is anything in there that you need, feel free to use it.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Please leave it to me.” As Beowulf bowed, his eyes met the King’s. They were not the strict eyes of a ruler, but the pleading eyes of a father.

I don’t want my daughter to end up as some sacrificial pawn. I beg you to save her.

Perhaps Beowulf was overthinking it, but that was what the King’s gaze was telling him.

“I, Beowulf Eldenburger, swear that I will live up to the expectations of Your Majesty.” He spoke with absolute certainty to ease the concerns of the King.

Even if it is just a misunderstanding, that’s fine too. I know what I felt in His Majesty’s eyes.

Did a man need any more reason to take action than that?

***

The kingdom’s army had taken position at the border. A mere three miles away, the federation army, those whom they called the barbarians, were stationed.

At that distance, it wasn’t likely that battle would suddenly break out, but they couldn’t let their guards down either. Surely neither side had gotten much sleep as a result of that tension.

On the side of the kingdom, they had around three thousand foot soldiers, and a hundred or so horses on top of that. They were stationed there to prepare for any movement from the barbarians, but all that it did was bleed money and food.

What a foolish thing it is. If they were being truthful, this is a conflict that everyone simply wants to end. That goes for the soldiers who are putting their lives on the line, as well as the nobles who are forced to foot the bill.

Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger patrolled around the garrison, furrowing his brows with discontent. Their army couldn’t just fully vacate the area, but if they were successful in forging the peace treaty, they could reduce their numbers to the bare minimum of a few hundred soldiers. With the funds that would clear up, what could they do? They could maintain their roads, they could invest in developing more fertile farmland, and they could even build a new walled city. The possibilities were incredible. At the very least, it was far more productive than funding the mass production of sleep-deprived soldiers.

“Marquis Beowulf, it’s getting to be around time,” said the Count, who was formerly charged with leading the negotiations. He had come along to show Beowulf around the garrison and catch him up with the current state of things there.

The reason that they had come to the border that day was to meet with a barbarian messenger who was coming to proceed with the peace talks.

“First, I have something that I need to ask. You said that the barbarians’ king was around seventy, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Can he even get it up?”

Faced with such a blunt question, the Count was taken aback a bit. “Sorry?”

“Oh, come on, don’t make that face. This is about politics—about diplomacy. If we’re talking about potentially sending a princess off to him for a political marriage, whether or not it is physically possible to produce an heir is a vital piece of information, right?”

“It seems that their king prefers to sleep between naked women on either side of him. He says that he does it to suck out their youthful essence, or something like that...”

“Oh? What a perfectly normal thing for a person to say. Damn freak,” spat Beowulf.

It was the job of women born to the royal family to wed into other influential families. Even still, he didn’t want to help arrange a marriage where it was clear from the outset that it would only bring the Princess a life of misfortune. Who had the right to destroy the precious youth of a thirteen-year-old girl? Duty, responsibility, royal obligation...it all meant nothing to Beowulf. He just didn’t want to do what he didn’t want to do.

“All right, let’s go.”

They headed to the stable and each jumped on their own horse.

While Beowulf was a high-ranking noble, he rode straight through the middle of the active battlefield with only a few knights assigned to him as guards. If the barbarians had set some kind of trap, they would likely be helpless to defend against it.

Thinking back, didn’t the Count have a little bit more meat on him before? It seemed like he had lost around forty-five pounds since being charged with negotiating the peace talks.

Hopefully I can finish this before I end up the same.

The tent where they were supposed to meet came into view. Seeing that there were already horses tied up there, it appeared that the barbarian messenger had already arrived. If they let them wait too long, it would leave a negative impression.

Beowulf held tight to the reins and hurried his horse forward. It took the Count and the knights everything they had to just keep up with Beowulf, his equestrian skill sharpened by his time on the battlefield.

***

When Beowulf and the Count entered the tent, they were greeted by a well-built man in his late twenties. The man was slightly tanned and muscular, but in an entirely practical kind of way. You could tell from a single look that he was a highly skilled fighter. He was also undeniably handsome.

While Beowulf didn’t have any particular reason for it, he just wanted to punch him right in the face.

“That’s Prince Arsames, second in line to the throne,” the Count whispered to Beowulf from behind.

“Is that so? Guess I can’t exactly punch him then, huh?”

“That would be off the table even if he weren’t a prince.”

On the kingdom’s side were Beowulf and the Count. On the federation’s side was the Prince and his secretary. In addition, there was one more man who appeared to be a noble from a different country altogether.

“Oh, don’t mind me. Just think of me as furniture in the room,” said the man with a tired look in his eyes.

Racking his brain trying to figure out who he might be, Beowulf observed the witness to the extent that it wouldn’t appear rude. He didn’t recognize the man by his face, but from his attire, Beowulf deduced that he was likely a noble from the empire.

They’ve certainly brought a troublesome person here...

It seemed that it was Arsames who had called the man there as a witness. If they were to try to ambush the Prince there or try something so cowardly as to take the treasure and run, news of those actions would spread throughout the entire continent. Truly a bothersome piece of furniture.

“All right then, let’s confirm the peace offerings from both sides, shall we?” said Arsames with a smile as refreshing as a summer breeze.

If he’d been a woman, Beowulf’s heart might have skipped a beat there, but as he was a man, all he felt was irritation. Perhaps that guy was even trying to rile him up on purpose. Beowulf was already to the point where he couldn’t learn to like him, no matter what he did from there on out.

The Prince placed the prized jewel, the Iris of the Overlord, on the table.

“Wow...” Beowulf couldn’t help but let his amazement slip from his lips.

It was a pink diamond the size of a man’s fist. The Count had neither lied nor exaggerated in the slightest. What an incredibly big and beautiful jewel it was. It truly was the most valuable treasure they could possibly offer. It was so incredible, in fact, that a question popped back into Beowulf’s mind.

Would somebody really give this in exchange for a young girl to just sleep by their side?

That was unthinkable. In the field of gift diplomacy, the other side was far more skilled. They must have been expecting something to result from the marriage that would outweigh the cost of even that precious jewel. They probably fully intended to squeeze out everything they could get by using the Princess as a political pawn. They might have even thought ahead to a future where they would be able to reclaim the treasure anyway.

Beowulf’s faith in his position was reinforced. They shouldn’t give the Princess over under any circumstance.

“We have prepared this gift as an offering of peace.” Beowulf held out the Kikokuto.

Arsames looked at it with surprise.

I had already shown them the jewel. Are they saying that sword could even come close to being of comparable value?

Beowulf could read what Arsames was thinking from his expression.

“Do you mind if I draw the blade?” asked Arsames.

“Please, go ahead.”

As he drew the Kikokuto, the Prince’s eyes widened in bewilderment. He had never seen that shape of a blade before. It was so incredibly thin, lightweight, sharp, and above all, beautiful. What fueled his curiosity even more, though, were the five ancient runes engraved into the blade. It was a miracle that would have been entirely impossible if the blade were not of the finest quality and the enchanter had not reached the pinnacle of the craft.

“This katana is named Kikokuto, the Blade of Weeping Oni.”

“Cat-Anna... Key-koku-toe... I see, you call this shape of sword cat-Anna, is that right?”

He definitely wanted it. His eyes were sparkling like a young boy gazing at a new toy.

Beowulf sensed that he just needed one extra push. “You can only understand the real value of this katana once you give it a swing. It is the katana that can make even oni cry. Please, go ahead and try it for yourself.”

“In that case, shall we step outside?”

Arsames, Beowulf, and everyone else all exited the tent. The guards from both sides gathered around, wondering what was going on and watching over them closely.

Arsames stood at the very center of everyone and drew the katana, bringing it above his head with a grand upward arc.

There wasn’t the slightest sway in his body, and his stance was clean. It seemed that he wasn’t just a pretty face, and his muscles weren’t only for show. Beowulf couldn’t place why, but that annoyed him as well.

Arsames swung the sword downward, and the wind cried out as the blade split through it. “What? How did...” he murmured while looking between the katana and his own hands.

The sound was far too beautiful to just amount to a blade swishing through the air. It was as though the spirits of the wind were singing to him. He wasn’t just swinging at nothing. He could clearly feel how the blade split the very air in twain.

Trembling in awe, Arsames had learned there and then what it meant to call something a truly great sword. He did his very best to contain the sense of excitement growing within him and invited Beowulf and everyone back inside of the tent.

The knights who were left outside all exchanged glances with each other. They hadn’t the faintest clue what had just happened. They even asked the knights on the enemy side, but they tilted their heads in confusion as well.

“This Key-koku-toe is a truly magnificent cat-Anna. However...” said Arsames upon returning to the tent, his voice carrying some melancholy. “Don’t you think that the Iris of the Overlord is just a level above?”

While it was his duty, saying something negative about such a fantastic katana pained him. It was impossible to give a quantitative score to such a fine piece of art. Still, there was some kind of immense aura that he felt emanating from it. It could even be said that if he didn’t feel anything from it, then he couldn’t be trusted to appraise anything at such an important meeting.

Beowulf also felt that, in terms of overall value, the Kikokuto was just a touch short of being a fair match. With a third-party witness there as well, it would be difficult to push through by simply continuing to insist that they were of equal value. However, everything was going exactly to plan.

“In that case, how about this? In time for the day of the signing ceremony, we will forge a katana entirely to the shape that you desire. As you have seen, the craftsmen of our kingdom are very skilled.”

“Hmmm...” Arsames was conflicted. The conditions of the deal would be that the katana was of equal or greater quality than the Kikokuto. However, with the added value of it being custom-made, it very well might be seen to be of equal value to the Iris of the Overlord. It would be a shame if they weren’t able to get their hands on the Princess, but Arsames was also being pulled in by the charming allure of the katana, making it difficult to resist their proposal.

“Very well, I would like you to forge a cat-Anna that is worthy of our great king. The Key-koku-toe is a fantastic cat-Anna, but it is perhaps a bit too light.”

Beowulf silently nodded his head. That katana was made specifically for Count Maximillion with his frail condition in mind. Beowulf also felt that it would be a bit too light for him to use. From what he had heard, the barbarians’ king was tall enough that his head scraped the heavens as he walked, and he had a burly build to match his stature.

In the end, they asked for a katana made with the exact opposite concept to the Kikokuto. It would be an ornate katana so powerful that it could obliterate anything that came in its way with a single swing.

“In our country, we believe the King to be the incarnation of the sun.”

Beowulf restrained himself from clicking his tongue.

These barbarians... People can’t become gods.

Their concept of the divine was simply too foreign. This reaffirmed to Beowulf how difficult it would be to come to understand them, let alone form friendly relations with them.

“I would like you to enchant it with an element fitting for the King, the element of the heavens, light magic. Of course, it can’t be of any lower quality than this Key-koku-toe, so it will need to be engraved with five runes. Would that be possible?”

“Please, leave it to us. I will order our craftsmen to produce a katana of the highest quality the world has seen and present it to you.” Beowulf begrudgingly shook Arsames’s hand, and they agreed to meet next at the signing ceremony.

Here, Beowulf made one crucial mistake. Compared to the four foundational elements, fire, wind, water, and earth, enchanting something with light magic entailed far more delicate work, making the level of difficulty incomparably high. It would be far more difficult than it was to enchant the Kikokuto. Whether it was even physically possible was yet to be seen. Beowulf was not a craftsman by trade, but a high-ranking noble, so it would be unfair to expect him to be that knowledgeable about the specifics of enchanting.

This was the final trap that Arsames had laid for them. If they managed to get a heavenly katana out of the deal, that would be great. If the kingdom failed to meet the specifications that they detailed, then they would be able to get the Princess as originally planned, all while crushing the honor of the kingdom under their boots.

Arsames remained in the tent with a twisted smile on his face.

Soon, we’ll take everything from you. Everything, including that katana.

***

A few days later, Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger paid a visit to Count Shander’s domain. Ordinarily, a count, who was of considerably lower status than a marquis, would be expected to come to Beowulf’s domain, but it wasn’t the time to be a stickler for that kind of custom.

“Here, I’ll give this back to you. We weren’t able to use it as a peace offering, but it played its role perfectly to display the capabilities of our craftsmen. I couldn’t help but laugh at how anyone who first sees this blade almost has to keep their eyes from popping out of their sockets.” Beowulf handed over the Kikokuto.

Maximillion happily accepted it back into his hands. It had come home to him. He was filled with a torrent of emotions. The Kikokuto truly was his katana.

“Hey, don’t start crying on me now. You really wear your heart on your sleeve, don’t you?”

“I’m just so happy... There truly is a bond between me and my beloved katana.”

They had been unable to finalize the peace talks with the Kikokuto as an offering. While Maximillion felt somewhat guilty about it, he was deeply relieved.

“All right then, I will return this to you as well.” Maximillion held out the treasured sword of the house of Eldenburger, the one that they had traded during the gathering of weapon fanatics.

“I’m glad to accept this back as well. If I lost this sword, I’d be berated to no end by my ancestors when I got to heaven.”

The two of them shared a laugh. With both swords back on the hips of their rightful owners, Maximillion drew the Kikokuto and gazed at the blade. There truly was no katana like his own.

“Have you ever thought about getting your sword enchanted as well? Our enchanter, Gerhard, does fantastic work.”

Beowulf seemed somewhat moved by the idea, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head. “I’ll have to reject your offer, I’m afraid. This sword is the symbol of the Eldenburger family. It would feel wrong to do anything to change it now that it has fallen into my hands. More than that, I would rather like to have a katana of my own.”

“Oh, have you developed an interest in katana, then?”

“I would like to say that I fell for the Kikokuto, but to be honest, I developed an interest in katana when I had the chance to see one decades ago.” Beowulf sheathed his sword and began to speak nostalgically about his past. “It happened when I was around twenty years of age—God, I was so young. My father was still the head of the house, and a blacksmith had said that they would like to offer him a strangely shaped sword. My father fell in love with it immediately and said that he wanted to see it in action with everyone in the courtyard of the estate, so it became a bit of an unveiling party. There was my father, myself, and my older brother, along with all of the aides and advisors present.”

“Are you saying that the strangely shaped sword was a katana?”

“Indeed. That blacksmith cut through anything and everything with that katana, right before our eyes. Whether it was a stone, a helmet, or a suit of armor, it would cleanly split in two with apparent ease. It was almost like watching someone perform magic.”

After saying that much, Beowulf’s voice started to take on a darker tone. Considering that the katana he was speaking about was not currently in his possession, Maximillion deduced that something must have happened to it, so he quietly listened as Beowulf continued his story.

“Right at the point when we were considering making that man the personal blacksmith of the Eldenburger house, my brother ran his mouth. He said that he wanted to test out the cutting edge as well.”

“Was your brother skilled in swordsmanship?”

“Who could say? Although in his inebriated state, he seemed better at swinging his hips than swinging a sword. That brother of mine went and asked the blacksmith to hand over the katana. The blacksmith must have had a bad feeling about it, because his face turned dreadfully pale. But he was the son of the Marquis, the one who would one day take over as head of the house. The blacksmith must have known that he wouldn’t be able to say no in such a situation. He ever so reluctantly handed over the katana, as if he were simply praying that nothing bad would happen.” Beowulf spoke as if he were spitting out the words.

Because of the indiscretionary actions of one foolish man, a beautiful work of art was lost to the world. That irritated Beowulf more than anything. It was something that happened decades ago, but just remembering it was enough to make him boil with anger, even then.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, he took up a drunken and unsteady stance, then proceeded to break the katana in half with one awful strike. My brother’s face turned red with anger and embarrassment, and he started to throw a tantrum. He said that the blacksmith was a fraud, that there was no way such a frail katana could cut through stone and armor.”

“I don’t know what to say...” Maximillion was lost for words at the gravity of Beowulf’s story.

“The blacksmith’s shoulders were shaking, but it wasn’t out of fear that he had garnered the fury of a noble. He appeared to be shaking with sheer frustration. He wanted so badly to say that my brother was wrong, but the immense difference in status made it impossible.”

“What happened to that blacksmith?”

“My brother whined about how they should have him executed, but in the end, they settled on banishing him from the Eldenburger domain. It was a surprisingly light punishment for making such a disturbance in the Marquis’s estate, but I still wasn’t satisfied, so that night, I went to my father to speak with him directly. I told him that it was surely my brother’s fault and that it would be a huge mistake to let that blacksmith go.”

Maximillion leaned forward, absolutely engrossed in the story.

“That was when my father said to me, ‘That katana was extremely sharp, but it was crafted with arrogance.’”

“Arrogance?”

“It’s hard to understand what he meant by that, right? I was the same at the time. But my father continued, ‘If you cut something perfectly perpendicular to that blade, there wasn’t anything that it wouldn’t slash straight through. However, when on a real battlefield, it isn’t possible to make sure every single cut is perfectly clean. That katana wasn’t made for the purpose of the one that would eventually use it, but to simply show off the abilities of the one who crafted it.’ He even went as far as to say that a katana that was just for show wasn’t fit to be used by a noble house of warriors.”

“That is quite a scathing criticism. But if he had just told that to the blacksmith, would he not have been able to create an even greater katana next time?”

“He probably wouldn’t have minded giving the blacksmith another chance, but it was hard to do that after my brother threw such a fit over it. After all of that, he couldn’t just ask him to try again.”

It was always the fish that you let get away that looked biggest. He couldn’t help but wonder, if the house of Eldenburger had taken him in as their personal blacksmith, how would that have changed the metalworking industry in the domain?

“A few years after that, my father died from an illness. Soon after, my brother, who had become the head of the house, slipped down the stairs of a brothel and broke his neck, killing him instantly. Life really is full of surprises; you can never quite know what it has in store for you...” There was a calm indifference in Beowulf’s voice.

It was a coincidence, pure coincidence. Considering his brother’s bad habits with both women and alcohol, you could even say his death was an inevitable course of nature. The reason that the brothel was destroyed immediately afterward was due to a structural issue with the building. The reason that the owner of the brothel wasn’t executed, but quietly banished from the domain, was, of course, to not draw too much attention to the embarrassing circumstances under which his brother had died. That was all.

Beowulf studied Maximillion’s face with an emotionless stare.

There was cold sweat running down Maximillion’s back.

No matter what the truth of this story is, there’s no point in prying any further into it.

“I can see that you have overcome much tragedy in developing this territory to the extent that you have, Marquis Beowulf. I’m sure that your brother is smiling down on you from heaven as well.”

Was that a little too on the nose?

Maximillion was afraid that he might have gone too far, but Beowulf just gave him a subtle smile in return.

It seems like I was being tested. Tested to see whether I was really a friend or foe.

Beowulf regained his usual cheery demeanor and waved his hands. “The Kikokuto really is a wonderful katana, isn’t it? It has a clear focus on sharpness, but it doesn’t forget to strive for practicality as well. If the smith had wanted to make it even thinner, surely they could have, but they instead maintained the hairline balance between sharpness and strength. If that blacksmith from all those years ago was still hammering out katana, I’m sure he would be making something like this.”

Beowulf had wondered why he was so enamored with the Kikokuto, but the answer seemed to lie in the flurry of emotions stirring within him. It was almost like the katana that had shattered so unceremoniously that fateful day had come back to him in a new form. After seeing the Kikokuto, all of the regret and guilt that had built up in his heart simply disappeared.

“Hmm... God, I want one, a katana of my very own. One with an intense focus on sharpness and a long blade length, an improved version of that lost katana.”

“After the peace talks have formally come to a close, I’ll ask Gerhard and everybody to work on that for you. I’m positive they could make a katana fitting of a man of your stature.”

“Yes, of course, after the peace talks are finished with...”

There was still a mountain of problems to deal with, but having a bright future to look forward to was an important thing indeed. He had a dependable comrade now as well. Surely it would all turn out fine.

***

At the same time, in the enchanting workshop of the Count’s castle, there was an old man, shaking with anger.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, that dumb bastard!” Gerhard screamed at the top of his lungs. It was loud enough that the windows of the workshop began to shake. Gerhard heard the Marquis’s request for the katana to be used as a peace offering through the Count, the details of which were just all too terrible.

“Light magic, you say? I can do it, no problem. But perhaps it should be noted that with the greatest of all katana and a mountainous pile of large jewels, three runes would be the very limit! Son of a bitch!”

As Gerhard continued to ramble on in a bizarre tone of voice, Lutz and Patrick stared at him, unsure of how they should be feeling at the moment. They had been called there to talk about how they were all going to proceed with the next project.

“Hey, Patrick, do you know how strong a sword enchanted with three runes worth of light magic is?” asked Lutz.

As a top-class katana smith, Lutz knew just about everything there was to know about forging a katana, but he was all but clueless about other crafts, such as enchanting. In terms of that kind of broader knowledge, he was still a step behind his two seniors there.

“If you cut into a zombie, for example, it would slow down the speed they could heal the wound, but that would be about it...” Patrick shook his head as he spoke.

While his guess probably wasn’t entirely accurate, it probably wasn’t far off either.

“Isn’t that a little bit...bland? It wouldn’t start to destroy the zombie’s body from the wound or anything?”

“That would be more in the realm of a five-rune enchantment. Unfortunately, I have never had the chance to see a sword that was engraved with five runes of light magic, nor have I even heard of such a sword existing.”

Lutz and Patrick both let out a groan, not moving from where they stood.

It seemed that the commission this time around might just be a bit too removed from reality.

“The last time the three of us were gathered like this, we spoke about wanting to create the greatest katana that had ever existed. Could you not say that this kind of order was exactly what we were hoping for?” said Patrick.

Lutz tilted his head in thought. They did say that. That much was true. However, everything, no matter how grand, had its limits. “We didn’t say that we wanted to go that overboard, though...”

God had responded to their prayers, but apparently, the hand of God was quite heavy indeed.

Chapter 4: The Golden Birdcage

The sound of metal scraping against the whetstone abruptly stopped. Lutz wiped off the residual water from the blade and checked over his work. His less-than-delighted expression stared back at him in the reflection of the blade.

“Lutzy, are you finished?” Claudia came in to check on him. Looking at his face, she could tell immediately that it was another failed attempt. This was already attempt number three.

“It’s not awful, but...” Lutz stretched his neck. “I don’t feel it resonating in my soul. It’s just like... I was told to make an extravagant katana, then I made one. That’s it. As a result, it gives off this heartless, transactional feeling somehow.”

Claudia looked over Lutz’s shoulder to inspect the finished katana. The blade itself looked thick and sturdy. More than simply cutting through something, it looked like it would obliterate anything in its path. The hamon was also clearly visible. It was a good katana. It would surely sell at an attractive price. But that was all.

“You’re right that it evokes less of a ‘My dear God in heaven, what an incredible katana!’ and more of a ‘Wow, that’s pretty cool,’ a kind of colder, less personal reaction.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. It feels like a lump of metal in the shape of a katana. It doesn’t display any heart, soul, passion, or even lust. Not one bit of it.” Lutz’s shoulders dropped as he let out a huge sigh.

It was an important job that he absolutely couldn’t afford to mess up, but he just couldn’t find the right motivation.

“It might be a bit late in the game to say this, but to be honest, I wasn’t really excited to take on this job in the first place. After all, it’s a katana that is not going to be used as a katana, but as a political pawn. I just can’t get excited about that.”

“Ah, that’s right. You were just saying that you forged katana with the hope that they would be used by someone, didn’t you, Lutzy? More specifically, you wanted the person who used that katana to shower you with praise, saying stuff like ‘As expected of Lutz, the greatest katana smith in the world! It’s wonderful! Take those clothes off, let’s do the deed right here!’ Isn’t that right?”

“I can’t deny that, but you could phrase it a little more...you know, subtly?”

“I don’t see a problem with it. I quite like seeing you being honest with your desires, Lutzy. A person’s need for validation is often the fuel that sends them to new and unseen heights. It’s an incredibly important thing, so long as that desire doesn’t overcomplicate things, that is.”

“I can’t quite tell if that was a compliment or a criticism...”

“Ha ha. It’s love, my dear Lutzy, love.”

Her way of putting things was as blunt as ever, but Lutz did feel like she put his mind at ease somewhat.

“Lutzy, do you think that you’re the type that does better with some kind of theme to work with?”

“I think there might be some truth to that. In the case of the Kikokuto and Knight Killer, there was a clear theme established before I began work on them. I didn’t really have anything in particular in mind when I forged Tsubaki, but I also didn’t have all of this stuff with politics and the nobility clogging my head.”

“It sounds like the answer is pretty simple, then. You just have to decide on a theme for it before you start work on the next attempt.”

“I feel like there already kind of is a theme, though. It’s got to be an ornate katana with a long, thick blade.”

“That’s not a theme, that’s just the specifications in the order. What’s important is who you want to turn into a pile of mincemeat with that katana.”

Claudia’s gruesome assessment of the matter came entirely out of the blue.

“There’s nothing to be surprised about; a katana is a tool meant for cutting other people. Didn’t your papa say as much? That a katana is just a kitchen knife for cutting people, and—”

“I am not to take those words as an exaggeration or metaphor, but understand that they are the simple truth, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Knight Killer was forged with the concept of murdering knights in an enclosed space, Love Letter was made with the intention of being able to pierce bandits straight through the heart if I were to be attacked, and the Kikokuto was created to at least help a nobleman fend off the first strike of an ambush until the guards could step in. Let me ask you, Lutzy, who or what do you want to crush under that stupidly huge katana?”

Lutz had simply been trying to forge a katana based on the specifications of the order. That was why the finished result was so bland. Of course he couldn’t put his soul into it if he didn’t even have a clear image of what it would be cutting through.

“Thanks, dear. I’m still not entirely clear on what I have to do, but I feel like I’m heading in the right direction now.”

“You see, I’m not looking for those kinds of commonplace words. Isn’t there something else you have to say?”

“I love you, Claudia.”

“Heh heh heh...” Claudia giggled with a satisfied expression.

As if pulled along by her, Lutz couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as well.

All right then, Lutz knew that he had to figure out what the katana was going to be made to cut through, but there was still one problem with that. It was a katana that was going to be given as an offering to the king of a hostile nation. In that case, wouldn’t the obvious target be the soldiers or noblemen of the kingdom?

Yeah, that probably wouldn’t be appropriate...

What kind of grand katana would a king who claimed to be the incarnation of the sun need? Lutz just didn’t know. There wasn’t a clear image coming to his head.

“Lutz, are you there? Is anybody home?!”

An obnoxiously loud and powerful knocking came from the front door. Along with it came the voice of Gerhard’s apprentice, the high-ranking knight Djoser.

He was a knight so crazy that it was like he was the result of someone pouring loyalty, blind faith, and chivalry into a mixing bowl and stirring it about. To be honest, he was someone with whom Lutz struggled to get along. It was surely even harder for the knight-hating Claudia.

While Lutz and Claudia debated whether they should just pretend that they were out, Djoser yelled through the door again. “Hey, I know that you guys are in there! Open up, the Count wants to speak with you!”

Djoser had taken the initiative before they could decide either way. He somehow knew that they were inside, and it was the Count who was calling for them. It looked like they had no choice but to go along with him.

While trying to figure out how Djoser knew they were in, Lutz heard the drawn-out braying of their little donkey. Of course, he was still in the stable. Any time that Lutz and Claudia went out, they always took their donkey along with them.

Lutz stood up with an annoyed groan, then unlatched the door and opened it wide. “Well, hello there, Djoser. Sorry, we’re pretty busy at the moment. You see—”

“I’m aware of the situation. I’d like to let you focus on the job at hand as well, but this is a bit of an exception. I’m afraid you’ll have to come along with me. I know I said that the Count wanted to speak with you, but it was actually someone else who asked him to call for you...” Djoser cut himself off there. It didn’t look like he was trying to be dramatic about it; he just seemed rather confused himself. “The third princess of the kingdom, Princess Listill, asked to meet with the craftsmen charged with making the peace offering.”

“Huh?”

Lutz didn’t understand what he was saying. Why on earth would someone from the royal family want to meet with a craftsman who was at the very bottom of the pyramid of hierarchy? Unlike Gerhard or Patrick, Lutz lived outside of the city walls. He wasn’t even a member of the Guild. At least going by official registries, Lutz was a homeless, unemployed scoundrel. Being called upon by the royal family felt like more of a bad omen than an honor.

“When you say the third princess, you mean the young girl who was going to be turned into a naked body pillow for that perverted king, right? Perhaps I shouldn’t be using the past tense there, though. If we don’t manage to succeed at this job, that future is likely still waiting for her,” said Claudia in a seemingly careless but concise manner.

Unpleased by her remarks, Djoser furrowed his brows. “Claudia, may I remind you that you are talking about a princess of this kingdom? You would be wise to choose your words a bit more carefully.”

“Ah, yes. You have my apologies.”

“Also, where did you hear that those barbarians were looking to get their hands on Princess Listill? That information wasn’t disclosed to the public.”

“All you have to do is wander around town and ask people for the latest gossip. It seems there must be quite a loose-lipped member among the twelve noblemen.”

The private details of the peace negotiations had made it all the way to the ears of a merchant who lived outside the city walls. They hadn’t the slightest control over the flow of information to the public. Djoser’s expression grew darker and darker as he thought about the dwindling of discipline among the elites of their kingdom.

“Djoser, I haven’t the slightest clue about the manners or etiquette you need to use in the castle. This isn’t the sort of situation where any kind of rude behavior would be tolerated. Would it not be okay for me to sit this one out?”

Lutz said as much, but the words God, this all sounds annoying, so I’d really rather not go were written all over his face.

It was a direct order from the Princess herself. Djoser wasn’t in the sort of position where he could just casually agree with him and back down.

“I’m not asking you to exude civility with your every move, nor do I expect it from you. Just maintain the bare minimum of polite speech—don’t forget to say please and thank you—and for the love of God, don’t say anything like ‘Whoa, so you’re the Princess, huh? Heard you’re pretty important,’ I beg of you.”

“I don’t lack that much common sense. Who do you take me for?” Lutz gave him an exasperated smile.

However, Djoser clenched his fist and yelled, “Oh, but they exist, the sort of people that would say that kind of thing! It’s a big, awful world out there!”

“Oh...is that so?”

“I often accompany the Count as a guard when he goes to meet with the adventurers of the domain, and every once in a while, you get some idiot who confuses that kind of rude behavior with freedom of speech or just being cool!”

Of course, such adventurers were not given the opportunity to work directly under the Count. Regardless of whether they had knowledge of the manners of higher society or not, those who didn’t even make an attempt at civility were completely out of the question. Such behavior was the same as admitting they had no ability to judge how they should adjust their behavior in different circumstances.

“Are you listening, Lutz? Remember this well. Idiots will always find a way to exceed your wildest expectations! Such animals cannot be restrained by the chains of common sense!”

“I’ll keep that in mind...”

It seemed that Djoser wasn’t without his troubles as well. While it wasn’t really something Lutz could refuse anyway, he decided it would be okay to follow him to the castle, if only just to help Djoser not to lose face. However, that was under the condition that Claudia could come along too.

“It’s not a strange thing to want your wife to accompany you on this sort of visit, right?”

“Well, I suppose not...” Djoser still didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it.

After being repeatedly poked and prodded by Claudia’s words, it seemed that Djoser had also developed a bit of an aversion to her.

Realizing this, Claudia said, “My husband and I are one in body and soul. I must insist that I come along as well. Ha ha ha!” letting out a teasing laugh.

That’s exactly what I mean.

Lutz got in a little mental jab but was smart enough not to let it leave his lips.

Djoser took Lutz and Claudia to the Count’s court, and when they entered, they saw a small girl sitting in the middle of the room, occupying the Count’s usual position.

She was adorable, with glossy, black hair down to her hips and a pretty dress adorning her. While it was an exhausted comparison, she looked perfectly like a porcelain doll.

That girl was the third princess of the kingdom, Her Highness Princess Listill Wollscheid. Standing a bit behind her to one side was a man who appeared to be a knight. He was a giant, standing at nearly six and a half feet tall, more like an anthropomorphized cliff face than a man.

The Count himself was sitting off to the side. It seemed that Gerhard and Patrick had also been called there and were sitting with an obviously uncomfortable demeanor.

As Lutz and Claudia had never met with the Count or the Princess before, Djoser whispered to them from behind, letting them know who they were.

If Djoser hadn’t let Lutz know who the Count was, he would have just assumed that he was a normal, friendly-looking, middle-aged man. He could nearly understand why some of the adventurers that Djoser was talking about said tactless things like “Whoa, you’re actually pretty important, then, huh?”

“This is the blacksmith Lutz and his wife, Claudia. I have brought them here as you requested, Your Highness,” said Djoser.

Djoser spoke for them, as the disparity in their class positions made anything else wildly inappropriate. Therefore, even though she was sitting right before them, Lutz and Claudia had no choice but to use him as an intermediary.

It’s this kind of tedious thing that I can’t stand...

Lutz wasn’t exactly short-tempered, but being forced to do such utterly pointless things annoyed him more than anything. He wanted to go home already.

Almost like he could read what Lutz was thinking, the giant knight behind the Princess stared daggers at him. In his eyes were written the words “This lowly peasant scum...”

Lutz had formed rather warm connections with Gerhard and everyone as of late, so he had started to forget. At the end of the day, that was the true nature of the nobility. It was the same kind of narcissism that compelled people to unfairly berate his father.

“Lutz the blacksmith, it is a pleasure to have you with us,” said Listill with a voice so sweet that it sounded like a bird song. “Lutz, how has your progress been with forging the katana?”

It seemed that she had called him there just to ask him about that. Considering that she was still on the verge of being sold off as a bride to the enemy, there was no way that she wouldn’t be concerned about it. It was also quite proactive of her to come all the way out to the distant domain of the Count.

Lutz would have liked to say something optimistic to put her at ease, but it wouldn’t be in anyone’s interest for him to try to talk his way out of it. While suppressing his frustration at having to communicate that way, Lutz whispered into Djoser’s ear, telling him about the situation he was in.

“Hey...you’re really going to make me say that to the Princess?”

“That’s your job right now. It’s not like I can say it to her.”

Seemingly fed up with the two of them whispering back and forth, Princess Listill struck her fist on the desk with a thud. But, since her hand was rather small, it didn’t sound as intimidating as she perhaps hoped it would. “This is an informal meeting. I will allow you to speak directly.”

It appeared that such a roundabout way of communicating was annoying even for the elite. Learning that, Lutz and Claudia felt the gap between them and the Princess close, if only just a minute distance.

The knight who guarded the Princess looked over to her. His eyes bore the same daggers he had just been pointing at Lutz. There was no reverence or emotion in his gaze. The same chilly disregard, the same silent contempt for their behavior.

That was when a revelation struck Lutz. The knight wasn’t there to guard the Princess; he was there to keep her under surveillance. If things didn’t work out, they would need to give her over to a neighboring country, so they couldn’t have her trying to run away before then.

Lutz would only come to learn of this later, but the knight was not actually one of the King’s men, but one who had been dispatched by the twelve nobles.

“The progress on the katana...has been less than ideal.”

“Huh?” said the Princess as if spitting out something bitter.

The overwhelming disappointment and despair in her heart bled onto her face. It had been a whole month since they had put in the request for the katana. She had hoped that they might have even finished the enchantment by then, but let alone finishing the enchantment, they were stuck on the forging of the blade itself.

All the Princess could muster was a weak, shaky voice. “Please, continue your work...” She knew that the production of art wasn’t the sort of thing that she could speed up by taking out her anger on the artist. No matter how anxious she was, no matter how much it pained her, all she could do was wait.

She would be used as a human sacrifice for the peace of their kingdom. She would be watched over constantly. Her only hope to escape that horrible fate was a grand katana that they might not even be able to make. Lutz couldn’t imagine the weight of the burden those small shoulders were carrying.

Is there really nothing that I can do for her?

Filled with feelings of powerlessness and guilt, Lutz’s chest tightened in pain. Then, through that pain, he saw something—understood something. The feeling that he should be pouring into the katana was anger, an anger so intense that it could take his feelings of powerlessness, as well as the unfairness of the broken world around them, and burn it all to ash.

“Your Highness!”

“Y-Yes?!” The Princess jumped with surprise.

“Thank you very much. Because of you, Your Highness, I now have a clear image for the katana in my mind!” Lutz gave Claudia a tap on the shoulder as if to say, “Let’s go, dear,” and he ran out of the Count’s court.

All those left behind in the room were too stunned to move for a moment. The person of highest status in the room, Princess Listill, had neither said that the conversation was finished nor that it was okay to leave. In a sense, it could even be said that Lutz had illegally fled from a mandatory audience with her.

“Right, well... I’d best take my leave too...” Before everyone could come back to their senses, Claudia turned her heels to go, but as she placed her hand on the door, she looked back at the Princess. There was one thing that she absolutely had to say. “Princess Listill!”

“Y-Yes?!” She jumped again before her small body returned to a slight tremble. It seemed that a lot of people were yelling at her that day.

“Every single girl in this entire world has the right to experience true love.”

“Huh?”

“Regardless of status or royal duty, you have the right to seek out that kind of love!”

The Princess had no idea what she was talking about, what she wanted to say. Spouting off stuff about how royalty had the right to love someone of their choosing, was she right in the head? Listill was taken aback by the sudden outburst, but Claudia’s eyes were serious and so very kind. She could tell that Claudia was speaking out of real concern for her.

Claudia had no ulterior motive or hidden meaning behind her words either. She just wanted to make Princess Listill feel even just a tiny bit better. Right now, the Princess was in the very same cage that Claudia had once been thrown into, just waiting for the day that she would be sold off somewhere. The only thing that differed was whether that cage was made of iron or gold. Under the same horrifying circumstances that she had once faced, she just wanted that girl to find happiness.

The knight behind her must have been mad at how everybody seemed to be acting without permission, and yelled, “Hey, woman! No one has given you permission to open your damned mouth. Don’t you dare speak out of turn!”

What was it that incurred that knight’s wrath? It must have been the fact that Claudia had essentially said that she need not be wed off to the barbarian king.

Understanding the thing that had triggered the knight’s anger, Claudia returned to her usual calm demeanor. With a smile so fake that it could have been painted on her, she gave the man a bow. “You have my deepest apologies. I grew up outside of the walls, you see, so I don’t have any knowledge of the manners of high society. I beg your forgiveness. Oh ho ho!” She then showed off the lovely shape of her ass as she slipped through the crack in the door and left the Count’s court behind her.

“That wench!” The knight placed his hand on the sheath of his sword and started to go after her, but Listill stopped him.

“Leave her be. This was an informal meeting. There is no reason to press charges against her for any discourtesy. I believe that I have already said that.”

“But, Your Highness, if you allow such impermanence from those peasants, it will harm your authority.”

No, he was wrong. She had only told Listill not to give up, and she did it while fully aware of the possible consequences of speaking out of turn like that. Was that not true fealty? Was that not kindness? At a time when everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells around her, that woman alone met her eyes as if she were talking to an equal. That was the first time Listill had ever experienced such a thing.

“Just let her go. Your job right now is to guard me, right? Don’t leave your post.”

“I will be filing a report about this later...”

“Please, feel free.”

The knight and the Princess didn’t even attempt eye contact.

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet, and all were expecting the meeting to come to a swift close. Listill suddenly said, “Old man Gerhard.”

Gerhard panicked for a moment as he hadn’t expected the conversation to turn toward him, but he regained his composure with impressive speed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Do you think that someone born to the royal family as a tool for a political marriage has the right to experience such sweet love?”

Gerhard thought for a moment about how to respond, but his answer was decided upon from the very beginning. It was their duty to create the grandest katana in existence and bring peace to the two countries without having to use the Princess as a sacrificial pawn. Gerhard straightened his back and held his head high. “We are here to make that possible.”

Listill gave him a nod. “Is this Lutz truly capable of forging such an incredible katana?”

“That man ran off like a shot after an idea popped into his head. There is no clearer sign that a work of art is soon to be born. This is all to make a katana that is capable of saving you, Your Highness. Please forgive Lutz for his rudeness, I beg of you.”

“I see that you trust him deeply.”

Gerhard gave her a strong, affirming nod. Lutz had made many incredible katana. He had even saved the soul of Gerhard’s dear old friend. That guy would surely pull something off. What Gerhard felt was more than trust; it was certainty.

Listill seemed like she had decided on something in her heart as well. She sat herself up straight and announced to everyone, “I understand. Over these next two months, I will choose to believe in you and await the result of your efforts. I won’t interfere unnecessarily with the process. I leave myself and my future in the hands of the craftsmen of the Shander domain.” Listill gave Gerhard a big smile.

It was the smile of just an ordinary girl, unadulterated by the weight and authority of her station.

***

When Lutz and Claudia returned home, the sun was already beginning to set over the horizon. Regardless of that, Lutz immediately said, “I’m going to get working on that katana.”

Claudia widened her eyes in surprise, then dropped her shoulders in a sigh.

While it turned out as a failure in the end, Lutz had already worked through the night before to finish off the katana that Claudia had seen that morning. After that, they headed directly to Count’s castle, and only then had they finally returned home. He would be pushing himself too far if he tried to start a new project after all that.

“Lutzy, at the very least, get some dinner in you and have a good night’s sleep before you start up again.”

“Dear, I’m sure that what you’re saying is probably the right way to go about it. But I can’t give this burning passion in me any time to fizzle out. I feel like if I let this moment escape from me, I’ll never be able to forge that katana.”

“Mmm...” Claudia groaned.

“I’m sorry to keep worrying you. After this is all finished, I promise to sleep for three days straight.” With that, Lutz ran to his workshop and shut himself in.

“What am I going to do with him, huh?” sighed Claudia to their donkey while gently stroking its neck. It seemed like the little donkey was just as fed up with him, as he had no words to say in response.

***

In the middle of the night, the sound of Lutz’s hammer resonated throughout his workshop. With strength, with vigor, in rhythm, he hammered his frustrations into the metal, but not in a careless way.

There just wasn’t a single thing that sat right with him. They all made the situation out to be some great endeavor for peace, but at the end of the day, it was nothing more than a bunch of idiots starting a pointless war and then pushing all of their responsibility off on a thirteen-year-old girl to clean up after their mess. He also couldn’t stand the knights and nobles who looked down on others based on their bloodline or station. Finally, what frustrated him more than anything was how his own incompetence only further added to the Princess’s anxiety and concern.

A grand katana, you say? No problem, I’ll see that it is done. I’ll forge a katana that can take all the unfairness in this world and shatter it into pieces!

He put more and more strength into every strike to the steel. He tightened his concentration to the point where he could perceive every single spark that flew into the air.

He flattened out the steel, folded it, put it back into the forge, then hammered it out again. Somehow, he could feel that the katana was going to turn out well, but that still wasn’t enough. It had to be the greatest, the strongest katana ever created.

He hammered out every last speck of impurities dormant in the metal, folding it until the layers of steel numbered in the tens of thousands.

He worked all throughout the night, and it wasn’t until midday that the sound of the hammer finally stopped.

As Lutz placed down the katana, his vision became blurry and the world around him began to spin.

“Oh, whoa...” He turned his body and fell right to the ground. When he realized what had happened, he looked up at the soot-covered ceiling of the workshop. While he was already lying down, he wanted to spread out his arms and legs, but his workspace was far too narrow to do so. “Wow, I really squeezed out every drop of energy I had, didn’t I?”

That went for mental as well as physical energy. He’d poured everything that he had into it. He felt so drained that it would be difficult to move a single finger, but in his heart was the satisfaction that came with overcoming an impossible challenge.

A shadow encroached over Lutz. Then, Claudia’s face came into view, peering down on him from above. Her expression was half worry and half exasperation.

“How did the katana turn out, Lutzy?”

“At the very least, it should be able to wipe away the tears of a young girl.”

“That’s a wonderful thing. In this world, that may just be the most difficult thing to do.” Claudia helped him sit up and lent her shoulder so that he could make it to bed.

Lutz was exhausted, but his mouth alone seemed to move just fine. “Did you get to feel a bit like a king, sleeping in that big bed all by yourself last night?”

“It’s a very lonely thing indeed, you know? Being a king...” Claudia threw Lutz down onto the bed.

As soon as he landed on the soft mattress, he fell directly into a deep and peaceful slumber.

“Really, what am I going to do with him?” Even though Claudia wasn’t tired at all, she crawled back to bed and lay beside him.

He smelled of sweat, he was covered in soot, his hair was an absolute mess, and he had started to grow some stubble. Even still, Claudia gazed at his sleeping face, hopelessly enamored with him.

***

While three days was a bit of an exaggeration, Lutz did sleep for an entire day.

“Morning...”

Claudia dragged the half asleep Lutz into the living room and gave him a bowl of soup and some beer.

“I’m not really that hungry, to be honest...” Lutz protested at first, but after he took his first bite, he began to eat like a ravenous wolf. In the end, he finished five whole bowls of soup.

Afterward, he fell asleep again, woke up, and then headed to the river to wash himself off. They were moving into late fall, and winter was beginning to hint at its eventual arrival, so the river water was cold against his skin.

When he got back to the house, he ate again, performed a sacred rite of closeness with Claudia, then put his now clean blacksmithing outfit back on. With that, he had truly made a full recovery, physically and mentally.

“All right, shall I get started on the finishing touches, then?”

From there on out, the work would require an unparalleled level of attention to detail. You couldn’t produce a good final product by just following your impulses alone.

To create variance in the heat of the steel, Lutz painted on layers of watered-down clay. He placed the katana in the forge and heated it aggressively. Then, when each part of the katana had been heated to the desired temperature, he pulled it out and quickly quenched it in water to cool it down.

Due to the temperature variance caused by the clay, while it didn’t curve enough to be considered a kyoku gatana, there was a considerable arc to the blade. Right down to the smallest details, it was the polar opposite of the Kikokuto.

After finishing the hardening process, he checked to make sure that there were no cracks in the blade, then began sharpening it.

He wet the surface of the arato whetstone and moved the blade back and forth against it. It was long as well as heavy. It placed quite a burden on his arms, but Lutz didn’t mind. He didn’t feel any fatigue at all, almost as though he was receiving some kind of energy from the katana itself.

He changed the whetstone out for one with a finer grain and began to sharpen the blade against it again. After replacing it with finer and finer whetstones, he drew the sharpening process to a close.

They would be dumping off all the work relating to the final tsuka and the saya onto Patrick, so Lutz just made something temporary out of plain wood to protect his work until then.

At that point, Lutz’s work was truly finished. Letting out a sweet breath of relief, Lutz looked over the final state of the blade. It was three times longer than a normal katana, and three times heavier as well. The question of whether it was even possible to swing such a katana remained in the back of his head.

This really is a katana made for an idiot.

Holding back that blunt comment deep in his heart, Lutz stepped outside.

It was a warm and windless evening. As the setting sun illuminated the profile of Lutz’s face, he drew the katana from its makeshift saya and lifted it above his head. It was heavy, but that only added to the feeling of strength that welled in him as he gripped it. With that katana, it wouldn’t matter if it were a knight in front of him or a king, he could split straight their skulls as easily as cracking an egg.

“Haah!” He brought down the katana in a swift motion. It was a swing so forceful that it could blow away all of the frustration and anger that had built up inside him. Due to the weight of the strike, the foot he placed in front of him sank slightly into the earth.

If he swung the katana all the way, it was possible that he would cut into his leg, as well as it just being inefficient, so it was necessary to stop it once it reached a certain point. Lutz managed to stop it at the point where his hands were just above his belly button. As he took on the shock of stopping the grand katana’s momentum, a sharp pain ran through Lutz’s arms.

Unless someone underwent some very specific training, it would be impossible to use that katana to its fullest ability. Even Ricardo or Djoser wouldn’t be able to wield it properly. If it was Gerhard, though, it might just have been possible. If anything, it would probably light a fire in that old man’s heart to train until he could use it with ease.

Lutz had already decided it wouldn’t be possible for him to use it himself, but for some reason, he found himself lifting it above his head once more.

Really, what the hell am I doing?

He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure at all, but he could feel power flowing into him from his hands as he held on to the katana. Surely, he could get away with one more swing.

He brought the katana down with even greater force than before, a tremendous roar sounding as he did, almost like the sound of an earthquake. Both of his arms were in great pain, but he still felt no fatigue.

One more time. Just one more time.

As if possessed by something, Lutz lifted the katana above his head once more.

Realizing that something was off, Claudia ran outside to see Lutz repeatedly swinging a katana that was far too large for his body to handle, as if he were in a trance.

“Hey, Lutzy!”

Hearing Claudia’s call, Lutz stopped immediately. He turned around and looked over to her with a confused face, wondering what was going on. “What’s up? Yelling like that all of a sudden...” In the next moment, an unbearable pain shot through his arms. “Gaaahh!”

Perhaps it could be said that it was due to his pride as a craftsman, but even then, he didn’t allow the katana to fall to the ground. Fighting through the incredible pain, Lutz carefully sheathed the blade back into the saya, and only then did he place it gently on the ground.

Claudia ran right over to him. “We still have some water left in the house. Let’s cool your arms with that.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

“Can you walk by yourself? Shall I lend you my shoulder again?”

“My legs are still doing okay. Besides, having anyone touch my arms right now might be a bit much to handle.”

Claudia decided that, in that case, it would be best for her to just carry the katana inside. “Wha—God, this thing is heavy! You were trying to swing this thing?!”

“How can I explain it... I just had the feeling that I could do it.”

“Considering that you could have pulverized your arms to the point where your life as a blacksmith would be cut short, you sure don’t seem too concerned.”

“It feels similar to the time that I forged Tsubaki.”

“Oh...so that’s how it is, huh?”

Back before they had even named Tsubaki, they had both come inches away from ending their lives, utterly charmed by the beauty of the blade. As Claudia had also experienced that unusual phenomenon, she couldn’t very well blame Lutz any further.

When you held the katana, it felt like power was flowing into you. However, in truth, that power wasn’t coming from the katana, but the wielder themselves. What a troublesome thing Lutz had created, a katana that fully released the limits that people place on themselves.

“Now then, do you think that we’ll be okay giving something so crazy as a peace offering?” asked Claudia while giving Lutz a hand towel that she had soaked in water.

“It’s not like it will be enchanted with a charm spell or anything, so it shouldn’t end up as dangerous as Tsubaki, anyway. It’s supposed to be the katana of the sun, so we can’t help but make it a bit infatuating. If anything, they’re the ones that asked for it.”

“I suppose that has some truth to it. Guess we’ll just have to leave the rest in the capable hands of our enchanter and ornamentalist.”

The two of them exchanged a nod of agreement. Whatever happened from there on out, it wasn’t their fault.

The pain in Lutz’s arm began to dull. At that rate, it seemed like he would make a full recovery in a few days. Relieved, Lutz stared up at the dirty ceiling with a smile. “I’ve done a good job with this one. I’m satisfied.”

***

“Isn’t little Listill just lovely?”

“Excuse me?”

Gerhard had paid a visit to Patrick’s workshop.

While the three craftsmen were all working together on the project, there was one clear disadvantage to their workflow. Until Patrick received the katana from Lutz, he couldn’t start on the ornamentation, and until Gerhard received the ornamented katana from Patrick, he couldn’t start on the enchanting. They could do a certain degree of prep work, but after that, they would be left twiddling their thumbs. That being said, the job at hand was one that would decide the future of the kingdom. They couldn’t afford to take on any other jobs in the meantime either.

Gerhard decided that he would check in on Patrick, as he was likely just as bored as him, but he was already wanting to go back home.

“Don’t you just love to see a little girl like her stretching as tall as she can? I can just feel the rose in my heart blooming with love! What’s important here is how she is trying her best to seem all grown up. It’s not the same as some snotty brat who’s acting all full of themselves. I think that there is a kind of nutrient that you can only get from a cute, adorable little girl, desperately trying to act in a way that’s beyond her years. On top of that, her royal status makes the whole thing twice as delectable!” Patrick spasmed about with an entranced expression on his face.

Everything that middle-aged man said made Gerhard feel like he was on the verge of understanding him, only to be reaffirmed that he didn’t understand a damn thing.

“You know, it’s a bit late to be pointing this out, but you do realize that you are talking about Her Royal Highness Princess Listill, right? You never know who is listening. Be careful with what you say.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You felt the same kind of thing yourself, am I right? Like you’d want to make her your granddaughter, give her lots of head pats, and give her a nice big allowance as well.”

“I can’t say that I don’t understand that to some extent...”

“Right?!” Seemingly excited by Gerhard’s response, Patrick climbed up over the table and brought his face right up close to him.

“Hey, calm yourself down, will you?” said Gerhard. “I’m of the same mind in wanting to make sure that Princess Listill can lead a happy life. That’s all, though, you hear?”

“Yes, but of course! Now that we have joined the fray here, we can’t settle for anything less than a happily ever after for her! Therefore, it’s only the middle of this story that we get to enjoy seeing her eyes filled with tears!”

Gerhard seriously considered whether it would be in everyone’s best interest to lock him up right away for treason.

“Patrick, let’s skip the pleasantries and get down to business. Have you decided what the engraving on the saya is going to be?”

“Why, of course!” said Patrick brightly. “I’ve settled on the motif of a dragon, flying toward the sun. The specifics, though, I’ll have to work out once I see Lutz’s katana with my own eyes.”

“You work fast...”

“Well, to be honest, when ornamenting weapons, you can kind of just rotate between dragons, tigers, lions, and phoenixes. That way, you never run out of ideas!”

“Don’t you ever get requests for the Messiah on the cross or anything?” said Gerhard.

“Putting the visage of the Messiah on a weapon of death might be a bit controversial. If such a thing were to upset the church’s sensibilities, I might end up crucified myself! And my life certainly wouldn’t save any souls either. Putting a cross alone on a weapon is just barely acceptable—maybe on the dangerous side of acceptable if anything.”

“Eventually, a bishop might come by to ask for a ceremonial sword as well...”

“Oh God... I couldn’t see anything good coming of it,” said Patrick.

If it was at all possible, Patrick didn’t want to do any work for the church. Considering how picky they were with everything, they paid terribly. At times, they might even ask for work as an almsgiving or charitable donation to the church, bringing any possible profit straight to zero.

A gentle knock came at the door.

“Master, the blacksmith, Master Lutz is here to see you.” It was the voice of Patrick’s apprentice.

Gerhard and Patrick looked at each other in surprise. Given the timing, there was only one reason that Lutz would come to visit his workshop.

Patrick jumped to respond. “Excellent, have him come right in!”

The door opened, and Lutz came in, greeting the two of them and giving them a bow. In his hand, he was holding a katana that appeared just as magnificent as they were expecting.

“Whoa, Lutz! I see you have done me the great pleasure of bringing me my new lover!”

“If I had to say one way or another, I’d say this one is more of a man, though. Are you okay with that?”

“Gender is but a trifling matter!” Patrick rushed over to Lutz like a mouse who had just found some cheese and took the katana up in his hands. It was much heavier than he expected, but he somehow managed at least not to drop it.

“So, Gerhard, I see you came as well.”

“I was rather bored, you see.”

“I have a feeling that I’m going to be pretty bored myself for a bit here.”

Lutz had finished forging the katana, but until the peace talks were officially over, you could never tell what was going to happen, so Lutz needed to be on standby. If he was to do any work at all, it had to be something that he could just drop on a moment’s notice. Forging a new katana was completely out of the question.

“There’s a good bit of difference between the boredom you feel after finishing a job and the boredom you feel while waiting for a job to begin.”

“Can’t argue with that. My heart feels light as a feather now.”

The two of them grinned at each other.

While it seemed to have been a bit of a struggle, Patrick finally managed to draw the katana from its saya. “Oh, my! It’s so thick, so big and strong! If soldiers saw a burly man swinging this thing around on the battlefield, surely they’d fall in love at first sight! I can only imagine what would go on in the tents that night...”

“Ah, yes, such is the brotherhood of man.”

The two idiots burst into laughter, and Gerhard watched them with a sigh.

After the laughter settled down, Lutz’s expression turned serious again, and he said, “I’m telling you now, you’re better off not trying to swing this katana.” He then explained what had happened to him when he tried to do so himself.

He had surpassed his physical limits by repeatedly swinging a katana that was clearly too heavy for him. So much power flooded into him that he felt like he could do anything. He didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if Claudia hadn’t called out to him when she did.

“The truth is, I finished this katana three days ago, but I had to let my arms rest until the pain subsided. Even now, I wouldn’t say that I’ve completely recovered from it.”

It was a rather frightening story, but neither of them showed any fear. Patrick’s eyes were alight with joy, and Gerhard was stroking his beard in curiosity.

“It all sounds awfully similar to how Tsubaki was before being enchanted,” said Gerhard.

“Whether it compels the wielder to kill themselves or keep on fighting, it’s true that both of them seem to ask something from the one who uses it.”

Neither of the katana had a curse placed on them or anything of the sort. In other words, the beauty or power of the katana was simply so magnificent that it caused their wielders to experience strange hallucinations, ones that would make you want to cut yourself or feel like power was coursing through your veins. It was all an illusion. They were pieces of art so incredible that they played with the feeble minds of man. At least from an artist’s perspective, who could find fault with such a wonderful thing?

So, if this all ends in failure, it won’t be the katana’s fault, but my own...

While Gerhard was lauding the katana in his mind, he also felt an immense pressure and anxiety build up inside of him.

“I’ll have to tweak the design I had in mind a bit to match such a massive katana. I’ll have to make the sun shine even brighter, and the dragon will need to be far more muscular—yes, a macho dragon! The theme will be power through strength!” Patrick got even more worked up, inspecting the katana from every angle. Eventually, he calmed himself down, and his expression turned serious. “You two, I’m terribly sorry, but could I ask you to leave for today? I’m going to get straight to work.”

Gerhard got a bit annoyed at suddenly being told to leave, but soon thought better of it. If the creative desire of a fellow craftsman had been set alight, it would be rude of him to stick around any longer. Compared to how Lutz had run away right in the middle of a meeting with the Princess, being told by Patrick to leave because he was busy could hardly even be considered rude. The only courtesy that craftsmen had to follow was to produce results.

“I’ll be expecting nothing but the best.” With that, Gerhard stood up from his seat.

Lutz also turned to Patrick and gave him a little bow, then followed behind Gerhard.

As Gerhard placed his hands on the door, he turned around once more. “Patrick, whatever you do, don’t swing that katana,” he said assertively.

Among the three of them, Patrick was the only one who hadn’t experienced how a katana could alter one’s very thoughts, although it could be said that his mind was never quite right from the beginning.

“Don’t worry, Gerhard. What do you take me for? I’m fully aware of how terrifying this katana truly is. I would never do something so rash.”

“I’m serious. Don’t even think about it.”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to make sure to let all of your apprentices know as well before I leave, okay?”

“Gerhard, you’re being a bit repetitive now.”

Gerhard grumbled. “So I am... Sorry about that.”

He still wasn’t entirely convinced, but after Patrick said that much, he couldn’t very well hang around there any longer. It wasn’t his workshop after all.

After that, it took only one week for Patrick to finish the saya, tsuka, tsuba, and all of the other finer bits of metalwork.

When decorating the tsuka for a katana, one usually did it by intricately wrapping it with string, and Patrick had learned how to do that from Lutz some time before. At that time, Patrick had completely mastered the art form in a single day, sending Lutz into a temporary state of depression.

The engravings on the saya were especially impressive. Proudly displayed on the long saya was the image of the burning sun and a ferocious dragon, plotting to get hold of it. It was as if there were an entire world depicted on that single saya. It was a masterpiece sure to spread the name of Patrick the ornamentalist far and wide.

However, at that moment, that very man was being held down by several of his apprentices in the courtyard, the katana held firmly in his right hand. Luckily, it seemed he made it out with just a dislocated shoulder.

***

In front of Gerhard was a truly incredible katana, resting on the ritual stand, as well as a pile of large jewels. He gazed at them with his arms crossed in thought. All of the preparations for the ritual were in place, but he found himself unable to move. For some reason, he just couldn’t picture himself succeeding in the enchantment. He couldn’t do it, but he had no choice but to do it. He hadn’t experienced that feeling since he enchanted the bewitching katana, Tsubaki.

At that time, though, the weapon in front of him inspired him to the point where he knew that it would all somehow work out. But now, the situation was even more dire. He simply had no idea how he could engrave a five-rune light enchantment, nor what was necessary to achieve such a feat.

Did he have any issues with the katana or the ornamentation? No, those two had done a fantastic job.

He had ordered all the most influential merchants in the Count’s domain to gather the largest and purest jewels available, but even still, Gerhard wasn’t satisfied. He tried getting himself a brand-new hammer and graver, but that was an absolute waste of time. After all, the best tools were the ones that you were used to working with.

What could he do? How should he proceed? Was it really an impossible task from the outset? The only progress made was the unstoppable progression of time, further adding to Gerhard’s frustrations.

The odds of success were incredibly thin, but he would have to bet on those odds and give it a try.

It wasn’t just a simple case of engraving ancient runes into the blade. You had to imbue those runes with mana. The mana required to enchant something with light magic was incomparable to a normal enchantment.

Perhaps he really did require larger jewels to pull it off. However, there likely weren’t any jewels larger than what he had in front of him in all of existence. He found his thoughts trapped in the same old loop.

“Master, might I say something?” said Djoser from behind with a reserved tone.

“What is it?” Searching through his mind with no exit in sight, Gerhard preferred not to be interrupted. While he tried to hide his frustration, it slipped out in his voice anyway.

While it was Djoser who asked to speak, he couldn’t help but be reluctant after hearing his master’s response. It wasn’t until Gerhard gave him a piercing—even murderous—stare that said, “Don’t you dare shut up now after interrupting me,” that Djoser finally opened his mouth.

“If you are looking for a very large jewel, I might have a lead on where we might find one.”

“You do?”

Honestly, Gerhard was wondering what the hell he was going on about. Gerhard had used the name of the Count to order all of the most powerful merchants in the domain to find the highest-quality jewels and bring them to him. Even then, he couldn’t find any that satisfied him.

While Djoser was a high-ranking knight, his position did not afford him the privilege many assumed. While he was technically a noble, that too was only a result of his knighthood, his station being lower than even a baronet. He was really somewhere in between a noble and a peasant. Was he to say that someone of his status was able to procure that large of a jewel? Gerhard couldn’t think of it as anything more than a poorly timed joke.

However, as Gerhard considered the benefits of having Djoser take his leave until the enchantment was finished, a thought popped into his mind. Djoser had only said that he had a lead on where one could be found, not that he could procure it himself.

“All right, let’s hear it. What is the name of the jewel you’re thinking about?”

“The Iris of the Overlord...” said Djoser as if he fully realized that what he was saying was incredibly dumb.

That was the jewel that the barbarians were offering the kingdom at the signing ceremony. Suggesting that they use that jewel to enchant the katana that they were essentially trading it for was utter nonsense. However, Gerhard couldn’t help but simulate in his mind what the enchantment might turn out like if they were to use the Iris of the Overlord.

He would place the giant pink diamond near the center of the ritual stand and put the rest of the jewels he had gathered around it, then pour mana in the katana. If he didn’t make any mistakes with the amount of mercury needed for the process...

Wait, could that actually work?

With the Iris of the Overlord and Lutz’s grand katana, it would likely be able to withstand the enormous amount of mana that would need to run through it as well.

I’ll be damned, that could really work.

Seeing a dangerous light begin to dwell in his master’s eyes, Djoser grew uneasy. While it was he who had suggested it in the first place, he wondered if Gerhard was seriously considering such a thing.

“Let’s do it,” Gerhard whispered.

A shiver ran throughout Djoser’s body. If they made one misstep, it would become an international incident. A lowly knight of the Count, such as himself, could easily be crushed by the powers at play. Having only just greeted his second child into the world, he wanted to avoid that at all costs. But was there any alternative? He had only suggested that because there was no other option he could think of. If he had kept his mouth shut, it could have at least limited the danger that he exposed himself to, but his fealty to the Count and his master wouldn’t allow that. Now that he had come that far, there was no choice but to support Gerhard with everything that he had.

“Djoser, get in touch with everyone involved in making this katana. Tell them to meet at this workshop tomorrow afternoon.”

“When you say everyone involved in making the katana—”

“I mean that lovey-dovey married couple, the pervert, and that degenerate hero. Then, of course, me and you.”

Djoser would have liked to be able to say, “And just who are you talking about?” but as Gerhard spoke, all of their names and faces popped clearly into his head.

Now that I’m fully implicated in this, I’ll be an errand boy or whatever it takes.

Djoser stood up to leave, but Gerhard called to him once more.

“Oh, one more thing, Djoser.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. Because of you, I can see a glimmer of hope.”

Gerhard had dragged Djoser into troublesome situations countless times, but it was that side of his master that made Djoser unable to leave him.

“That’s just playing dirty now...” whispered Djoser under his breath before leaving the workshop behind him.

***

The next day, everyone that Gerhard had asked for gathered at his workshop. It felt a bit cramped with six people in the small room.

Checking that everyone had arrived, Gerhard scanned the workshop before beginning his explanation. He told them all how the Iris of the Overlord would be necessary to succeed in a five-rune light enchantment, and because of that, they would all need to be present at the signing ceremony so they could finish the rest of the job on location. To that end, they would need to convince the Count to convince the Marquis to convince His Majesty the King to allow it.

After Gerhard finished explaining his plan, the eyes of all those present gathered on him with the very same look. One that said, “What the hell is this guy talking about?”

“And what do you plan to do if someone opposes this idea?” Patrick cocked his head to the side.

“If that happens, then I’ll tell them that we can’t finish the katana and they’ll just have to find something else of equal value to give as a peace offering,” said Gerhard flippantly. “In the first place, it was that idiotic Marquis Eldenburger who thoughtlessly agreed to this awful deal. He’ll have no choice but to take responsibility for it by helping us out.” As Gerhard continued speaking, all of his anger shifted directly toward the Marquis.

That’s right. It’s all that guy’s fault.

“If he was going to engage in a diplomatic negotiation that revolved around katana, he should have had somebody with him who was knowledgeable about such weapons. Because he went into it with just enough knowledge to give him unfounded confidence, he ended up dancing right on the palm of the enemy’s second prince. I’ve got no sympathy for a person who went into negotiations with someone they looked down on as a barbarian only to lose in a game of wits!”

Djoser went to calm down Gerhard before he heated up any further. “Master, please refrain from making any more remarks that could be interpreted as criticism toward a high-ranking nobleman.”

“What do you mean, ‘could be interpreted as criticism,’ huh? Interpretation has nothing to do with it; I’m criticizing him loud and clear!”

“Please remember that it is due to his efforts that we haven’t yet resorted to handing over the Princess.”

Gerhard groaned in response. That was one thing that he couldn’t refute.

“May I say something as well?” Claudia raised her hand. There was an unusual amount of irritation in her voice. “I’m not exactly sure of the odds of success here, but in the event that we fail, is it your intention to hand over the Princess?”

“I would do no such thing. Personally, I want to see the Princess lead a happy life. Also, if I were to support using Her Highness as a bargaining chip like that, I imagine that I would end up earning the ire of far too many in this kingdom. For those two reasons, I want to avoid that at all costs. And that is exactly why I have called all of you here today.”

Everyone had yet to fully process Gerhard’s words.

“On the odd chance that we fail, we’ll have to make up for it with the invaluable weapons of everyone present today. First, the Kikokuto, then Tsubaki, my Ittetsu, Knight Killer, Love Letter... We’ll lay them all out and convince the other party that they have an adequate combined value.”

An unsettling atmosphere spread around the workshop. Especially Ricardo, who’d had nothing to do with the negotiations up until that point, was completely in shock.

“Does the peace offering not have to be a single item?” asked Lutz.

“That has been the assumption for both sides, but there isn’t any rule specifically stating so. It all comes down to whether we can convince the other side to accept it. I can’t imagine that anyone would turn down that offer after seeing these incredible katana lying side by side.”

Patrick nodded in agreement. “I heard that when the Prince saw my little Kikokuto, he was already giving off a lovey-dovey aura, so if he had a blade harem before his eyes, his soul as a collector would be over the moon for sure.”

“Ah, um, yeah...” Because he put it in such an unusual way, Gerhard found it hard to wholeheartedly agree.

“Okay, I see how it is. You’re saying that if we want to save Princess Listill, then we need to be prepared to sacrifice something as well, am I right? Very well, if it comes to that, I’ll give my beloved katana to the cause.” Claudia said with the corner of her lip twisting upward. She still looked anxious, but underneath it all, there was a hint of excitement.

“Are you sure, dear?” asked Lutz.

Claudia gave him a little nod in response. “Not like we have any other choice here. Besides, even if Love Letter falls into the hands of the federation, that’ll just mean that your words of love for me will spread all the way across the continent.”

“Let’s just pray for Gerhard’s success...”

With that, Claudia had been convinced. She was a reasonable and understanding person, so Gerhard wasn’t too worried about her. Djoser would likely oblige as well. The Count wouldn’t say no after coming that far either. The problem was Ricardo.

Ricardo was nervously stroking his fingers along Tsubaki’s saya. His whole body was screaming that he didn’t want anything to do with their plan. If they tried to press him too hard, it wasn’t impossible that he would draw his katana right then and there.

It was Lutz who offered a path to salvation, saying, “Shouldn’t we perhaps make Tsubaki an exception here?”

Ricardo’s face lit up instantly. He gave Lutz a look that said, “That’s my good buddy! Give it to the old bastard!”

“And why would you suggest that?” Gerhard’s face was stern.

“Among the enchanted blades here, Tsubaki is particularly unusual, completely different from the rest. If their king were to chop his own head off at the signing ceremony, a full-scale war would be unavoidable.”

“At this rate, couldn’t you say that would be even better? It would certainly leave behind fewer loose ends.”

As his master began to spout off something utterly insane, Djoser stepped into the fray in a desperate attempt to stop him. “We can’t have that. Don’t even think about it. Master, even if just for this moment, please refrain from falling into your usual habit of trying to take the easy path when things start to get annoying for you!”

“Hey, hey, that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Right?” Gerhard looked around at everyone, but no one seemed willing to support him.

Gerhard had at least managed to get past the first step of getting everyone on board, but it was a day that made him rethink just what made someone a charismatic leader.

Chapter 5: The King’s Sword

Gerhard went to convince the Count of his plan’s merits.

“Are you serious?” the Count demanded, incredulously.

Gerhard and the Count set out to convince the Marquis.

“Are you insane?” replied the Marquis with a look of suspicion.

The Count and the Marquis went to convince the King.

“When was the last time the two of you got any sleep?” said the King with genuine concern in his eyes.

It was the obvious reaction to being told that they were planning on enchanting the katana at the signing ceremony, using the Iris of the Overlord as a catalyst. The fact that Gerhard wasn’t immediately sent to the gallows for suggesting it was a testament to the King’s kindness and consideration.

In the end, they managed to convince the King. The key part of the plan, which assured the King somewhat, was that even if they were to fail, they wouldn’t propose giving Princess Listill to the barbarians. Instead, they would offer the several incredible katana of the Shander Domain as an offering. They wouldn’t even need to dig into the King’s pockets. What a wonderful thing that was.

With that, all that was left was to wait for the day of the signing ceremony, but there was one more troublesome bit of work left for Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger to do. He would have to go and inform the second prince of the federation, Prince Arsames, of their intentions.

They could just show up on the day and just say, “Surprise! We’re going to need to use the Iris of the Overlord for a bit.” While that could be an interesting turn of events in itself, if the federation were to be angered by that and call off the signing ceremony, the blame would almost certainly fall on the shoulders of Beowulf. With someone from the empire being there as a witness to the ceremony, they wouldn’t be able to talk their way out of that one. Therefore, they would need to get approval ahead of time.

While in that age, they didn’t have the business slogan of “Inform, contact, discuss,” the basic essentials of business were the same anywhere you went.

So, we’re going to surprise them with a preliminary discussion to avoid surprising them? Is that not a contradiction?

Beowulf requested another meeting with Prince Arsames in the tent on the border, but when he tried to explain, the Prince just said, “What the hell is this guy talking about?” while twisting his sculpted face in discontent.

Yeah, well...that’s about the reaction I was expecting.

Beowulf fully understood where the Prince was coming from. He’d had the exact same reaction only a few days before. All the same, when dealing with international relations, you couldn’t give the opposition an inch. Beowulf had to maintain an attitude that conveyed it as an entirely natural request.

Beowulf held his head up proudly and continued the explanation. “Was there anything I just said that was surprising to you? Light enchantments require an incomparable amount of mana to perform. You should know that better than anyone, Prince Arsames.”

Arsames seemed at a loss for words, and Beowulf didn’t miss his frantic reaction.

As we thought, this guy knew full well that it would be virtually impossible to create a katana with a five-rune light enchantment.

Beowulf was completely reaffirmed. However, he couldn’t make a scene there, so he accused the Prince of tricking him. Arsames had only said what he wanted. It was Beowulf that had agreed to it all too thoughtlessly. If he made a fuss about it there, it would be the same as admitting to his ignorance.

This time around, it was Arsames who was in no position to refuse. If Beowulf said something like “All right, if we aren’t permitted to use the Iris of the Overlord, then could you tell us another way to perform such a powerful light enchantment?” then Arsames wouldn’t have an answer for him. If he tried to protest any further without knowing an alternative way to do it himself, then the witness, who had been directing a cold gaze at Arsames, wasn’t likely to stand for it.

“Very well... Performing the enchantment there on the day sounds rather interesting, anyway.”

“Yes, we thought that it may also serve as a form of entertainment as we strive to deepen the bonds of peace between our nations.”

Arsames nodded back with a look so aggressive that it couldn’t have been any further from peaceful.

At that time, the two of them were thinking the exact same thing.

I absolutely hate this guy...

“And, if the enchantment is to fail, how do you plan on compensating us? The Iris of the Overlord would be broken into pieces, if I’m not mistaken.”

“In that case, we will offer our very own katana, including the Kikokuto that I showed you the other day. In addition to that, we will give you three other blades made by the same craftsman. Any one of them is of a level of quality that they can be considered national treasures.”

“It appears that your kingdom is rather opposed to having your Princess wed into our royal family. If you truly wish for peace, surely there is no greater pact than one of matrimony.”

“Our king loves Princess Listill deeply, you see. She is the apple of his eye.”

“Hmm...” Arsames snorted in dissatisfaction. “We can’t be sure that those four katana will really be of equal value to the Iris of the Overlord until we see them for ourselves.”

“In terms of overall value, we would actually be taking a considerable loss in comparison. Besides, all of that is only in the event that the enchantment ends in failure.” From Beowulf’s point of view, the Prince had a lot of nerve saying all of that after his heart had nearly been swayed by the Kikokuto alone. With four masterpieces of that quality lined up side by side, Beowulf was confident that he could convince him.

“However—” Arsames tried to protest further, but he was cut off by the sound of a fist slamming on the table.

The man serving as a witness folded his hands together and stared at the two of them with tired eyes. “Let’s stop it there for now. It’s not like we can put an objective price on works of art. I believe that there is no choice but to sort out the finer details of this on the day, don’t you agree?”

The witness had been called there by Arsames, but he was taking a neutral stance regardless. He hadn’t been totally convinced by Beowulf either, but the Prince would have to back down for the time being.

Beowulf also sensed that it was time to back off for a while. Nothing good would come of trying to make a neighboring country lose face there.

“Well then, let us meet next at the signing ceremony... Although I do believe that I had said something similar last time too.”

“I assure you that I won’t be calling for another meeting before then. Don’t worry.”

Arsames and Beowulf both put on rather terrifying smiles and exited the tent at the same time.

Beowulf walked on while deep in thought.

Surprisingly, that guy might be the most formidable of the lot.

As the witness didn’t really have any defining features in his face, Beowulf had already forgotten what he looked like after only taking a few steps outside of the tent.

***

It was the day of the signing ceremony. Along with the three thousand soldiers that were stationed at the garrison, an additional two thousand soldiers were sent in as guards. The federation displayed an equal show of force as well, bringing the total number of soldiers gathering at the border to around ten thousand.

“Damn, I really should have set up a stall of some sort around here,” said Claudia with a laugh. No matter the circumstances that sparked the war, the only thing that she saw was needless expenses.

Seeing such a large force gathered on both sides bred anxiety in the hearts of the soldiers, but at the same time, they held on to the hope that they might very soon be able to return home. If they were suddenly told to fight under those circumstances, it would surely devolve into a messy, bloody spectacle.

“Of all the greedy and immoral things to say... This is a sacred meeting of peace, you know?” Djoser shot Claudia a bitter stare.

With every fiber of her being, Claudia wanted to say, “By sacred meeting of peace, do you mean wiping the asses of a bunch of idiots that started a pointless conflict after listening to drivel spewed out by the church, only to have the rug pulled out from underneath them?” But considering she was surrounded by a whole army, even Claudia decided to hold herself back a bit.

Following Djoser, Lutz, Claudia, and Patrick entered a large tent. Inside, there was the ritual stand for the enchantment, an assortment of all the tools that would be needed for the job, and Gerhard, standing there with a smile that exuded absolute confidence. He couldn’t have been more ready.

Lutz wasn’t sure if he knew anyone other than Gerhard who could stand on such a grand stage with that sly grin on his face. He wasn’t even sure if he could do such a thing himself. After some thought, he decided that it would be impossible. He’d either run away or be stuck there rolling around the floor, holding on to his churning stomach.

“By the way, I don’t see the hero here.” Patrick looked around the tent.

“If you’re looking for him, he’s off guarding the Count.”

“Don’t you feel like having him as a guard might be scarier than going it alone?” said Lutz, forcing a smile. He wasn’t sure that he could stay calm with someone who was carrying a weapon that indiscriminately destroyed the minds of anyone in its vicinity.

Everybody found a place to sit down and nervously waited for the Iris of the Overlord to arrive. It was Gerhard, the person with the most weight resting on his shoulders, who actually appeared the calmest. Of course, he felt some concern as to whether he could really pull it off. He was also afraid of what would happen if he were to fail. However, in that moment, it was the excitement of having the chance to produce the greatest masterpiece of his entire life that was filling his heart to the brim.

The greatest masterpiece of his life, his magnum opus... As of late, he found himself thinking that very same thing every time he took on a new job. Perhaps that was exactly how a craftsman should be. Perfection wasn’t the end of his journey; it was just a stop along the way. He had to keep producing quality enchantments, each project greater than the last. That was how the art form evolved. What a wonderful thing it was to be able to live a life where, if someone were to ask you what your proudest creation was, you were able to say that your greatest masterpiece was the one that you were going to make next.

We can’t stop here. Isn’t that right, Borbus?

Gerhard’s friend had at one point stopped his journey to preserve his status, but in the end, he spent his very last breath in pursuit of new skills. For that alone, Gerhard even felt a bit envious.

Absorbed in a torrent of emotions, Gerhard went to place his hand on his katana, the memento left behind by his dear friend, but his hand cut straight through the air where it should have been.

That’s right. I left it in the hands of Marquis Eldenburger.

Seeing the unusual motion that Gerhard had just made, Patrick looked at him in confusion. Unsure of what else to do with his hand, Gerhard lifted it up and scratched his head even though there wasn’t the slightest itch.

Surely this feeling must be Borbus’s way of telling me not to worry myself too much. That’s got to be it. No mistaking it. That’s how I’ll choose to think about it anyway.

At the very least, it was true that Gerhard’s shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

***

Five men surrounded a grand marble table that was made for that very occasion. On the side of the kingdom, there was King Rathbard Wollscheid and Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger. On the side of the federation, there was King Kassandros and the second prince, Arsames. Finally, there was the neutral witness from the empire.

Leaving ample space in the middle, thousands of soldiers stood in a circle around them and watched over the proceedings.

Kassandros carefully looked over the grand katana that Lutz had forged. The pronounced wrinkles all over his face were evidence of his advanced age, but the tautness of his body and his burly physique looked anything but that of a seventy-year-old man.

The rumors that he slept with young women to suck out their youth started to gain some believability. The idea was absolutely preposterous, but seeing how that old man was built like an inverted triangle, all common sense just flew out the window.

The katana was three times heavier than a normal one, but King Kassandros held it up with ease, inspecting it further. The hamon of the blade was beautiful, and he had no complaints about the length either. The tsuka felt as if it were perfectly constructed for his hands.

Ordinarily, he would want to test it out immediately, but he couldn’t exactly cut down any of the captive soldiers from the kingdom at a peace ceremony. What a shame it was.

The mere thought that the katana was soon to be his was enough for the corners of his lips to twist into a grin. It was incredible enough as it was, but they were about to enchant it as well. And for that enchantment, they planned to use a giant pink diamond that was said to be like no other in the entire continent, the Iris of the Overlord.

How incredibly interesting... The jewel that I had been so reluctant to give to those monkeys of the kingdom suddenly feels like nothing more than a raw material to me.

“Very well then. Do it.” Kassandros placed the katana down and pulled the pink diamond out from a bag. Then, he carelessly threw it over onto the table.

The diamond chipped off a piece of the marble table and was about to roll onto the floor. A knight of the kingdom rushed to catch it and took it over to the tent that they had prepared for the enchantment.

For the purpose of inspection, a federation soldier followed along as well. They couldn’t have the kingdom trying to trick them by using a mundane jewel rather than the Iris of the Overlord.

Watching the two of them leave, Kassandros somewhat relaxed into his chair, which was far too small for him. “All right, while we await the katana, shall we get this signing ceremony out of the way?”

“You do realize that the signing ceremony is the main event here, right?” King Rathbard gave him a smirk.

Kassandros seemed like a rather interesting individual, or perhaps the word impetuous would describe him better. Rathbard hadn’t quite decided which was more fitting. It was still a possibility that his behavior that day had all been a performance.

The witness to the ceremony placed six sheets of parchment on the table. They detailed the terms of the peace agreement. Three sheets of parchment were written in the language of the kingdom, and three of them were in the language of the federation. Both Kings signed each one of them, and, including the witness, the copies were split between the three countries.

So, that does it, huh?

More than feeling relief at the end of the war, there was an emptiness in Kassandros’s heart. They had spilled blood and burned funds for ten whole years, and it all ended with a signature on a few scraps of paper.

Both of them had continued to station troops at the border out of fear that the other side would attack. Neither of them could justify ending the war without anything to show for it.

From the federation’s perspective, they had planned to intimidate the kingdom with the Iris of the Overlord and take the Princess as a hostage, or perhaps force them to give up a piece of the kingdom’s territory. But after the kingdom brought up the idea of using the Iris of the Overlord as a catalyst for an enchantment, all of their plans fell apart. They couldn’t refuse a gift that the kingdom was giving to them. That was a difficult part of that kind of gift-giving diplomacy.

Kassandros’s son had been lauded as a diplomatic genius for getting the kingdom to agree to an impossible task, but in that moment, Kassandros thought that Arsames had done something very unnecessary indeed. It seemed that it was dangerous to drive an opponent too far back into a corner as well.

They would give the kingdom a jewel. That jewel would be used to enchant a katana that they would then receive. At the end of the day, with the value of the katana and the enchantment put together, it would be the federation that was placed in the kingdom’s debt.

It all rests on how the katana turns out...

Until he actually saw the katana, he wouldn’t know whether he could just accept it as a symbol of peace or whether he would end up having to give another gift to the kingdom to make up for the difference in value. At that point, it might have been better if the enchantment had failed altogether. That way, he could just accept the four enchanted blades that they had shown ahead of time as a favor to the kingdom.

But still, he wanted to see what would happen if that amazing katana were to be enchanted using the world’s greatest jewel. Having that as his very own katana would be simply magnificent. Perhaps it would be okay to give up a bit of diplomatic leverage.

Kassandros wasn’t thinking that out of greed alone either. To receive something that so grandly symbolized the royal family’s authority had many benefits in itself. The federation was a large collection of mildly influential families. Accounting for both large and small territories, there were several hundred people in positions of political leadership.

In other words, I need something that even an idiot could take one look at me and understand that I am indeed the King.

He had been wanting something like that for some time, but he had been unable to find it. The pink diamond by the name of the Iris of the Overlord was a truly valuable item, but it was still a bit weak to serve as a symbol of royalty, a display of his power. Jewels were beautiful, but they didn’t serve as the symbol of a warrior. That katana, however...

The signing ceremony came safely to a close. Afterward, they all changed locations to a large tent for a banquet, but Kassandros’s mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of the katana.

***

In Gerhard’s makeshift workshop, there were the three craftsmen, Claudia, and Djoser. Finally, there were the two knights who were there to watch over the enchantment. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the Iris of the Overlord.

“Well...it’s big. Definitely big.”

“It’s mysterious to think that a jewel could grow to this size...”

“I can feel my head spinning just looking at it.”

“It’s almost like a huge areola.”

“Patrick, shut up for a bit, would you?”

Nobody there could even move a muscle. It was their first time seeing something that valuable outside of a katana. As everybody’s vision focused on the jewel, a hand came into view, taking it away. Following that hand, their eyes landed on Gerhard, who was giving them a disappointed look.

“Don’t forget why we are here. I’m about to use this thing as raw materials for an enchantment.” Gerhard quickly headed over to the ritual stand.

“Gerhard, are you really going to shatter that jewel?” asked Patrick, even though they had already come that far.

“We came here for that purpose from the very beginning, right?”

“But, still...using an incredible jewel that doesn’t even have a scratch on it, doesn’t it just feel a bit like teaching all kinds of naughty things to a pure and innocent young girl? No, you just can’t! You can’t do such a thing!”

“Don’t you find that exciting?”

“Well, yeah... I do a bit.” Patrick continued to grumble while he made his way to the opposite side of the tent so he couldn’t get in the way of anything. It was unclear just how he’d been convinced by what Gerhard had said, though.

Following Patrick’s lead, Lutz and everyone moved out of the way and sat down in a place where they could still see everything that was going on.

Right as Gerhard was about to begin, the knight from the kingdom pointed his finger at him and said, “Hey, enchanter, we won’t allow any failure here. I’m sure you understand, but the prestige of our kingdom hangs in the balance. If you shatter that jewel without producing any results, your life alone won’t be enough to compensate for your failure!”

Djoser was enraged by the knight’s arrogance and walked over to him with exaggerated strides. “You insolent boor, even after rising to the station of knight, do you not realize the difference in your status? My master, Gerhard, has earned a station equal to that of a baronet through his services to the Shander domain. Don’t you dare speak to him so carelessly!”

“By ‘equal to,’ you mean that he hasn’t officially gained that title, correct? As soon as he sets foot outside of the Count’s domain, such a title is invalid and worthless. I simply offered a warning as an aide to His Majesty the King. I don’t need some disrespectful country bumpkin knight to lecture me about it.”

“You are nothing but an errand boy for the King. The royal knights are currently stationed as guards, unable to leave their posts.”

Their argument grew even more heated.

Lutz was watching them from the side, thinking about how dumb an argument it was, when the knight from the federation came over to him and said, “How unsightly... Knights from the kingdom are always fighting over this kind of pointless egotism.”

“They’re like two foxes who are borrowing the authority of tigers, squabbling over which of their masters has the finest coat of fur.”

It seemed that the federation knight liked how Lutz phrased that and burst out into laughter. “A ha ha! Good one. I think I’m starting to like you. Oh, I’m Gwynn by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m the katana smith of the Shander domain, Lutz. Glad to make your acquaintance,” he said with a bow.

The knight, Gwynn, gave him a warm and accepting look. It seemed like he wasn’t the type to hold ill will toward someone for just being from an enemy nation. “Are you saying that you made the katana that our general was practically drooling all over?”

“If it was a huge, thick katana, then yes, that would be my work.”

“After all of this is over, do you want to come work in the federation? You’d be able to work directly under the King, or some superrich family, maybe. Either way, we could secure you a pretty nice seat.” Gwynn’s voice had suddenly turned serious.

However, Lutz just quietly shook his head in response. “I’m sorry, but I’m not really thinking about anything like that right now.”

If it were just working on the blade itself, that might have been fine, but Lutz still needed the help of Gerhard and Patrick to create that kind of finished product. Besides, he had grown rather fond of their current relationship as the three craftsmen of the Shander domain.

“Guess I’ve been rejected, then, huh? It’s okay, though. I was probably coming on a bit strong, considering we just met. I’ll ask you again some other day,” Gwynn said in a joking tone before going over to talk to Patrick. It seemed that he was trying to scout anyone he could.

“Hey, Lutzy.” This time, it was Claudia who came over to him, her face looking rather serious. “After these peace talks are over, you should really take some time to consider how you are going to do things from here on out.”

“It’s that serious, huh?”

“From today onward, your name will spread far and wide, not just as a skilled craftsman, but as a man worth using. You’ll start to receive requests from a variety of places. There may even be the danger that people will attempt to kidnap you or send assassins. Whether you like it or not, you may have no choice but to accept the backing of some bigwig somewhere for protection.” Claudia turned to look directly at Lutz. Her unwavering gaze carried true concern for him.

While it may not have been the time, Lutz couldn’t help but be entranced by her beautiful eyes.

“Our best choice would probably be Count Shander,” Claudia continued. “Otherwise, the Marquis or even the King would be fine. The Princess also seemed like she was looking for someone to support her. It would even be fine to accept an invitation from her older brother.”

“Um, hmm, ah...”

“Well, you don’t need to think about it that hard, anyway. I’ve said it before, but no matter what path you choose to follow, it doesn’t matter. No matter where you choose to go, I’ll be right beside you the whole time, so it’s all the same either way.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

Claudia’s words of encouragement were always filled with confidence in their love for each other, and Lutz always found himself saved by that. He was so very grateful. When they got back home, he would seriously consider what would be best for their future.

While all of that was going on, it seemed that the argument between Djoser and the other knight had finally come to a close. The knight from the kingdom was passed out on the ground after getting punched straight in the jaw by Gerhard. It seemed that Djoser had also received a blow to the head. While Djoser had received a considerable amount of training to resist pain, he was spinning around while holding tightly to his head.

“If you want to watch, go sit quietly in the corner!” Gerhard yelled.

Not wanting to deprive his apprentice of an important learning opportunity, he didn’t go as far as to tell him to leave. That was very like him indeed.

“All right then.” Gerhard placed the Iris of the Overlord in the middle of the ritual stand. As the mercury flowed onto it, the ritual stand began to let off a faint glow. The jewel started to emit a pulsing sound, like a beating heart. The process of breathing life into the katana had begun.

The inside of the tent was completely silent except for the sound of the pulsing jewel and the gentle scraping of metal as Gerhard engraved the runes.

***

It was a banquet lacking merriment or enthusiasm. Everyone just silently digested the wine and food that was brought out to them.

They had all spent the last ten years hating each other, killing each other. Just because they had entered a momentary peace didn’t mean that they would suddenly line up shoulder to shoulder and start acting like best friends. Even still, there was a bare minimum of public courtesy to uphold.

“From here on out, I look forward to our collaboration.”

“Today, we have made a reliable ally indeed.”

That was about all one needed to say, but King Kassandros of the federation seemed like his head was up in the clouds, unable to keep a conversation going.

Arsames, the second prince, tried to liven things up a bit by striking up a conversation with King Rathbard, but the King only offered brief and lukewarm responses. If anything he seemed annoyed by Arsames’s mere presence, so he quickly gave it up as a bad job.

Even if it didn’t go as far as making friends with somebody, Arsames wanted to at least form a connection that he could casually talk to. If he pushed too hard, though, he’d give off an impression as someone who couldn’t pick up on such social cues. That was the last thing that he wanted.

It was a very expensive banquet that no one seemed to be enjoying. The space between songs played by the band wasn’t filled with applause, but with sighs. Everyone just wanted to go home. In that desire alone, everyone’s hearts and minds were as one.

Then, at the entrance to the giant tent, the federation knight, Gwynn, split the thick cloth opening with both hands and rushed to kneel before the two kings.

“Your Majesty, the katana is finished.”

“The enchantment was successful?!” Kassandros’s face lit up so bright that you wouldn’t believe how grim the atmosphere of the banquet had been just moments ago.

From Rathbard’s perspective, Kassandros’s demeanor invited a confusing irritation. He had seemed so incredibly bored when speaking with Rathbard, but now that the topic of that katana had been brought up, he was all ears. It wasn’t a great comparison, but Rathbard thought that might be how it would feel to have your partner cheat right in front of you.

“Tell me, how did the katana turn out?” Kassandros pressed further.

“I’m terribly sorry, Your Majesty. With my limited vocabulary alone, I cannot find a word to describe it other than sublime.” Gwynn spoke proudly, with just a drop of humor in his voice. To be able to personally deliver such a message to his lord was a great honor to a knight.

“Very well, very well. We can’t have someone of your station being reduced to a simple messenger, anyway.”

“Do I have your permission to let the three craftsmen through, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, let them in right away, and make sure that they have my katana with them.”

Gwynn quickly yet gracefully went outside the tent.

“King Kassandros, might I remind you that those craftsmen are retainers of our kingdom?” Beowulf warned, implying that he was not to give orders to subjects of the kingdom. It might have seemed like he was being a bit finicky, but if he were to allow it there, it would be the same as giving permission for him to do it again. It wasn’t impossible that he would start barking orders at the soldiers or knights of the kingdom next time.

“Oh, my apologies. I see that the advisors of King Rathbard are very loyal indeed.”

It was an apology that didn’t show the tiniest ounce of remorse, but it was still an apology. Beowulf couldn’t say anything further about the matter.

It seemed like the craftsmen were waiting by the entrance, as it wasn’t long before they walked into the tent. Gerhard took the lead, holding the katana firmly in both hands. After him came Lutz and Patrick, walking a bit behind him to either side. Gerhard knelt, and the other two followed his lead.

Lutz and Patrick had absolutely no idea how they were supposed to behave in the presence of a king, so they decided to just leave everything to Gerhard.

“As a symbol of peace between our two nations, we offer this katana to you, Your Majesty,” said Gerhard.

Gwynn received the katana from Gerhard and presented it to Kassandros.

His curiosity leaking from his face, Kassandros drew the blade just a few inches. A faint, warm light emanated from it. It wasn’t unusual to describe a blade as shiny, but in this case, the light wasn’t being reflected; it was coming directly from the blade itself.

Kassandros simply couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was stripping off his underwear right before a beautiful girl. While it was a vulgar comparison, that was simply how much excitement and anticipation he was carrying in his heart.

The dimly lit tent was suddenly engulfed in light. The thick blade was as bright and beautiful as the sky on a clear day. It wasn’t just gorgeous. It wasn’t just luminous. Simply holding it made Kassandros feel like power was coursing through his entire body.

Quite the opposite of Kassandros, who had been completely charmed by the katana, Arsames’s expression was one of dissatisfaction. Not only was he forced to play along with the ridiculous idea of enchanting the katana on the day, but they had actually succeeded, and now his father was totally enamored with it. It was displeasing—the very height of displeasure, in fact. It was like his diplomatic skills were being discredited right to his face. If they had failed, he could have sneered at King Rathbard and brought home no less than four incredible katana. Seeing his father so innocently overjoyed at that outcome, without even understanding what it meant for them, was the thing that irritated him the most.

“Is this katana really imbued with a five-rune light enchantment? If you just engraved the extra runes without actually using any mana, it would be nothing but a counterfeit,” said Arsames, giving in to his frustration.

It seemed that Gerhard was rather offended that someone would try to belittle the work that he had so desperately committed himself to. He stood abruptly and tore open his shirt, revealing his muscular chest developed through years of training, and shouted, “If it does not live up to your standards, I welcome you to try out the cutting edge on us right here and now! Go ahead, get a taste of the sharpness of a katana that is a treasure like no other in this world!”

The nobles were completely overwhelmed by the old craftsman’s passion. The two other craftsmen behind him gave Gerhard a glare that said, “Don’t go and drag us into this now.”

In that state of silence and confusion, Kassandros was the one to make the first move. “Let it go, Arsames. Before such works of art, people have a tendency to lose their inhibitions at times.”

“I understand...” After his father had publicly recognized the katana as a grand work of art, Arsames couldn’t make any more of a fuss over the matter. The sense of defeat weighed heavily on his shoulders. To make matters worse, it was his own father who had dealt him the final blow.

“I want to try out this katana right away. The banquet still isn’t finished, but would you mind if I stepped out for a bit?” asked King Kassandros.

King Rathbard nodded. “Not at all. I’ll come as well.”

As everyone headed out of the tent, carrying a feeling of curiosity and anticipation in their hearts, Arsames alone twisted his handsome face in humiliation.

Hearing that the King was about to perform a demonstration of his swordsmanship, nobles and soldiers alike gathered around to watch him from a distance. As there were many soldiers who couldn’t leave their station, only around half of them were observing the King, amounting to about five thousand soldiers in total.

Completely unfazed by the crowd, Kassandros slowly drew the katana and readied it above his head. “Haa!” He swung the katana down cleanly.

A trail of light traced the arc of the blade, remaining in the air momentarily before fading out.

He swung the blade up in a kiriage, then swung it parallel to the ground. Each stroke of the blade flowed into the next, drawing that same line of light in the air as he went, creating a fantastic spectacle.

“That’s no good...” whispered Gerhard bitterly.

Wondering what he was going on about at a time like that, Lutz shot Gerhard a confused glare.

Gerhard continued. “If I were to fight him, I think I might just lose.”

“If he got even more powerful thanks to the katana that we made, isn’t that a cause for celebration in itself?”

“It’s a bit of a confusing feeling. As an enchanter, I’m incredibly happy that he is pleased with it, but as a former adventurer, I’d like for him to stay just a little bit weaker than me.”

He was a picky old bastard, that was for sure. Lutz pretended that he hadn’t heard him and redirected his focus to the King’s sword dance.

The sword dance came to a close, and Kassandros sheathed the katana back into its saya, feeling a comfortable fatigue. The word incredible wasn’t nearly enough to describe it. He felt as if the earth, the heavens, and himself had become one. The Iris of the Overlord was still alive inside that katana. No, it could even be said that it was for that very day that the jewel existed in the first place—to be combined with and reborn as that grand katana. The brilliant stone had given birth to a miracle. It was a fusion of light and sheer power, a katana fit for a king. It was the symbol of his authority that he had craved for so long.

There was no applause from the audience, but that was simply because it didn’t feel appropriate given the circumstances. Instead, a knight who was standing at the front knelt in fealty, and then the other knights and soldiers of the federation followed suit, kneeling in unison. They once again swore their undying loyalty to Kassandros, recognizing that he was the true king of the federation.

Maybe they were just caught up in the moment, or perhaps Kassandros had some innate quality that made him a ruler of the masses, but even some soldiers from the kingdom knelt before him.

Whoever held that katana was filled with power and confidence. Anyone who laid eyes on someone so charismatic would be instantly charmed.

It was a sight that would be retold for generations as a divine legend. The excitement of the soldiers, the grim looks of unease on the faces of the kingdom’s elites, the innocent smiles of the three idiots who were just happy to have done a good job... In the crowd that was bustling with such a variety of emotions, Claudia alone was able to calmly observe the actions of a single knight.

The knight who was the first to kneel to Kassandros was the one that the federation had sent to watch over the enchanting process, Gwynn. It was likely true that everyone was left in a state of awe by the King’s display, but was there not something that influenced everyone to express their awe in that manner?

“Oh, scary...scary stuff indeed,” said Claudia as if it didn’t concern her as well.

She didn’t have any intention of speaking to anyone about it. She simply thought about how she could best protect Lutz. Should they get closer to Kassandros, or stay as far away as possible? That was the major question lingering in her mind.

“Long live King Rathbard!”

“Long live King Kassandros!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd roaring behind him, Kassandros headed back to the large tent. King Rathbard and his retainers trailed behind Kassandros, but at that moment, they looked like nothing more than his humble servants. That was how astonishing the demonstration of the katana was.

After receiving a light achievement, the katana that once cursed its wielder to use up every ounce of their own power had metamorphosed into a katana that gave its wielder the strength of a ruler and charmed all those who laid eyes on it. In terms of charming people, it was rather similar to how Tsubaki worked. Although the strength of the katana didn’t seem anywhere as potent as Tsubaki, its area of effect was enormous in comparison. While it didn’t have an effect on those three craftsmen, who hadn’t the slightest interest in war or the authority of a king, or on the nobility of the kingdom, who still held contempt toward the federation, the soldiers of the federation and even some of the more easily swayed soldiers of the kingdom fell directly under the katana’s spell.

It was a katana that boosted the charisma of its wielder. If it were in the hands of an ordinary person, it likely wouldn’t amount to much, but in the hands of a king, the effects were tremendous. Every time that he swung the katana before the eyes of his soldiers or subjects, they would obey the King’s orders and wish from the bottom of their hearts to be of use to him. While it might not have been the most eloquent way to put it, if you were to think of it like a katana that tripled your approval rating just by holding it, it was easy to understand just what a terrifying thing it was.

Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger of the kingdom stared at Kassandros’s back with disdain. Then, he admonished the three craftsmen in his mind.

Those idiots! Nobody told them to go that far!

All they had to do was satisfy the requirement of it being a katana with a five-rune light enchantment, but those guys had gotten all carried away and ended up making something that defied all reason, something that could even be called a divine weapon. Giving something like that to the barbarians wouldn’t do anything but empower them.

Not understanding such a simple thing, those craftsmen were clapping with joy.

You can take those cheers and shove them up your asses, you load of idiots!

The King raised such a grand sword, and the soldiers all knelt before him. Such a sight would surely become legend, word of it spreading throughout the continent. If anything, the federation had no reason not to spread word of it themselves. In that divine legend, the kingdom would be nothing but a mere footnote.

While Beowulf hadn’t been fully charmed by it, he was frustrated by the fact that he was at least influenced to the point where he thought the enemy king looked really cool. After throwing every curse and insult he could think of at the three craftsmen and Kassandros, he was finally able to regain his composure.

The more voices that were singing Kassandros’s praise, the larger the bomb that he was sitting on would grow. For now, Beowulf would just patiently wait for it to go off. A dark and twisted smile spread on his face.

“You three craftsmen, what is the name of this katana?” asked Kassandros cheerfully.

Gerhard stepped forward. “It is named Amaterasu.”

“Ama-terrace-su? That is a strange name, but it doesn’t have a bad ring to it either.”

It was a name that Lutz had heard from his father long ago when he was telling him legends from that distant country to the east. While his memory was a bit fuzzy, he had told Claudia about it as well. Claudia recalled those legends when she was thinking about a name for the katana and gave it the name of Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess.

The people of the federation also had a religion they placed their faith in. To name the katana after a god that was worshiped by people on the other side of a vast ocean was a result of Claudia’s occasionally dark humor.

Seeing an opportune moment, Beowulf stood up straight and puffed out his chest.

All right, it’s about time to put a damper on their festivities.

In a loud voice, Beowulf said, “We are so glad that the katana was to your liking. Well then, what will the federation be giving to our kingdom in return?”

The gift-giving diplomacy had yet to come to an end. The giant jewel, the Iris of the Overlord, had changed its form and been given right back to the federation, so they had yet to give the kingdom anything at all. They had a duty to give something back of equal value to the katana and the expenses accrued through the enchanting process.

“Your Majesty...” Arsames looked at his father with concern.

To be fully prepared in the case of any strange contingencies, they had brought a carriage filled with a variety of treasures. They had beautiful marble statues, gold and silver necklaces that were adorned with the finest jewels, and even a glorious sword that was made of pure silver. Still, they had nothing that could compare to Amaterasu. Kassandros himself had demonstrated to everyone what a miraculous katana it was. After seeing that many soldiers kneeling before the glory of that katana, there was no way that they could argue that it didn’t hold that much value. To do so would be to deny themselves the legend that they had just given birth to.

All were silent. Everyone simply awaited Kassandros’s next word.

“I will give you this land.”

“Huh?” Beowulf’s surprise leaked from his mouth.

Kassandros ignored him completely and looked over to the witness from the empire who had been quietly lurking in the shadows. “Surely there should be no complaints about such an exchange, correct?”

“There have been several cases where castles were exchanged for treasure in the past. If you were to relinquish the fort along with the surrounding land, it would be more than sufficient,” said the witness, looking as tired as ever.

“So says our gracious witness from the empire... What do you say?” Kassandros looked over to Rathbard.

The kingdom had fought for ten long years to claim that land along the border. More than any treasure, wasn’t that what they had truly wanted? They could return, showing some success in their original mission. That would make it easier to deal with any opposition domestically as well.

It was such a delicious offer that you couldn’t help but drool. That was precisely why it was also rather suspicious. It would mean that Kassandros had appraised Amaterasu to be more valuable than that whole territory.

Was it really okay to let Amaterasu fall into his hands? What would result from such a trade? While those questions remained in Rathbard’s busy mind, there was no other choice but to accept the land. The enemy king had served it out to him on a silver platter. If they were to turn down such an offer without good reason, it could even be seen as traitorous.

Rathbard and Beowulf locked eyes and nodded to each other.

“We have no objection to that offer.”

Even before hearing those words, the witness had already begun drafting the necessary documents. The great katana Amaterasu would be given in exchange for the cession of federation land along the border. The terms of the treaty were officially agreed on, and the peace negotiations finally came to an end.

It was still to be seen who the true winner was.

***

The federation began preparations to withdraw. As Kassandros was about to climb into his carriage, a voice called to him from behind.

“Father!” Arsames stormed over toward Kassandros, not even trying to hide his irritation.

He had been taught since he was a child never to address him as “father” in such a public space. He had been taught to control his emotions and never let them show on his face. However, in his rage, Arsames had forgotten all of that.

“Do you really intend to hand over this territory? Have you gone mad?!”

His son had made quite the accusation, but Kassandros just put on a careless smile in return. Seeing Kassandros so calm about the situation only irritated Arsames further.

“We didn’t have any treasure that was of sufficient value, so I gave them the land. That was what this whole war was about, anyway.”

In the first place, they were the ones who came out and said, “We’re going to give you this priceless jewel. If you can’t find something to give us back, we’ll just have to take some land or a hostage in return.” It was a war of culture and diplomacy, one that they started, then proceeded to lose. In that case, Kassandros thought the cession of some land to be a natural consequence.

“Those monkeys...they are going to claim victory in this war, you know?” said Arsames.

“Let them at least satisfy the people of their kingdom. We now have the sun itself in our hands. There is no greater victory than this.”

“Father, this is land that our soldiers have fought and died to protect for a decade. This land has been painted with their blood. Are you to say that there is no value in the blood shed by our valiant soldiers? Can you really throw it all away like a piece of rotten fruit?!” screamed Arsames, his shoulders shaking with rage. There may have even been some tears coming to his eyes, but it was a torrent of emotions that he himself didn’t fully understand.

“There is no value in spilled blood.”

“Father...”

“It holds no value, but it does carry the burden of responsibility.”

Arsames was frozen in place. It held no value? The words of his father swirled around in his mind.

“According to the terms of the treaty, those monkeys from the kingdom won’t be able to lay a finger on us for the next five years. In that time, we are going to strengthen ourselves domestically. We can’t let all of the influential families in our federation keep making a fuss about their right to autonomy forever, now, can we?”

If the kingdom were to try to attack them at any time during the armistice, the empire, which served as a witness to the signing of their peace treaty, would be forced to get involved. Unless their king were very foolish indeed, the kingdom wouldn’t do anything so rash.

After meeting with Rathbard directly, while Kassandros didn’t get the impression that he was some kind of grand hero, he certainly didn’t seem like a half-wit either. He should have been well aware of what purpose the witness from the empire served.

One of the reasons that such pointless skirmishes had continued over the last decade was because of a failure to unite the will of the federation’s people. True unification of their nation was the purpose of projecting the King’s authority. If he could just accomplish that, the federation would grow far stronger than it was at present. For that, Kassandros would give the kingdom as much desolate land as they wanted.

Kassandros climbed into his carriage, a conniving smirk plastered on his lips.

Arsames watched the carriage leave, its wheels kicking up dust as it went. His eyes were completely devoid of emotion.

Out of the sheer desire for that katana, his father, a person he had thought to be a great king, had sold off the land of their proud nation. Arsames couldn’t view that as anything other than a betrayal of the soldiers who had given their lives for the federation. Wasn’t land the foundation that a country was built on? It was his father who had taught him that.

“The dirty traitor...”

That whisper didn’t reach the ears of a single soul. It simply dissipated into the wind.

Chapter 6: The Steel Compass

At Gerhard’s workshop, which had at some point become a place where people always seemed to gather, a small party was held to celebrate the success of the peace talks between the kingdom and the federation. In addition, the master of the workshop himself, Lutz, Claudia, and Patrick were also present. They had wanted to invite Djoser there as well, but he was busy with his duties as a high-ranking knight. He wasn’t a man so idle that he could always be dragged along by the whims of those crazy craftsmen at the drop of a hat.

Wine and a piping hot roast chicken adorned the table, the delightful scent of herbs permeating the air. While Lutz had always proclaimed that he was just fine with some salted fish, the taste of meat was irresistibly delicious.

All of the food before them was a gift from the Count to reward them for their efforts.

“Haaa... God, I’m so glad everything worked out in the end,” said Gerhard with a look of relief.

“Saying that ‘everything worked out in the end’ would imply that all the fires have really been put out. It seems to me like there are plenty of embers remaining. If I might add, it was you guys that spread those embers.” Claudia laughed.

“Not my problem! At the very least, our role in all of this is finished. We can leave the bigwigs to fight out the rest.” Gerhard threw off all responsibility as usual.

In that case alone, Lutz was in agreement. That was the last time he wanted to get caught up in such an annoying ordeal. All of the katana that they had given as collateral had been returned to their rightful owners, as well. There was nothing more that Lutz had to say about the matter.

“That cute little Amaterasu was such a fantastic katana. Really, it was just wonderful. At the time, I really should have knelt down before it!” Patrick’s face was bright red, though it was unclear whether that was from the wine or excitement from his own strange fantasies.

“Patrick, that’s a bit of a dangerous statement to make as a subject of the kingdom, you know?” said Lutz with a forced smile.

But it seemed like Patrick couldn’t be stopped once he got himself going. “I want to be a slave to such true art!”

“Patrick, you crafted part of it, remember?”

At those words, Patrick’s eyes popped wide open. It had been Lutz’s intention to calm him down with that dose of reality, but it looked like he had only fanned the flame.

“To be enslaved by something I created... That delightful inversion, that blissful perversion, I feel like it may give me the inspiration for my next piece!”

“You can find delight in being enslaved?”

“Absolutely. That kind of control or obedience is, of course, awful if it is forced upon you, but if you choose it for yourself, there can be no greater pleasure!” As Patrick continued to speak, the words rolled off his tongue faster and faster, drawing Gerhard’s and Claudia’s attention as well. “That day, when the soldiers all knelt before Kassandros, it surely wasn’t just pure feelings of loyalty that they held in their hearts. They must have also felt a kind of arousal or pleasure. That kind of fealty to someone is nothing but the pinnacle of masochism.”

That man was able to take a sight so tremendous that it seemed to come straight out of the pages of a divine legend and turn it into a scene that came straight out of hell with only a few words. It seemed like Patrick had thought he had said something quite profound, so it was even more annoying.

“Every person alive carries a desire somewhere deep inside of them to be controlled by someone. Humanity is made entirely of filthy pigs, begging to be sat on.”

“Patrick, did someone hurt you? Or is it the entire world that you resent?” said Lutz.

Seeing that Patrick had finally finished his ranting, Claudia put her hand up in the air. “Can we get down to business and talk about money?”

“Are you interested in the reward money, then?” asked Gerhard.

“Honor and glory are as good as dog food to me, you see.”

She phrased it as though to say that it may have been good enough for the dogs of the royal family—namely, the kingdom’s knights—but not for her. She couldn’t help but let her hatred for those knights spill out of her.

“As a reward for bringing the peace talks safely to a close, the royal family has given a total of five thousand gold coins to the house of Count Shander. Out of that, the Count has been gracious enough to give us one thousand of them to split between us.”

As someone who lived outside of the city walls, Lutz struggled to even wrap his head around the value of one thousand gold coins. Even split between the three of them, it was still several hundred gold each. However, there was still one thing that was bothering him.

“So the Count, who simply delegated the work off to us, gets four thousand gold and we only get a thousand even though we did all of the actual work, huh?”

He didn’t have any problem with the actual reward, but the idea that their efforts might be treated lightly just didn’t sit quite right with him.

“That’s just how the world works, Lutzy. In fact, as far as dealings with the nobility go, I’d say that we got quite a generous cut of the profit.” Claudia didn’t look entirely convinced herself, more like she had simply resigned herself to that simple reality.

“Lutz, let me add as well that four thousand gold coins is not that much money for someone in a position of political power,” said Gerhard. “After repairing the walls and roads of the city and sending gifts to nobles you want to keep in good favor with, the money soon goes. Please don’t think of the Count as a man who acts out of greed or a desire to live a life of opulence.”

“Well, if both of you say so...” Lutz decided to drop the issue for the time being.

Seeing Lutz’s reaction, Gerhard gave him a faint smile, expressing his gratitude.

“Okay, now that’s out of the way, let’s talk about something a bit more fun! Rather than thinking about another man’s pockets, we should be focusing on splitting the stack of gold in front of us! Right?” said Claudia.

The three men nodded at each other, agreeing that it was probably best to leave Claudia in charge when it came to matters of finances.

“Here is what I would propose. We could split it evenly in three or, considering Gerhard had the most difficult role this time around, we could split it four hundred, three hundred, three hundred.”

It was true that each of them had spent different amounts on raw material costs, but compared to the several hundred gold coins they would be receiving, it was nothing. Thinking about how they were going to be working together in the future as well, it was clear that fighting over how they split the reward wouldn’t be beneficial for anyone.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m fine with the latter too.”

Patrick and Lutz both agreed. They were both people who didn’t care too much about little things like that. They certainly weren’t the sort to get into a fight with their friends over some gold coins.

The only person who shook their head in disagreement was Gerhard himself. “I want to split it four hundred, four hundred, four hundred.”

The three of them shot Gerhard a confused stare, wondering if he was already drunk. It was Gerhard who had said there were one thousand gold coins.

“Calm down, everyone; I’m not going crazy now. You see, there is something that I would like to ask Lutz to buy from me for two hundred gold coins.” Gerhard gave them a confident smirk. He reached into his bag and dropped what looked like five pebbles onto the table. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be oddly shaped jewels bearing a faint pink glint.

“Gerhard, don’t tell me these are...” Lutz stopped himself before saying the name out loud. He recognized the pink glimmer that they gave off.

They were shards of the Iris of the Overlord. While they were only fragments of the original jewel, the bigger ones were about the size of the tip of a man’s thumb. If you were to cut them into shape, each one of them would amount to a small fortune.

“Aren’t jewels supposed to turn to dust after an enchantment?”

“Ordinarily, yes. I’ll tell you, they really didn’t call it the continent’s peerless treasure without good reason. Even after the enchantment, a few shards of it remained. I simply took it upon myself to clean up after the enchantment. It wouldn’t be proper to hand over such scraps, something that would normally be thrown right away, over to such great and venerable kings after all, would it?”

This geezer’s really gone and done it, hasn’t he?

In short, while everyone was overwhelmed with the anxiety-inducing task of concluding the peace talks, without so much as changing his expression for a moment, that man had stuffed those shards into his pocket.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! Let me just say, I didn’t hold back one bit when it came to the enchantment. I walked an extremely thin line where, if I had put in even the tiniest bit more mana, the katana would have fractured under the strain of it. As a result, a few pieces of the jewel remained.”

“The fact that you weren’t holding back with the enchantment is the one thing I can definitely believe,” said Lutz.

“If possible, I’d like you to believe in me a bit more than that one thing, but I’ll settle for that right now. Anyway, have you all understood that I just happened to come across this little souvenir by chance? The two knights who were sent to observe the process didn’t even say anything about it.”

One of the knights who was sent to watch over everything had been knocked unconscious by Gerhard himself. The other one was completely enamored with Amaterasu’s completed form. There was no way that he was in the right mind to pay attention to what was left on the ritual stand. He could hardly say that he got permission; he just wasn’t told otherwise either.

Well, I guess it’s fine. It’s not like I have any duty to report this to anyone.

As Gerhard was talking about it, Lutz started to change his frame of mind about the whole thing. After being dragged into that whole mess by all those elites, surely they couldn’t have any complaints about Gerhard taking a few pieces of a fancy rock.

“It’s not like mana leaves behind a name, anyway...”

All they would have to do was quickly enchant something with them, and all the evidence would be completely gone.

“Right, let’s get down to business. Lutz, would you be willing to buy these from me for two hundred gold coins?”

“Ah, um, hmmm...”

It was a difficult choice. If it were a simple matter of whether he wanted them or didn’t want them, he definitely wanted them. However, two hundred gold was just too steep a price. Lutz had never spent that much money in his whole life. On the other hand, that two hundred gold would just be coming from the reward that he hadn’t even received yet, meaning that it wouldn’t exactly hurt his wallet directly. It didn’t feel like too much of a loss. Unsure of what to do, Lutz looked over to Claudia.

“Oh, go on, buy it,” she said nonchalantly.

Lutz had thought she was going to say that her spirit as a merchant wouldn’t allow such irresponsible spending, so her response was rather surprising to him.

“What’s wrong, Lutzy? You look like you’ve gotten something stuck up your ass.”

“Are you really okay with it?”

“You’re going to start work on making your own katana after this, right? Or another troublesome order might just come in before you have the chance. Holding on to a treasure worth at least that much value wouldn’t be wasteful at all in my eyes.”

She had a good point. Lutz knew what Claudia was saying was right, but even still, the number two hundred was terrifying enough to make him hesitate.

“Heh heh, Lutzy... Boys are weak to this kind of thing, right?” Claudia wrapped around behind Lutz and whispered to him seductively, her lips touching his ear. “It’ll be your secret weapon.”

“Oh...” Lutz’s shoulders trembled slightly.

“It’ll be your wild card, the ace up your sleeve, your last resort, the thing that you keep at the ready for when a difficult situation arises.”

“I got it, I got it, dear. I’m at my limit here...” After being rattled by Claudia’s continuous assault, stimulating the desires that all men hold in their hearts, Lutz’s wallet fell straight out of his pocket. “Gerhard, let’s go with the split of four hundred, four hundred, two hundred plus those jewels.”

“All right, it’s a deal, then. I’ll bring you the two hundred gold coins sometime in the coming days. In the meantime, I’ll give you these.” Gerhard placed the jewels in a small bag and handed said bag to Lutz. Seeing Lutz fully accept the bag in his hands, Gerhard twisted his lips into a concerning grin. “I guess this makes us partners in crime, huh?” Just for a second, his face looked like that of a demon after tricking someone into signing a contract with them. However, that expression soon melted back into the face of a peaceful old man, and the party went back into full swing.

***

Count Maximillion Shander was in high spirits. His beloved katana had safely returned to him once again, he had managed to leave a good impression on His Majesty the King, and he had also formed strong relations with Marquis Eldenburger, a high-ranking nobleman. While the Count’s domain hadn’t been totally isolated from the other powers in the kingdom, Count Shander had, up until then, maintained broad but shallow relations with other noble houses, so the events of the past couple of months had played out very favorably for him.

The Shander domain had started to gain some notoriety as a producer of fine weapons. The Count had long been called sickly, weak, and unreliable by those around him behind his back, but he had started to notice a difference in how his vassals were looking at him recently. That made him happier than anything.

Ah, to think that the nectar of authority was this incredibly sweet...

It was the first time in his life that he had been truly happy to be the head of his house.

As a result of this, the role of Gerhard, who had become a diplomatic advisor on all matters revolving around weapons, grew more paramount, and the Count began to call on him more frequently. It even became the norm to see Gerhard sitting directly beside the Count at all of his meetings.

From Gerhard’s perspective, while it was a wonderful thing that the Count placed that much trust in him, he found it a bit annoying if he was being entirely honest. The fact that the Count recognized that the increased notoriety of the Shander domain was due to the efforts of its craftsmen displayed his strength as a leader. However, the fact that he seemed ignorant of how all of the jealous stares of the Count’s vassals now pointed directly at Gerhard was a display of his weak points.

Gerhard had a rather peculiar resume, being a former adventurer turned enchanter. It wasn’t like his family had been serving under the house of Shander for generations either. As Gerhard was a student of history, he knew exactly what waited at the end of the road for someone who had been promoted to a position of such importance far too quickly, and that thought was not a calming one.

That day, Gerhard had once again been called to the Count’s court.

“We’ve received a request from Marquis Eldenburger for a katana, you see...” Maximillion seemed delighted that such an influential nobleman would rely on him.

However, Gerhard shook his head with a dark expression. “Your Grace, I have something that I would like to say.”

“Wh-What?” Maximillion had expected Gerhard to immediately agree to the request, so he was taken aback by his response.

“Your Grace, after we made the katana that you requested, the Kikokuto, things got rather busy, so I believe it may have been forgotten, but I am currently supposed to be on a leave of absence from my responsibilities, one that you had previously agreed to.”

“Aaah...” Maximillion remembered. He did agree to that, didn’t he? At the time, he didn’t really think of it as anything other than a pause on Gerhard’s responsibility to enchant weapons to give as rewards for the hero, Ricardo. “But, you see, Gerhard...right now is the time that I need you the most. While we are still riding the momentum from those peace talks, before this miraculous boom in the weapons market subsides, I want to develop closer and deeper bonds with other major noble houses and His Majesty the King.”

“More than such trifling matters, there is something that you must make a decision on right away.”

“Trifling matters, you say?!”

How could Gerhard have so easily dismissed something that concerned the future of the domain?

“You have to decide on how Lutz should be treated.”

“Hmm?” Maximillion took a second to remember who that was.

That was right, the skilled katana smith went by that name, didn’t he? Maximillion had at least seen Lutz’s face before when they met with the Princess, but at that time, he seemed to have come up with an idea and suddenly run off somewhere, so Maximillion didn’t have the chance to speak with him directly. As Gerhard and Djoser had both vouched for him, he didn’t receive any punishment, but that was about all he remembered Lutz for.

“And what about this Lutz?” Maximillion asked sternly. He couldn’t imagine the treatment of one craftsman taking precedence over their future in domestic politics.

“Currently, he is not a vassal of the Shander house. As he lives outside the city walls, he doesn’t even hold citizenship here. If someone else were to offer him a better deal, there is a chance that he would go off to work for them instead. It’s a rather precarious position we are in at the moment.”

“Are you saying that he would betray me?!”

“That wouldn’t even amount to betrayal. He isn’t a vassal of this domain, after all.”

While Maximillion was growing furious, Gerhard gave a plain and levelheaded response. Seeing this, Maximillion realized that it was ridiculous to get himself so worked up over the issue and calmed himself down.

It was true that Maximillion had long seen the fact that Lutz was an unlicensed smith who lived outside of the walls as a problem they would have to address. However, abiding by the Guild’s system, there could only be a select number of blacksmiths who were recognized as masters. Whether he were to compel the Guild to increase that number or ask a current master to step down in favor of Lutz, he could predict that there would be a great deal of pushback.

However, if they were to make him the personal blacksmith of the Shander house, which worked outside of the Guild’s system, Lutz would still need to have produced considerable results that would convince anyone that he was worthy of the position. Considering that he had just proven himself during the negotiation of the peace treaty, it was the opportune moment.

If they were to miss their chance, it was possible that Lutz would be poached by the King, the Marquis, or even the federation. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone as clever as Prince Arsames to already be making preparations toward that end, but, perhaps due to his dissatisfaction over the result of the peace talks, he was slow to make a move.

It was all very convenient for Gerhard indeed.

“So, you would suggest that I make him the personal blacksmith of the Shander house? That’s what you are telling me, right?”

“Yes, and I suggest that you not call him here as a dog, but invite him here as a venerable sage. If you were to order a new house and workshop to be built for him here, he would surely feel indebted to you and happily remain in this domain.”

After hearing Gerhard’s proposal, one of the advisors spoke out against him. “Surely there is no need to go that far for a single lowly craftsman. While it may be rude of me to say, I can’t see this as anything other than you trying to increase the number of pawns at your disposal, Gerhard.”

The Count had already been placing great faith in Gerhard as of late. If the number of people on Gerhard’s side were to increase any further, they could create a faction of craftsmen. That couldn’t be tolerated.

“That’s right!”

“I concur.”

The other low-ranking nobles in attendance chimed in one by one, staring daggers at Gerhard.

“You fools lack a sense of danger or urgency!” Gerhard, the old warrior, let out a booming voice that denied everyone present the luxury of forgetting his experience as an adventurer.

The room returned to a chilling silence. A few months ago, Maximillion likely would have lost consciousness due to the immense pressure, but holding tightly to his beloved katana, he somehow managed to remain composed.

“You all weren’t there to see all of those soldiers kneeling before the barbarian king, that terrifying sight; that’s why you can so carelessly continue your stupid game of musical chairs. There is no way those barbarians haven’t caught onto how valuable Lutz really is. Even at this very moment, they may be starting to take action!”

“He’s just a blacksmith! We have as many replacements for him as we—”

“If you’re so sure about that, bring me someone who could replace him right this instant. If they prove themselves to be more capable than Lutz, I’ll apologize to you by cutting open my stomach right here!”

“Well, that kind of thing isn’t in my purview, you see... I believe that would be more of your job to—”

“You bastard, I’ll kill you!”

“Aaaahh!”

Had that idiot not even noticed what a contradiction it was to have Gerhard seek out someone to rebut his own argument? As Gerhard had thought, all of them were just pests that had no real skills outside of complaining. They complained without thought or reason, and because the only things that came out of their mouths were baseless complaints, they didn’t even seem to understand what they were saying themselves.

Djoser, along with the other knights who were assigned as guards, tried to put out Gerhard’s fiery rage. They didn’t try to grab hold of him directly but surrounded him from a short distance.

All Djoser said was “Let’s just calm down for a moment, okay?” but as it was Gerhard’s favorite and only apprentice who said it, he couldn’t just ignore him. For that reason alone, the gorilla that had snuck into the castle walls managed to quell his own anger.

“Your Grace.” After regaining his human civility, Gerhard once again turned to Maximillion. “I beg of you, allow me to invite Lutz to become the personal blacksmith to the house of Shander. If you give me your permission, I promise that I will convince him to remain in our domain.”

“Can you do it, Gerhard?”

“Yes, we are close enough to have even shared secrets. It was nothing to the extent that I could blackmail him, of course, but he should think that it would be bothersome to make an enemy of me, as well.”

“Secrets, you say?”

“Heh heh... It would be best not to ask.”

Intimidated by Gerhard’s unnerving smile, Maximillion decided it best not to press any further. “I understand. I shall welcome the katana smith Lutz under the employment of the Shander house. We will build a new workshop for him as well. Is there anything else you would request? Ah, yes, what about that ornamentalist, Patrick?”

“All things considered, it may be prudent to employ him directly, too, as opposed to his current status as a craftsman who is allowed to come and go from the castle. He already has a workshop as well, so it would only be necessary to supply him with a subsidy.”

“And there goes more money flying out the window...”

“I don’t see it as an issue; I believe that you have more than enough at the moment, am I right?”

“Are you still holding a grudge about how the reward money was split?”

“Just a little bit.”

The two of them gave each other a friendly smile. From the perspective of the other advisors, such a scene only fueled their jealousy further.

***

In the evening, after the meeting had finished, Gerhard visited Maximillion’s private quarters.

“Your Grace, please hold some events where you can interact with your other vassals without me present, perhaps a banquet or something of the sort.”

The malice that Gerhard had felt from the other vassals in that meeting exceeded his expectations. It would be fine if that was directed at Gerhard alone, but if that started to lead to a lack of faith in the Count’s abilities as a leader, that would be a grave issue.

No matter how talentless they are, they are still necessary personnel for the management of the domain.

They had served under the Shander house for many years and at least had the ability to read, write, and do basic arithmetic. It would be shortsighted to say that they could be easily replaced, regardless of whether Gerhard liked them or not.

“You mean to say that I am on the verge of losing their confidence, am I right?”

“Yes. Therefore, you must let them speak their minds to you. Whether my proposal goes through in the end or not, just listening to the opinions of those in descent has a tendency to assuage their anxiety.”

“I believe it would turn into nothing but a competition to see who could smear more dirt onto your face, Gerhard. What would you do if I were to believe their slander?”

“I would accept your judgment.”

The Count would distance himself from the three craftsmen and hire some new craftsmen in their place. As a result, the Shander domain would lose its chance to be known as a famous producer of fine weapons. Even still, Gerhard would accept that as the will of the Count. No matter how far the Shander domain fell, it would be of no concern to those who were driven out of it. That was what Gerhard’s position on the matter boiled down to.

Gerhard, you are a scary man indeed. You ask your lord to carry the burden of decision and the responsibility for those decisions at all times.

Gerhard was loyal, but he would soon throw his loyalty away if he deemed his lord unworthy of it. Maximillion wondered whether he would ever be able to truly control such a man’s actions. He knew that if he failed to do so, it might even spell his end.

“Very well, I will take it into consideration.”

Hearing Maximillion’s response, Gerhard bowed deeply and left the room behind him.

Maximillion stared at the closed door. “I really can’t afford to let him go, can I?” he whispered under his breath.

Surely Gerhard just wanted to live out his life as an enchanter, but Maximillion couldn’t have him leaving his role as an advisor either.

***

“Gerhard might come by sometime in the next few days, don’t you think?” said Claudia as she was doing maintenance on her aikuchi.

Claudia had learned a great deal from Lutz and was now capable of doing that kind of basic maintenance. It also meant that she could freely remove the tsuka and gaze at Love Letter’s nakago whenever she wanted, which was a constant source of unrest for Lutz.

Putting that aside, there was something strange about what Claudia had said, saying that he might come, and in a vague frame of time, like in the next few days. It wasn’t like they had made any specific promises, though.

Claudia saw Lutz’s look of confusion and began speaking to him as a teacher would try to explain something to a slow-witted student. “I’d bet that Gerhard is working his ass off right now trying to convince the Count to pick you up as the personal katana smith to the house of Shander. If he doesn’t, then other influential houses might try to scout you. They have to get here first and lick you all over so no one else will want to eat you up.”

“Is that how these things work?”

“Lutzy, surely you’re not oblivious to how valuable an asset you are. If you take humility too far, it just turns into a form of self-resentment, you know?”

“If I were to say that I’m really nothing special after having a katana of mine play such a major role in that peace treaty, then I’d be an idiot. I have a fair amount of confidence in my abilities, maybe even enough to say that I’m the best on this continent.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of confidence! Honestly, more than I was expecting.”

“Even though I vaguely understand all of that, it just doesn’t feel real to me. It’s not like I was invited to the palace to be commended for my services or anything.”

“If that’s what you’re looking for, you already have been commended for your work.”

“Huh?” Lutz couldn’t get his head around what Claudia was saying. They had gone straight back to the Shander domain with Gerhard and everyone right after the signing ceremony came to a close.

“It seems that Count Shander and Marquis Eldenburger were called to the palace and were praised by His Majesty the King himself. That was likely when they received the gold coins as a reward as well.”

“Wait, but we were the ones who made Amaterasu. Not only were me, Gerhard, and Patrick not invited to the palace, we weren’t even made aware that Count Shander and Marquis Eldenburger were going there in our place.”

“To the likes of royalty and noblemen, craftsmen are no more than tools. They likely think that the ones to be praised aren’t the tools, but the owners of those tools. Ha ha...” Claudia let out a dry laugh.

Lutz put on an irritated scowl. That was just how the world around them worked. However, there was a limit to what those words could convince him of. More than being upset about being treated as a tool or not being invited to the place, he was upset at how the Count and the Marquis were essentially taking credit for having created Amaterasu. It was like they were scratching out the inscription on the nakago and writing in their own names.

Claudia stood up, then wrapped behind Lutz and put her hand on his cheek. “There’s no point in complaining about the rotten nature and psychology of the noble elite. All you should be thinking about is how to use them to our own advantage.”

“You might be right about that.”

“While there may be people who see you as an enemy, you have plenty of allies too. Please don’t forget that.” Claudia kissed Lutz on the cheek and sat back in the chair in front of him, playing with her long hair to hide her embarrassment.

Lutz was at a loss for words. He looked all around the room, not knowing where to rest his eyes.

“Hey, Lutzy. What would you do if someone like the Marquis, the King, or even the federation came to scout you before Gerhard did?”

“I’d at least have to hear them out. After that, it would be up to the terms of the agreement.”

If at all possible, Lutz wanted to remain in the Shander domain. After all, he didn’t want to leave such talented craftsmen as Gerhard and Patrick behind. However, his and Claudia’s safety had to take top priority.

“Personally, I think that it would be best to turn down any offers from the federation.” Claudia’s expression grew darker. “While I don’t exactly have a clear reason to believe so, I just get the feeling that the federation still has one last troublesome card up their sleeves. Whether the embers you three spread with Amaterasu will bring that to light or set fire to the entire house, I’m not entirely sure.”

There was a king who had obtained great power but seemed to be in a state of fervor over it. There was an intelligent prince who seemed displeased with the cession of federation land. On top of that, some knights were working behind the scenes. Nothing in the world was more unpredictable than the hearts of men.

“Okay, I got it. We’ll turn down any offers from the federation. But if something happens with the federation, the nobles of the kingdom likely won’t be able to stay completely out of it either.”

“There is no such thing as paradise, I’m afraid. While we’re at it, shall we just run away together to some unknown land?”

It was a proposal that Lutz seriously considered for a moment, but then he thought otherwise. He didn’t want to force the harsh life of a vagrant onto the woman he loved for his own selfish purposes. He couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario that awaited them at the end of that road, Lutz drinking cheap booze while Claudia had to sell her body for them to survive. Such a horrid image popped into his head.

No, never... Compared to that, getting dragged into a political war and dying would be a hundred times better. That ass is mine. I’ll die before I let another man touch it.

He would get them under the protection of a noble house and make sure to use them to the best of his ability. Lutz decided on the path they would follow purely out of jealousy over a figment of his imagination.

***

The following day, when the sun reached its highest point in the sky, a knock came at the door.

“Lutz, are you in?”

As they had anticipated, it was Gerhard’s voice.

“So, have you decided?”

“It’ll still depend on the exact terms, but yeah.”

Claudia and Lutz exchanged an affirming nod, then unlatched the door to greet Gerhard.

“Oh, hello there, Gerhard. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“You have, have you? In that case, you must also know why I’ve come.” As Gerhard had been trying to think of how to broach the subject with them the whole way there, he was half relieved and half deflated by the fact all of that thinking had been done in vain. “I’d like to welcome Lutz as the personal blacksmith to the Count.”

“And what would be the conditions of this agreement?” asked Claudia. “You know what, let’s stop with all the troublesome pleasantries. As you can see, we are currently living in a hut outside the city walls. Surely, you wouldn’t propose things to stay as they are now, am I right?”

Lutz decided it was probably best to leave the negotiating to Claudia, so he kept his mouth shut and watched.

“We are currently in the process of building a three-story workshop with living spaces for you. The top floor would be for the master and his wife, and the second floor would be set up for around ten apprentices to stay. That is, if you packed it pretty tight. Then, the first floor would be the workshop and kitchen, with the well being only a thirty-second walk away. If you overlook the only downside of it being on the edge of the city, it’s a perfect property for you.”

As craftsmen who relied on the use of fire posed a higher risk of starting building fires, they were generally required to be on the outskirts, away from the city center. The place where their new house was being built was often called the town of craftsmen for this reason.

“Is there anything more that you would request?”

“We’ll need a stable for our donkey on the first floor. It will need to be big enough for guests to be able to tie up their donkeys or horses as well. The kitchen and the workshop don’t need to be that big, anyway.”

“All right, I’ll let them know. Although considering you are okay with a smaller space for the workshop, does that mean that you guys don’t intend to take on apprentices?”

“At least for the time being, that isn’t something that we are thinking about. You’re pretty much the same, aren’t you, Gerhard?” Lutz asked with the utmost disinterest.

Gerhard couldn’t do anything but nod in response. He had worked alone for a very long time as well. Even though he currently had an apprentice, it was just the one. They said that a master had only really earned their title once they had raised competent apprentices, but Gerhard just couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t have any interest in how he was viewed by the wider world.

“Honestly, I don’t know how Patrick does it.”

Out of the three craftsmen, it was only Patrick who had a spacious workshop with a large number of apprentices. While neither of them wanted to admit it, that pervert was probably the one who was contributing the most to society.

“He must not mind getting along with others, I suppose,” said Claudia.

“Don’t people usually become craftsmen so they don’t have to worry about getting along with people?”

“Gerhard, I believe that’s just your own bias speaking.”

“Either way, I don’t think that I’m wrong either...” Gerhard whispered, his face a mask of absolute, compelling gravity.

“By the way, what’s the difference between being a craftsman under a noble house’s employment and just a normal craftsman?” asked Lutz. Come to think of it, he had yet to ask about that, even though it was the most important part.

“The basics of the job won’t be anything different from what you’re doing now. You’re free to conduct business as you please. However, orders from the Count would take priority over any other projects, even if you were right in the middle of something else.”

“That sounds a bit—”

“Lutzy, changing around the order of your projects doesn’t equate to neglecting your responsibilities to other clients,” Claudia added. “Simply as a term of employment, you will just always have to treat the Count’s orders as if they came in first. If it really bothers you, you can just let any other potential clients know that the expected completion date for some projects may be delayed for that reason.”

“You know... Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Lutz, convinced by Claudia’s explanation, gave her a nod.

It had always seemed that Lutz had a strong sense of duty and an aversion to giving any one person preferential treatment. For the sake of a prior job worth only one silver, he would throw away a job worth two hundred gold. That seemed to be his interpretation of how a craftsman should be. He had been like that when Gerhard first met him at the lumberjacks’ settlement. It was a disposition that Gerhard personally found incredibly favorable for a craftsman, but at the same time, he feared that it would at some point cause friction between him and the noble class.

“With that settled, we would like to officially agree to the proposal of Lutz working under Count Shander as a personal blacksmith.”

Lutz and Claudia both bowed their heads.

Seeing that, Gerhard was pulled out of his thoughts and back to the present. “You have my gratitude. With that, I can deliver good news to the Count. Your house should be ready in around two weeks’ time. I’ll be back to let you know when everything is finished.”

“Two weeks? That’s awfully fast.”

“Well, it isn’t necessarily being built from the ground up. They are renovating an existing structure to fit your needs, so it shouldn’t take too long.” After saying that, Gerhard left Lutz’s workshop behind him.

The thing that Gerhard was most grateful for was the fact that if those two were to move inside the city walls, he wouldn’t have to follow that long road every time he had to speak to them.

Two days later, a messenger from the Marquis came by Lutz’s workshop. Five days after that, another messenger came from a noble who was so high-ranking that apparently they felt there was no need to even give their name. They rejected both of their offers, giving the reason that they were already under the Count’s employment. The latter of the two messengers was almost certainly from someone in the royal family, but pretending not to notice that was their way of at least showing some kindness.

In the end, no one ever did come from the federation. Lutz and Claudia wondered if they were really the sort to give up on something so easily, but they couldn’t read any more than that into their actions.

***

Lutz, Claudia, and their little donkey officially made the move to their new house within the city walls. They had moved everything that they could from Lutz’s workshop, but things that couldn’t be moved, such as the forge itself, had to be reconstructed there. With that, it was finally an operational workshop for a katana smith.

“All right then, shall I make something up quick to get accustomed to the new forge?” Looking around his new workshop, Lutz was in high spirits. The thing that he was most happy about was the fact that his creative spirit, which had been wrung dry from the whole ordeal of creating that crazy five-rune light magic enchanted katana, Amaterasu, had finally returned to him.

Yes, his creative spirit. It was enough to bring tears to a craftsman’s eyes. Without it, a craftsman could do nothing, and it wasn’t an easy thing to replenish once it was used up either. At times when there was a mountain of work to do, but you didn’t have the creative spirit to accomplish it, there was nothing to do but take the seemingly contradictory action of taking a break and getting a change of scenery.

What a fantastic thing it was to feel motivated. There seemed to be a large proportion of artists who chose to move frequently. Lutz was starting to understand how they must have felt. If a change in your environment was enough to replenish your creative spirit, then it was a small price to pay. He had once thought that moving would just be a pain in the ass, that he only needed a space that met the bare minimum requirements for a katana smith’s workshop, but with his new spacious workshop spread out before him, he realized that such assumptions could easily be swayed.

They used several of the rooms on the second floor for storage. Lutz also made sure to check how sturdy the bed in their room was. It didn’t seem like it would pose any issues.

In addition, they would receive an agreed-upon amount of iron and charcoal every month from the Count. Lutz finally understood why everyone seemed to want to get themselves under the employment of a noble house. If they found that it wasn’t enough material, they could just add more to next month’s order.

“This time around, maybe I’ll just make something relying totally on muscle memory, without thinking about a theme for it or anything. Folding the steel three times should be enough.”

He struck the hot steel with his hammer to remove impurities. When the steel was hammered flat, he folded it and hammered it out again. It was a process that was absolutely necessary for forging katana, and the more you did it, the purer the steel would be. However, thinking purely about practicality, three times was more than enough.

As he was just testing out how it felt to use the new workshop, there wasn’t any need to go all out. It would even be fine if he ended up producing a piece of scrap metal. Lutz found that it was when he was in that exact state of mind that the piece he was working on never turned out too badly.

Lutz closed all of the windows and shutters except for one, concentrating all of the light in the room to a single place, and he closely examined the finished blade. It wasn’t too heavy, nor was it too light. The hamon proudly displayed itself in bold waves along the length of the blade. Lutz had no complaints about the sharpness of it either.

It was still a bit lackluster when compared to first-class katana like the Kikokuto or Amaterasu, but Lutz was at least happy in saying that it was about halfway to hitting that same mark. It couldn’t be used as a gift between two countries, but it was more than enough to serve as an offering to a noble.

It wasn’t something so grand that it was worth getting Patrick to work on it, so Lutz took it upon himself to make the saya and tsuka himself for the first time in a little while. Of course, he painted them the usual glossy black.

That just left the question of what to name it, but perhaps it didn’t even really need a name at all.

“I’m baaack,” said Claudia, drawing out her voice. “Well, hey there, Lutzy. You weren’t sobbing in my absence, were you?”

“I stayed back and watched the fort like a good boy; aren’t you proud of me?”

After they shared a laugh together, Claudia fixed her eyes on the katana on the workstand. “Oh, it’s finished already? Mind if I take a look?”

“Go ahead. The mekugi is in there tight, so you can give it a swing if you want to.”

Claudia checked all over the blade with her trained eyes as a merchant. The cutting edge, the beauty of it, the value of that beauty, it all swirled around in her mind until she fully calculated a price.

“It’s not bad...”

“Yeah, that’s about the reaction I was expecting.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it really isn’t bad at all. It’s just that recently I’ve seen katana after katana that were so amazing that they seemed to defy all logic and reason, so I feel like my senses for this kind of thing have been skewed. I think this really is a good katana.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I think that my perception of these things has been affected a bit too.”

It wasn’t anything special, but it was a katana that was easy to use. What was wrong with that? If anything, being of high quality while not drawing too much attention to itself was perhaps the ideal form of a katana.

“People who aren’t used to seeing katana would be drooling all over this, opening their wallets wide for a chance to buy it.”

“You’d give it that high of an appraisal?”

“Lutzy, would you leave this one with me? I’ll guarantee that I can sell it for five...no, eight gold coins.”

“Is it really worth that much?”

If a katana was made on the request of a noble, then properly ornamented and enchanted, Lutz knew that there was no limit to what it could be sold for. However, the idea of selling something for eight gold coins to ordinary people or merchants was rather surprising. Before Lutz started living with Claudia and before he met Gerhard, he couldn’t sell a single katana no matter how many he made, so he didn’t have a good sense of what they could be worth.

“Right now, there seems to be a bit of a boom in the weapons market, you see. Everyone is starting to pick up on their value as a gift. Considering there are plenty of rumors about katana going around at the moment, they should still be happy to buy them for a bit over the usual market price.”

Claudia had once been treated as a criminal, having her house and her rights as a citizen stripped from her, meaning that she could no longer openly sell her goods inside the city walls as a merchant. Now, she had been able to return to the city with her full citizenship reinstated by the approval of the Count. Not only that, she had returned as the wife of a blacksmith under the Count’s employment. There were far more business opportunities open to her. She could even open up her own shop if she wanted to.

The reason that she had been out that day was to drop by the Merchants Guild and give them her regards.

“There’s that much demand for katana right now?” Lutz looked like he still wasn’t quite following what Claudia had to say.

“From merchants searching for something to give as an offering down to adventurers who want to become more popular with the ladies, everyone is looking for one right now.”

“They’d want a katana just for that?”

“For about half of all adventurers, wanting to impress the ladies is the whole reason that they signed up with the Adventurers Guild to begin with. I’d venture to say that Ricardo falls squarely into that category, as well.”

“If that’s the case, I can’t help but feel like I’ve done him wrong...”

“Well, he seems happy enough, so I’d say it turned out okay!”

Ricardo had fallen completely in love with the hallucination that was projected from that bewitching katana, but Claudia affirmed that as simply one of countless ways to live one’s life.

“All right, dear, I’ll leave this one with you. Sell it however you like.”

“Have you engraved your name on the nakago? A high-quality katana with the mark of the personal blacksmith to the Count should sell for even more.”

“I think I’ll leave my name off of this one. It’s still not exactly the sort of finished product that I can proudly claim to be my work. It’s a bit hard for me to appraise its value.”

Claudia gave him a nod and drew the blade from its saya. It really wasn’t a bad katana.

“Oh, by the way, there is just one thing that’s been bothering me a bit,” said Lutz. “We’re supposed to be starting our new life here with me being the personal blacksmith to the Count, but we have yet to even formally meet with the Count, nor have we received any orders from him. I imagine that Gerhard will come speak to us if there is anything he wants us to do, but still...”

“If you’re looking for the Count, he’s off in the royal capital at the moment. It looks like he’s busy trying to pick the fleas out of the kingdom’s elite.”

It was quite a harsh way of phrasing it, but it invoked a perfectly accurate image, so Lutz had no complaints.

“Assuming that he’ll want to ride the wave of this weapons boom, I’m sure that the Count has taken Gerhard along as well. If anything comes up, it would be good to have someone who is knowledgeable about the topic with him.”

“It’s true that we’ve gotten into trouble before because someone chose not to bring along an expert. I wonder just who we should be blaming for getting stuck with having to hand a katana with a five-rune light enchantment over to the federation.”

Who was really at fault? Was it Marquis Eldenburger for not thinking the deal through? Was it Lutz, who forged the katana? Was it Djoser, who suggested that they use the Iris of the Overlord? Or was it Gerhard, who actually pulled the enchantment off? Going back even further, could they place the blame on the idiots who started that war to begin with?

“I’m not sure who really is to blame, but I’m pretty sure I know who they’ll try to make a scapegoat if things go wrong.” Claudia was laughing, but her eyes told a different story. “I think it would be wise to always keep the idea of running far away together on the table as a viable option. For now, let’s just keep that eventuality in the back of our minds.”

“I’ll do my best to ensure that it doesn’t come to that.”

Claudia wasn’t sure why Lutz’s expression turned so dark at the mention of that. Meanwhile, Lutz also found it difficult to explain that it was just the result of something his overactive imagination had shown him in the past.

“Forget about it, it’s nothing. In short, we just have to make sure we get along with everyone, right?”

“Hmmm... Nothing, you say?” Claudia still didn’t quite understand, but she figured it wasn’t worth pursuing any further. It didn’t seem like Lutz was too keen to talk about it anyway, so she decided to cut off the topic there. “Anyway, instead of chatting in a place like this, let’s have something to eat. It’s just some trimmings, but I bought meat while I was out. Sometime soon, I’d like to make something special to celebrate your promotion too.” Claudia headed over to the kitchen, the katana still in hand.

Lutz remained deep in thought as he watched her ass sway side to side as she went.

We’ve just started this new life for ourselves. Instead of thinking about all of the things that could go wrong, we should think about some of the brighter opportunities for our future too.

Lutz stood up with reaffirmed conviction. He had warm soup with meat in it waiting for him. For the time being, that was what he should be thinking about.

The day after, the katana was sold, having a considerable impact on the course of its new owner’s future.

***

“Oh... So, you can’t make a katana?” the merchant mumbled with a look of utter disappointment.

Not this again... It’s really starting to get old.

The blacksmith, Oliver, did his very best to hide his irritation. “I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid we just don’t deal in katana.” If Oliver was being completely honest with himself, he wished that they would just hurry up and leave. However, it was a part of the job to bow his head, even if he had absolutely no desire to do so. After scraping and clawing his way up to the station of master smith, he understood that well, but everything had its limits.

Without so much as a “have a nice day” or a “I’ll come back sometime soon,” the merchant went on his way.

It was a good thing that Oliver didn’t have a sword or hammer in his hand at the time. He very well might have followed behind the merchant and cracked his fat head open like an egg.

“What’s so special about katana, huh? They’re all just a bunch of idiots following the latest fashion.”

Recently, that sort of thing had become a regular occurrence. The owners of various reputable stores had personally come down to Oliver’s workshop. That was all well and good. The trouble was that every last one of them asked for a katana.

There was a peace treaty signed between the federation and the kingdom, and a peculiar type of weapon called a katana was given as an offering at its signing. Preempting a boom in the weapons market, merchants were going around everywhere, trying to get their hands on a katana. But it wasn’t as though those merchants were present at those peace talks, so a good half of them didn’t even have the slightest clue as to what a katana was.

Because of that, when you walked around the market in town, you could see people trying to sell curved swords or swords with excessive ornamentation as katana. Even crazier? People were actually buying them. With everyone trying to get a stranglehold on the market, there were no rules, no holds barred.

“Katana this, katana that... I’ve had enough of it all! If people are looking for something with a two-handed grip, they should just go for a bastard sword, something that holds its tradition in our great nation! We have those in spades!” As Oliver yelled, he took up a sword he had displayed on the wall. It was sturdy and had a particular heft to it that felt good in his hands. It was his masterpiece. Gripping the hilt tightly, he finally managed to calm himself down.

Don’t worry, Oliver, you’re a genius. The world around you just hasn’t recognized it yet.

When would the wider world finally wake up to Oliver’s brilliance? That was the real question.

Borbus, who was lauded as the greatest blacksmith in town, had died of a heart attack. In Oliver’s honest opinion, Borbus was a man who had at some point forgotten what it meant to dedicate himself to the craft, but Oliver heard that at the very end, he drew his last breath before the forge with a hammer gripped firmly in his hands. Even if Oliver didn’t approve of the way Borbus lived, he had nothing but respect for the way he died. He was nearly brought to tears by the honor and dedication to the craft. That was how a blacksmith’s life was supposed to come to its end.

With Borbus’s passing, though, Oliver was sure that it would be he who was chosen as the next blacksmith and, by extension, who would be allowed to freely do business within the Count’s castle. He excitedly awaited a messenger to come from the Count, but no such messenger ever came to his doorstep.

When Oliver asked a low-ranking knight whom he was acquainted with about the situation, he said that the Count had stopped giving out weapons as rewards for his retainers. Count Shander was still putting out orders for horseshoes or weapons for his soldiers, splitting the jobs between the various blacksmiths of the city, but he was no longer asking for such specialty orders as he had before.

Even though my weapons are this incredible, why does no one seem to recognize it? What am I missing?

As Oliver was deep in thought, staring at the glimmering blade, a knock came at the door and one of his apprentices walked in.

“Master, there’s a customer here to see you.”

“You sack of shit, can’t you see I’m trying to think here?! Interrupt me again and your ass is mine!”

Oliver was being unfair to his apprentice, but he had become so used to it by then that he just brushed off his master’s abuse like it was nothing.

“But, you see, the client is...”

The name that next came out of the apprentice’s mouth sent Oliver jumping out of his seat. It was an influential merchant to whom they had been indebted since the time of his predecessor. It didn’t matter if anyone else ever fully understood Oliver as long as that one man did. He was the only patron they needed.

Feeling uplifted with joy, Oliver ran over to the reception room. There was an ominous chill running down the back of his neck, but he chose to ignore it, shoving that feeling into a deep, dark corner of his heart.

“Lawrence, sir, terribly sorry to keep you waiting.” Entering the reception room, Oliver was met with an elegantly dressed gentleman with a peaceful smile spread across his face, resting in one of the chairs.

“Ah, Oliver, glad to see that you are looking well.”

“Well, I can’t very well put on a sour face in front of you, sir, now can I?”

Lawrence had also been the one who recommended Oliver’s promotion to master smith. Oliver owed everything to him.

“So, what brings you to our workshop today?”

Every time this man has walked through our doors, my life has always changed for the better in some way or another. This time won’t be an exception, I’m sure of it. He has come to invite me to stand on a new and grander stage.

Oliver awaited Lawrence’s words with bated breath. Anticipation and worry swirled around in his chest in a wild dance.

“You see, I’ve been looking for this thing that they call a katana,” said Lawrence.

Oliver’s mind went completely blank. Lawrence wanted a katana too? The outstretched hand of his benefactor struck into his heart like a knife and twisted around inside of him.

Lawrence, sir, I’ve forged a wonderful blade. Lawrence, sir, if it were for your sake, I wouldn’t mind giving it to you. Lawrence... Lawrence, sir.

All of the words Oliver had prepared were now useless. It was almost laughable.

Still, even if it meant dragging his own face through the mud, Oliver didn’t want to betray Lawrence’s expectations. Oliver’s benefactor had come to him with that request—he was putting his faith in him. That alone was undeniable.

“If you would be so kind as to come back in one wee...no, one month, I will be sure to have a katana ready for you, sir.”

Lawrence’s face lit up in surprise. It seemed that he had come there with the expectation that it likely wouldn’t be possible. But soon, his face settled into a look of pure delight and he gave Oliver a nod. “I expected nothing less of you! I’m very glad that I decided to consult you about this matter. You’ve given me something truly wonderful to look forward to next month.” Lawrence gave Oliver a firm handshake.

Oliver was also glad that he was able to please the man he owed so much to, but he was petrified at the same time. If he wasn’t able to prepare a katana in time, he would be letting Lawrence down. To make matters worse, he didn’t have the faintest clue where he should even start looking for katana.

“Leave it to me. Ha ha...ha.” A withered smile spread across Oliver’s lips.

The only thing that gave him hope was the fact that he had stopped himself from saying he could prepare it in one week, buying himself a full month instead.

Oliver spent the best part of the next five days with his head held in his hands on the floor of his room.

Clutching at straws, he paid a visit to the market in town and asked around. Unfortunately, the only answers he got were from people who either didn’t know or merely pretended to know.

While Oliver was already rather worked up over the whole situation, some guy tried to sell him a curved sword, claiming it to be a katana. Oliver snapped and they ended up in a fight, which was eventually broken up by some knights. He ended up spending three precious days in a jail cell, eating horrible-smelling slop.

If it hadn’t been for the Count’s policy of protecting the craftsmen in his domain, there was a strong chance that he would have been sent to toil in the mines. The fact that he was at least able to avoid that fate was a silver lining.

The only hope that Oliver had left was a Guild meeting that was going to be held one week from then. He would just have to ask everyone there. However, considering the incredible market demand for katana at that time, he wasn’t sure whether the other masters would so easily hand over any information regarding them.

What would Oliver need? Money, most likely.

After scrounging together every last coin I can, I probably have access to around twenty gold’s worth. No, if I played around a bit with the wages of the other craftsmen, I could probably scrape together another ten gold or so...

As Oliver’s thoughts were slipping into a dangerously dark place, a knock came at the door, and one of his apprentices barged in without even waiting for his response.

“Master, there is someone here to see you.”

“You stupid worm! You must really not care about the integrity of your asshole, huh?!”

Having his train of thought cut off, all of Oliver’s anger and frustration was redirected straight at his apprentice, who had only been working with his usual diligence. At that moment, Oliver was seriously considering dipping his hand into his apprentices’ wages.

However, his apprentice calmly replied to him, “A very beautiful woman has come to see you. If you are looking to seek comfort in someone’s ass, I suggest you consider her for the role first.”

“A fine woman, you say? Has she come to propose to me?”

“Master, you’re already in your fifties. Perhaps it would be best to retire that depravity. Of course that isn’t why she came.”

“Haven’t you ever heard that you’re only as old as your libido? I’m a perfectly eligible bachelor.”

“Can’t you at least rephrase that into something a bit more tasteful? Like, it’s never too late for love, or something?” The apprentice let out a mental sigh. His master was skilled, but he was far too eccentric. Surely there were no other apprentices who had to go through so much just to tell their master that they had a visitor.

“Well then, if she isn’t interested in the seed of a genius blacksmith, just what has she come here for?”

“Apparently, she has recently moved to the area and wishes to introduce herself.”

“If that’s all it is, then you lot should be able to handle it. Just accept whatever she brought us as a gift and give her my thanks.”

“The problem is it doesn’t seem like it will be quite that easy... I get the feeling that if we don’t treat this visit very carefully, it could come back to bite us somehow.”

“What? Is she the head of some crime family or something?”

“According to her, she’s the wife of the Count’s personal blacksmith.”

“When the hell did the Count decide on hiring an in-house blacksmith?”

“Who knows?” The apprentice shrugged his shoulders to signal that he would rather be done with the conversation if at all possible.

If she really was the wife of the Count’s personal blacksmith, it was possible that she would know something about how to get your hands on a katana. However, if it were some con artist claiming to have connections to the nobility, it could be dangerous to get too deeply involved.

Would that visitor be their saving grace, or a deadly trap? Not knowing either way, Oliver made his way over to the reception room.

***

When Oliver entered the reception room, he was greeted with the sight of a surprisingly young woman. Her hair, which cascaded to her waist, had a gentle curl to it. Her composed and peaceful demeanor emanated an air of intelligence, as well. It would also be a crime not to mention her bountiful breasts and plump posterior. She was a beautiful flower that almost seemed out of place in as filthy a place as a blacksmith’s workshop.

Oliver further doubted that there was any truth to the claims about her connection to the personal blacksmith to the Count or whatever. Any blacksmith who garnered that much regard among the noble class would have to be rather old—at the very least, far too old to have a wife as young as her. Or perhaps that blacksmith had used his authority to force her into wedlock.

That bastard! Some things can’t be forgiven!

In this way, Oliver found himself directing anger and jealousy at a man he knew neither by face nor name.

The woman stood up tall and faced Oliver. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Claudia, the wife of Count Shander’s personal blacksmith.”

Oliver felt a strange kind of pressure from the elegance that she displayed with every little move.

This isn’t good. I have to regain control over the flow of the conversation, or I’ll just be swept away. You’re in my house, I’ll have you know.

Oliver’s competitive nature was set ablaze.

“As we’ve just moved to the area, please accept this as a little neighborly gift.” Claudia pulled out two bottles from a large bag.

“Ah, this white one appears to be salt, yes? What is in this black one, though?”

“That would be black pepper.”

“What did you say?!” Oliver threw away any manners that he had left and opened the bottle right on the spot, smelling its aroma. There was an unmistakable sharpness to the scent. It was indeed black pepper.

Spices weren’t necessarily reserved solely for the noble class. If a commoner were to live a little beyond their means, they could afford to use some sparingly. That still didn’t change the fact that they were a very valuable item. To have a bottle filled to the brim with pepper given to him so readily, Oliver could barely hold back the drool threatening to escape from the corner of his lip.

Especially for craftsmen who sweated buckets every day in hot environments, strongly flavored food was irresistible. Even if they didn’t have meat, it would go splendidly with some vegetable soup. It was a gift that grabbed Oliver by his heart and stomach.

With both of the bottles together, it would likely sell for a whole gold coin.

This level of etiquette, this level of financial power... Could all of that talk about being the wife of the personal blacksmith to the Count actually be true?

The scales of belief and doubt in Oliver’s mind rocked back and forth.

“While we don’t participate in the Guild system, I’m sure that there will be times that we work with each other as fellow blacksmith workshops. My husband and I sincerely hope that our workshops will be able to assist each other in the future.”

“Ah, speaking of which...” said Oliver, putting on airs. “Shouldn’t your husband be coming around to greet us himself? Why has he had you come in his stead?” Oliver wanted to grab any upper hand he could in that conversation.

Claudia saw right through him, of course. She gave him a little grin and a stare so cold that it made her every move up until then seem like a lie. “My husband, Lutz, has received an honorary knighthood from the Count. If you wish to speak with him directly, I believe it would be proper for you to come to him, no?”

Oliver groaned. The woman in front of him was a nasty piece of business, beating him over his head with her husband’s authority. It also didn’t feel like she had any real fealty to the Count, more like she was just trying to use everything that she had at her disposal. If you remained well-mannered, she would answer in kind, but if you made an enemy out of her, she would use anything she could to destroy you. That was the kind of woman she was.

At the same time, Oliver found himself taking a bit of pleasure in Claudia’s icy stare. Even after turning fifty, there were still doors to new and unusual fetishes opening up within him. Life was truly full of surprises.

Never before has a woman made me feel like I want to be stepped on. You’re the first.

After seeing Oliver’s face light up with joy, Claudia realized that she could no longer grasp what the hell he was thinking, so it was best to bring the conversation to a close. “Well then, I have a few more places to stop by, so I will be taking my leave.” She got up from her chair.

Wait, I feel like I’m forgetting something critical.

Oliver racked his brain, trying to remember what it was that he had forgotten. It was something so important that if he missed that very opportunity, his life would crumble beyond redress.

Was I going to propose a contract to make her my lover?

No, that didn’t sound bad either, but that definitely wasn’t it. If Claudia really was the wife of the personal blacksmith to the Count like she said she was, she was likely to have some kind of valuable knowledge about something.

“Ah...”

Before Oliver even realized it, Claudia already had the large bag over her shoulders and was about to open the door to leave.

“Waaaiiit!” Oliver slid on his knees across the floor and grabbed onto Claudia’s feet.

“Waaah! Wh-What is it?!” Claudia unconsciously pulled Love Letter out from where it was hidden in her clothes and held on to it tightly. From their current positions, Claudia could easily stab Oliver in his head or back.

However, Oliver showed no fear. If anything, his eyes were glimmering with excitement. “That! That’s it! That’s what they call a katana, am I right?!”

“Katana?”

“I’m looking for a katana at the moment! If you know anything about where I could get one, I would appreciate any information I can get!”

“All right, I get it! Can you please let go of my feet now?!”

“Wait, you really know where I could get one?”

“I said let go, you nut case!” Claudia lifted up her left foot and drove it directly into Oliver’s face, finally calming him down.

The two of them sat back down, the table separating them. The only shift since their conversation began was the distinct mark of the treads of Claudia’s shoe on Oliver’s face.

“All right, I’ll ask again. Claudia... Madam Claudia, do you really know something about katana?”

“Not only do I know something about them, it was my husband that forged the katana that was used in the peace negotiations with the federation,” said Claudia with a strange mixture of annoyance and pride. She was making the sort of face that said, “It was me that built Lutzy up to this point, you know? He is absolutely head over heels for me!”

“Go on, go on, then! What kind of shape does a katana have?!”

“The beauty of a katana isn’t something that can be conveyed with words alone. I have brought one along with me, though. Would you like to see it?”

“You have one?!” Oliver erupted with excitement. The problem that had been troubling him so much recently looked like it might just get solved far easier than he ever imagined. He felt as though he had finally been able to cough up a fishbone that was stuck in his throat.

As I have always believed, I truly am adored by the goddess of luck. If that goddess appeared in front of me, I wouldn’t even mind offering my ass to her.

Claudia pulled out what appeared to be a katana from her large bag. The sheath, the hilt, and the handguard all had a very peculiar shape to them.

“Please, let me see that!” Oliver reached for the katana.

Claudia quickly pulled it back close to her. “No, I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Oliver. This is a product that I intend to sell, and I have a no touching policy.”

If she were to give one of her products to somebody who she didn’t trust, there was a nonzero chance that they wouldn’t give it back. In the past she had even had people pulling knives on her and saying that they would only return it to her if she agreed to lower the price for them. There were times where she had no choice but to yield to such threats and times where she was left with nothing to do but flee. She didn’t want to be put in a situation like that ever again. Not voicing those concerns for the fear of coming off as rude was something that benefited no one.

“I understand... In that case, I’ll buy it. How much do you want for it?”

“For a katana of this quality, I would expect around ten gold coins.”

“Isn’t that a bit expensive? Do you even have any way of guaranteeing to me that it is in fact a bona fide katana?!”

It wasn’t a price that Oliver was entirely incapable of paying, but it wasn’t an amount of money that he could hand over easily either. Just thinking about how many weapons he would need to sell to make back that much money was enough to give him the thousand-yard stare.

If it was the real deal, it would certainly be worth that much. However, if it was a fake, he couldn’t imagine how long it would take him to recover from such a loss. He couldn’t rule out the possibility that everything Claudia had done up until then was an elaborate farce.

“A guarantee?” Claudia looked at him as if he had just said a bad joke. “Is it not the job of a blacksmith such as yourself to appraise the value of a piece of metalwork? Exactly whose seal of guarantee are you looking for? Do you want to take it to another blacksmith in the neighborhood so they can appraise it?” Claudia’s tone was rather aggressive. It seemed that she hadn’t quite forgiven Oliver for grabbing her feet.

“Okay, I get it. In that case, can you at least show me the blade? If after buying it I found out that it was covered in rust, it would be the end of me.”

“Very well, if you will excuse me...” Claudia stood up and made sure there was ample distance between her and Oliver before drawing the blade.

It was a gesture to show Oliver that she had no intention of harming him with the katana, but from Oliver’s perspective, he would have preferred to inspect it much closer up, so it was a bit frustrating.

It was a single-edged blade with a slight curve to it; the blade itself glistened as brilliantly as platinum. The wavy pattern along the cutting edge was also intriguing. Oliver’s senses as a blacksmith were screaming to him that it was without a doubt the real deal.

“I’ll buy it! No, please let me buy it from you! However, no matter how you look at it, the price of ten gold coins is just too steep. Would you be able to sell it for just a little less, you know, like a new neighbor discount?”

“There’s no shortage of people who want to get their hands on a katana right now.” There were no cracks in Claudia’s armor. Even she wasn’t sure just how high the demand for katana had grown, but from studying the expression on Oliver’s face, she was at least certain that he would pay up.

It was within the range that Oliver had figured he would need to spend. He could pay that much. It was doable. However, he was still hung up on whether he should spend such a small fortune.

It surely was a real katana. That aside, was its value truly so monumental? Even considering the fact that having a good eye for blades was absolutely necessary as a blacksmith, he couldn’t be held responsible for the appraisal of a kind of weapon that he had never even seen before.

There was no certificate of authenticity, no official appraisal, nor was there any letter of introduction. It was just a weapon that happened to be on the person of a suspicious woman who had come to visit him, but if he let that chance slip, there likely wouldn’t be another.

What should I do? Oh God, what should I do?

He would be able to live up to the expectations of Lawrence, his greatest benefactor. That thought alone brought Oliver to his final conclusion.

“Okay, I’ll buy it at that price,” said Oliver with a voice that sounded like he was squeezing out all the air from his lungs.

“Are you sure? Ten gold coins is a lot of money, you know.”

“I, Oliver, am a man! I will not run or hide from a challenge!” He slammed the gold coins down on the table.

Claudia gently rested the katana down as well. Then they both reached over at the same time to complete the trade.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you. I look forward to maintaining a healthy business relationship in the future, as well.” Claudia quickly put away the gold coins and gave Oliver an enchanting smile. Then, without even waiting for someone to see her off, she quickly left the workshop.

“So this is a katana, huh?” Left alone in the reception room, Oliver looked over its blade in a daze.

His wallet was much lighter, but he had a katana in his hands. While there was no shortage of evidence that what Oliver had just experienced was reality, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still dreaming.

***

While Oliver still had a bit of time before the deadline that they had agreed on, he decided to take the katana down to Lawrence’s store personally. No matter how many times Oliver saw it, he couldn’t help but be in awe of how grand Lawrence’s store was. There were many people who mistook it for the Count’s mansion when they first moved to the city.

My run-down workshop isn’t even worth comparing to such a place.

Oliver cut off his thoughts there, regretting that he allowed himself to fall into such a pessimistic mindset. The man who owned that incredible store was willing to support Oliver. If anything, that was something to be grateful for.

“Oh, if it isn’t Oliver. Please, come on in!” An employee whom Oliver recognized had spotted him and cheerfully called out to greet him. You could tell that she worked in the service industry because she didn’t show a single hint of being put off by Oliver’s soot-covered appearance.

“Hi there! Is Lawrence in at the moment?”

“The master is in the back right now. He has an appointment elsewhere in the afternoon, so now would actually be the best time to speak with him.”

“Oh, really? I must be quite lucky, then. The goddess of luck must be getting her panties wet just waiting for me to arrive.”

“Ah...is that so?”

The employee showed Oliver to Lawrence’s room, and the old gentleman happily greeted him.

“Hey, Oliver, you’re a fair bit ahead of schedule.”

“I looked far and wide for you, sir. Or at least, that’s what I would like to say, but I just happened to get rather lucky.” Oliver pulled out the katana that he had on his waist, saya and all, and placed it on the table.

Lawrence took it up in his hands and drew the blade. His usual gentle gaze slowly shifted to the sharp, analytical stare of a merchant as he studied the katana in detail.

“I see, so this is a katana. Its characteristics match up with what I have heard about in rumors, so there is no mistaking it.”

Hearing Lawrence’s appraisal, Oliver breathed a mental sigh of relief. He had been almost certain of it himself, but getting Lawrence’s seal of approval put any of his remaining worries at ease.

“Just where did you get a hold of this?”

“It’s a bit of a long story, but...” Oliver explained about the woman who had come by, claiming to be the wife of the Count’s personal blacksmith. He told Lawrence about how she had pulled out that katana when he asked if she knew anything about them, and how he had somehow gotten her to agree to sell it to him. However, he left out the part about how he had awakened to a new fetish after getting stepped on by her.

After hearing Oliver’s explanation, Lawrence nodded with deep interest. “I had heard that the Count had recently employed a new blacksmith and ornamentalist.”

“So, what she was saying must have been true.”

“Although, considering that the Count is currently away in the capital, it likely hasn’t been properly confirmed yet, so it is an unofficial title for the time being.”

That bitch. She pressured me, using the Count as a shield, and her position wasn’t even officially confirmed yet? Next time we meet, I’ll have you crying under the tip of my blade.

A dark desire for revenge welled in Oliver’s heart. Even if he ultimately ended up being the one crying and begging for mercy, that might not be so bad either.

“By the way, Oliver, how much did you purchase this katana for?”

“I bought it for around ten gold coins.”

“I see. In that case, please take this.” Lawrence picked up a small box from the shelf behind him. From it, he gathered up twenty gold coins and offered them over to Oliver.

Oliver’s eyes widened with an overwhelming sensation of shock and greed. “No, no, I simply cannot accept that much. I had come here with the intention of giving this katana to you as a token of my gratitude. I can’t very well take any money for it.” While Oliver’s words showed a great deal of reservation, his eyes were glimmering with desire as they remained fixed on the pile of gold coins.

Lawrence let out a little laugh. Oliver truly was an incorrigible fellow.

“Go one, take it. If you don’t, I fear it will be rather awkward for me to ask you any favors should anything else come up.”

“Well, if you insist...” Oliver pulled out his wallet and filled it with the gold coins. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had bought the katana for fifteen gold coins, would Lawrence have offered him thirty in return? However, he soon cleared such thoughts from his mind. It was far too disrespectful of him to put a price on the satisfaction of his benefactor.

“Oh, one last thing. I would very much like it if you were to hold on to this katana, Oliver.”

Oliver cocked his head in confusion over Lawrence’s proposal. “Were you not looking for a katana to offer to a noble or show off to others with?”

“That was my original intention, but I’ve grown even greedier, you see.” Lawrence tapped on the saya with the tips of his fingers. “Would it be possible for you to mass-produce these in your workshop, using this katana as an example?”

“That would be—”

“What I really want is a katana that was made by your hands, Oliver.”

Oliver’s entire body shook at those words. Not just for a blacksmith, but for makers of anything, it was a great honor for somebody to say that they wanted something made by your own hands. Lawrence didn’t just want a katana, he wanted Oliver’s katana. As those words were coming from the only man in the entire world that Oliver truly respected, he was filled with pure joy, but at the same time, his judgment was also clouded.

Lawrence really is the only one who understands me.

In a slightly exaggerated gesture, Oliver pounded his fist onto his chest. “Leave it to me, sir! In one wee...no, one month, I’ll make sure to bring you what you asked for!”

In this way, Oliver stepped back onto the path of suffering, entirely of his own accord.

***

A few days later, Oliver could once again be found lying on the floor of his workshop, his head held in his hands. Around him were several pieces of metal in the shape of a katana, but not a single one of them packed any punch.

These things are as useless as a flaccid cock.

They didn’t project any strength, they didn’t have any charming appeal to them, and they certainly didn’t have that grotesque yet enchanting beauty. Perhaps because they were at least in the shape of a katana, the gap between them and the true katana that Oliver based them off of was even more glaring.

There was no hamon running along the blade. The curve of the blade wasn’t caused by a temperature differential but was simply hammered into that shape before quenching it. More than being a blade, it was just a flattened piece of steel.

It wasn’t just a matter of Oliver’s skill level; there seemed to be something fundamentally different about how katana were made. Katana likely weren’t made through the process of casting, but through forging. In other words, you couldn’t just pour molten iron into a mold to give it its shape, you had to work the metal like a baker kneaded dough. In the past few days, that was all he had managed to figure out.

He needed to learn under somebody more familiar with katana. However, skilled craftsmen had a tendency to closely guard their techniques. Holding a monopoly over a specific means of production greatly increased one’s overall worth.

If the smith that made that katana were to expose the secrets of his trade and any old blacksmith was able to start forging katana, then he might very well lose his position as the Count’s personal blacksmith and fall back down to the status of just an ordinary smith. Surely, he would know that risk better than anyone. Even if Oliver were to get on his hands and knees and beg that man to teach him, he would surely deny his request.

Even if he couldn’t learn directly under him, Oliver just wanted a little hint to point him in the right direction.

He decided that he would just have to wait until the next Guild meeting. There, he would ever so subtly bring up the topic of katana. He figured that someone who knew something about them just might have a slip of the tongue. Somebody, just maybe, possibly... Everything was entirely up in the air.

It’ll be okay. I’m Lucky Oliver! I’m the man that’s going to make a harem under the watchful eyes of the goddess of luck!

Oliver had nothing to back up his overwhelming self-confidence. Nonetheless, it helped him calm his busy mind. At the very least, it was better than wallowing in sorrow, crying his eyes out. Looking at it that way, his delusional confidence was an impressive skill.

***

On the day of the Guild meeting, there was no room at all for subtlety. The only things that anyone seemed to be interested in were katana and a particular illustrious woman with a fine ass.

The usual discussions about the distribution of iron and charcoal or how they were going to split the requests for weapons manufacturing were over in five minutes. That was when the man whom the master smiths called the elder started to speak as if he had remembered something.

“Ah, by the way, it seems like katana have been rather popular lately... Not like I know much about it, though,” said the elder in an obviously performative manner.

However, none of the other fifteen masters called the elder out for it. They had all come there to talk about the very same thing, after all.

Everyone continued with caution, avoiding all eye contact. It was almost as if they believed that if they were to look someone in the eyes, they would accidentally leak all of the information that they had.

“I have heard that the sword they gave those barbarians as a peace offering was what they call a katana, as well.”

“We have been quite inundated with merchants trying to get ahead of this new trend too. Just how long will this dumb ruckus last, I wonder.”

Several other masters nodded along. That was what they wanted to know too. If all of that fuss about katana was just a passing trend, then they wouldn’t have to let it concern them. However, if it was going to continue into the foreseeable future, smiths who couldn’t forge katana were going to be left behind.

“It seems that it was Marquis Eldenburger at the center of those peace talks...”

“That merrymaker of all people?!”

It all must have been the result of him bragging to everyone in the entire kingdom about his diplomatic success. Of course, along with that would come discussions about the katana that played a critical role in the ordeal.

Knowing Maruis Eldenburger’s social circle, it would likely be several years before the newfound interest in katana dwindled down. Even then, there was no guarantee that things would return to how they were before.

“There was a woman who stopped by my workshop... She claimed to be the wife of the personal blacksmith to the Count.”

“She came to our workshop too. I split the spices that she gave me with my apprentices, but they used them all up in one go.”

“Well, that’s how it goes when you give stuff like that to growing lads. I kept my mouth shut and enjoyed it all for myself.”

“Perhaps I’ll go ahead and tell your apprentices about that then, shall I?”

“Cut me some slack there, seriously.”

Everyone broke into laughter, but on the inside, more than half of them were cursing them for getting off topic.

“I’ve got to say, though, that woman had one fine ass.”

Everyone, including Oliver, nodded deeply in agreement.

“I asked her if she’d be interested in marrying my son, but she turned the offer down immediately.”

“Well, you can’t exactly blame her for not seeing any merit in leaving the Count’s personal blacksmith for someone who can’t even cut charcoal properly.”

It was important for a blacksmith to know how to cut charcoal evenly to ensure a consistent temperature throughout the forge. It was the very basic of the basics. In fact, the B in blacksmith stood for “better know how to cut your charcoal evenly.”

“I can’t argue with that, I’m afraid. The hardest part is it still seems that he intends to take over the workshop after I’m gone.”

The conversation completely derailed and didn’t show any signs of getting back on track. It seemed that was the limit of how much information they could get out of each other. What they were able to deduce was that that katana boom probably wasn’t going to be dying down anytime soon and that Claudia had made sure to show her face to every single blacksmith in town.

Was there really nothing left to do other than visit that guy Lutz and ask him directly? No, surely he would just take Oliver for an idiot. Worst-case scenario, Lutz could even try to convince the Count that Oliver wasn’t fit to be considered a master smith. He had to avoid that eventuality at all costs.

At the very least, Oliver wanted to speak with him, though. Just as he was wondering if there was any excuse that he could use to show up at his workshop, the image of Claudia’s smug face popped into his mind. She had said something about her husband having an honorary knighthood, hadn’t she?

Damn, what a spiteful woman she is.

What else had she said at that time? Oliver tried his best to remember what came afterward, mumbling to himself as he thought.

“If you wish to speak with him directly, I believe it would be proper for you to come to him, no?”

That was it. Surely it would just be rude of him not to stop by to celebrate the arrival of the Count’s new personal blacksmith. If he just happened to get a glimpse of Lutz’s workstation while he was there, that would be nothing more than a little accident.

As the other masters left the meeting one by one, Oliver remained with a conniving grin spread across his lips.

***

Tee hee, I’m here!

The words were written plainly by Oliver’s creepy grin.

Claudia remained stunned in the doorway after opening the door for him. In front of her, there was an older man with a buff physique from his many years as a blacksmith, carrying a bouquet of flowers and giving her the biggest, fakest smile she had ever seen. It was something straight out of a horror story.

It took Claudia a few seconds to fully realize that it wasn’t some variety of monster that had darkened her doorstep. It was just a master smith who was looking to officially introduce himself.

“Oh, hello there, Oliver. What brings you here today?”

“I just wanted to introduce myself and give my congratulations to Lutz for his promotion to the position of personal blacksmith to the Count. Is he in at the moment?”

“Hmm, I see. Yes, he’s in, but...” Claudia was still a bit confused. Then she remembered what she had said when she was at Oliver’s workshop. He must have decided to take her challenge literally and came by to talk to Lutz directly as she had suggested.

Just then, a young man came in from another room. “Who is it, dear?”

He had the strong body of someone who worked in blacksmithing. Along his arms were small burns that were likely from the sparks that flew off the metal as he hammered it. He was either in the same business as Oliver or he was a raving masochist. It had to be one or the other.

“I suppose you would be an apprentice, yes? I would very much like to meet with your master, the great craftsman Lutz. Will you show me to him?”

“Me?”

“Yes, I would be grateful if you would show me the way to where Master Lutz is.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I believe that I have made myself pretty clear. Show me to Lutz right away.”

“So, me.”

Just what on earth was that apprentice blabbering on about? While Oliver knew that it would be going too far, he wanted to punch him right in the face for wasting so much time.

It was at that point that Claudia began to let out a quiet, yet concerning laugh, her fists clenched tightly. “Oliver, the young man standing in front of you is the Count’s personal blacksmith, my husband, Lutz.”

“What did you say?”

No matter how you looked at it, the man was only around twenty years old. He was far too young. At Oliver’s workshop, he would be at the age where he could be entrusted with a few small jobs here and there, but that would be all.

Just what is the Count up to here? There’s no way this guy is a master blacksmith—it has to be a cover or something.

Oliver couldn’t believe it for a second.

“You too, Lutzy. It’s about time you said something other than ‘me’ to our guest.”

“I was just having a bit of fun trying to figure out when he would finally catch on.”

Lutz and Claudia laughed.

“Sorry about that, Oliver. I’m Lutz, the katana smith.”

“Oh, right, nice to meet you. I’m Oliver, the master smith of a nearby workshop. I’m afraid that we got off to a rather confusing start there, but I would like to sincerely congratulate you on becoming the Count’s blacksmith.” Oliver handed Lutz the bouquet of flowers.

Lutz then handed the flowers over to Claudia like they were in a relay race. They didn’t have anything fancy like a vase to put them in, so they ended up putting them in a water bucket.

Now that’s finished, I’ve lost my excuse for being here.

Oliver had introduced himself and given Lutz his congratulations. If he tried to stay any longer, it would start to look awkward. Oliver did his best to come up with something, but it was Lutz himself who offered him the opportunity he was looking for.

“While you’re here, would you like to have a look around the workshop?”

“Would that be okay?”

“That’s why you came here, right?”

The fact that such a young man had seen through him so completely was a bit frustrating, but it wasn’t the time to be swayed by that. It really was an offer that Oliver couldn’t afford to refuse.

“Think of it as a thanks for the flowers.” Lutz showed him a smile.

Regardless of the intentions behind Oliver’s visit, Lutz wanted to thank Oliver for coming to give his congratulations. His thoughts about the matter really were that simple.

Wait, could this guy actually just be a pretty nice person?

Oliver’s impression of Lutz slowly started to tip in a favorable direction.

Stepping into the workshop itself, Oliver was surrounded with strange tools and equipment. No matter whether it was a sword or a katana you were making, the fact that it was made by striking on steel remained unchanged, so Oliver could at least guess at what the various things were for.

“Wow, this is...” Oliver thought of how he would try to use the various pieces of equipment to forge a katana. However, without the full knowledge of the process itself, his image of it was still hazy. It wasn’t enough to just use the same equipment. There must have been some kind of secret to the method itself.

How would he find that out, though? That was the question. There wasn’t a person alive who would give out the secrets of their trade, the thing that put food on their table, to somebody they had just met.

Asking someone to teach them their techniques for free was perhaps the most disrespectful thing that you could say to a craftsman. It was a taboo. If you were to say such a thing, it wouldn’t be strange to be excommunicated on the spot. At the very least, if someone were to ask that of Oliver, he would punch them right in the face.

Ugghh... I’m not going to get anywhere if I don’t show some guts here. I absolutely need to know how katana are made.

Lutz seemed like he was a rather personable guy. It wouldn’t hurt to at least tell him the situation he was in. In exchange for Lutz’s knowledge on the subject, he’d give him anything that he wanted, whether it was money, his asshole, or his own techniques.

“Lutz, I’m fully aware of how shameful it is of me, but there is something that I need to ask of you.”

“What is it?”

“I would be very grateful if you were to allow me to watch you actually forging a katana.”

He really went and said it. He prepared himself for the iron fist that was sure to come flying at him, but nothing happened.

Lutz didn’t show any sign of anger or offense. He simply looked up at the sootless ceiling and thought for a moment. “Could you give me some time to think it over?”

“No, of course I don’t mind, but...” Oliver gave him a look that said, “Why?”

“I want to talk it over with my wife first.”

“Oh, so she’s the one who wears the pants, huh?” Oliver cursed himself for letting his tongue slip in that most sensitive of situations. Oliver gave Lutz an awkward smile, knowing that he had messed up.

“Yeah, and she looks damn good in those pants too,” answered Lutz calmly.

“I can’t argue with that.”

The two of them exchanged a mischievous grin.

Any thoughts about Lutz being involved in some conspiracy on the part of the Count or being employed under false pretenses cleanly slipped from Oliver’s mind.

This guy is a comrade in arms. An ass man.

***

After seeing Oliver off, Lutz and Claudia sat down at a table on the second floor and enjoyed some beer together. Unlike how it was in their previous home, all four of the table’s legs touched the floor, so it didn’t rock back and forth. They were very grateful for that.

“Hmm? So, he wanted to learn how to forge katana, huh? As a merchant, I’m not entirely sure myself, but I’m pretty sure that craftsmen treat their techniques as something to be kept secret at all costs. If he underestimates you because you’re young...” Claudia’s gorgeous eyes narrowed into a sharp stare. To Claudia, the thought of someone insulting Lutz was an even graver offense than someone insulting her.

Lutz waved his hand, refuting the idea. “No, I don’t think that’s what it is. That guy is rude and irresponsible, but I’m not sure how to put it... He had a craftsman’s hands.”

At the very least, when it came to blacksmithing, he was a serious man. Therefore, Lutz wanted to trust him.

Claudia still didn’t quite understand all of that kind of unspoken communication between craftsmen that Lutz was always talking about, so she pouted, feeling a bit left out. “Come to think of it, you basically taught Borbus all of your techniques for free, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, that old man Borbus... The reason that I ended up accepting his request was because of Gerhard’s introduction. I don’t know the first thing about Oliver.”

“So, you trust Oliver as a craftsman, but not necessarily as a person, is that right?”

“Pretty much. Also, I actually did learn a lot about how to make western swords from Borbus, but there isn’t anything in particular that I want to learn from Oliver. There isn’t really anything that I want in return.”

“We had this same kind of problem with all that gift-giving diplomacy during the peace talks, didn’t we? It can be surprisingly difficult to give two things that are of equal value. Although, from a merchant’s perspective, we usually just settle those kinds of discrepancies with money.”

“I don’t know, it just doesn’t feel quite right to sell my techniques for money.”

“Hmmm...” Claudia traced her delicate finger around the brim of her tankard. “Either way, giving your techniques out for free would be a bad move.”

“You think so? I figured that having someone in my debt would at least have some value to it.”

“People don’t feel indebted to someone so easily. Most of the time, if it isn’t something so grand that it changes the course of your whole life, people hardly feel an ounce of gratitude.” Claudia did leave a little wiggle room for some outliers here and there. If she didn’t, she would have been denying the very reason that she had chosen to be with Lutz in the first place. “If you teach him what you know for free, he’ll act very grateful in that moment, but if you ask for something in return the next time he needs something, he’ll be aggravated by that. He’ll just say, ‘You did it for free last time, though!’ Not to mention the fact that if word got out you taught him for free, then others would expect you to do the same for them. If you turned them down, it would mean making enemies. That’s just how it works.”

“God, it’s a vicious circle. Scary stuff.”

“When you do something for free, you’re often the one who pays in the end.”

They both sat in silence for a while, thinking about what they should do.

Then, Claudia looked up like an idea had come to her. However, there was a somewhat apologetic look in her eyes, an obvious reluctance. “You know what? Why don’t we just flip this whole thing on its head?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before I tell you my idea, I just want to confirm something with you, Lutzy. Before you agreed to teach Borbus, you said that no matter who you taught your techniques to, it wouldn’t change the fact that you are still the very best. Do you still feel confident in that?”

The corners of Lutz’s lips twisted up into a smirk. “Just who do you think you’re asking that to?”

“Good, very good. That’s the man I fell in love with.”

“Why, thank you very much. So, what is this idea of yours?”

“Um...” Claudia was still wondering whether it was really okay to say it aloud. She nervously played with her voluminous hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I know that I’m the one who came up with it, but I can’t shake the feeling that it might be a bit insulting for me to suggest you do such a thing.”

“Even if I don’t like the idea, it’s not like I’ll be mad or anything. If it’s something I can’t agree to, I’ll just let you know on the spot. You can trust me.” Lutz gave her a big smile to put her at ease.

Knowing that if she hesitated any more than that, it would just put a burden on Lutz, Claudia steeled herself and said, “Why don’t we gather every single master smith in the city together and give them all a demonstration on your process?”

It took more than a minute for Lutz to wrap his head around what Claudia had said. “Sorry, could you explain what you mean in a bit more detail? I’m afraid that my only competences lie in whacking hot steel and feeling your ass. I’m not good with this kind of complicated stuff.”

After hearing Lutz’s declaration of surrender, Claudia gave him a nod, her expression still lacking its usual levity. It seemed that she hadn’t just brought up the idea without considering the possible consequences either.

“First, let’s just confirm our current situation. Because of our involvement in the peace talks with the federation, there have been rumors spreading around the kingdom about katana and a rise in people that want to get their hands on them. However, the actual supply of katana in the kingdom is so drastically low that no one can seem to find one.”

“I suppose it would just be the ones that I make and the rare katana that comes mixed with some other imports from the East.”

There probably weren’t even a hundred katana on the whole continent. Considering how big a role they played on the international stage just recently, it was far too modest a number.

“Humans are the sort of creatures that only want something more when they’re told they can’t have it. However, if a person has to wait too long to actually get their hands on something, they tend to reach a point where they suddenly lose interest altogether and just say, ‘You know what, I don’t even care anymore!’ It’s that eventual state of absolute indifference that scares me. Once people get to that point, it doesn’t matter how much you lower your prices or promote your product; people just ignore it completely.”

“I’m not exactly confident in my ability to meet the demand of every single noble, merchant, and adventurer by myself.”

“It would actually be beneficial to have loads of other people around to make katana, as well. That is, so long as it didn’t endanger your current position. You want people to be able to get their hands on a katana, see that everyone else around them has one too, and then think to themselves that they might as well go all out and get themselves a real masterpiece. If you could get people to start thinking in that way, it would be a dream come true for us.”

“Okay, I’m starting to get it.”

“Also, not only would that benefit the other blacksmiths around you, but it would be doing a huge favor for the Count, as well.”

“Sorry, I don’t get it at all...”

Why would the Count’s name come up there? Lutz could only really understand how it would impact the things directly around him. He lacked the imagination to see how it would affect the world on a larger scale than that.

“The Shander domain has gained some notoriety as a producer of fine weapons, but only to the extent that it is considered to be just a bit better than the surrounding territories. It’s not enough for merchants from all over the kingdom to excitedly flock here in droves.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

There were many skilled craftsmen in the domain, but that was just to say that the average level of skill was on the higher side. There wasn’t anything in particular that set them apart from the rest of the kingdom.

For example, even if Oliver were to bring out his best two-handed sword and claim with great pride that it was a revolutionary masterpiece, the average person couldn’t tell the difference between that and a normal sword at a glance. It would be other craftsmen who could compare the quality to similar swords and recognize that it was indeed a fine piece of work. That was the level of difference in quality.

It was the job of craftsmen to work themselves until they vomited blood in pursuit of those tiny improvements, but a normal person wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference. If they were going to be compared to other countries or other domains, it was important to have something glaringly obvious to set them apart.

“Lutzy, you would teach the master smiths how to make katana. Then katana would be produced in the Shander domain—just the Shander domain. If that were to happen, the perceived value of this domain would go through the roof.”

“And if I just taught everyone, there wouldn’t be any talk about me favoring any one person or workshop.”

“That’s right.” Claudia nodded, then lifted her tankard to drink down the last bit of the beer remaining inside it, giving her some time to organize her thoughts completely. “The only problem is that we would need to get the Count’s permission first.”

“Would it be a problem if we just did it ourselves?”

“If we didn’t let him know in advance, he wouldn’t be able to take any credit for it, you see. Also, now that you are the personal blacksmith of the Count, your skills could be called a part of his overall assets. Regardless of whether the Count gives his approval or not, refusing to talk to him beforehand could cause some serious trouble down the road.”

“Getting to the royal capital from here takes about ten days on horseback, right?” said Lutz.

“If you put a few gold coins in a messenger’s hand, they can get there and back in around two weeks. Maybe even faster if you promise them a bonus for returning ahead of schedule.”

“In that case, feel free to use as much as you like.”

“Thanks, but it shouldn’t take that much, anyway. If I promised them too big of a bonus, I wouldn’t put it past some of those messengers to just forge a response from the Count and come to collect their reward.”

“Those sound like the words of someone who has been burned before.”

“Lutzy, I certainly don’t mind the man that I love holding an interest in my past, but former business endeavors are a different story altogether.” Claudia’s eyes weren’t laughing.

Unable to stand her sharp glare stabbing into him any longer, Lutz bowed his head and said, “Sorry...”

“I’ll go tell Oliver about the idea with the stipulation that it might take a little while. I’ll also send out a letter to the Count. Lutzy, you just focus on doing the necessary preparations for a big public demonstration.”

“Okay, no problem. By the way, if the Count disagrees with the whole idea, what are we going to do then?”

Surely the Count had his own thoughts about it and his own interests to protect. There was a possibility that the Count would point out something that Claudia had missed initially and reject the whole plan.

Claudia waved her tankard in the air. “If it comes to that, we’ll just drink ourselves silly and go to bed.”

The day after they had decided on an open demonstration, Claudia left the house early in the morning, while Lutz remained on the second floor, deep in thought. A shattered blade lay before him, the katana that inevitably drove his father out of the Marquis’s domain. Lutz often brought out this heirloom whenever there was something he needed to think through.

The thought of putting on such a spectacle was honestly terrifying. All of the masters whom they would be inviting were much older than Lutz and had many more years of experience in blacksmithing. To have more than ten of those masters watching his every move, trying to steal his every secret, was akin to some form of torture.

Under the ordinary apprentice system enforced by the Guild, after being placed under the instruction of a master smith, you would spend three to five years just doing odd jobs, without setting foot near a forge or even holding a hammer. After that period of time, you would finally be able to start to learn the craft hands-on. Even then, it would only be the very basics that you were instructed in.

If you wanted to learn any more than that, you would have to watch your master or senior apprentices very closely and steal their techniques. Either that, or find a way to get your master to like you enough that he revealed some of his secrets voluntarily. If you did that for long enough, you would eventually become a full-fledged smith.

Lutz had skipped that entire process. He had been helping out his father with his katana smithing work since he was so young that his age could be expressed with a single digit. He was only thirteen when he was first allowed to hold the hammer himself. Lutz’s father didn’t think for a second about protecting his secrets. He taught Lutz every last thing that he had learned over his life, and Lutz absorbed it all like water splashed over dry sand. There was no doubt that he loved his one and only son; however, there was no expectation of greatness or prestige.

“All of my katana smithing techniques are worthless to me. Go ahead and take them.”

That seemed to be his father’s stance on the matter. Every time he remembered the tired smile on his father’s face, those were the words that came to Lutz’s mind. His father didn’t place any expectations on him. He didn’t expect him to be recognized as a full-fledged blacksmith, to become the personal blacksmith to a noble family, or to even follow in his footsteps at all. It just didn’t seem to concern him. Perhaps his heart had broken right along with that incredibly thin katana.

Lutz was still young, but he had more than ten years of experience in blacksmithing. If they were just talking about experience as a katana smith, he had more years of training than anyone else on the continent. Presenting his skills to all those masters wouldn’t be a display of overconfidence or arrogance. There wasn’t a single lie in what he told Claudia. He was entirely confident that he was the greatest katana smith on the continent.

At the very least, he was at the moment. Five or ten years down the line, would that still hold true? After teaching his techniques to Borbus, on his deathbed no less, he had managed to step into the realm of what Lutz considered to be a first-class katana smith. While Lutz had done the finishing touches, Borbus, with a couple more years of training, could have perfected the skills required to do the same.

What about the other masters, then? Even if they didn’t share his same drive, even if they weren’t quite as skilled, a few of them would likely reach the point that they could be considered first-class katana smiths if given a few years. They would be Lutz’s equals, or perhaps his betters. If that were to happen, what would become of him? It would besmirch the name of Lutz, the katana smith. Even though it was simply a possibility that the future held, it inflicted great terror on Lutz in the present.

In that case, maybe I could just hide a few important parts of the process so they can’t catch up to me.

Lutz quickly realized that his thoughts were drifting in an unproductive direction. If he were to do that, Claudia’s plan would be ruined. If the spread of katana throughout the kingdom was delayed by the negligence of the other masters, that wouldn’t be an issue, but if it was because of his own refusal to seriously teach them, then that would be a big problem.

Lutz finally decided that he would do his best to teach them in earnest. However, he also began to understand the feelings of other craftsmen, who closely guarded the secrets of their craft. Even Lutz, who had no family other than a wife and a donkey to support, was filled with a deep, existential dread. He couldn’t imagine the pressure that a master with dozens of apprentices might feel. Trying to carefully guard the thing that set you apart from the rest was an obvious course of action.

At the end of the day, my position on keeping or sharing the secrets of my trade didn’t come from a place of kindness or open-mindedness. It was just a display of my own lack of responsibility, a lack of responsibility toward the lives of others and toward my life, as well.

Lutz felt himself being dragged down into a bottomless swamp. At times like that, Claudia’s words would always cheer him up, but she was out. Lutz thought about what she might say if she were there with him.

“There are things that only you are in a position to do right now.”

“If others are going to start training as katana smiths, you just need to keep training too. That way, they’ll never be able to catch up to you.”

She would probably say something to that effect. Lutz heard the words ring in his head with a rather convincing recreation of Claudia’s voice. Thanks to that imaginary Claudia, Lutz was finally able to calm himself down.

At that moment, he just had to make their exposition of steel a grand success. All of his other worries could wait until that was finished.

“All right.” Lutz stood up and began checking his tools and materials.

When Claudia returned that evening, Lutz asked her if his position on guarding those trade secrets really was something that was born out of his irresponsibility, and she pretty much gave the exact answer that he had expected.

Lutz nodded along to her with a big grin on his face, and Claudia cocked her head at him, wondering just what was so funny.

***

Claudia left her letter for the Count with a messenger service.

Because the recipient was a noble, the reward money was several times the usual. Not only that, but the sender was a beautiful woman. All of the messengers, who had been lazing around the place until then, suddenly shot up in a frenzy.

“We’ll make sure to have this delivered right away,” said the person at the counter, their eyes filled with a dedication to the mission and a fair bit of greed.

Claudia gave them a generous tip on top of the delivery fee and left the store behind her.

The sort of people who react that way tend to be people that I can trust.

They would surely do a job worthy of the money that she had spent. On the other hand, if she had cheaped out with them, they likely would have half-assed it. However, Claudia didn’t disapprove of that way of doing things. To be a true professional, it was important to know the value of your work.

It was a very attractive bit of work for them too. There was even a chance that Claudia would become a regular customer if they did their job well. That was likely what they were thinking.

If it were the Count sending a letter, he would likely have a knight deliver it for him. As the wife of the Count’s personal blacksmith, Claudia probably could have sent a low-ranking knight to deliver the message as well, but she had no intention of dropping by the knights’ station. They couldn’t be trusted. Even though it would be more costly, Claudia decided to go with the most reliable messenger service that she could find in the private sector.

While Claudia was just a knight-hating merchant, she had somehow found herself in a position where she was strongly affiliated with the noble class. Furthermore, her beloved husband had even received an honorary knighthood. It was like some kind of bad joke.

Claudia scratched her head, thinking about what a tangled web they had woven, then set off to visit Oliver’s workshop.

Oliver greeted Claudia with a strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation. He had previously asked Lutz whether he would be willing to teach him how to forge katana. Had Claudia come to deliver his response?

“I’ve been waiting for a good opportunity to say this for a long time...” Claudia gave him a teasing smile. “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

To Oliver, who just wanted to hear Lutz’s answer as soon as possible, that kind of phrasing was extremely irritating. However, if he were to start throwing punches there, all of his work would be for nothing. He swallowed his anger to the best of his ability. “All right, I’d like to hear the good news first.”

“The Count’s personal katana smith, Lutz, has decided to hold a demonstration of the katana-making process for all of the other masters in the domain.”

“Wait, all of them?”

“Oh, are you not happy with that?”

“I’m happy that he is willing to share his techniques. I’m super happy about that. I’d even be willing to get on my hands and knees and lick your feet right this instant. It’s just... Instead of making it into some big event, wouldn’t it be better to just secretly teach me how it’s done?”

“You have to think about the position that we are in at the moment.”

“Your position, huh?” Oliver rested his weight on the back of his chair and thought for a moment. “You can’t afford to show me any favor, and you don’t have any reason to do so in the first place...”

It didn’t seem like Lutz had any particular interest in learning any of Oliver’s techniques either. A painful admittance.

“So, you aren’t looking to put us in your debt, you’re looking to curry more favor with the Count.”

“Quite an impressive deduction.”

They wanted to turn the Shander domain into a famous producer of katana. It seemed that Oliver had picked up on that rather quickly. While Claudia felt a bit sorry to make the comparison, in terms of being able to read the flow of the world around them, Lutz was still several steps behind the other masters of the city. It wasn’t a real issue for them, though. When it came to reading the layers of intent hidden below everyday pleasantries, Claudia was more than willing to do it for the both of them.

“Teaching people that kind of thing for free can lead to trouble down the line, so you guys want to be able to say that you’re only reluctantly teaching your techniques for the sake of the Count.”

“We want to avoid people thinking that we’re a charity or showing favor to any one workshop. There aren’t many things more fickle than the hearts of men, after all.”

It seemed that Oliver might have had some similar experiences, as he just gave her a burdened smile in return. He certainly wasn’t able to say that the other masters were exceptionally moral people, of course, himself included.

“Okay, I understand. On behalf of the other masters, I give you my gratitude. Merci beaucoup, mademoiselle. Then, not like I want to hear it, but what’s the bad news?”

“I hired a messenger to deliver a letter to the Count by horseback. We can’t do anything without his approval, but he is currently in the capital. At the very earliest, it should take around two weeks to get an answer back from him. Also, while I doubt that it would ever come to this, if the Count were to reject the idea, we would have no choice but to drop this plan entirely.”

“Two weeks?!”

It was going to take far too long. For Oliver, that was a huge inconvenience. He had promised his benefactor that he would forge him a katana in a month’s time, and that time was already nearly halfway gone. If he was being honest, he wanted Lutz to teach him right then and there.

“More accurately, we need to wait for the Count’s approval, then notify the other masters and finish all the preparations for the public demonstration, so it would more likely take around twenty days.”

“That won’t do! I can’t wait that long! Is there no way that you could do it any earlier than that? Could you send word to the Count by carrier pigeon or something?”

“It would be far too rude of us to send a message to the Count in that way. Besides, there is always the danger that the pigeon would be assaulted by crows or something en route to the capital. It just isn’t as surefire as a messenger on horseback.” There was a hint of irritation in Claudia’s voice, but she didn’t go as far as to blame him for asking.

He was likely just feeling the pressure of his time constraint and was running his mouth like that as a result. It seemed that was a bad habit of his. Claudia even suspected that particular bad habit might have been one of the reasons that he hadn’t become the Count’s personal blacksmith.

“Only after procuring evenly shaped pieces of parchment, writing a long formal introduction and some seasonal greetings, finally getting to write down the actual body of the letter, and sealing it with wax do you have something that is presentable to the Count.”

“Well, I do see your point there...”

“Isn’t it good enough that you now have a real path toward learning how to make a katana? If you just honestly explain the situation to Lawrence, I’m sure he will understand.” Claudia gave him the brightest, most endearing grin.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. She really was a conniving woman. He hadn’t brought up Lawrence’s name even once, nor had he told her about how Lawrence was a friend, a benefactor, and an older brother figure to him, whom he had looked up to since he was young. In short, before Claudia had come there, she had dug up everything that she could about Oliver’s life and social connections. It wasn’t like Oliver was trying to hide anything, so it probably wasn’t too hard to find out, but still, she worked fast.

Perhaps she had brought up Lawrence’s name as a subtle warning, telling him not to do anything rash for the time being. Oliver didn’t want to cause any trouble for Lawrence, and he certainly didn’t want Claudia to speak with Lawrence behind his back.

It seemed there was little choice but to accept Claudia’s offer. At the very least, there was much to gain from doing so. Excluding the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hold a monopoly on the market, he wasn’t unsatisfied with the deal. It wasn’t like Claudia had any incentive to change things around for his sake, anyway.

“All right, I got it. I surrender. Guess I’ll just sit here and wait like a good boy, along with all the other masters. I won’t do anything until then. You have my word. But...”

“What is it?”

“Since I was the first one to drop by and give Lutz my regards, couldn’t you give me a little bit of special treatment of some kind?”

He was a persistent fellow. Claudia looked at him like he was filth tossed carelessly in the gutter. However, the merchant inside of her couldn’t help but appreciate that kind of unrelenting brazenness. There was little about Oliver that she could respect as a person, but as someone to negotiate with, he was rather interesting.

Claudia nodded to him with a smile. “When we get the response back from the Count, I’ll let you inform the rest of the masters about it. I might suggest that you tell them about how you talked the Count’s personal blacksmith into doing the open demonstration on behalf of them all.”

“That would at least put them all into my debt a bit. It would also give more weight to anything that I say in the future.”

“Exactly.”

It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Oliver coming to the workshop was what started all of it, anyway. Also, the fact that he was indeed the first master to pay a visit to their workshop meant that he likely held Lutz in the highest regard among the rest of the masters. It was convenient for Claudia to have someone who could act as a bridge between her and the rest of the masters in town too.

“I’ll be back sometime soon,” said Claudia before leaving the workshop without another word.

Left alone in the reception room, Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. While he couldn’t say that it had all gone perfectly, everything still worked out in his favor. He had no reason to hold any resentment toward Claudia and Lutz, but plenty of reasons to be grateful. Even still, he couldn’t help but bring a certain thought to the front of his mind. Oliver himself recognized it as a character flaw, but...

“I just wanted to look cool in front of him...”

Making bold promises was only cool if you could actually follow through with those promises. Oliver found that alone to be lamentable.

Chapter 7: A Gift for You, Whom Flowers Never Suited

Lutz poked around the coals in the unlit forge, half in a daze. There was no particular reason for doing this. It wasn’t the time for him to be sitting idle, but he simply lacked the motivation to do anything else.

What to do...

There were fifteen days left until the open demonstration. It was far too long a time to simply wait there with a dumb look on his face. Resting was also an important part of the job, but if he took too long a break, his skills and senses would start to dull.

He wanted to do something, but he didn’t know what that something was. At first, he thought of going back to the lumberjacks’ settlement and just focusing on doing a bunch of sharpening jobs, but Claudia stopped him. She told him that it wouldn’t be wise to leave the workshop empty during that critical time. Lutz recognized that Claudia was probably right about that, so he stayed back.

Of course, it didn’t have to go so far as Lutz being confined to the premises, but they decided that it would be best to stay inside the city walls. For most matters, that wouldn’t pose an issue.

It may be that she saw through the weakness in my resolve, though.

There was likely a part of Lutz that wanted to go to the lumberjacks’ settlement just to get away from the workshop. To forge a katana in front of so many older, veteran blacksmiths was a challenge unlike anything that Lutz had experienced before. If Lutz were to fail there, or just make a substandard katana, it would bring his name, as well as any trust that he had garnered, crashing to the ground.

Surely the other masters, who all had many apprentices, were used to forging swords while everyone around them observed their every move, but Lutz had never taken on any apprentices, so he had never experienced that before. He had always thought of a katana as something to be forged alone.

As the day drew closer, the pressure inside Lutz only grew. At times, he even hoped that the letter hadn’t reached the Count at all, then fell into a pit of self-loathing for stooping so low as to think that way.

Claudia had prepared the optimal plan for their situation, and she was running around all over the place to make sure it was successful. In that case, Lutz had to do everything in his power to make sure the demonstration went smoothly.

Shall I make something up quickly just to make sure I don’t get too rusty? If I can just put all of my focus into forging something, it should make these thoughts fly away for a bit too.

However, he still couldn’t decide on a theme for what to make. A little while back, he had deliberately forged a katana without deciding on a theme for it, but that was just to test out how it felt to use the new workshop. If he got too used to letting his muscle memory guide him, he felt like he would be unable to do anything else. He wanted the katana to hold a purpose, to be able to converse with the steel as he hammered it out.

While it might seem like a contradiction to be panicking about everything you have to do and be bored at the same time, the two feelings were better friends than most believed them to be. Lutz continued to aimlessly poke at the coals in the forge.

To be honest, he still hadn’t fully internalized the fact that he had become the Count’s personal blacksmith. That was only natural, as he had yet to even officially meet with the Count face-to-face. When he got back from the capital, would there be some kind of formal ceremony or something?

Lutz imagined what that kind of event might look like, and with it, the faces of the other people who would likely be there popped into his head.

Come to think of it, Patrick also became the Count’s personal ornamentalist, didn’t he?

While Lutz didn’t know what difference it would make for Patrick, who already had permission to do business inside the castle, he knew that it was definitely a big step up in the world for him. Surely, going over there to offer his congratulations would be the well-mannered thing to do. As they had worked together on several projects and grown a bit more casual with each other, the thought of formally offering his congratulations hadn’t even crossed his mind.

That’s probably not the right way to think about it. It’s precisely because we have gotten closer that I should be doing that sort of thing, treating that kind of formality with importance.

Lutz and Patrick were of an even social rank, both of them having received an honorary knighthood, but Patrick was still older than Lutz and had lived in the city for much longer; therefore, it was more proper for Lutz to go to visit Patrick. At least, that way was less likely to cause any misunderstandings.

Lutz figured it would be best to bring a gift for Patrick as well, but what would he like? That was a stupid question. Of course, he’d want a good-quality blade.

Lutz firmly gripped the fire poker in his hand. It was like the forge inside of him, his creative spirit, had been suddenly set ablaze.

Giving Patrick a full katana would be a bit too much to play off as a little gift. Lutz ruled out anything so valuable that it could be diplomatically gifted between countries, as Patrick would feel obligated to give him back something of equal value. Considering Lutz just wanted to give him something to offer his congratulations, giving him something that would instead put a burden on him could even be seen as rude.

On the continent where they lived, when people exchanged gifts, they often made a big deal of what they had brought for someone. On the other hand, it seemed that on that island to the east, they went out of their way to play down the value of what they had given someone, saying things like “It’s nothing special.” When Lutz heard that from his father, he wondered why they would give someone something if they thought it wasn’t anything special. If that was the case, why didn’t they get something that they could proudly give the other person? But his father corrected him, saying that it was just a way of not placing a burden on the person who received the gift.

Giving a gift with pride or humility, they were simply two different ways of expressing the same feeling of appreciation for the receiver. It wasn’t a matter of one of them being right or wrong.

If Lutz was going to give Patrick a gift, a tanto would probably be a good fit. Come to think of it, Patrick had taken quite a liking to Claudia’s aikuchi.

“All right, I’ve got it! I can feel the inspiration!” Lutz stood up with such momentum that you wouldn’t believe he had been lazily sitting around only moments before, then he lit the forge.

He melted down the iron sand to form the solid tamahagane. He then hammered it out flat and broke it into pieces. He separated out the kawagane, the harder, more brittle portion of the steel, from the softer and more flexible shingane. It was rather meticulous work, but even that process felt exciting to him in his inspired state.

He wrapped the fractured pieces of steel in paper, heated them in the forge, and hammered them together. He repeated this process of heating the steel fragments and hammering them, and as he did, a strong sense of enjoyment built up inside of him.

All this stuff about nobles, masters, being a personal blacksmith, it can all eat shit. All a blacksmith should be thinking about is hammering out steel. Everything else is as good as dog shit.

Lutz let out a laugh. He kept on hammering out the steel, his laughter refusing to subside. If someone else had walked in at that moment, they would surely have thought that Lutz had lost his mind.

By the time Lutz’s hammer finally came to a stop and the steel had embodied its desired form, Lutz had reached the pinnacle of exhaustion. Regardless, he was satisfied. He felt like he had rediscovered the very heart of his craft, the importance of pouring every ounce of himself into his work.

Lutz poured a bucket of water over his head to wash away the accumulated sweat. That time of year, the days were beginning to grow colder, but after spending the whole day in front of a hot forge, his clothes so drenched that they were sticking to his skin, Lutz found the cool water rather pleasant.

The next day, after getting plenty of rest and building his spirit back up, Lutz started to work on the finishing touches. He started by mixing together powdered charcoal and powdered iron to form a claylike paste. Then, he applied it to the blade, heated it aggressively in the forge, and quenched it in water to complete the hardening process.

The hamon could clearly be seen, and there was a gentle curve to the blade. It was more than strong enough.

Lutz glided the blade back and forth over the whetstone and continued until there wasn’t even the slightest bit of resistance.

At the end of Lutz’s hard work, he had a gorgeous aikuchi in his hands. The thing that struck him immediately about the finished aikuchi was how well-balanced it was. You could feel the weight of the blade as you swung it, but it wasn’t enough to put any strain on your wrists.

Lutz continued to swing the aikuchi over and over again in his workshop. It was easy to use, even in that kind of enclosed space. As he kept swinging the blade, his appraisal of it went from “not too bad” to “pretty damn good,” eventually arriving at “one of the finest blades I have ever forged.” If he were solely considering practicality, it might have even been number one. It was a masterpiece that was supremely suited to everyday carry.

I’m not sure if I’d want to live a life where I would have to use an aikuchi on a daily basis, though.

Lutz felt himself growing more reluctant to give it to Patrick, but his pride as a katana smith wouldn’t allow him to stoop so low as to keep the aikuchi for himself and give Patrick something a bit more plain. He had made it with Patrick in mind, so he was going to give it to him. It was as simple as that.

It was such a wonderful aikuchi that the man who made it didn’t even want to let it go. That was exactly the reason that it had value as a gift.

“Damn it... Go ahead and have it, you thief.”

Patrick was still completely uninvolved, but he ended up earning Lutz’s ire, anyway.

Lutz removed the unvarnished tsuka. It really was a fantastic aikuchi. It deserved to be named. As usual, though, nothing good came to Lutz’s mind, so he stopped thinking about it altogether. He would just have to ask Claudia if she had any ideas when she got back.

Claudia returned home a little past noon. When Lutz handed her the aikuchi and asked her to come up with a name for it, she drew it from its saya and gave it a few swings to get a feel for it. “I’m not sure how to put it exactly, but I like it.”

“Right?”

“What is this indescribable delight? All I can say is it’s fun to use—like, really fun. What is this thing?”

“It’s like when a child finds a nice-looking stick and starts swinging it around, calling it Excalibur. That’s at least the image I get.”

“Sorry, I’m not sure that I can relate,” said Claudia in a lower tone of voice, her head cocked to the side.

“You’ve never done that? You never found a nice-looking stick and pretended it to be some kind of legendary sword?!”

“What do you even mean by a nice-looking stick?”

“What?!”

Having to communicate ideas through words was a truly inconvenient reality of the world. It was impossible for women to understand the romantic ideals of men through words alone.

“Well, anyway, I think I’ve pretty much grasped the concept of this katana. How about the name Yugumo, the Evening Cloud?”

Lutz nodded deeply in response. He was right to trust Claudia with it. “That’s a great name. It’s got an elegant feel to it. Is there a reason that you settled on that name?”

“I guess I just thought about some naughty boy playing around outside until the sun started to set, then getting chewed out by his mother.”

“I have a feeling that it’s starting to lose a bit of its elegance...” Lutz let out a sigh, but perhaps such a name was perfect for an aikuchi that was so fun to swing that you never wanted to put it down. He would just have to forget to mention how its name came about when he gave it to Patrick. That was all.

***

When Lutz arrived at Patrick’s workshop and offered him his congratulations for his new promotion to being the Count’s personal ornamentalist, Patrick looked at him sideways like he had no idea what Lutz was talking about.

“Ah, now that you mention it, my apprentices were getting themselves all excited about something like that, weren’t they?”

Patrick’s disinterest in the matter was almost impressive. It wasn’t like he cleansed himself of such worldly interests or was rebelling against the social structure of the kingdom; it seemed like it had honestly just slipped his mind entirely. Why? Because he didn’t see it as fun, of course.

“Wait, just wait a second, Lutz. It’s not like that, okay? I mean, I’ve heard that I’ve been promoted to the Count’s personal ornamentalist, but it’s not like I’ve officially met with the Count to discuss it, moved workshops, or even received any special work orders. Not a single thing has actually changed for me. I almost want to go and talk to the Count myself just to confirm that I really got the job.”

Lutz couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. Lutz and Claudia had moved to a new workshop in the city and had been landed with a rather troublesome job to pull off, as well. Because of that, it all felt a bit more real to him. He could recognize a clear change in his life and his environment. If he had still been living outside the city walls in the hut by the river, perhaps he would be reacting in the exact same way.

“By the way, Lutz, do you have any new jobs for me? My golden fingers have been feeling so very lonely as of late. They want to feel the gentle curves of a pretty little katana.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a job, but I did bring a little something for you to offer my congratulations.”

“Quoi?” Patrick’s eyes widened in surprise.

Lutz pulled the aikuchi with its plain wooden saya out of his bag and placed it on the table. “It’s nothing too special, but...”

“Oh, no no no... It’s special—it’s specialing all over the place! Is it really okay for me to accept such a gorgeous gift?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t get mad if I give it a little lick?”

“Just make sure not to cut your tongue. Try to stick as close to the path of common decency as you can, okay?”

Considering Patrick was talking about running his own tongue all over such a sharp blade, Lutz wondered if he hadn’t already strayed too far off that path already. In the end, Lutz decided that Patrick wasn’t the sort of creature that could be bound by the concept of common sense, so he pushed the thought from his mind.

Patrick drew the blade from its saya and admired it in all its glory. “Oh, hi there...you’re pretty cute.”

As always, Patrick spoke in a way that was incomprehensible to most, but it seemed that he was happy with it.

Patrick stood up and gave the aikuchi a swing. His expression then changed, signaling that he had picked up on something that he found interesting. He swung it again, harder this time. Then he lunged in a stabbing motion.

It seemed to Lutz that he would keep going indefinitely if he went uninterrupted, so Lutz said, “Well? How do you like it?”

“It’s nice, really nice. It didn’t have me quite falling head over heels at first glance, but I’m starting to get the feeling that it will make a comfortable and reliable partner for me.”

“It turned out to be an incredibly easy-to-use aikuchi.”

“By the way, what is this katana’s name?”

“It’s named Yugumo, the Evening Cloud.”

“Aaahh...” Patrick thought for a moment before giving a quick nod. “Was it named with the image of a snotty brat running around outside past his curfew?”

“You could tell?” Lutz had been planning on keeping quiet about Claudia’s reasoning behind the name, but after he had guessed it so accurately, there wasn’t any real way to hide it.

How the hell had he read Claudia’s thought process so easily? A while ago, Gerhard had taken a look at Claudia’s Love Letter and seen through the love that Lutz had poured into it, as well. Perhaps there were things that only craftsmen who had lived much longer than Lutz could see.

“Considering it felt like a fun swinging stick and its nominative reference to the evening, I couldn’t help but remember the countless Excaliburs that existed in our hearts as children,” said Patrick with a big smile.

So that was how it was? Patrick might have had a point. But was that really enough to be so certain about it? In terms of being able to identify the meaning behind such pieces of work, Lutz was still far behind him. At the very least, he could say that much. Lutz was once again filled with respect and just a drop of envy toward Patrick and Gerhard. There was still so much for him to learn. He didn’t have any time to spend being full of himself.

“Also, sorry that I just left the saya so plain, even though it was supposed to be a nice gift.”

“Ha ha! What are you talking about? That’s the best part!” Patrick held the aikuchi in his hands and ran his fingers along the saya.

Even though he was just touching an aikuchi, the movements of his hands seemed illicit somehow. Perhaps it was just Lutz’s imagination. Maybe.

“To be able to do the ornamentation for such a fine aikuchi, what more could an ornamentalist desire? Oh, my little Yugumo, I’m going to make you the prettiest aikuchi ever...” Patrick continuously sheathed and unsheathed the blade, pausing to gaze at it each time. “I feel like I’m doing something so wrong...like dropping down a young boy’s underwear right in front of me.”

“When you do finally get arrested, don’t go bringing my name up, okay?”

“I would never lay my hands on something flesh and blood. I haven’t the slightest interest,” said Patrick with conviction. Looking back down at the aikuchi, his face softened again, and he continued to play with it. “I’ve seen quite a few katana now, but knowing that this one is my very own makes it all the more precious. What sort of clothes do you want to wear, my little Yugomo?” Patrick slipped back into his own little world.

Lutz sensed that he was getting into territory that he didn’t want to stick his nose into, so he stood up to take his leave.

At that time, Patrick’s head shot up like he had remembered something, and he called out to Lutz before he could reach the door. “Oh, that’s right! I’ve got to give you something too. It’s not just me that’s been promoted, after all.”

“Don’t worry about it. I appreciate the thought, though. I don’t want to make this into a repeat of all that stuff we had to go through with the peace talks.”

“If it’s the thought you appreciate...how about my lovely smile?”

“You can keep that. I’d just end up throwing it away.”

“That stings! Oh, how about a pair of earrings?” Surprisingly, Patrick actually made an appropriate offer.

“Do you think they’d suit me?” Lutz asked, still half joking.

“Stop playing around now. I’m talking about something you could give to Claudia. Lutz, have you ever actually given the love of your life any kind of jewelry or accessory?”

“While I’m a bit embarrassed to say it, I’ve only ever given her that aikuchi that I made for her.”

“I’m sure that one-of-a-kind gift was truly special to her, but still...”

“All right, in that case, I’d be very happy to receive those earrings,” said Lutz in a reluctant, slightly embarrassed way.

Patrick’s lips spread into a grin. “Very well, very well. Leave it to me. Just imagining the scene where you will be giving them to her, your cheeks red with embarrassment... That alone is enough for me to go a week without food!”

“People can’t survive on fantasies alone. Make sure to actually eat.” An ounce of worry still remaining, Lutz left Patrick’s workshop behind him.

When he got home, Claudia was there waiting for him. “Hey, Lutzy, did Patrick like your gift?”

“Oh, he was as creepy with it as ever. I’m still wondering whether I should inform the authorities about him or not.”

“So, in other words, he loved it, right?” Claudia let out a little laugh.

It appeared that no matter who you asked, everyone’s evaluation of Patrick’s character was one and the same.

***

A few days later, Lutz went to pick up the earrings from Patrick’s workshop. They were made with a mysterious gemstone that changed colors from red to blue to pink, depending on the angle at which you were looking at them.

Apparently, it had something to do with the way that the gemstone was cut, but Patrick couldn’t reveal any more as it was a trade secret of his. He went as far as to say that if he sold that technique, he could make enough money to fool around for the rest of his life.

Patrick said that the concept for the piece was the idea that a woman could wear many faces, sometimes cool, sometimes passionate, and sometimes seductive.

It was such a beautiful piece of art that even Lutz, who had never really shown any interest in such things, was completely entranced by it for a moment.

“Patrick, you really are an incredible person, you know that?”

Patrick nodded with a look of pure satisfaction. To have your work recognized by another craftsman you respected was a source of delight for anyone who was dedicated to their art.

On Lutz’s way out, he had a chance to speak briefly with one of Patrick’s apprentices, and they told him, “Our master has been in a fantastic mood lately. He’s even been teaching all of us techniques that he never showed us before. That’s all well and good, but...”

“Is there a problem of some sort? It sounds like things are going pretty well.”

“He keeps bragging about his katana every chance he gets... Master Lutz, can’t you do anything to just calm him down a little bit?”

“Sorry, no can do,” said Lutz mercilessly before running out into the street, leaving behind the apprentice, who was frozen in place by his instant dismissal.

Lutz just wanted to get home as quickly as possible, give Claudia those earrings, see the joy in her face, talk with her, gently brush her silky hair, and hold her close. It wasn’t the time to be accepting some impossible side quest.

***

“It seems like the time has finally come, huh?” Claudia waved around a piece of parchment with a smile.

It was the Count’s response as to whether or not it would be acceptable to teach the other masters of the domain how to forge katana.

“And...what did he say?” Lutz’s voice was slightly strained, contrary to Claudia’s bright tone.

“It’s written in a really roundabout way, as is typical of any correspondence with the nobility, but to summarize, after hearing that you were willing to sacrifice the secrets of your techniques—the lifeblood and fortune of any craftsman—for the sake of the Shander domain, the Count was left in utter awe of the boldness of your spirit.”

“Uh, hmmm...”

“Here, let me phrase it a bit simpler. The Count, super happy, go ahead. That about sums it up.”

“In other words, we really have to pull it off, huh?” Lutz showed Claudia a bitter grin, but there wasn’t a hint of worry in his eyes. He had already come to terms with exposing his techniques to the other masters of the domain.

Claudia gazed happily at Lutz, reassured by his visible confidence. “That’s settled, then. I’ll go over and tell Oliver the news. Are you okay if we set the date five days from now?”

“I can do it tomorrow if you want.”

“Well, we have to make sure the other masters have time to plan for it too. While we are the ones offering to give out trade secrets for free, if we told them all to show up without a moment’s notice, we might accidentally earn the resentment of some of them.”

“It’s kind of scary how easy it is to earn something you might not even remember doing anything to deserve.”

“The real scary thing about resentment is it always gets paid back with interest, and the rate is rather steep. But, not to worry, that’s why you’ve got me here to keep you out of trouble, Lutzy. You just sit back and wait.” Claudia stood up and gave Lutz a kiss on the cheek while tucking her hair behind her ear.

There was a mysterious shimmer of light emanating from the gemstone on her ear. It was the pair of earrings that Lutz had received from Patrick as a thank-you for the aikuchi.

Ever since Lutz had given them to her, she had been in a constant state of joy. She had always smiled when she was around Lutz, but that seemed to have been amplified further as of late.

It certainly wasn’t a strange thing for newlyweds to give each other a goodbye kiss when they left the house, but in Claudia’s case, it was almost like she was saying, “What do you think, Lutzy? Do I look pretty with these earrings on?” with her every motion.

Well, as long as she likes them, that’s all that matters.

Lutz watched as Claudia left the room, humming as she walked out. To be more accurate, he was watching her ass.

***

The next day, an urgent summons was sent out to all of the master blacksmiths of the city. While that would have been acceptable if it were the elder who was calling for them, that wasn’t the case. The man who called for them to gather was Oliver, a blacksmith of the same rank as the rest of them. This fueled the other masters’ suspicion and, above all, irritation.

It probably would have been okay to ignore it, but there was something that Oliver’s apprentice had told them that caught their attention, bringing them all together.

“This will prove to be a very profitable endeavor, I assure you.”

Without a single exception, all of the fifteen master blacksmiths who were recognized by the Count were in attendance, including Oliver, of course. There was no sweeter word than “profitable,” after all. Also, considering the timing, there was only one topic of discussion that could be profitable enough to warrant them all coming together. They all figured it would have to be related to katana in some way. If Oliver just came out and suggested they form a boycott because he didn’t like the attention katana were getting, he would only be embarrassing himself.

Oliver looked around at the faces of each and every person sitting at the round table, ensuring that everyone was present before standing up from his seat with a satisfied grin. “Okay, first order of business. Everyone, get on your knees and thank me.”

“Cut the shit, Oliver! Some of us are busy, you know? Surely you didn’t call us all here to demonstrate how you mastered the ability to sleep talk with your eyes wide open.”

The man who threw the first batch of complaints was Momus, a master with a particularly short fuse, who also happened to see Oliver as a major rival.

“Quite an impatient one, aren’t you? I imagine that’s about how long it takes for you to explode in bed, as well. Is that why your wife keeps throwing herself at your apprentices?”

“Ah, now I see where the profit you were talking about comes in. You called me here so I can beat you to death and take your workshop.” Momus stood up and stared Oliver down.

No one else even tried to stop them. If anything, they started egging them on, yelling things like “Go on, get him!” That kind of thing was an everyday occurrence at the Blacksmiths Guild.

The only person there who seemed to be uncomfortable with the sudden threats of violence, looking around in confusion, was the young master who had just been promoted to the post after his master died of a heart attack. Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t anyone who was going to step in between the two for his sake. The world that he had entered of his own volition was a crude and violent one. There was no need to feel any sympathy for him. If they just gave him two years or so, he would be molded into one of them too.

A loud bang suddenly drew the attention of everyone in the room. The elder had slammed his fist down onto the round table. It was a mystery how an old man, who was practically skin and bone, could still display such intimidating power.

“Give it a rest, already. If you’re going to take up everyone’s time by calling us here, at least treat their time with respect. Oliver, if you have something to say, I suggest that you get on with it. Momus too. Stop squabbling over nonsense. Unless, that is, you want me filing a complaint with the Count that says you two are being uncooperative with the other masters.” Underneath the elder’s drooping eyelids was the sharp glare of a demon. That stare alone could probably kill some smaller animals.

Oliver and Momus both quickly corrected their posture, standing up perfectly straight. They couldn’t afford to lose the title that they had worked their entire lives to achieve over something so trivial.

“Ah, um, right...” Oliver muttered. “You see, I went over to the workshop of the newly appointed personal blacksmith to the Count to officially introduce myself and...”

A few of the other masters started to let their displeasure leak out onto their faces. While that blacksmith had been picked out by Count Shander personally, he wasn’t truly of a higher rank than any of the other masters. While they were arguably related to each other, the masters of the Guild operated separately. The fact that Oliver personally went over to that blacksmith’s workshop could cause him to start to look down on the other masters in the city, as well. It could even be said that Oliver’s careless actions could tip the delicate power balance that they had been trying to maintain.

As the piercing glares of the masters around him grew more and more intense, Oliver deflected their judgment by proudly standing his ground. “In four days, the Count’s personal smith will be inviting all of us to observe his katana-making process up close!”

“What?!” All fourteen of the other masters blurted out the same question in unison.

Their surprise was to be expected. One’s techniques were something to be closely guarded. They were the lifeblood and fortune of any craftsman. There had even been a case in the past where someone had cut down and killed someone who was trying to steal their trade secrets, and the court found the killer to be justified in their actions. Considering that a personal blacksmith had been chosen by the Count for his ability to make katana, why in the world would he willingly spread those techniques to the masses? It didn’t make any sense.

“I’m the one who convinced him to agree to it. Go on, then. That’s your cue to thank me, you bastards,” said Oliver with a confident smirk.

The other masters remained silent. Eventually, it was Momus whose expression took on a color of curiosity, and he broke the silence on everyone else’s behalf.

“Are you sure he doesn’t just want to gather us all there so he can laugh in our faces and say that he’d never teach the likes of us?”

“With how severe your trust issues are, I do wonder how you never caught on to your wife’s cheating.”

It seemed like another fight was about to erupt, but the elder dissuaded them with another stare and put up two fingers. It was their second warning. They didn’t know exactly how many warnings they were going to get, but three sounded like a dangerous number.

Oliver quickly got the conversation back on track. “Anyway, he’s not the sort of guy who would get any enjoyment out of fooling people. I can guarantee you that much.”

“Not like your guarantee is worth that much to begin with...”

Everyone’s eyes gathered once again on the elder. It wasn’t like he had absolute authority over them, but they were very curious to see how he would respond to the matter.

“I think I’ll go to this demonstration,” said the elder.

“Are you sure?”

“Even if it turns out to be a load of nonsense, the only thing I have to lose is the effort it takes to drag myself there. If it comes to that, I’ll just turn Oliver into a punching bag and take out my stress on him.”

“What was that?”

The elder ignored Oliver completely and carried on. “On the other hand, if it turns out to be true, it would carry a great deal of merit for all of us. We could get our hands on new skills and techniques, completely free of cost. Can you think of a more enticing deal than that?”

“But why would the Count’s smith do something like that?”

“It is likely to ensure that the culture around katana doesn’t die out. At the moment, everyone wants to get their hands on a katana, but no one can seem to find one. If that state of affairs continues for too long, people will eventually give up and grow tired of the idea. The culture around katana would just be relegated to the interest of a select few nobles. Surely, he didn’t want to accept that.”

“So you’re saying that he wanted to teach us how to make katana so they could be mass-produced?”

In the modern world, it wasn’t unheard of for somebody to reveal the techniques required to produce something in the hope that it would cultivate wider interest in the product. However, in the kingdom, there were very few official regulations that protected the intellectual property of craftsmen, so keeping your techniques a secret was one of the only ways to protect your position in a certain market. Therefore, no one could fully wrap their heads around what the elder had said. Over half of them were still staring at him with their heads cocked in confusion.

“Who is really pulling the strings here? That’s the question we should be asking. Surely it’s not that naive Count. That man is useless, and he knows it too. His only strength is that he surrounds himself with smart people and has the open-mindedness to listen to them. At the moment, I believe that old man Gerhard is his favorite, right?”

Everyone listened quietly to the elder as he thought aloud. Oliver alone sat there with a look of frustration. It seemed that he still didn’t hold anywhere near the amount of influence that the elder had. Even he was starting to forget that it was he who brought them all the news in the first place.

“Could it be Lutz? Gerhard? No, it might even be the idea of that Claudia girl. She was a fine woman. If I were fifty years younger, I might have tried to push her down and have my way with her on the spot. Heh heh...”

“You have three mistresses and you still aren’t satisfied?” said Oliver with a look of exhaustion.

“Of course not! How could I be?! Whether it be money, honor, women, or skills, if you were born into this world and walked the way of the blacksmith, you can’t allow yourself to be satisfied until you’ve taken everything into your own hands!” The elder stood up in a burst of excitement. “Four days from now, I’ll make sure to be there. All you youngsters can do whatever you like, I don’t care.” The elder walked out of the meeting, laughing loudly as he went.

The room was left silent except for the faint echoes of laughter.

“Just how old is that guy, anyway?”

“I haven’t a clue, but...” Oliver let out a huge sigh. However, his lips twisted up into a smirk. “It just means that we’ve got a long way to go before we can let ourselves kick the bucket.”

***

It was a brisk but refreshing morning. Claudia left the house with a bucket to fetch some water. Little swirling clouds of breath escaped from her supple lips, dancing in the air before dissipating completely.

Lutz had already gathered all the water that he would need for the demonstration, so Claudia just had to get enough to use in the kitchen. She just figured that she would get that little job out of the way, but that was when she noticed an unexpected figure approaching her.

“Good morning.” The old man greeted her with a warm smile.

It was a face that Claudia didn’t quite recognize. Trying her best to recall who it could be, she returned his greeting, then she finally remembered.

“Elder, I’m afraid there is still quite a bit of time before the demonstration is scheduled to begin.”

He was the elder, the man who held the reins of the Blacksmiths Guild. While Claudia still hadn’t committed the names and faces of the other masters to memory, she made a point to remember him as a man of great importance.

“I was just looking forward to it so much that I ended up waking up a bit early today. Besides, there’s an old parable that says when a master offers to gift another their teachings, one should be there before the sun rises.”

“In that case, please come and rest inside.”

“No, no, I’m the one who decided to come here so early. I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’ll wait right here.”

“I insist. If I were to allow the elder to sit out here in the cold, it would surely bring shame to my husband’s name as well. Please, come in.”

“I see. In that case, I’ll humbly accept your kindness and wait in the workshop.” While his tone of voice said one thing, the way he scurried straight into the workshop said something else entirely.

That conniving old geezer! He was angling for that from the very beginning.

He wanted to get there before anyone else to have a good look around the workshop and secure the best seat in the house. While he was at it, he could also pressure Lutz and Claudia with guilt for making him wait.

“It seems this might not be as straightforward as we hoped, Lutzy,” said Claudia with a grin before heading back to the well.

Claudia procured water from the well, left it in the kitchen, then went back over to the workshop. There, she saw the elder, who was looking so closely at the forge and other various tools that Claudia feared he might accidentally touch them with his eyeballs.

The elder looked at them from every which way and let out the occasional “Hmm?” or “Oooh...”

He had enough craftsman’s etiquette not to touch anything without permission.

Just then, even though it was still early in the morning, Claudia heard the sound of someone knocking loudly on the door. She opened it to reveal Oliver.

“Oh dear, did I come a bit too early? Sorry about that... But since I’m here already, would it be okay to wait inside?” Oliver said, rather performatively. However, when he went inside to see that the elder had already beaten him there, he felt his whole body convulse from the shock. “Aggh, Elder...” He had been entirely confident that he would be the first person there, but that confidence crumbled in an instant.

“You’re late, young man,” the elder muttered discontentedly.

“I think that you’ll find I’m actually three hours early. Isn’t that right?”

“Well, I got here five hours early. It took quite a while for Claudia to come out of the house, though, so I spent around two hours of that waiting outside.”

“In this cold morning air?” Oliver deflected. “If you catch a cold or something because of that, you realize that it’ll make you look dumb, right?”

“What? Are you trying to walk the path of the blacksmith while holding on to your sanity? I believe that would make you the dumb one.”

Of course, while they were speaking, Oliver was also inspecting every last detail of the equipment that had been laid out.

One by one, more familiar faces began to trickle in, and each time a new person stepped through the door, they would shout, “You’re late!”

***

The bells of the city rang out as the clock struck nine.

“All right, let’s get started,” said Lutz, standing up.

He was wearing the traditional garb of an Eastern blacksmith, upper body adorned in a white robe-like garment with baggy sleeves. Those sleeves were reined in by a length of cloth that was tied around his back and shoulders. In place of his usual pants, he was wearing a dark blue hakama. While it looked much like a long skirt at first glance, it was really more like a pair of pants that was so baggy it appeared to be a skirt. Completing the tableau, wrapped around his head was a traditional cloth called a hachimaki.

Lutz’s father had brought them along when he left the island where he had trained, but the young blacksmith had never seen his father wear them even once.

“I’m sure that he brought them back for this very day.” While Claudia didn’t want to admit anything approaching surprise, she found herself in awe of how incredibly dignified her husband looked in that moment.

“I don’t hate that kind of idealism—not one bit.” Lutz smiled at her, puffed out his chest with pride, and walked downstairs to the workshop.

Sitting on simply constructed stools, all fifteen of the master smiths gathered their attention on Lutz as he entered the room.

Lutz deeply bowed his head to them in return. “It is a pleasure to meet all of you. I am Count Shander’s personal blacksmith, Lutz. As this event is rather unofficial in nature, I’ll keep this opening statement brief and get started right away.”

All of the other masters silently nodded. They weren’t there to exchange simple pleasantries either. They were there to see him breathe life into a katana. While some could see Lutz’s actions as mere impatience, the masters looked on his attitude quite favorably.

Lutz gathered up the fractured pieces of the tamahagane, wrapped them together, and heated them in the forge. When they were glowing red, he hammered them together, stretched out the steel, then folded it. He repeated that process many times over.

The other masters stared at Lutz with a piercing gaze, as if to say that they weren’t going to miss a single twitch of his wrist as he hammered into the steel.

Even a stripper probably doesn’t get stared at with such intensity...

Lutz continued to strike the steel as such trifling thoughts crossed his mind.

When he had finished working the steel, he set it to the side, gathered more fragments of the tamahagane, then began the process all over again.

“You didn’t mess something up on the first one, did you? Why are you making a second one?” asked Oliver.

Claudia, who was standing off to the side, put a finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet. “I’m afraid that we will not be able to answer any questions today. We ask for your understanding in this matter. Please don’t think ill of us.”

Oliver wanted to argue, say that he couldn’t help his curiosity, but if he got himself kicked out because of that, everything would have been for nothing. Oliver decided it was best to behave himself.

Lutz had bent the hard kawagane into a U shape and hammered the softer shingane into the shape of an I. He placed the shingane inside the kawagane and forge welded them together. By combining the characteristics of the harder and softer steel, one was able to create a katana that could maintain a sharp edge without being too brittle.

Once the katana had reached its desired shape, Lutz applied his specialized claylike paste to the blade, heated it aggressively, then quenched it in water to finish the hardening process. The water immediately began to boil, bubbles popping up on the surface, but soon, the water stilled.

“Next, I will begin to sharpen the blade. The exciting part is over, so feel free to leave any time you like.” Lutz looked around at the other masters, but not a single one so much as adjusted their posture.

Their passionate gazes spoke to Lutz.

“Go on, get on with it.”

“Show us the finished piece.”

“I want to see the sharpening process too!”

The amount of fervor that the other craftsmen displayed was surprising to Lutz. While he was only trying his best to respect everyone’s valuable time, he realized that he might have inadvertently said something rather rude. He gave them a little bow to apologize before starting to sharpen the katana.

In stark contrast to the clamorous hammering of steel, the workshop was silent except for the faint sound of Lutz sliding the blade across the whetstone. Even the sound of breathing felt like a disruption. That was how much tension hung in the air.

“And with that, it’s all finished.” Lutz removed any remaining moisture from the blade, laid a white cloth out onto the table, and carefully rested the katana down on top of it.

The other masters gathered around the table with hurried steps, admiring the finished katana.

Although it was a tool for killing people, it was an enchanting work of art. The two seemingly contradictory sentiments were beautifully melded. To the other masters, when someone talked about a sword that could be considered a treasure, they thought about gorgeous engravings in the sheath or embedding jewels into the pommel. Never once did they consider that a blade could be so impeccably beautiful all on its own. That left a strong impression deep in their hearts.

They wanted to sing its praises, but the words just wouldn’t come. What could they say after witnessing groundbreaking new techniques?

While the rest of the masters were all at a loss for words, Oliver raised his hand. “Would it be okay for me to ask a single question?”

Lutz was sitting in the corner in a state of complete and utter exhaustion, so Claudia stepped in between as if to guard Lutz from them. “As I had said before, I’m afraid we cannot answer any questions regarding the techniques that Lutz displayed today.” She directed a sharp glare at them. Anyone who would trouble Lutz when he was so tired was instantly deemed an enemy in her eyes.

“I get that. I totally understand, so stop looking at me like that. I just wanted to ask whether you would be willing to sell that katana. It’s not like someone has placed an order for it, right?”

Being backed by a wealthy merchant was a huge advantage in that kind of situation. If push came to shove, he could easily get the money from Lawrence, who was like an older brother to him.

“Hey, cut the shit!”

“Don’t try to get ahead of the rest of us!”

The peanut gallery erupted in protest, but Oliver didn’t pay any attention to them. There was no way that they would be able to afford such a thing, anyway. Oliver maintained absolute confidence.

Claudia quickly glanced over to Lutz, but he just said, “I’ll leave it up to you,” in a strained voice.

Claudia thought for a moment—not about whether she should sell it, but about how much Oliver would fork over for it.

The overall quality of that katana was far above what she had sold Oliver previously. Furthermore, everyone there was obviously in quite an excited state.

Thirty gold... No, could I push it to forty?

If she could sell it for that much, the profit margins would be insane. However, she reminded herself that if they were to sell the katana to Oliver, it could be viewed as preferential treatment. Was there any merit in such an act?

Sorry, Oliver... I can’t think of anything.

At first, Claudia had thought that Oliver might become a bit of a bridge between them and the other masters, but it seemed like they all placed far more trust in the elder than they did in Oliver.

Claudia gave him a huge smile. “While we are delighted by your offer, I would like you to think of this demonstration as a celebration of the art form. It’s no time to be talking about such material things.” She looked around the room before settling her gaze on the elder. “It is my suggestion that we leave this katana in the care of the elder as an example to reference. That way, all of the other masters could freely come to examine it, as the elder doesn’t appear to be the type of person who would refuse to allow that. What do you say?”

The first person to react to Claudia’s proposal was the elder himself, giving a vigorous nod of approval. It was a huge advantage to be able to keep it in his workshop and look at it whenever he desired. It wasn’t a bad thing to have the other masters visiting his workshop more regularly either. In fact, it would only solidify his position as the head of the master smiths in the Count’s domain. The elder also recognized that the proposal was a message from Claudia. If she was going to scratch his back, he would have to return the favor.

“Oh dear, ha ha ha... That is quite the responsibility. Is everyone okay with that arrangement?” The elder put on the face of a kind, harmless old man.

Everyone seemed to be in agreement. It was the fairest outcome. At the very least, compared to Oliver, it was far easier to ask for a favor from the elder.

“Very well then, everyone. As the sun is setting, please watch your step as you make your way home.” With Claudia’s closing words, the demonstration successfully came to an end.

The masters reacted in a variety of ways. Some excitedly talked among themselves as they left. Others leaped into a sprint as they hurried back to test out the new skills they had learned as quickly as possible. Oliver alone remained in the workshop.

“Aren’t you guys being a bit cold?” said Oliver, trying and failing to conceal his irritation with a smile.

“This whole demonstration was put on for the very purpose of not showing favor to any one workshop, don’t you remember? If we gave you special treatment, then what would the point of this all be? I believe that I managed to settle on a pretty good compromise.”

Oliver knew what Claudia was getting at. He understood her reasoning, but he still wasn’t happy about it.

“While it might sound a bit cruel to say this, don’t you think it might be best to give up on trying to be a leader among the other masters, at least until the elder retires? Try to think about what they’ll all need when the elder is no longer around.”

“The only problem is...” Oliver’s expression darkened. “I get the feeling that old geezer is going to outlive me somehow.”

Claudia and Lutz looked at each other. All they could do was quietly give a little nod.

***

In the evening, after the excitement of the day had finally dwindled down, Lutz and Claudia rested in their bedroom on the third floor. However, they weren’t lying down side by side. Claudia was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Lutz was resting his head on her thighs. It was the position affectionately referred to as the lap pillow.

“Doesn’t this feel a bit embarrassing?”

“I don’t see a problem with it. I want to help soothe you after a long day of work, Lutzy. If you really don’t like it, feel free to move.”

“These soft thighs just won’t let me go...”

“Hee hee... I thought as much. The secret to enjoying life is to be honest with your desires, you know?” Claudia gently stroked Lutz’s head while letting out a little giggle. It had been a good day. More than being happy about how smoothly the demonstration went, Claudia was just satisfied that she got to see Lutz looking so dignified in front of everyone.

“So, now that it’s all over, how do you feel about what happened today?”

Lutz put up one finger. “First, it was a worthwhile experience that should lead to prosperity in the city.” He lifted up another finger. “Secondly, I never want to do anything like that ever again.”

“Ha ha... I can’t blame you. Having to display your skills in front of veteran blacksmiths who are several decades older than you must have been a nerve-racking experience.”

“More than being nervous, it was just kind of hard to focus.” Lutz pouted as if to say it was nothing to joke about.

Claudia poked his slightly puffed-out cheeks, playing around with them. “All of your work should turn out to be more than worth it. You gave away your techniques and a katana for free, but we shouldn’t end up in the red. This is an investment.”

“Are you sure that we didn’t need to answer some of their questions?”

Lutz hadn’t pulled any punches when he made that katana, nor had he tried to hide any of the important steps. He had put the entirety of his skills on full display. Even still, no matter how closely the other masters were observing him, there were plenty of things that were difficult to understand through simple scrutiny.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. They all regularly tell their apprentices to learn through careful examination, so we’ll just have to let them put their money where their mouth is.”

“So, you want to let them experience the struggles of being an apprentice again, huh? I’m sure it won’t be easy after getting to their age.”

“What we are hoping is that they will go on to mass-produce halfway decent katana, something that just reaches the realm of being sellable. We don’t need them to start making legendary katana.” Claudia spoke with the calculating voice of a merchant. “That way, katana will spread throughout the continent, and those who desire a truly magnificent katana will come from far and wide to knock on the door of this workshop. You will receive all of the fame and honor the world has to offer you.”

It wasn’t clear to Claudia if Lutz was aware of the scale of everything that was to come, as he had already drifted into a comfortable sleep. Claudia rested her gentle gaze on his sleeping face, brushing his cheek with her fingertips.

“You did amazing, Lutzy.” As not to disturb Lutz’s peaceful slumber, Claudia simply leaned back onto the mattress and fell asleep as well. While she didn’t fully recognize it, her own exhaustion had become evident.

In that way, their eventful day came to an end. For a day so momentous that it would change the course of history, the curtains fell on such an incredibly peaceful scene.

***

Over half of the city’s masters worked straight through the night upon returning to their workshops. They wanted to test out everything that Lutz had demonstrated while it was still fresh in their minds. While they weren’t able to get their hands on the glorious katana that had come straight out of the forge, if they put everything they had just witnessed into practice and made something as close as they could, they would at least have something to serve as a reference point. In that respect, they could get a slight advantage over the other masters.

“I’ll do it. If I can just get a bit of a lead over everyone else, I’ll be at the top of all the masters in the domain. I’ll shut them all up with my pure skill. On top of that, I’ll be able to make Lawrence happy.” Oliver continued to strike the steel with his hammer, dreaming with his eyes wide open.

Up until then, when he had tried to forge a katana, he felt like he was navigating through a dark cave by touch alone. But after today’s demonstration—no, it was already past midnight, so more accurately, it was yesterday’s demonstration—he was able to start seeing the bigger picture in his mind.

In Oliver’s hands, the steel began to take on the shape of a real katana. He felt the simple joy of creation for the first time in who knew how long. Since taking on the title of master, perhaps he had mostly just been swinging his hammer out of pure habit.

Still, there was so much that he didn’t understand. Why had Lutz worked those two masses of steel separately? What difference would that make? Lutz had applied a layer of something that looked like clay to the blade before hardening the steel, but Oliver didn’t know how to utilize that technique. Was it okay to just slather it on without much thought? In the first place, was that just ordinary clay? What temperature did Lutz heat the katana to before quenching it? He didn’t know that either.

Oliver heated the katana until it was red-hot and plunged it directly into the water. After he was certain it had fully cooled, he pulled it out. When he laid eyes on the blade, though, he was utterly dismayed. Large cracks had formed along its length, and the hamon was only faintly visible. He would have liked to say that it would look a lot better after sharpening and finishing it, but that clearly wasn’t the case.

It was foolish to think that everything would go smoothly on his first try. In his heart of hearts, he knew that. Even still, while he was forging that katana, he got the feeling that it would turn out well, so he allowed himself to hope.

It felt as though the fractured katana was laughing at him right to his face, saying that he was an idiot among idiots.

If there had just been one thing he had gotten wrong, it would have been simple to redress. For example, if he had made the forge too hot, he would simply need to lower the temperature slightly next time. However, with several possible factors at play, things got a good bit more complicated. As he made adjustments to different aspects of the process, it was quite possible that he would even make changes to things that he was already doing right.

He would have to search for potential problems, make deliberate changes while forging the next katana, and endlessly repeat that process. It was like stepping into an infinitely sprawling labyrinth, without knowing if an exit even existed. Without first breaking free of that labyrinth, there was no way to set foot on the path to becoming a true katana smith.

Do I have the resolve to pull this off? I’m not of the age where I can spend my days trying this and that with the slim hope that I eventually get something right.

Oliver closed his eyes and took a deep breath.=

No, I do have it in me. I have a strong enough reason to pull myself through this.

The elder’s words replayed in Oliver’s mind.

“What? Are you trying to say that you’re walking the path of the blacksmith while holding on to your sanity?”

Next, Oliver remembered the event that made him want to become a blacksmith in the first place. When Oliver was just a boy, nothing seemed to go his way. He had no real ambition or vision for his future, so he was sent to start working under a blacksmith. One day, he was quietly sobbing behind the workshop when a young man from a merchant family called to him.

“If you learn to forge a fine sword, you’ll be popular with the women, you know?”

Hmm?

Wait, was that truly the reason behind it all? Hadn’t their first meeting been a bit more dramatic than that? Oliver searched through his memories, but there was no doubt about it. That was what he said.

They must have found each other to be birds of a feather, as they became fast friends, even though they were more than ten years apart in age. He was the heir apparent to a large merchant family, but he was kind enough to cheer Oliver up whenever he was feeling low, pushing him forward on his journey as a blacksmith. The only problem was that, even after becoming a master smith, Oliver still hadn’t the slightest bit of luck with women.

Looking back on how Oliver had spent more than half of his life, he came to a conclusion. He had been a total idiot.

Realizing this didn’t send Oliver into a spiraling depression or make him feel small; if anything, he felt refreshed, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

If I’m an idiot, then maybe it’s okay for me to enjoy life in a manner that’s fitting for one.

Oliver slapped his hands down on his knees and stood up. For his next attempt, he would make some adjustments to the temperature in his forge.

***

A few days later, Oliver paid a visit to the elder’s workshop, carrying several failed katana in his arms. The katana from the open demonstration was displayed there, but Oliver hadn’t come all that way just to see it. His real objective was to exchange information with any of the other masters who might have dropped by to reference it. At the very least, he would be able to speak with the elder about his progress.

After one of the apprentices guided Oliver to the room where the katana was displayed, he was greeted by the familiar faces of three different masters. It seemed that they had hit a dead end, as well.

After exchanging some light greetings, one of the older masters looked at Oliver and said, “Let me have a look at those.”

“Sorry?”

“Those hunks of metal you’re carrying—they’re failed attempts, right? The ones that we brought are over there on the floor. Give them a look over too, if you like.”

He was probably trying to let Oliver know that they were all well aware of why everyone gathered there, so there was no need to talk around the issue. It was the type of straight-to-the-point behavior that was typical of blacksmiths.

“Oh God, this one’s awful!”

The other masters all gathered around to take a look at Oliver’s failed attempts and started to laugh their asses off. However, they weren’t trying to demean Oliver; they were laughing because they had experienced the exact same problems.

There were large cracks that had formed in the blade.

“Ah, I figured this one out. You had your forge running too hot, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, you got me, you old bastard. By the way, this one over here is what happened when I didn’t have the forge running hot enough.” Oliver unfurled the cloth that was wrapped around one of his attempts.

There was no curve to the blade, and the hamon was barely visible. There wasn’t a hint of the strength and power that Lutz’s katana projected. It was the katana of a coward, one who feared the fire and, above all, feared failure.

The masters laughed again, but only because they could relate to that feeling too.

“Well, as long as it ain’t broken, you’ve got a chance of selling it, right?”

“You think there’d be a buyer for this shriveled-up cock of a katana? I’m getting too old for that kind of humiliation kink,” said Oliver.

“Look, I don’t like it either, but when someone comes into your workshop saying that anything will do, they just want a katana, it won’t hurt to have something lying around.”

Blacksmithing was a business, after all. There were times when you’d have to sell some things that you weren’t necessarily proud of.

Oliver couldn’t argue with his point, but he didn’t want to fully acknowledge it either, so he stayed silent.

“Don’t you think it would be better to have the forge running hotter, though? When Lutz quenched his katana in that water, it started bubbling like crazy,” said a different master.

Had it really bubbled that much? From where Oliver was sitting, he could only see Lutz’s hands. There was a great deal to gain from sharing information like that.

“But we all tried that already, and these shattered pieces of scrap metal were the result.”

“What I’m trying to say is maybe the real problem is with some other part of the process.”

“What do you think that problem might be?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have come down here to see you guys’ ugly mugs, now would I?”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. That tracked.

“A couple of days ago, I went down to Lutz’s workshop, hoping he could give me a few hints, but...” The younger master’s voice trailed off. While he was comparatively young, he was still in his mid-forties.

“Are you saying that after Lutz gave out all of that information for free, you went back there and asked for seconds? Don’t you have any pride?” There was a momentary pause. “So, did he tell you anything?”

“I was turned away by the girl with mounds so bountiful you can’t tell which are her tits and which are her ass,” the young master said, mystifyingly. “She apologized for not being able to reveal any further information.”

The other masters had held on to the hope that he might have been able to squeeze something out, but they soon deflated after hearing his answer.

“I’m sure they set pretty firm boundaries on what they were willing to teach us from the outset. I think we’ve pretty much reached that limit.”

While they all stood around trying to figure out what to do next, the elder walked in from the other room. “Oh, you’re all here again? Must be nice having that much time on your hands.”

“When we do manage to pick up on a little hint, we get busy pretty fast, I’ll have you know.”

“About that...” whispered the elder, “I’ve got a theory on why Lutz prepared two pieces of steel. I think that he may have separated the broken pieces of steel by their composition, the relatively harder pieces of steel in one pile and the softer pieces in another.”

The masters’ eyes lit up at the revelation.

“So, that wasn’t just to make sure the metal heated up more evenly?”

“That is likely another benefit of the process, but when I thought about why he would go through the trouble of forge welding two different clumps of metal shards, I concluded that it had to have something to do with the hardness of the steel.”

“But, elder, why are you willing to share that with us?” asked Oliver with a look of suspicion.

Surely, he could have benefited greatly from keeping that information to himself.

“Let’s just say that you all owe me one. If you figure something out, make sure to share that with me, as well. To be honest, this isn’t the sort of problem that can be solved without borrowing the help of others.”

The other masters gave understanding nods. After they’d been given such a crucial bit of advice, their tired eyes were filled with life once again. One by one, they said their goodbyes and sprinted out of the workshop.

“An impatient bunch, aren’t they? Just what am I going to do with them...” The elder scratched his head with a smile. As he had been cooped up in his workshop for quite some time, dandruff accumulated on his fingertips, so he clapped his hands to shake it off. “Right, better get started on the next attempt,” he murmured, teetering on the verge of insanity after staying awake for three days straight. Without another wasted moment, he returned to his workstation.

There was still a mountain of problems left to solve, but the feeling that they were inching their way toward the truth gave strength to his aging body.

The masters continued to share their findings in this way, and after a few months, you could see some blades that actually resembled katana being sold in the town’s market.

Chapter 8: The Fire to the South

Several days before Lutz put on the open demonstration, Count Maximillion Shander and Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger sat across from each other, enjoying some wine in a guest room of the royal palace.

“It seems like they plan on giving you the territory by the border as a reward for successfully negotiating the peace treaty. I believe congratulations are in order,” said Maximillion.

Beowulf’s face suddenly looked awfully grim. “You’ve got to be joking... That land has been ravaged by war for over a decade, not to mention the fact that it neighbors those barbarians. There isn’t a single thing in it for me; they just wanted to shove the responsibility of governing that territory onto someone else.” He let out a deep sigh that reeked of alcohol. He was just so tired.

“They say that challenges are often opportunities in disguise, don’t they? Knowing you, I’m sure you have some plan to turn that desolate land into a city of gold.”

“Well, either way, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s one huge, annoying pain in my ass.”

Beowulf had a plan to turn the whole situation on its head. He would open up trade with the federation. If he could get his hands on cheap spices and then sell them at a profit to the other domains of the kingdom, he would be drowning in gold. The only problem was the fact that they had been at war with that prospective trading partner for more than ten years before signing the peace treaty. Even when they finally negotiated a peace between the two countries, it wasn’t under the pretense that they would suddenly start being cooperative neighbors, but they would simply leave each other alone. The general citizens of both countries still hated each other’s guts.

“First, I’ll have to figure out some way to get along with those barbarians. I’ve got to say, they’ve really landed me with some dirty work. I feel like I’ll contract some disease as soon as I start trying to play nice with them.”

If he was looking to build a healthy diplomatic relationship with them, it might be best to stop referring to them as barbarians for a start. Alas, even if he did change the words he used for them, his disdain would probably leak through into his attitude. While those were Maximillion’s honest thoughts, he wouldn’t dare put them into words.

The thoughts and prejudices of the nobility were not something that could be changed so easily. Even if Maximillion were to warn Beowulf about his unproductive disposition, he would only earn his contempt. It was best to just keep his mouth closed.

Even in the event that Beowulf completely failed to govern that new land, it wouldn’t have any effect on Maximillion, anyway. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to worry about it until someone tried to shove it off onto him next. Even then, Maximillion had the advantage of being able to easily produce gifts that would earn the federation’s favor.

“I did try to get in contact with their king to see if we could work something out, but...”

“He didn’t agree to a meeting, did he?”

“I’m afraid not. It seems that he was so busy putting out fires domestically that he didn’t have the time to spare. It looks to me like he’s trying to reform the federation so all of the families that hold political power would officially become retainers to the royal family.”

“If he could pull that off, things might get a bit difficult.”

One of the things that had complicated the war for the federation was the fact that many of its powerful families refused to send out their troops, largely due to their strong sense of independence. They would give a variety of excuses, saying that they weren’t satisfied with the rewards being provided, they couldn’t gather together a sufficient number of soldiers, the head of the house caught a cold, their horse just gave birth... They would use anything as an excuse not to send out their troops, and as a result, the federation let several key chances at victory slip through their fingers.

That tendency only grew stronger as the war dragged on throughout the years. Even if they were to send out their soldiers, there would likely still be no change to the status quo, and it wasn’t as though they would be rewarded for their contributions, anyway. They certainly weren’t going to send out their young men to die just so the royal family could save face.

If the federation had achieved national unity and attacked the kingdom with a full show of force, the comparatively weak soldiers of the kingdom wouldn’t have stood a chance. At least, that was Maximillion’s understanding of the situation.

“It seems like the King is trying to consolidate power within the federation, and at the heart of that effort is the katana that we gave him,” said Beowulf, the tone of his voice growing darker. It had been he who suggested giving it to Kassandros in the first place, but he never could have imagined things would turn out as they did.

“Even if he claimed to be the avatar of the sun god, most people would hardly believe it. They’d probably just think he was deluded. However, with that katana, Amaterasu, in his hands, he would surely sound much more convincing. All it would take was to raise that splendid katana into the air, and most of the common people would easily be fooled.”

Maximillion and Beowulf had both been there to see Kassandros using Amaterasu. It wasn’t just some kind of flashy party trick; it was something that truly made you feel the power and authority of a king. What would happen if he were to put that power to use and fully consolidate power in the federation? That barbaric country, where small acts of domestic terrorism were seen as nothing more than a normal greeting, might actually end up being fully unified.

In other words, the kingdom would have cultivated its own greatest threat, right across the border.

“Among the more influential nobles of this kingdom, there have even been some who suggested we should have handed over the Princess instead of giving them such a powerful weapon. What’s worse, part of me can’t help but agree with them.”

“It’s unfair to judge a decision like that in hindsight. We still don’t know how they would have used Princess Listill if we had given her over. That’s why we did our best to satisfy them with a material object instead of a human life. I still don’t think we were wrong, given the information we had at the time.”

“Perhaps it was the right decision at the time. That doesn’t change the reality we are facing now.”

“No one could have predicted that katana would turn out to be such a powerful weapon. That even goes for the craftsmen who created it.”

“Whether it’s fair or not, people will shamelessly criticize your actions from the perspective of the present, not the past. That’s what it means to step out into the world.”

The King had greatly appreciated what they had done for him, but that was about the only silver lining. However, with all of the other major noble families turning against them, there was only so long they could depend on the King’s good favor.

“Lord Maximillion, don’t you go and turn your back on me now.” Beowulf’s voice carried a hint of loneliness.

In that rare moment of weakness, Maximillion could see the toll the years had taken.

***

When Maximillion returned to his guest room, his most trusted advisor, Gerhard, was waiting for him there.

“Your Grace, a message from Lutz has arrived.” Gerhard handed over the parchment, still sealed with wax.

“Ah, the man I made my personal blacksmith, yes? What could be the matter?”

It seemed like Gerhard wasn’t sure either. Maximillion opened the message and read through its contents.

“Oh!” Maximillion nodded along as he read, looking rather impressed but retaining a twinge of confusion. “Gerhard, to a craftsman, aren’t your techniques something that you want to protect with your life?”

“That would be correct, Your Grace.”

“This man, he’s saying that he wants to put on a public demonstration of his katana-making process for all of the masters in the domain.”

“What did you say?”

Maximillion handed the letter over to Gerhard, and he read through it carefully. The letter detailed how they feared that the katana boom would soon fizzle out, how they wanted to make the Count’s domain into a famous producer of katana, and how they were seeking approval from the Count to disclose Lutz’s techniques to the other masters in order to meet that end.

This is a woman’s handwriting.

Gerhard saw right through who the orchestrator of that plan was and figured it would be best to get on board with it.

“What do you think, Gerhard?”

“I think it’s an absolutely brilliant idea. The Shander domain has long prided itself as a producer of quality weapons, but in reality, we’ve only been producing slightly better weapons than the surrounding territories. It just isn’t enough to bring in merchants and buyers from far and wide.”

“So, our performance in that market is still a bit too weak to call it our specialty, huh?”

“Yes. However, if we were to start mass-producing katana, we would draw the attention of the entire kingdom. The blacksmiths would make a killing, and the ornamentalists would be delighted, as well. With an uptick in visitors, the inns and taverns would become quite lively too.”

“And I imagine the enchanters wouldn’t be disappointed either. Am I right?”

“Heh heh... It would be quite a fortunate turn of events.” Gerhard didn’t even try to deny it, allowing his mischievous grin to show.

“It sounds like it would have the potential to turn our economic situation around. Okay, I’ll allow it. I’ll write a response immediately.” Maximillion gathered his stationery on the table and quickly glided his quill against the parchment. Perhaps he was following a template that he always used when praising his retainers, as he barely stopped his hand for a single moment.

After checking the ink had completely dried, he rolled up the paper, dripped wax onto the seam, and stamped the wax with the official seal of the Shander house. With that, it was ready to be sent out.

“It may be about time we return to the domain,” said Maximillion as he handed the message over to Gerhard. “I’ve gotten His Majesty to remember my name—I even received words of praise from him. However, it seems that I still have a long way to go before I would be considered for a position among the twelve nobles. There’s likely little more that we can do from the capital. I’m starting to grow tired of staring at Lord Eldenburger’s miserable face, as well.” He remembered the old, tired expression that Beowulf had shown him that night.

While Maximillion deeply sympathized with his circumstances, the cold and calculating part of his mind as a nobleman was whispering to him, saying that there might come a time when he would need to cut ties with him.

“Yes, I believe it would be our best course of action to return home and build as much power as we can there. Namely, we should accumulate such great wealth that you can no longer be ignored.”

They gave each other a decisive nod.

Looking to send out the message as soon as possible, Gerhard approached the door, but before he could leave, someone began loudly knocking on it. When he opened the door, a knight burst into the room, completely out of breath.

“Lord Maximillion, please come to the conference room as soon as possible—His Majesty is calling for you!”

“It seems like it’s an urgent matter, but I’m afraid I must ask you what the subject of the meeting would be. Please, inform us, even if it’s only to the extent that you are permitted to.” As Maximillion’s most trusted advisor, Gerhard couldn’t allow him to leave without at least knowing what the meeting was about.

The knight glared at Gerhard, but he seemingly decided that starting a fight there would only be a waste of time and energy. “The third prince of the federation has arrived at the palace in the hope of seeking political asylum.”

“Huh?!”

What was that knight saying? Maximillion just couldn’t understand it. The one thing he did understand was that he would have to set off for the conference room that very instant.

***

“I, Maximillion Shander, have arrived as per your invitation.”

Entering the room, he saw that the only other people there were King Rathbard and Marquis Beowulf Eldenburger. Eleven seats of the roundtable were completely empty. There were two members of the royal knights standing guard, but they weren’t included in the Count.

“Am I the only other person who was called here? Or are there others that still haven’t arrived?”

King Rathbard slowly shook his head. “I will speak to the twelve nobles later. Before that, I would like it if the three of us could discuss this issue.”

He likely wanted to first speak with the people who were most central to the peace talks.

One of the royal knights brought over a chair for Maximillion. “Please, have a seat.”

There was no shortage of empty seats around the table, but he was probably suggesting that it would be improper to sit in any of the twelve nobles’ seats without permission. Still being treated as a lower-class noble after receiving a personal summons put a damper on Maximillion’s mood. He understood that it would be a massive headache if one of the twelve nobles were to criticize him for carelessly using their seat, but he couldn’t help but feel what a cold, dark place the royal palace was.

“Lord Maximillion, how much have you heard?” asked Beowulf.

“I’ve just heard that the third prince of the federation has come to claim political asylum. That’s all.”

“I see. Right now, though, that runaway child isn’t our main point of concern. The real issue is that what he told us lined up with information that we have received from some of our spies.”

A prince of an enemy nation had come to the kingdom to claim asylum. No matter how you looked at it, that was a pretty big deal. Maximillion looked at Beowulf in confusion.

Beowulf returned his stare with a voice so spiteful, it was as if he were cursing the entire world. “The barbarian king, Kassandros, has been assassinated.”

“What did you just say?! Who was the culprit?”

“Probably the exact person that you would first suspect.”

“The second prince of the federation... Arsames?”

“Almost certainly. He was sighted sitting on the throne with Amaterasu in hand. If he wasn’t the man behind it, it would sound like some kind of joke.”

“So that buff geezer really could be killed, huh?”

Watching that sword dance, Maximilian couldn’t help but feel like Kassandros was overflowing with more life than anyone else, even though he was the oldest person out of the thousands in attendance.

“It appears that he died of disease. He must have picked it up from one of the thirty or so crossbow bolts sticking into his body.” Beowulf gave him a sarcastic smirk that said, “That’s the story they’re going with.”

“So now, the federation has fallen into a state of panic and uncertainty?”

“About that... It seems that things are surprisingly calm over there.”

“After having their king assassinated?”

“Perhaps this is what people tend to call a cruel trick of fate. The very thing that Kassandros boasted to be a symbol of absolute authority, Amaterasu, ended up falling into Arsames’s hands. As a result, it validated his claim to the throne. There is currently some domestic instability, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s looking to start an uprising either.”

“How should we respond?” said Maximillion nervously.

That was when King Rathbard broke his silence. “It isn’t a matter of how we should respond. We can’t respond. The peace treaty states that we can take no military action against the federation for the next five years.” His every word carried enormous weight.

“Ah...”

“If we were to send troops now, taking advantage of the current instability, then the empire, which acted as a witness to the treaty, would have no choice but to intervene.”

“So, in short, there’s little action that we can reasonably take... Had Arsames been planning this coup since the peace talks started?”

“Ah, regarding that...” Beowulf looked up at the ceiling as though he were waiting for a message from God. “It seems that it was entirely impulsive. He just kind of...did it.”

“He just...did it?”

Could someone just murder their father and steal the throne on a mere impulse?

“That handsome son of bitch, if he had just waited a little longer, the crown would have rolled right onto his head, anyway.”

“I had heard that he was the second prince, though? Who held the right to succession?”

“The first prince developed a disease that affected his vision and became a monk or something. Of course, he also gave up his right to succession. It seems like he even gave Arsames his full support. They’re such good brothers that I can’t help but feel a bit jealous.”

“So, Arsames’s position was already quite stable, huh?”

“The only issue is that the first prince and the third prince are the sons of Kassandros’s lawful wife, but Arsames is the son of a concubine.”

If they took the lineage on his maternal side into account, things would get a bit messier. As a king, it was your duty to leave behind an heir, but if you left behind too many potential heirs, it could spark the flames of conflict. It was a problem as old as time itself.

“My best guess is he was planning to pass the throne to the third prince. He would send Arsames out to work and carefully raise the third prince in the safety of the palace. That was where the next problem occurred. The third prince grew up to be a spoiled brat who was completely ignorant of the world around him. As a result, the other influential families of the federation fully backed Arsames.”

Having a total idiot rise to the throne was a death sentence for their retainers, as well. Especially considering how much the different territories of the federation valued their independence, they likely cared far more about competence than the purity of royal blood.

“In short, with Kassandros at such an advanced age already, if Arsames had simply waited for him to die or retire, he would have certainly been named king. He probably figured it would happen in the next five to ten years or so.”

Maximillion started to see the bigger picture. Furthermore, he understood Arsames’s impatience. “I’m sure he felt he couldn’t wait much longer. He must have seen how completely full of life his father was at the signing ceremony and thought to himself: ‘Will that man really die in a few years’ time?’”

With the great katana Amaterasu in his hand, power was coursing through his body. He even set out to complete the nigh-impossible task of fully unifying the federation. It certainly didn’t give the impression that he planned on dying anytime soon. Arsames probably figured that his father would still be sitting on the throne ten, even twenty years later. If things refused to go his way, there was a chance that he would meet his grave before ever ascending to the throne. Those concerns likely built up inside of him more and more as of late.

“I know they said that geezer just liked to gather up all those women to sleep next to, but I can’t imagine that he wasn’t doing the deed. He just seemed that full of life.”

“Lord Beowulf, may I remind you of whose presence we are in?” said Maximillion, warning him not to say anything too crude in the King’s company.

“You’re right. I apologize. What I’m trying to say is, do you think it would have been possible for the King to produce a fourth heir?”

“He was over seventy years old, you know?”

“It’s not like such a thing has never happened before. Either way, whether he really could or not wouldn’t be the issue. I’m saying that thought probably at least crossed Arsames’s mind.”

It didn’t seem like his father was going to die anytime soon. He would simply grow older, pointlessly waiting. It was also said that parents doted the most on their children when they were older. That was plenty enough reason for Arsames to panic.

“However, cowering in the shadow of a child that has yet to even be born feels a little...”

“Lord Maximillion, it seems to me that you hold a kind of relaxed complacency toward such matters. You don’t know how easily someone with a desire for power and a heart filled with suspicion can turn into a monster,” said Beowulf, a dangerous look in his eyes.

Coming from someone who murdered their own brother to become head of his house, his words held great weight.

“In that dark pit of suspicion, Arsames must have come to a realization. With a five-year armistice in place, the birth of Amaterasu, a new symbol of authority, and the influential families of the federation at odds with the King, all of the things needed to stage a coup were firmly in place.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if a good amount of pressure came from the influential families that supported Arsames, as well. They probably came to him, asking if he planned to just sit back and watch their independence being taken from them.”

“So, he’d even be able to rationalize his actions as being for the common good. With that many things falling into place for him, it wouldn’t be unusual to interpret it as the guiding hand of God. He could do it all under the old, moldy banner of a holy war.”

It probably wasn’t until after he killed his father that he realized that it wasn’t the light of God that guided him, but the incessant whispering of the devil. Or maybe he was still trapped in that sweet, deluded dream.

“Anyway, everything that we’ve said up until now is mere speculation, but I can’t imagine that it is too far from the truth.”

“I’m in agreement. By the way, what are we planning to do with the third prince?”

“We’re currently entertaining him in his own private room in the palace.” From Beowulf’s tone of voice, you could tell that he didn’t think very highly of the Prince. “That idiot, can you guess what he said when he turned up here? He said he wanted to marry Princess Listill and start a government in exile from this palace.”

“Just what merit would our kingdom have in allowing that?”

“He came in with a smug grin, saying that it would give us an excuse to break the treaty and invade the federation. At least he has a sense of humor. Not that any of us were laughing, though.”

They had both only just established a tenuous peace after years of being weakened by war. Bringing the kingdom a spark to reignite the fires of war was nothing but a nuisance.

“If he had suggested something like that ten years from now, after the armistice had ended and we had been able to fully recover from the losses we experienced, I could see some value in such a proposal, but now? Now of all times? There couldn’t be a worse time to talk about something like that. That prince has no political sense whatsoever.”

“I can see why the other influential families of the federation supported Arsames.”

“Also, might I add that the third prince left his wife behind when he defected.”

“Really? What a jerk...”

After leaving his wife behind like that, he had the nerve to waddle up to the palace of an enemy kingdom and ask to marry their princess? Where did someone get that kind of confidence?

At its heart, politics wasn’t a system where talented people received power and always figured out the optimal course of action to take. It was more like a mixture of righteousness, desire, anxiety, and incompetence, all thrown together in a huge, boiling pot straight out of hell. Nothing that was cooked in that manner could come out tasting good.

A dull bang rang out in the room. The King had slammed his fist down on the table, drawing Maximillion’s and Beowulf’s attention. As they had talked through most of the important subjects of debate, it was the King’s signal that he was about to give his final decision on the matter.

“The only thing we are capable of doing for now is to quietly observe how things play out. As for the treatment of our new guest, that will depend on his behavior. I must insist that neither of you take any reckless action.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The two of them bowed their heads deeply, bringing the meeting to a close.

Until the situation calmed down a bit, or at least until there was a decision on what they would do with the third prince, Maximillion would likely remain unable to return to his domain.

He let out a sigh as he walked down the hallway to his guest room. He had certainly gone up in the world after getting closer to Marquis Eldenburger, but nothing had come from it except more trouble. The nectar of power was sweet, but it seemed like it wasn’t the healthiest thing to consume.

It wasn’t until a week later that a knight, serving as a messenger for Prince Arsames, arrived at the palace gates.

***

Maximillion recognized the man who appeared in the King’s court.

The man introduced himself as Gwynn. He was the knight who had been sent to inspect the enchantment of Amaterasu and had been the one to inform Kassandros when the enchantment was finished.

Was he not a trusted vassal of the previous king?

Why would he, of all people, be working under Arsames? If anything, wouldn’t Arsames be the man whom he should be directing the tip of his blade at?

Also, when Maximillion last saw him, he seemed to have a notably bright and extroverted disposition. The man before him had a grim demeanor, as if his whole body were wrapped tightly in shadows. It was like an entirely different person who happened to share the same face.

While Maximillion had his suspicions, he didn’t let it show. The only people who were permitted to speak in such a setting were the King and Beowulf. Maximillion was just furniture in the room.

“We would greatly appreciate it if you were to hand over the third prince of the federation into our custody.” After exchanging some simple greetings, Gwynn got straight to the point of his visit.

There was little other reason for him to have come all the way there, so it came as no surprise. They had discussed the matter beforehand. In a conversation that lasted no more than five minutes, they’d decided that if someone were to come for the third prince, they would gladly have them take out the garbage.

Beowulf took a step forward and spoke on behalf of the King. “There are no asylum seekers in this palace, I can assure you.”

“That is a surprise...”

“However, if you are looking for a certain prince who wandered in here as a tourist, I will gladly lead you to his room.”

Beowulf simply changed the language used to describe the situation. While he was aware the whole thing felt like a bit of a farce, it wouldn’t be a good look for the kingdom to so easily hand over someone who had come to seek their assistance, so he was forced to change the narrative.

It was only politics, as stupid as it was.

“Your Highness, I thank you for your great kindness and understanding.” Gwynn’s every movement carried elegance and grace.

Under what pretense have we been calling these people barbarians?

Maximillion started to question whether the kingdom’s hatred for the federation was truly deserved. If it were at all possible, he would have made that man into one of his retainers in an instant. That was his honest impression of Gwynn. At the very least, he was a far cry from being some wild barbarian.

“Well then, Gwynn, now that the fighting has finally come to an end, I believe that we should move toward more friendly relations between our two nations, wouldn’t you agree?” said Beowulf. This was where the real negotiations would begin. In return for handing over the third prince, what could the federation do for them? That was the real meaning behind his words.

“We had long desired an end to that war, as well. We intend to return at a later date to pay you a tribute as a show of good faith.”

“That would merely be a singular display of friendship. What our kingdom desires is a long and prosperous peace between our nations.”

“So, what would you suggest?” said Gwynn with some hesitation.

“Now that the situation on the border has calmed down, I would propose we strive to turn that area into a grand trading hub.”

Of course, Beowulf had no intention of stopping there.

“I’m afraid that I don’t have the authority to decide on such a matter alone. I would have to return to the federation so we could carefully consider the proposal.”

“Let’s not close off this conversation too quickly now, Gwynn. I would find it hard to believe that this possibility hadn’t crossed King Arsames’s mind. Surely he granted you some authority on the matter or told you how to respond if the topic was brought up.”

Gwynn had come to request that the kingdom turn over an asylum seeker. The kingdom, meanwhile, insisted they couldn’t agree to such a thing without getting something in return. If he had to return without his quarry, in order to organize a suitable trade, Gwynn’s reputation would become that of a useless functionary.

Arsames was a skilled diplomat, or at the very least, he seemed to pride himself as one. There was no way that he hadn’t thought the situation through.

If Gwynn had things his way, he wanted to go straight back to the federation without making any promises on his end. He didn’t want to bring home the seeds of unnecessary trouble, but it seemed that things just weren’t going to go that smoothly.

There was one more thing that caught Gwynn’s attention. Beowulf had said King Arsames. That could be seen as a sign that the kingdom was ready to accept Arsames as the king of the federation and treat him as an equal partner if they were to negotiate a trade agreement.

“Regarding opening up trade relations with the kingdom, His Majesty King Arsames said that he would be willing to agree to a trial period. If there are no apparent issues during that period and we project that it will bring prosperity to our nations, then we would agree to naturalizing trade in full.”

“That seems like a rather cautious approach... However, considering our relationship up until now, I suppose that’s the obvious course of action.”

“It’s quite difficult to shake hands that are covered in each other’s blood.”

They needed to let that blood wash away. It would surely take time and some compromise on both sides.

While they couldn’t secure a trade deal right then and there, they were at least able to get their foot in the door. Deciding that it was the right time to back down, Beowulf gave a nod to his lord and retreated to his side.

“Gwynn, you have done well,” Rathbard said in a dignified voice. “This has been a very productive meeting. Feel free to come again whenever you please. My royal knights will lead you to the Prince’s room.”

Two knights in well-polished armor stepped forward. “Please, right this way.” One of them walked in front of Gwynn and the other behind him.

As Gwynn was about to leave the King’s court, Rathbard called out to him. “Ah, wait one moment. I wanted to give you my condolences for the loss of King Kassandros. He was truly the embodiment of a hero. We had our own troubles because of that, but meeting King Kassandros at the signing ceremony, I couldn’t help but see him as a man worth my admiration.”

Beowulf and Maximillion both gave the King a confused look. He hadn’t told them that he would say anything like that when they discussed their plan beforehand.

Gwynn’s grim expression relaxed into a gentle, earnest smile. That appeared to be his true nature. “Thank you for such kind words. I’m sure my king would have been delighted to hear those words.” Gwynn straightened out his back, then walked out of the room.

As they all watched him leave, they saw the majestic figure of a proud knight, a man who wasn’t ashamed to stand before anyone.

***

“Your Highness, why did you say such a thing?” said Beowulf, after Gwynn had left the room.

“Hmm...” King Rathbard thought for a moment. It wasn’t a feeling that was easy to put into words. “I wanted to know what was at that man’s core.”

“His core?”

“At first, I thought that man had feigned his loyalty to Kassandros and ultimately sold him out. It appears that I was wrong. He is a man of fealty and conviction, a loyal vassal. He remains loyal to Kassandros in his heart. It was rude for me to have doubted him.” Rathbard seemed truly apologetic.

A loyal vassal... If that was the case, something still felt off. Maximillion tilted his head in bemusement. “Why would such a loyal man be running around doing busywork for Arsames? If he still viewed Kassandros as his lord, wouldn’t that make Arsames his enemy?”

He just couldn’t get his head around it. Even though it seemed to be a matter of little importance, Maximillion couldn’t let it go.

“Of course,” said Beowulf under his breath. “Do you think he might be planning to get hold of the third prince to help him challenge Arsames for the right to succession?”

Rathbard and Maximillion both nodded at the realization, but after a few seconds, their faces went serious again.

“Would he really back that idiot? It would be better to place a crown on a stray dog and call it king. At the very least, a dog wouldn’t actively get them into trouble.”

“Lord Beowulf, that’s simply unbelievable, even for a joke.”

“My apologies. Halfway through saying it, I started to realize how dumb that would be.” Beowulf looked away, but couldn’t hide his disdain for that prince.

“I guess I’ll have to open up a meeting of the roundtable to explain everything that’s happened to the twelve nobles. I’m sure some of them will raise complaints about not being informed prior to this, though...” Rathbard furrowed his brows.

“Are you not fond of them, Your Highness?”

“No matter how competent each of them is on their own, when you bring twelve...shall we say, willful individuals together, even simple tasks can turn into complex issues. Three people is just right.”

“Although, if you earn too much of their displeasure, that could present some difficulties down the line, as well.”

“It truly is a headache. Even knowing that several of them carry thirty pieces of silver in their pockets, I still have to treat them as usual. That’s the real challenge.”

Thirty pieces of silver was the boon for which one of the Apostles traded the Messiah’s life. It was a common expression to describe someone as a traitor.

“I’m sure that many of them are just as shocked as we are. They had been bought off by Kassandros, but then their sponsor suddenly got assassinated.”

“Seeing their dumbfounded faces is the only thing that I’m truly looking forward to.”

Rathbard and Beowulf put on a terrifying grin. They both just wanted to laugh off all of the other bothersome matters that were waiting around the corner.

It seemed like there was little more to discuss, so the King entered his closing statements. “In any case, all of this chaos has proven to be very beneficial for our kingdom. With Kassandros no longer on the throne, there is less threat of them consolidating power, and we’ve started down the path to naturalizing trade. It is all rather favorable news.”

Beowulf and Maximillion nodded, deeply in agreement, and the audience with the King came to an end.

They would quietly observe the situation as they prepared to open up trade. That became their official policy on the matter.

Gwynn returned to the federation’s palace for the first time in ten days and spoke with the newly crowned King Arsames in his private quarters. The third prince, Weneg, whom Gwynn had brought back from the kingdom, had already been placed under house arrest with several guards assigned to him. Gwynn had come to inform Arsames of everything that had occurred.

Arsames’s cheeks had become bony, and there were pronounced, dark bags under his eyes. The man who was once treasured in the federation for his striking beauty had undergone a drastic change.

Even before such a sight, Gwynn didn’t so much as lift an eyebrow. “You have truly taken on the face of a king.”

“I wonder, was that intended as a compliment?”

“I can say for certain that I find it preferable to the face of a handsome yet overconfident young man.”

That was far from the appropriate tone for speaking with one’s lord, but Arsames didn’t reprimand him; he just smiled in resignation. “Every night, I see my father in my dreams.”

The father that he had killed... He had barged into the conference room with his troops and opened fire, countless crossbow bolts opening holes in the once great man. Seeing that his own son had come to take his life, Kassandros only showed a moment of confusion before giving Arsames a smile so overflowing with confidence that you would think him invincible.

Could Arsames die with such dignity? It wasn’t likely. In truth, he loved and respected his father, but it was all too late now.

“In your dreams, does he berate you for your actions?” Gwynn asked, stirring the king from his reverie.

“No, he gives me advice on all of my political errors, laughing all the while. The funny thing is it’s all such practical advice that even though it’s aggravating, I can’t argue with him.”

“I’m not sure what to say... That must be difficult.”

“It would be easier if he would just come out and curse me or scold me for what I have done.”

While they were talking, Gwynn held a thought in the back of his mind. There was simply no way that the ghost of the late king would come to Arsames every night to give him advice. Every one of those revelations was something born of Arsames’s own mind. Arsames’s own ideas about the current state of domestic politics would simply be processed in his dreams through the visage of Kassandros. There was some part of him that still couldn’t make such big decisions without the illusion of his father’s support.

Such a pitiful thing it is...

Arsames had a certain beauty that drew people to him. He was also a talented leader. However, his vision could at times be somewhat narrow. He seemed to think that it was an obvious course of nature that things would go his way, and on the rare occasion that they didn’t, it would send him into a state of paralysis. It was a bad habit of his.

If he had spent another five to ten years learning under Kassandros, he likely could have worked out that fatal flaw of his. He had the makings of a ruler who could have even exceeded his father. Now, however, that bright future had been snuffed out. That bridge of glory that had been laid out before him was destroyed by his own hands.

It wasn’t as though Gwynn couldn’t understand the slurry of emotions within Arsames, leading up to his assasination of the King. At the start of everything, it was King Kassandros himself who had changed. Filled with life and power after receiving the great katana Amaterasu, a sacred blade like none other, Kassandros began to change the direction that the nation was moving in. Instead of leaving it to an heir, he decided to take on the job for himself. His ever-competent heir, his beloved son, turned to nothing more than another pawn in his grand game.

Precisely because he was such a talented man, Arsames noticed these changes in his father, and he could clearly see the future that awaited him. He would forever be relegated to being just a pretty face, never getting to fulfil his destiny as a ruler.

“It came as quite a surprise to me that you were the first one to come to my side after I killed my father. I must say, I had my suspicions that you were planning some kind of trap.”

“It seems to me that those suspicions have yet to fade.”

“Heh heh... Of course.” As if to get back at Gwynn for his remarks, Arsames gave him a grim, unnerving smile.

Gwynn began to speak. “My only desire is to see the federation grow prosperous,” said Gwynn, his voice strained as if he were opening a heavy stone door. “If King Kassandros were still alive, I would have fought with my life to protect him from you. But as things are now, if I were to strike you down, this nation would fall into chaos.”

“For the sake of the country, you’ve chosen to side with the object of your resentment, huh?”

“Indeed.” Gwynn kept his answer brief. He knew that there were many who called him ungrateful or even a traitor behind his back. Gwynn himself would have much preferred to have fought alongside Kassandros and died in battle. Unfortunately, he survived. As he was still alive, there were things that he needed to do. That was his way of showing loyalty to his king’s great legacy. Even if he had been permitted to die alongside Kassandros, would that have done any good for anyone? Gwynn didn’t believe so.

“There’s no reason to blame yourself or dwell on how things would have been different if you were there. We would have just chosen a different time to target him.” Arsames spoke the truth from his heart, hoping that it would give Gwynn even a little comfort.

If Gwynn had been present that day, he surely would have jumped in front of Kassandros, allowing the bolts to pierce through his body instead. Of course, he would have died. However, it would have given Kassandros the time to draw Amaterasu. If all of the soldiers were to be exposed to that katana’s brilliant light, who could say how the wheel of fate would have turned?

“Gwynn, there’s another thing I must tell you. While you were away in the kingdom...” Arsames looked down to his feet. “My older brother took his own life.”

“Huh?” Gwynn thought that nothing could have surprised him anymore, but even he was at a loss for words.

Arsames’s older brother, the first prince of the federation, born to a different mother, had thrown away his claim to succession due to a disease that affected his eyesight. In the end, he left the palace to become a monk. As brothers, they had always been close since early childhood. The reason Arsames had dedicated himself so fervently to his studies and practice of martial arts was due to his brother’s kind words of encouragement.

Did you kill him?

Gwynn swallowed down those words. There was no way Arsames would have done such a thing. He didn’t want to believe it was possible.

“My brother was always an ally to me.” It seemed that Arsames had been able to deduce what question was on the tip of Gwynn’s tongue. “He reprimanded me for what I had done to our father, but even then, he put my well-being before anything else. This is his will.” Arsames held out a piece of parchment.

The will must have been penned by someone he trusted. On the edge of the parchment, there was a signature that appeared to be written with a finger dipped into ink. There was no mistaking it. It was the first prince’s signature.

In his will, he detailed that there had been a movement to return him to secular life so he could be a contender for the throne. Not wanting to be used by such people as a pawn in their schemes, he took his own life.

My beloved little brother, keep following the path you believe in.

That was the final sentence.

Gwynn silently rolled up the parchment and handed it back over to Arsames. He took it up in his hands as if he were holding on to his dearest treasure, then tucked it safely away into a drawer.

“Do you have any regrets?”

“I have no time for regrets,” said Arsames, voice carrying an undeniable power. His body appeared to be weak, but this belied the strength which shone in his eyes. He would never be able to spend another night in peaceful slumber. This was the cost of his ambitions. “I’ll kill my younger brother too. Now that my older brother has killed himself, I have no reason to keep that unsightly pig alive.”

There was an equal danger in letting either of his brothers live. Both could be useful catalysts for an uprising. However, while the elder might have been supported for his wisdom, the younger’s utility began and ended with how easy he was to control.

“I still haven’t settled on when or how, but I have decided that he will die. Pass that message onto Weneg for me.” Arsames waved his hand as if he were shooing away a fly.

Without showing a hint of displeasure at Arsames’s rude demeanor, Gwynn bowed his head deeply, then left the room.

Even he needs time to grieve...

Such thoughts continued to swirl around Gwynn’s head as he made his way to the room where Weneg was being confined.

***

“You traitor!” The obese man punched Gwynn in the face.

He was fat right down to the tips of his fingers. It was like being punched by a pillow. The fact that it barely hurt at all made the situation all the sadder.

Gwynn continued to take the punches, not even attempting to block or dodge them. He had told him that he had been sentenced to death. The third prince of the federation, Prince Weneg, attacked Gwynn in his rage.

Eventually, either Weneg became exhausted or his fists began to hurt, and he pulled away, huffing as he attempted to catch his breath.

“Of course, I understood from the start that Arsames would try to have me killed. That’s why I fled the country and proposed that stupid deal with the kingdom. That was my only hope at extending my life!”

Weneg had done his best to appeal his worth to the kingdom, but he had only been met by frigid smiles.

“It doesn’t look like he’s seeing things clearly.”

“He has no political sense.”

“He’s probably just an idiot, right to his very core.”

It was all the truth, but doing anything at all was still better than silently letting himself be killed off. It was the first time in his life that he had felt that level of desperation. That was why things had ended up as they had.

“Gwynn, has Arsames decided on the method of my execution?”

“It is still to be decided, but I would imagine it will likely be death by decapitation.”

When it came to public executions, people loved a good decapitation. It was basically common sense at that point.

“I see... So Arsames wants to see me suffer?”

“I believe that the pain should only last an instant.”

“Are you serious?” Weneg targeted Gwynn with an awful glare. “Yeah, I’ll be fine if the blade cuts through in one go. It’ll be over in an instant. But that hardly ever happens now, does it?!”

The bones of one’s neck were sturdy—they had to be to support the head. Even an experienced executioner had trouble chopping off someone’s head in one swing. It was rather common for the blade to stop halfway through someone’s neck, or for the executioner to repeatedly hack into someone’s shoulders, thus prolonging the pain. Even with a skilled executioner, if the person on the chopping block wouldn’t stay still, then all of that skill would be for naught. The criminals would cry out in pain, splashing blood and excrement about as they flailed for their life. That was the messy truth of beheadings.

“Do you really think that I will meet a painless death?” Weneg pointed at his own neck. It was so fat that Gwynn struggled to see where his face ended and where his neck began.

“Aaah...” said Gwynn, catching on to Weneg’s meaning. He simply couldn’t imagine that head coming off in a single chop.

Weneg began to tremble in fear. He was so afraid of the coming day of his execution that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was afraid of the blade carving into his neck over and over until it finally severed. Moreover, he was afraid of pathetically crying in front of the citizens of the federation as he writhed about in pain.

If his brother had still been alive, would that have helped? No, considering that he took his own life without any regard for Weneg’s safety, he likely thought that it was best for the country if they both weren’t around to start any trouble.

“Tell me, Gwynn, where do your loyalties lie? Have you been bought out by Arsames?”

“My loyalty belongs to this great nation, as it always has.”

Weneg grabbed onto Gwynn’s arm, tears welling in his eyes and snot dripping from his nose. He no longer cared about appearances. “In that case, I beg of you! Please, listen to my final request, the request of Kassandros’s son.”

“As long as it isn’t a plea for your life...”

“I wish to die painlessly, with my dignity intact. Please, find an executioner that can cut straight through a neck as thick as mine!”

“If you wish to die painlessly, wouldn’t it be better to just drink poison?”

“I don’t know... If it is the will of the people, I believe it’s the duty of royalty to die before their subjects.” Weneg’s words carried a solemn loneliness.

Ah, I had almost forgotten. This man is unmistakably one born of royal blood, the son of Kassandros.

Gwynn made a promise to himself. This would be his chance to show his gratitude to his late king.

“I’ll see that it is done. I will arrange for the greatest executioner and supply him with the sharpest sword. Also, I will insist to King Arsames that the execution must be delayed until those conditions are met.”

“You have my thanks. Arrange an execution that will allow the subjects of this nation to feel proud of me in my final moments. It hurts that my death will be my only legacy, though...”

“Most people in this world aren’t even afforded that honor.”

Weneg chuckled through his nose. “I’m not sure whether to feel grateful or despondent.”

After Weneg had calmed himself down, Gwynn made his way back to Arsames’s private quarters. He would be the one to arrange the death of his king’s son. Whether that could truly be called loyalty or not, Gwynn wasn’t sure. The only thing he knew was it was something no one else could be trusted with.

Chapter 9: A Flower in the Mud

In his workshop, Lutz was surrounded by axes. A veritable mountain of axes, a sea of axes, a flood of axes, even. In truth, that number amounted to around thirty.

Lutz had forged a contract with the lumberjacks to sharpen their axes on a regular basis, but they said, “We can’t be making the personal blacksmith of the Count come all the way out to the settlement for our sakes.” So, they traveled all the way to the city and brought their axes to Lutz, a convenience to be sure. That didn’t change the fact that there were just so many of them.

Lutz knew they were only trying to be polite, but it was an event that made him rethink the purpose of such a courtesy. Although, he did feel bad that he hadn’t been able to go to the settlement for a while either, so he had to make it up to them somehow. If he were to ask himself why so many blunt axes had built up in his workshop, everything would point back to his own actions.

While the sheer number of them was intimidating, Lutz didn’t hate being able to focus on the sharpening process either. As of late, he had been tasked with insane jobs such as forging a peace offering for the king of an enemy nation and putting on a katana-making demonstration for all the masters in the city. It had all been so exhausting.

I feel like I’ve gotten myself too tied up with the elites...

Lutz wanted to be able to look his customers in the face and see their delighted reactions to his work. That was how he began, and it had been the core of his work. Sure, he wanted money and distinction, but every once in a while, he felt like doing something that reminded him of his roots, so he happily took on the lumberjacks’ request.

Surprisingly, the lumberjacks all carried their axes to Lutz’s workshop without even the assistance of a carriage.

Lutz’s eyes widened at the sight, but the leader of the lumberjacks just smiled and said, “We’re out there fighting massive trees all day. We can get through five to ten axes in a week!”

“I’m not sure I could ever make it as a lumberjack...”

“Well, we can’t have you becoming one, anyway. We need you to keep on sharpening our axes!” After letting out a hearty laugh, the lumberjacks took their leave.

And that was how Lutz managed to get himself stranded in an ocean of axes.

He sharpened the axes, then he sharpened some more. There was seemingly no end to it, but it was relaxing to be able to do it from his own workshop. He could decide for himself whenever he was going to take a break. He could get something to eat or drink whenever he wanted, as well. Taking a break in a place where your customers could see you didn’t feel like a break at all.

Whenever he saw a rusty axe with chips in the blade, he would mumble to himself, “Don’t worry, I’ll fix you up,” then sharpen it until it was as good as new.

“What happened to this handle? The leather must have absorbed too much sweat and now it feels all slimy. It smells a bit too. Is that mold growing on it? Guess I’ll have to replace it...”

Just coming down from the second floor, Claudia caught Lutz mumbling to himself.

“I’ve never seen someone complain with a bigger smile on their face.” Claudia shot him a smirk.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking... It’s nice to do work for a customer that appreciates it, isn’t it?”

“I can understand what you mean. They say the best kind of business benefits three parties. I suppose this is one of those cases.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if the seller makes a good profit, the buyer is happy with it, and it does some good for the greater world around us, there can’t be anything better! For example...” Claudia thought for a moment. “In the case of smuggling or the sale of illicit drugs, the buyer and seller might be happy with it, but it does nothing to promote a prosperous society—quite the opposite.”

“That makes sense.” Lutz gave her a nod.

“In this case, though, it’s giving you a bit of a change of pace, giving the lumberjacks the opportunity to use good-quality tools, and in return, there will be an abundance of high-quality wood for sale in the market. The world becomes a bit happier because of your effort.”

“Oh, I see. That’s an interesting way of looking at what makes a job good.”

“Right? Now that we’ve agreed on that, the guys from the lumberjack settlement are asking if they can leave about thirty more axes... Are you up for it?”

“That’s pushing it.”

Claudia let out a little giggle as she sat down by Lutz’s side. She scooched closer until her shoulder touched him, her hair touched him, and her face got so close to him that he could feel her breath. “Do you want to do something beneficial for both me and you?” she whispered with a seductive smile, tracing her dainty fingertips around Lutz’s chest.

“What are we going to tell the greater world around us?”

“If we get even closer as husband and wife, the atmosphere of the workshop will become brighter and you’ll be able to forge even greater katana. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s good—couldn’t think of anything better. Let’s go with that.” Lutz stood up and quickly put all of his tools away.

As they began to walk up to the third floor, hand in hand, a frantic knocking came at the door.

“Blacksmith, sir! Are you there?!”

Still holding each other’s hands, Lutz and Claudia glared spitefully at the door. It was a voice that they didn’t recognize. It certainly wasn’t Gerhard, Patrick, or anyone else they had become friendly with. In that case, there wasn’t any real obligation to open the door, was there? They had told the craftsmen in town that if someone wanted to hire Lutz for a job, they would have to request him through the Count, but there were still tons of people who came by to try to negotiate directly. Because of that, they made sure they had a suitably sturdy door in place and always had it latched. If they didn’t recognize the voice, they would just pretend to be out most of the time.

We should just ignore it. If we stay quiet they should go away on their own.

“I am an emissary from the federation. You’re in there, right? I heard voices coming from inside. If you don’t open up, it could lead to an international dispute!”

They’d be picking a fight with a country they had just finally managed to form a peace treaty with. As they had just been officially hired by the Count, they had a responsibility to avoid that at all costs.

“It looks like our prayers have gone unanswered this time around.” Lutz sighed deeply, fondling Claudia’s ass as he lamented the opportunity he would be missing.

“Those guys believe in a different god, you see. It must’ve been outside of his jurisdiction.”

The romantic atmosphere had been completely ruined. Claudia flipped her hair in frustration and went to unlock the door.

“Hey, long time no see!” A tanned man with an average build gave them a cheerful smile.

Claudia got the feeling that she had seen the man somewhere before, but she didn’t recall having any acquaintances in the federation. After a moment, it came back to her. “Ah, you’re the one that came to inspect the enchantment at the signing ceremony.”

“You remember me? That makes me very happy indeed. My name is Gwynn. While I’m not officially a royal knight or one of the royal guards, I’m a knight serving directly under the King. It’s lovely to meet you again.”

“Thank you for your polite introduction. So...what brings you here today?” Claudia’s demeanor was as cold as ice. Her disinterest was immediately apparent.

“Does it appear to you that I’ve come to buy vegetables?”

“We do at times get mistaken for a grocer. Quite the mystery, really.”

“It’s best not to tell lies that are so easily unraveled, don’t you know? In any case, would you mind letting me in? This country is so cold.”

Without much other choice, they led him up to the living room on the second floor and decided to at least listen to what he had to say.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How was everything after we left? Is King Kassandros satisfied with Amaterasu?” asked Lutz.

“Ah, about that... Where should I even begin?” Gwynn let out a groan as his expression soured. He didn’t really want to discuss it if he didn’t have to, but it seemed he had no choice. He explained everything that had happened from the assassination of King Kassandros to the coronation of King Arsames. By the time he finished speaking, he had lost all traces of his usual bright yet suspicious demeanor. All that remained was the earnest face of a knight, grappling with how to keep his loyalty intact.

“Such a thing happened to King Kassandros... I can’t believe it.”

“Lutz, I must ask you not to think that you hold any fault in this matter. That kind of thinking is born of arrogance and an insult to the deceased,” said Gwynn as if he were hammering the words into Lutz. “While I fully recognize the value of that katana, there wasn’t a single person involved who was foolish enough to be controlled by it. This was the result of people acting entirely of their own volition.”

“I understand. It’s just sad to hear that someone who found it in their heart to praise my work has passed away.”

“Very sad indeed...” Gwynn hadn’t even had the time to properly grieve since Kassandros’s passing. Speaking with Lutz, he felt like he was able to share even just a bit of the weight resting on his shoulders. “Anyway, that brings us to the reason I have visited today. Of course, I would like to put in an order for a katana.”

“And what would the purpose of this katana be?”

“Is that information absolutely necessary?”

“We have no obligation to take on a job that could be seen as bribery from a foreign nation, after all.”

Lutz and Claudia were still rather suspicious of their unexpected visitor from afar. It wasn’t like they were especially close to him. They had no reason to take him completely at his word. However, Lutz couldn’t help but admit that it made him happy to hear Gwynn had come all the way to the kingdom because he acknowledged Lutz’s talent.

“It has unfortunately come to pass that we must execute an honorable man.”

“I’m assuming it has something to do with the usurpation of the throne, right?”

“Yes. It isn’t as though he is being convicted of any crime. One could perhaps say that his only crime was not becoming a talented enough leader, but I am not so venerable of a man to be able to accuse him of that either.” Gwynn felt a deep shame that he could do nothing at all to change Weneg’s fate. “He has been sentenced to death by decapitation. I’m sure that it is also done in this kingdom, so you will know that it isn’t always as painless a death as it is meant to be.”

Lutz and Claudia nodded. That much was true.

Executions were a spectacle for the masses, a form of entertainment. While Lutz and Claudia didn’t take any pleasure from it, they had both seen people be decapitated before. It was a gruesome sight, the executioner hacking into the criminal’s neck over and over until it finally severed. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence by any means.

“The man in question has come to terms with his death as someone of royal blood. To be honest, I didn’t hold him in very high regard, but I want to pay my deepest respect to his final act of resolve. I promised to give him a painless and dignified death.”

Lutz thought for a moment. “Do you know the height of the executioner?”

“I will be the one to carry it out.”

Lutz was at first surprised by the sudden confession, but his face soon settled into an understanding smile. “Okay, I’ll gladly forge a katana for you.”

“Really? You’ll do it?!”

“Please come back here in a month’s time. I’ll see to it that the katana is ornamented and enchanted by then, as well.” Lutz pulled out a small jewel from a drawer and showed it to Gwynn with a mischievous smirk.

“Hey, wait! You—that jewel—really?!”

“I promise to deliver you the very finest katana, one that can painlessly decapitate someone with a single stroke of the blade.”

Gwynn searched for the words to rebuke him, but he couldn’t find them. He searched for the words to thank him, but they seemed to be missing from his mind too. He felt as if he were going crazy, but the only thing that would come out of his mouth was laughter.

Pulled in by Gwynn’s sudden outburst, Lutz began to laugh along with him.

After the laughter finally died down, Gwynn composed himself and bowed deeply to Lutz. “I will leave this matter in your capable hands.”

Lutz nodded, heart brimming with resolve.

After seeing Gwynn off, Claudia let out a deep breath. While she was frustrated that they had seemingly gotten themselves caught up in another troublesome request, she could feel an inkling of respect for that knight growing within her. “It certainly came as a surprise that he would be doing the execution himself and admit to it so readily.”

While executioners were considered to be experts in their field, it was seen as a dirty and dishonorable job. For a knight to take on such a task was the same as dragging his name through the mud.

“I don’t really know anything about that guy,” said Lutz, playing with the jewel in his hand, “but I at least want to do a job worthy of his courage.”

***

Lutz finally finished sharpening the mountain of axes. With Claudia’s help, he also succeeded in making the atmosphere of their workshop...brighter.

Next on the list was to get a start on Gwynn’s order, a katana to be used for an execution. Lutz wasn’t planning on giving the katana too unique a form. He decided to put all of his focus into giving it a splendid cutting edge.

All right, what kind of shape do I want the blade to take?

Lutz gathered the broken pieces of the tamahagane into the harder kawagane and softer shingane as he thought. There was a noticeable anxiety building up in him. Katana were tools made to kill people. Giving them artistic or spiritual value didn’t change that most crucial fact. It was important not to let himself lose sight of that.

In the past, he had created imaginary enemies or situations to serve as inspiration for his weapons. Djoser’s Knight Killer was made to effectively take on several armored knights at once in an enclosed space. Claudia’s Love Letter was an aikuchi made to pierce directly through the heart of bandits or anyone who would seek to harm her.

However, this was the first time Lutz was going to forge a blade made for the express purpose of killing someone he could put a name to, the third prince of the federation. If he forged that katana, there was a real person that would die by its blade. Even if it was a death that the Prince had come to accept himself, Lutz’s hammer felt heavier than it ever had before.

Having to kill the son of his most respected and beloved lord, how must Gwynn be feeling right now?

He likely could have protected his honor as a knight by avenging his King, but then that would leave the question of who would be the next king of the federation. They would have to choose between a first prince who had lost his eyesight, a third prince who displayed nothing but utter incompetence, or having one of the more influential families in the federation take control of the royal title. No matter which path they went down, civil war would have likely raged throughout the nation, bringing the federation to its knees.

If such a thing were to occur, the kingdom might even try to get greedy and take more land than originally agreed upon in the treaty. Gwynn had to cast aside both hatred and his honor in order to protect the nation he called home. He had to support the second prince, even in Arsames’s panicked and deluded state.

It wasn’t as though Lutz didn’t want to forge the katana. He simply couldn’t forge it without further understanding what kind of man Gwynn was.

What was it that compelled me to show Gwynn a shard of the Iris of the Overlord, all but promising to use it on this katana?

There was a part of Lutz that wanted to alleviate his burden, if only a little. He wanted to tell Gwynn that there were people who could understand his position and support him in his time of need. He wanted to cheer him up. If he were to give words to his actions at that time, that was what would come out.

What would a katana worthy of Gwynn look like? Lutz stayed in perfect stillness as he contemplated the matter.

Just then, he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the stairway. He could tell that Claudia was in high spirits from the rhythm of her steps alone.

“Hey, Lutzy! Buenos morning!”

“Morning, dear. You’re as adorable as ever this morning.”

“Oh, you say the same thing every day,” Claudia retorted.

“I imagine that I’ll still be saying the same thing ten, even twenty years from now too.”

They both broke into laughter and gave each other a high five.

“By the way, Lutzy, I’ve thought of a good name for the katana you’re going to make. Do you want to hear it?”

“A name...huh?”

The katana that Claudia was talking about was nothing but a pile of metal fragments at the moment. Even Lutz didn’t know what kind of katana it would turn out to be.

“There’s nothing that says you can’t name a katana before you forge it, right? It might help you to get an image of the katana before you start to work on it. What would be wrong with that?”

“I suppose it depends on the name. What did you have in mind?”

Claudia let the words gently slip through her supple, glossy lips.

After hearing the name, a sharp image of the blade came straight to Lutz’s head. Lutz had yet to do anything—he hadn’t finished a single step of the process, yet the entirety of the path he was to follow spread out before him.

“I like it. Let’s go with that.” Lutz nodded as a smile came to his lips. Without sparing another second, he dived straight into work.

As Claudia was returning to the second floor, she remembered that she had originally gone down there to let Lutz know that food was ready, but now that Lutz had gone off into a world of his own, there was no use in telling him that, anyway. “I really messed up the order of things to tell him, didn’t I?”

While Claudia at times found herself in disbelief at how much of a katana maniac her husband was, she also respected that side of him.

***

Lutz soon finished his work on the katana. He entrusted Patrick with the ornamentation and then took it over to Gerhard’s workshop for the enchantment.

“If you were going to make something like this, I would have at least appreciated a bit of a heads-up...” said Gerhard, obviously annoyed that Lutz had unilaterally decided to make a katana that could have an effect on the politics of an enemy nation.

“But if I let you know in advance, you would have just told me not to do it,” Lutz responded plainly.

“You little...”

Lutz had decided to forge that katana out of his respect for Gwynn’s chivalry and resolve. He couldn’t have cared less about what country he was from or their respective positions. It was simply a pact forged between two men, entirely independent of any outside influence. If that was considered a crime, Lutz no longer had any use for his new title or the Count.

“Calm down, it’s fine. As long as you don’t go telling anyone, no one will ever know.”

“Don’t try to turn me into an accomplice,” said Gerhard.

“Do you really have the right to say that after selling me this?” Lutz pulled out a jewel from his pocket.

It had been Gerhard who tried to pull Lutz into all kinds of schemes as of late. If anyone were to find out Lutz had those jewels in his possession, while it wouldn’t likely put him straight on the chopping block, it would certainly get him in a good bit of trouble.

“If you don’t want to do it, I can always look for another enchanter...” Lutz went to put the jewel back in his pocket, but before he could, Gerhard grabbed Lutz’s hand firmly.

“Wait, wait. I never said that I wouldn’t do it!”

“From everything I’ve told you, how do you feel about Gwynn?”

“There’s only one thing that I don’t like about him.”

“What would that be?”

“The fact that he’s cooler than me.”

Lutz laughed and let the jewel roll into Gerhard’s hand. They had a deal. Even more than Lutz, Gerhard was a man who held close to his romantic ideals. Lutz never believed for a second that he would turn him down.

“All right, let’s talk money. How much are we looking at?”

“It seems that they have seized some of the fortune that the third prince had squirreled away somewhere, so it should be close to a hundred gold.”

“So it would be somewhere around a thirty, thirty, thirty split, then?”

“No, I mean one hundred gold each.”

Gerhard let out an ecstatic whistle. “That’s incredible. I can’t wait to get started!”

With such an interesting bit of work coming through his door, he felt like he was back in his youth. While he had been tied up with politics recently, the workshop was the place he truly belonged. He was a craftsman through and through.

“I’ll leave it in your capable hands. I suppose in this kind of scenario, an enchantment to enhance the cutting edge would be most fitting, right?”

“I don’t think there’s anything else that would make sense. That prince is so fat that you can’t see any clear line between his face, neck, and shoulders.”

“I can see why Gwynn and he would both be so desperate...”

Cutting directly through a human body wasn’t an easy thing to do. Skin, muscles, fat, and bones all varied in terms of hardness and composition. To be able to cut through all of those materials with a single stroke of a blade was almost impossible with most weapons. It wasn’t even rare to hear cases of blades breaking when they made contact with human bone. The bones of the neck were charged with supporting the weight of one’s head, about ten percent of a person’s body weight, so they needed to be very durable.

“Whether it’s considered unreasonable or impossible, once a man makes up his mind on a matter, there’s nothing left but to do it.” Gerhard bore the look of a respectable craftsman, one worthy of Lutz’s trust.

There was no need to exchange another word. Lutz gave him a bow and left the workshop.

***

Exactly one month after Gwynn placed the order, he returned to Lutz’s workshop.

“Please, come inside. It’s all ready for you.”

Lutz and Claudia led him up to the living room on the second floor. On the table, a new katana awaited him.

The saya was painted a glossy black. The tsuba and tsuka were also rather plain. As it was made for the execution of a member of the royal family, they’d likely decided that it wouldn’t be fitting to make it too flashy a piece. However, there was one point of interest on the black saya, a beautifully painted flower.

Gwynn made sure he had their permission to inspect the blade before standing up and drawing the katana. As it was made for an execution, it felt heavier than an average sword. There was an almost mystical glimmer that ran across the length, like it was constructed from melting ice. That level of beauty was surely the result of using a shard of the Iris of the Overlord. There were four ancient runes engraved into the blade, all of which were filled to the brim with potent mana. It appeared to be a katana that pursued the pinnacle of sharpness and simple elegance.

I could understand putting so much energy into the cutting edge, but why make it this tantalizingly beautiful?

Was it because it was to be used to execute a member of the royal family? No, it seemed like there was a deeper meaning behind it.

“Have you decided on a name for this katana?” asked Gwynn.

Claudia gave him a smile. “We have named it Renge, the Lotus Flower.”

Hearing that, Gwynn closed his eyes tightly. The lotus flower, a flower that was said to bloom beautifully, even in the mud. It held the meaning of pride and purity.

So, that is how you have assessed my way of life...

He was unable to protect his lord, forced to serve under the object of his vengeance, and was to kill the son of his lord before the masses. From the eyes of others, he must have appeared to know no shame. From there on out, his name would forever be associated with cowardice and treachery. Regardless of that, a blacksmith and his wife, citizens of a distant land, were able to say his way of life resembled that of the lotus flower.

If Gwynn had opened his eyes then, the tears would have come spilling out. He had thought he was okay with no one ever being able to understand the choices he made, but that was just a lie he had been telling to himself.

Lutz and Claudia just silently waited for him. After five minutes had passed, Gwynn was finally able to open his eyes. He had a feeling that they would look horribly red from holding back his tears, so he faced downward. “It is a magnificent katana. Considering the occasion, I can’t say that I am overjoyed with it, but I will say that I am eternally grateful.” Gwynn placed a heavy-looking bag of coins onto the table, saying, “Thank you...for everything,” before running out of the room.

It was such a sudden departure that Lutz and Claudia were left looking at each other in confusion.

“Do you think that means he liked it?” asked Claudia.

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a customer react like that, but I think it’s safe to say that he did.”

They were curious as to what would become of Gwynn from there on out, but it was already out of their hands. Feeling that kind of responsibility for things outside of your control was nothing more than arrogance. It was Gwynn who had warned Lutz of that.

It was his life and his cross to bear. Lutz was only a passerby in his story.

“Now that’s settled, why don’t we think about ourselves for a change? I heard the lovely clinking of coinage when this sack hit the table. Let’s see what a prince’s hidden fortune looks like, shall we?” Claudia pulled the sack closer to her with a greedy smirk. There was no way that she would mistake the sound of gold coins. It must have been filled to the brim with them.

“Yep, those are gold coins...”

“They’re gold coins all right...”

Peering into the sack, both of them were at a loss for words. Claudia picked up one of the coins and saw the profile of a burly, bearded man’s face stamped onto it. It was the currency of the federation.

It must have been Gwynn’s way of saying, “If you want to spend it, you’re always welcome in the federation.”

“That conniving bastard!” Claudia flipped the sack over and spilled the coins out onto the table, a sea of golden beards.

The long-gone king of a foreign land, the faces of a complete stranger, stared back at Lutz and Claudia in their multitudes. There wasn’t a single gold coin they could use in the kingdom.

“Lutzy...”

Lutz patted Claudia’s head to comfort her, as she appeared to be in shock, and did his best to put on a smile. It seemed he just couldn’t bring himself to resent that man. If he looked at it in as favorable a light to Gwynn as he could, those coins were surely of great value to him.

“I’m sure there’s a long painful road ahead, but take care of yourself...”

There was no response, of course, even from the many burly faces spread out on the table. They all just kept resolutely facing forward.

***

“What do you think? Even my prison uniform is custom-made, you know?” said Weneg playfully, confined to the room that served as his cell.

Gwynn couldn’t find it in himself to reply. He just stared at him with a somber gaze.

Prison uniforms were usually all made to the same size, but that size wasn’t nearly large enough to cover Weneg’s swollen form.

“What? Go ahead, laugh! I worked hard on that joke.”

“Forgive my rudeness. It’s my nature.”

They were about to head to the stand where Weneg would be executed. Gwynn was about to decapitate the son of his lord. Even if he wanted to laugh, surely it would have been impossible.

“Don’t go lying to me now. I’ve heard that in private, you’re a very bright and bubbly person. So, which one of you is the real one, huh?”

“I can’t say that I’m certain myself... I feel like I’ve been bouncing back and forth between those extremes for so long that I’ve forgotten. I’ve come to think of both of those personalities as my true self.”

“Yes, perhaps you’re right. People aren’t such shallow creatures that they can be summarized in a word.” Weneg’s gaze appeared to rest on someplace far off in the distance. “It may sound like nothing but an excuse—no, it’s nothing but an excuse, no matter how you look at it—but would you keep me company as I grumble for a while?”

“Of course.”

Weneg gave him a little nod, or at least that was how Gwynn perceived it. In reality, his neck fat just appeared to jiggle a bit.

***

Even though I turned out like this, it wasn’t like I never tried to take my studies seriously or completely neglected my martial arts training. When I was a child, I dreamed of one day becoming a respected and benevolent king. However, every time I tried to strive toward my goal, someone always stood in the way.

“Your Highness, there’s no need for you to bother yourself with such lowly activities.”

“The people feel most at ease when they see their king is at ease as well.”

Considering Weneg’s father was a warmongering mass of muscle, that advice seemed to be somewhat contrary to the current state of affairs, but he was only five years old at the time, so he couldn’t exactly form a well-phrased rebuttal. He would just pout and give reluctant nods. As a result, he fell into a life of empty pleasures, with maidservants around him to do his every bidding.

He wanted to run around outside with other boys his age, but after being denied for so long, the desire eventually faded into the recesses of his mind. At the age of ten, he had already rotted to the point where he started to develop perverted tendencies. Honestly, it was laughable.

One might think that once Weneg reached the age where he could properly voice his opinion, he should have just insisted upon a proper education, but at that point, the rot had already spread to his core, and with it, a terribly unfortunate sense of pride.

He didn’t want to be scolded by some common tutor. He didn’t want somebody to see him out of breath after only running for a moment. That pride led him to fear everything around him, so he simply resigned himself to doing nothing at all.

Thinking back on it, Weneg could see that those around him were likely related in one way or another to Arsames’s mother. When their eldest brother started to go blind and became a monk, the throne fell within Arsames’s reach. In such a situation, a younger brother from the King’s lawful wife was nothing but a nuisance.

It would have been easier if they were just able to kill Weneg, but if they were found out, it could have led to the demise of the whole family. While it was more of a roundabout way of doing things, corrupting an innocent child was a much better plan of action, although Weneg felt a bit strange admitting that.

While he wouldn’t go so far as to say that Arsames was being manipulated when he enacted the assassination of their father, it was the undeniable truth that his mother’s side of the family gave him a push in that direction. If it weren’t for their help behind the scenes, there was no way that Arsames could have received the support of the other influential families in the federation so quickly, even if he did guarantee their rights to continue governing their land in peace.

Arsames would now be forever in the debt of the maternal side of his family. All of the brilliant ideas for reform that were swirling around in his talented mind would now be shot down one by one, giving utmost priority to the financial interests of the nation’s elite. If he wished to push any of those reforms through, he would have to do it after he murdered every single remaining member of his family. He would either rot away in a swamp of his own shame or drown in a river of blood.

I actually do feel a bit bad for him. I remember watching Arsames train with his sword from the window of the palace. With tears in his eyes, he swung his sword, grumbling about how much he hated everyone who was forcing him to do so. As I watched him train, I couldn’t help but feel jealous, but I wonder how he saw me. I wonder if he saw my position of just being able to flirt with my harem all day as the life that was truly worthy of envy.

I don’t think I want to know the answer.

“While I’m the one who’s come out and said all of this, I have to admit, it really is just a poor excuse, the grumblings of a failure,” uttered Weneg in self-deprecation. “My first and final job as a prince will be to die. By the way, I heard that you went all the way to the countryside in the kingdom to have a katana made for my execution, but is it really sharp enough to end everything quickly?”

Gwynn silently stood up, walked over to the corner of the room, and readied himself before a large vase. In a flash, he drew the katana, cut through the vase, and sheathed the katana back into its saya. When Weneg heard the distinctive clink of the tsuba making contact with the saya, half of the vase began to fall to the side and shattered onto the ground. The performance was more than enough to convince him of Gwynn’s skill and the sharpness of that katana.

“I have already tested it out on several criminals. I can cut straight through someone’s neck, or even torso, without the slightest hint of resistance.”

“Oh, right... I’ll stick with my neck. Being cut through the torso doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

Gwynn wore a confident smile, but that only frightened Weneg more.

Just then, a knight burst through the door with a bang, irritation clear on his features. “It’s time. Get a move on.”

Gwynn drove his fist directly into the knight’s face. Before he could fall to the ground, Gwynn grabbed him by the collar of his neck and pulled him in close to his face. “Is that any way to speak to royalty?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I see is a crimina—”

Before he could finish, Gwynn slammed the knight’s head against a wall. Then he did it again. Then a third time. When the knight’s eyes were about to roll over, Gwynn spoke to him with a powerful, horrifying voice. “Apologize. I won’t permit acts of discourtesy toward royalty.”

“I-I offer my deepest, most humble apologies...” said the knight, teetering on the verge of unconsciousness.

Gwynn gave him one last kick, sending him flying into the opposite wall of the hallway and knocking him out completely. Gwynn let out a deep breath through his nose and firmly closed the door. He didn’t have any time for knights who didn’t know their manners.

“It’s that sort of thing that gets you on people’s bad side, you know?” said Weneg with a smile. He couldn’t hide the fact that it made him happy. He didn’t know anyone else in the whole world who would get angry on behalf of someone like him.

“Well then... I will lead you to the execution stand.”

“Thank you for accompanying me on my path, even if it leads to hell.”

The two gave each other a nod, walked down the hallway in an uneasy silence, and stepped into the carriage.

***

The execution stand was set up in a plaza in the middle of the capital city. More than ten thousand citizens of the federation had gathered to see the spectacle. When the crowd saw Weneg’s carriage approaching, they roared in anger, spat curses, and cheered in anticipation.

While it was nothing more than simple noise, Weneg could feel it rippling through his chest like violent waves. He looked out at the crowd through the small window in the carriage. “So, they are all so eagerly awaiting my death? All of those people...” You could hear the trembling in his voice.

“They all just have too much free time on their hands. Even if it were Arsames being put to death on that grand stage today, the same people would have gathered.”

“And it’s because you say that sort of thing that you get on people’s bad side too. God, if things continue like this, even in death, I’ll be too concerned about you to rest in peace.” Weneg let out a dry laugh. “By the way, what did you do with the fortune I had hidden away? Is there still some left?”

“It wasn’t the amount that one could spend on a single katana. There are still around ninety-seven hundred gold coins remaining.”

“Good. I leave everything I have to you, Gwynn. Use it as you please.”

“Huh?!” In his shock, a rather undignified voice burst out of Gwynn’s mouth. The average salary of a knight equated to a few gold coins a year. The idea of receiving nearly ten thousand gold coins honestly felt more terrifying than it did fortunate.

“You can take that money and run far away, or you can use it to save this nation in its time of peril. Whatever you do, it’s entirely up to you.”

“I understand... I will humbly accept your generosity.” Gwynn bowed his head deeply.

The sounds of the angry crowd grew louder.

“Die, die, die!”

“Kill him, kill him, kill him!”

If Weneg had asked them what crime he had committed, he wondered how many of them could have actually answered.

“Unfortunately, they sound like they are nearing the limit of their patience. Any longer and they might break out in violence.”

“Yes, you’re right...”

They stepped out of the carriage and walked up the stairs to the execution stand, the wooden steps creaking loudly as they went. Gwynn wished that the whole stage would just collapse, canceling the execution or at least buying them some more time, but no such miracle happened.

Weneg walked to the center of the stage and sat down cross-legged. Other executioners that had been assigned to assist Gwynn tried to hold Weneg down, but Gwynn instructed them to let go of him.

Weneg sat entirely still, and Gwynn held the katana at the ready. It was a sight reminiscent of seppuku, the ceremonial suicide that was common in the East.

Weneg was about to die, but his heart was strangely at ease. The roaring of the crowd slowly faded from his ears, as if the space around him consumed all sound.

They had continued a pointless war for ten years. While the citizens of the nation had been suffering from starvation, Weneg alone had been stuffing his face with food and drinking more than his fill of wine. By putting such a symbol of laziness and rot to death, Arsames likely wanted to send a message that he was going to run a much cleaner government, free from such disgusting greed.

Fine, I’ll play my part. I will die right here. In return, take care of this country, Arsames.

Almost unconsciously, a smile formed on Weneg’s face. At that very moment, the katana fell down onto his neck.

Gwynn hardly felt any resistance at all as the blade glided through. The only thing he truly felt was the weight of a life being cut short.

Weneg’s head fell with a splash, like the sound of a wet towel being thrown to the ground.

While it was normal for an executioner to hold up the head for the crowd to see that he had undoubtedly been killed, Gwynn simply covered Weneg’s head with a cloth and quickly left the execution stand.

“That’s it?”

Every one of the ten thousand people in the audience looked as though there was a question mark springing from their heads. It was different from any execution they had seen before. It was just over so quickly. All that was left on the stage was Weneg’s headless body, still sitting upright, blood pouring from his neck. That sight became the symbol of a new era.

Weneg had died. Gwynn had left. The people were left wondering what to do, but no one was left to answer.

***

After the execution, Gwynn buried Weneg’s head in a simple grave. He buried him deep down into the earth, placed a stone on top, then left some wild flowers that he had picked on the way. Gwynn was the only one who knew the location of this grave, and he carried that secret to his own.

Epilogue

Count Maximillion Shander returned to his domain, finally restoring some peace to his life. There was still no end to the list of problems facing the kingdom, but the rest of the deliberations could all be left to the twelve nobles, the highest decision-making body in the land. While Maximillion felt some frustration toward his exclusion from those discussions, he also found himself relieved that he wouldn’t be dragged into any further issues.

There really was no place like one’s own castle. He could sleep in his own bed. He could swing around his beloved katana whenever he pleased to get some exercise in. He could see the children running around the castle halls—while they admittedly weren’t the brightest, they were positively adorable. He could also casually chat with all of his closest advisors over a meal.

Maximillion’s life had returned to a quiet, peaceful, and easygoing pace. In order to fully enjoy life, it was necessary to make room in your heart and mind for such leisure. He was reassured of that.

In that castle, he stood at the very top of everything. It was his own little world where he answered to no one. What a wonderful thing it was.

While Maximillion was enjoying the return of such peaceful days, the enchanter Gerhard, who had recently been acting as an advisor, suggested that he should meet with the three craftsmen in an official capacity.

Of course, by the three craftsmen, he was referring to the group composed of Gerhard himself, Patrick the ornamentalist, and Lutz the katana smith. They were going to be the backbone of the domain’s ambitions in weapons manufacturing.

While Lutz and Patrick had been appointed as personal craftsmen to the house of Shander, everyone had been so busy dealing with the fallout from the peace treaty and the federation’s coup, the Count hadn’t had a chance to formally meet with them all and hold a ceremony to appoint them officially.

While it was called a ceremony, it wasn’t anything too formal, just a quick face-to-face meeting where they could exchange a few words. To put it bluntly, there was no reason to do anything more than that for someone who wasn’t of noble birth.

“Oh, we should also invite Lutz’s wife, Claudia,” added Gerhard.

If it were a party or banquet, it wouldn’t be unusual to invite someone’s wife as well, but Maximillion questioned whether there would be any meaning in doing such a thing for just a quick meeting.

“Claudia is a very talented woman. She was also the one who came up with the idea to hold a katana-making demonstration for all the other masters in the domain.”

“Oh, that is rather impressive.”

“Your Grace, if you were to employ her or at least give her permission to freely come and go from the castle, it would surely prove beneficial to you. Please give it some consideration.”

If Maximillion truly wished to bring prosperity to his domain and amass greater political power, there was no such thing as having too many capable people on his side. Gerhard also held on to the hope that if Claudia were to join the fray, he could goof off a bit more and leave things in her capable hands.

“Ah, now that you mention it, I remember her. She’s the woman who told Princess Listill that even members of the royal family have the right to experience real love, right?”

“Indeed,” Gearhard confirmed. “At that time, I believe her words gave great comfort to Her Highness, as well.”

“I’m sure she is quite the talented individual, but it seems to me that she is ill-suited to politics.”

“Huh?”

It was an unexpected response. By Gerhard’s assessment, Maximillion should have wanted to gather as many talented people around him as he could, regardless of their social hierarchy. From his expression, though, Gerhard could tell that his lord’s opinion of the idea was far from favorable.

“Saying that royalty have the right to love, to choose who they marry, to live a life of freedom... Such ideas may be acceptable to the common masses, but it would lead only to trouble if she were to plant the seeds of that kind of ideology among the noble class.”

To strengthen ties with other noble families through marriage, to give birth to an heir, to oversee the servants and ensure that they uphold the dignity of a house... For those who were given life as noblewomen, that was the role they were to serve.

“It wasn’t as though I didn’t feel pity for the Princess as people deliberated whether or not she would be sent off to marry a seventy-year-old king from an enemy nation. However, personal sympathy doesn’t override the realities of duty.”

The noble class was only worthy of admiration because they were capable of fulfilling their duties despite those feelings. As Maximillion held firmly to that position, he saw Claudia’s statements as nothing but irresponsible drivel. The reason Maximillion acted to save Princess Listill wasn’t that he felt sympathy for her. He simply agreed with Marquis Eldenburger that the federation could have used her as a hostage, causing further trouble for everyone.

“She doesn’t understand the true nature of politics, the roots that our kingdom has grown from. If I were to keep such a person by my side, nothing good would come of it, regardless of how skilled she is.”

Gerhard had never imagined that Maximillion would turn down his idea so directly. Recognizing that it would be foolish to insist any further, he decided to drop the idea, at least for the time being.

“My apologies, Your Grace. Would it still be acceptable to invite Claudia here as Lutz’s wife, though?”

“I don’t mind either way. Do as you please.”

It was best to give them as many chances to meet face-to-face as Gerhard could. It was his way of laying the groundwork for when the tides would eventually change.

***

A few days later, the three craftsmen and Claudia gathered in the Count’s court.

“I implore you all to work hard for the prosperity of our domain!” Maximillion said with a big smile on his face.

With that, the ceremony was over. It felt like it ended before it even began, but without that little formality of actually meeting with the Count, their position as personal craftsmen wouldn’t be made official. While everybody thought of it as a bother, it simply had to be done. That was the unfortunate reality of most ceremonies.

It seemed like neither party had anything further to discuss, but when everyone figured they were about to be dismissed, Maximillion called out to Claudia.

“You were the one who came up with the plan to put on a public katana-making demonstration, yes?”

“Oh, um, yes. That is correct.” Claudia had figured that she was only there as an accompaniment to Lutz, so she was taken aback when she was spoken to directly.

“To a craftsman, one’s techniques are something to defend with their life. Furthermore, Lutz was practically the only person in the kingdom who was capable of producing katana. For voluntarily offering to teach those techniques without asking anything in return, all for the prosperity of our domain, I offer you my most sincere gratitude.”

“Such gracious words are wasted on me...”

Claudia and Lutz bowed in unison. They wondered why the Count had waited until that moment to bring up the matter.

“Claudia, you are aware of the coup that has occurred in the federation, am I right?”

“Yes.”

While Maximillion had quite strongly asserted that he wouldn’t make use of Claudia in a political capacity, he was curious to see just what it was about her that would make Gerhard support her so ardently. “It was truly regrettable to hear what became of King Kassandros. With his death, the federation has been set back a hundred years, wouldn’t you agree?”

Seeing Maximillion’s analytical gaze, Claudia realized that she was being tested. If that was the case, she figured she might as well say something a bit contentious. “On the other hand, it’s possible that things would have fallen into a more chaotic state if King Kassandros were to have remained on the throne.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?”

“Please, forgive me for speaking with the shallow understanding of a common woman...” Claudia looked down at her feet.

“Please, speak freely. I enjoy hearing a multitude of viewpoints on any one issue. No matter how ridiculous or unfounded an argument, no one in this castle will accost you for voicing your opinion, nor is there any law against it.”

“I understand. In that case...”

Of course, Claudia intended to answer with or without his permission, but she wanted to control the flow of the conversation. It seemed like the Count was asking her for her opinion instead of her forcing her opinion on him. It was a bit of a headache, but there was always the possibility that if she didn’t follow such procedures, it would come back to bite her down the line. You never knew when someone would try to convict you for criticizing the nobility.

“To begin, the assumption that everything would have continued peacefully if King Kassandros were still alive is deeply flawed,” she said, suggesting that the upper echelons of the kingdom might have trapped themselves into that pattern of thinking. Depending on how you interpreted it, that statement alone could have been seen as an unlawful criticism of the highest-ranking nobles in the kingdom. “While the assassination of the King greatly shook the federation, the influential families of the Arsames faction moved quickly to quell any unrest, displaying an impressive show of force and numbers. In short, there were far more people against the consolidation of power in the federation than was originally anticipated. If the King were to try to centralize power in the government by force, it could have resulted in a large-scale civil war.”

“However, isn’t it also true that Kassandros had a divine weapon with the ability to greatly boost one’s charisma?” Without even being fully aware of it, Maximillion’s tone of voice grew slightly accusatory. While part of him wanted to blame them for making such a stupidly godlike weapon, it was Maximillion who asked them to do it in the first place, so he stopped himself from saying anything more.

“That may have fanned the flames even further, creating a situation where neither side could afford to back down.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“When King Kassandros performed his sword dance at the signing ceremony, all the federation’s soldiers, and even some of the more gullible soldiers from the kingdom, knelt before him. However, for the vast majority of the soldiers, it had no real effect. They might have just thought something like ‘Wow, that geezer is actually pretty cool!’ but that was the extent of it.”

Maximillion smiled and nodded along to Claudia’s unexpectedly casual phrasing. “So, you’re saying that it isn’t something so powerful that it can make anyone bow down in unconditional fealty.”

“Yes. In that kind of scenario, the royalists and the other influential families would be unable to get a full read on each other’s strength. You would never know when an ally could turn to an enemy and an enemy could turn to an ally. Without either side being able to assess how successful their campaigns were, it would breed deep-seated suspicion, leading to a war you could never really tell was truly over.”

“Hmmm...”

When Maximillion thought back, he remembered that when Kassandros received Amaterasu, he had seemed so overwhelmed with passion that his head was in the clouds. Would he really have been able to make rational decisions for the sake of the nation in such a state? Would he have been able to calmly collect as many allies as he could around him and pass the throne over to Arsames when the time came? It seemed unlikely. He would have thought that he could have done it all himself. It was a question of who would first be blinded by the brilliant light of Amaterasu. Would it be Kassandros or Arsames?

“So, you mean to say that if Kassandros had not been killed, there was a possibility that the federation would crumble?”

“Yes, but that is merely one of many possibilities. There is also a chance that Kassandros would have been able to fully unify the nation. Whether Arsames’s name will go down as a savior or as a fool, that will be up to the historians of the future to decide.” Deciding that was a good place to end the discussion, Claudia bowed to the Count.

As she bowed, Maximillion’s eyes were drawn to the dazzling earrings that adorned her ears, shining with every color of the rainbow. The sight was burned into his mind.

“This has proved very enjoyable. Excellent work, everyone; you are dismissed.”

Maximillion waved his hand, and Lutz, Patrick, and Claudia left the room. Remaining in the Count’s court were Gerhard and Maximillion alone.

“Were you testing her?” Gerhard asked with a smirk.

“If you were to ask me what the sharpest thing lying around Lutz’s workshop was, I’d find myself answering with her name.”

“If Lutz were to hear that, he probably couldn’t even be mad about it. He’d just put on a reserved smile and nod in agreement.”

“What a lovely pair they are.” A smile spread on Maximillion’s lips.

While he still didn’t have any intention of appointing her to an official position, he figured it would be quite interesting to hear her opinion on certain matters from time to time. However, that opportunity would come far faster than Maximillion ever imagined. Not long after, the third princess of the kingdom, Princess Listill, was kidnapped.

Side Story: If...

With a terrible sorrow accumulating in his chest, Lutz left the bar, made his way back to his workshop, and sat down on a barrel, staring at the bewitchingly beautiful katana.

The merchant Claudia, who had been a client of his for some time, had been arrested by knights. Lutz wasn’t sure of the finer details, but judging by the knights’ reputation, he could assume that it was an abuse of their power.

Besides Claudia, several other mid-level merchants had also been arrested. It seemed they were going after merchants who had a decent amount of money, but no real ties to the noble elite. They were the perfect targets for extortion.

Lutz had heard that some of the other merchants had reluctantly—truly ever so reluctantly—handed over the bail money and were set free. What would Claudia do? Would she be able to pay that much? Did she have any friends or family who could bail her out if she couldn’t do it herself? Lutz had known her for quite some time now, but never once had he seen anyone accompanying her or heard her talk about friends and family. She had always been alone.

“Bail...huh?” whispered Lutz, staring at his reflection in the blade.

Lutz was a poor, unlicensed smith, living outside the city walls. He wasn’t so poor that he didn’t know if he would be able to eat tomorrow, but he certainly had no way of gathering anything close to the value of a gold coin. The only thing in his possession that had any real value was the katana that he was holding in his hand.

What the hell am I thinking?

If he were to give away that katana in lieu of Claudia’s bail money, he would surely be able to save her. No matter how stupid those knights were, they’d be able to take one look at that katana and recognize its worth.

“Do I have any reason to go that far for someone?” Lutz once again asked his reflection.

To be honest, Lutz thought that she was a fine woman, but that was about as far as their relationship went. On the other hand, according to Claudia’s appraisal, that katana would likely be worth around a hundred gold coins.

To a poor blacksmith such as himself, that kind of money was unfathomable. That katana was his ticket to escape the miserable life he had been leading, the opportunity he had been dreaming of for so long. The only problem was he wasn’t sure how or where to sell it, but that wasn’t reason enough to just throw it away.

“I feel stupid for even thinking about it...” muttered Lutz in his lonely little hut, sheathing the katana back into its saya.

Ah, here is where the timeline splits in the course of history. For the sake of someone who was practically a stranger, he couldn’t justify throwing away his entire fortune, a perfectly logical and reasonable conclusion. No one could have blamed him for this choice, nor did he need to feel any guilt because of it. At least, that was how it should have been.

“She seems like she has a good head on her shoulders, anyway. I’m sure she’ll figure something out,” said Lutz, reassuring himself. He stood up and headed out to collect more iron sand, even though he wasn’t running low on it.

He hadn’t done anything wrong. It was only the natural choice. Such words of affirmation swirled around in his head.

One month passed. Claudia had yet to show her face at the workshop, and Lutz hadn’t received any significant orders from anyone else either. One of his neighbors had asked him to perform some maintenance on a pot, and he was also hired to sharpen some weapons for a rather rough-looking bunch, but that was about it. After a month, Lutz finally realized just how important it was to have someone who would consistently facilitate new orders.

His already pitiful savings had dwindled to nearly nothing, but with no new work coming in, he spent his days either idly staring at a wall or drinking cheap booze. If he wanted to use his forge, that would burn through his supply of charcoal. He couldn’t afford to use it just to satisfy his creative impulses.

On one such day, Lutz made his way to the dingy bar outside of the city walls. The barkeeper gave him a little wave as he came through the door.

“Welcome, have a seat,” said the barkeeper, keeping his greeting brief.

Lutz was thankful that he had stopped asking if he was taking the day off whenever he wandered in there. Having to construct a new excuse every time he wanted to indulge in some day-drinking was exhausting and even depressing.

“I’ll have a beer.” Lutz sat down in a random seat and ordered a glass of something he didn’t even really feel like drinking.

The barkeeper was a man who kept his ear close to the ground, a real curator of the town’s gossip. From the twisted smile on his face, Lutz could tell that he had heard something new that he was dying to share.

“Hey, Lutz, did you hear? It seems like that Claudia girl has been sold off to a brothel in the city walls.”

“What did you say?”

Lutz felt a hammer drive into his face, going pale from the shock. But why was he so stricken? He had known full well that such an outcome was possible. To feign surprise now that it had come to pass would be a deception.

“Did you sleep with her?” Lutz asked breathlessly.

“Of course not! It’s a brothel in the city walls. Do you think a poor barkeeper like me could afford that?”

“I see...”

Lutz was prepared to beat him to death if he said that he’d slept with her, so powerful was the chaotic maelstrom in his heart. As for why he was getting so worked up about it, he didn’t quite understand it himself. Furthermore, he had no right to get angry over it.

“Barkeep, do you know where that brothel is? Also, have you heard what name she’s working under?”

The barkeeper chuckled. “What is it, Lutz? You seem like you’re pretty interested in going, you little pervert.”

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just...” Come to think of it, why did he want to go there? He wasn’t confident in his ability to explain how he was feeling at that moment.

Did he want to check in on her to see if she was okay? That wasn’t quite right. There was no way that she was okay after everything she had probably gone through. Lutz needed to see what dark fate his inaction had brought her. Was it a dark curiosity? No, that felt wrong too.

“Okay, okay. I’ll look into it for you. You know I won’t be doing it for free, though, right?”

Lutz silently shoved his hand into his pocket and placed a copper coin on the table. It was the coin that Lutz had been going to use to buy the next few days’ worth of food, his lifeline.

To use this on something so ridiculous...

The seeds of regret started to settle into Lutz’s mind, but it was too late. The barkeeper had scooped the coin into a bag almost as soon as it hit the table.

“Come back in two or three days,” said the barkeeper happily before returning behind the counter.

Lutz was again left alone at his table. He was unable to do anything for Claudia when it actually would have mattered, but now he was being dragged along by his regret. He drank down his beer in a few gulps, trying to wash down the feeling of disgrace, but all it did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

***

A few days later, the barkeeper had gathered the information Lutz was looking for, as he had promised. He provided Lutz with the name and whereabouts of a person who matched Claudia’s description. She was going by a false name that women used at brothels to protect their identity. The barkeeper also told Lutz how much it would cost to have a little fun.

“Five silver?!” Lutz raised his voice in shock.

“Yep,” the barkeeper replied calmly.

Even for people who lived outside of the city walls, it wasn’t exactly exorbitant, but it remained far out of reach for Lutz’s meager savings.

“What about the customers? Are there...a lot of them?”

“Are you asking how popular she is?”

“If Claudia is working at a place like that, all the horny bastards of the city must be lining up day in and day out...” Lutz sulked.

“Can’t say for sure, but I haven’t heard anything like that, anyway.”

“It might not be Claudia after all, then...”

“Anything’s possible,” said the barkeeper, seemingly losing interest.

Lutz was a bit frustrated with his attitude after doing all that work to look into it, but he was likely just offended that Lutz was still trying to deny the information that he had dug up on his behalf. Realizing this, Lutz apologized earnestly.

“Sorry about that. I’ll come back another day.”

“You’re always welcome.”

Lutz left the bar, his head hung low.

“That guy’s done for,” muttered the barkeeper under his breath as he watched him go.

***

Lutz decided to sell the katana, not just because he wanted to see Claudia, but because his savings had nearly run completely dry. A good bit of his funds ended up going toward charcoal to forge a new katana, but the end result was so awful that it made Lutz want to gouge his eyes out. For the time being, he carried it on his hip, but it was far from being a reliable weapon.

Lutz wasn’t a legal citizen, so whenever he wanted to enter the city, he would have to pay a toll to the guards—a bribe, to put it more accurately. Lutz handed over a filthy copper coin as the guard stared at him with vitriol. Lutz bumped into the guard as he passed through the gates, and the guard thought about calling out to him to teach him a lesson, but soon thought better of it. It seemed best not to get involved.

That copper was the very last coin to Lutz’s name, and he placed it all on a gamble. He would need to sell his magnum opus, the greatest and strongest katana he had ever made, for as high a price as he possibly could. However, he had absolutely no clue where to sell it.

Even if he stood before influential merchants and loudly proclaimed he had a bargain like they had never seen before, no one gave him the time of day. He went to more reasonably sized stores as well, but none gave him the answer he was looking for. Thinking that they would understand if only they were to take one look at the blade, Lutz attempted to draw the katana, but he had the guards called on him as a result, forcing him to run away as fast as he could. It was the first time he was able to fully recognize just how important it was to have connections and a veritable reputation.

Later, he would find out that adventurers often came to such shops with rusty old swords, claiming them to be some kind of legendary treasure and asking ridiculous amounts of money for them. When shop owners refused, they would even resort to violence at times. Lutz must have been seen as just another scammer.

Without any other hope, Lutz made his way down to the market street and visited a shop whose clientele tended to be the city’s adventurers. They had swords with chipped blades, rusted armor, and bloodstained bandages for sale. It seemed that even that kind of garbage had some demand among the poorer adventurers.

“What’ll it be, young man?” The old shopkeeper stared at Lutz, who had just been pacing around in front of his shop, with a piercing gaze. It was the stare of someone who had lived his life standing on top of the corpses of others.

“Do you buy weapons as well?” Lutz asked.

“I do. I can at least promise you a better price than the scrapyard.”

Lutz pulled the katana off his waist and handed it to the shopkeeper, who drew the blade with great interest.

“O-Oooh!” The shopkeeper’s dead-looking eyes suddenly filled with life, opening wide. It was different from the rest of the trash circulating around the city. It was truly a sacred sword. His heart started to beat rapidly with excitement, and his breathing became erratic. Even in his excited state, he took care not to let his breath tarnish the blade. He was a professional, after all.

“Th-This is... Wh-Where did you find such a thing?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

All of the items on display seemed to have suspicious origins, as well. While the shopkeeper seemed somewhat sad about it, he nodded in resignation.

Lutz could have just honestly said that he forged it, but he couldn’t bring himself to take credit for it. His skills as a katana smith had rusted away. To continue to call himself one was nothing more than an embarrassment to the craft.

“Okay, I’ll buy it. How does eighty silver sound?”

“Silver, you say?”

It was less than one percent of Claudia’s original appraisal.

Seeing the look of disappointment on Lutz’s face, the shopkeeper gave him an understanding nod. “I’m sure you’re probably thinking I’m lowballing you, but eighty silver is about all that I have to my name. I’m sure that you tried to sell this to just about everywhere in town before drifting to my shop too.”

In other words, there was little choice in the matter.

“All right, eighty silver it is, then.”

“Heh heh... Pleasure doing business with you.” The shopkeeper rummaged around the back of his small hut and retrieved a bag of coins, then threw it over to Lutz. “There’s my end of the bargain. Go on your way, then. Shoo, shoo.”

When dealing with that large of a transaction, it was common practice to first check over the amount with both parties present, but the shopkeeper seemed so entranced with the katana that such basic niceties fell to the wayside. Lutz didn’t have any intention of drawing out the conversation any longer, either, so he quietly went on his way.

When Lutz checked the contents of the bag later, he found that there were only sixty silver coins and a few coppers thrown into the mix. He had already left the shop, though, so there was little that could be done about it. It was all so meaningless, anyway.

A few days later, that shopkeeper was found dead. He had killed himself by stabbing the katana through his own throat. The church later confiscated the katana, claiming it to be a cursed sword, and stored it deep within their treasure vault. None of which mattered one bit to Lutz.

***

Lutz arrived at the brothel that the barkeeper had told him about. Was Claudia really there? He still held on to the faint hope that she wasn’t. He had come all that way because he wanted to see her, but he didn’t want to see her. Thinking about it like that, it was quite the contradiction.

His heart was beating so fast that one would think he had just run for hours on end. Sweat was pouring out of him, and his legs felt as heavy as lead. He certainly didn’t look like a man who was about to ask one of the girls at the brothel for their services. People passing by stared at him with suspicion.

He could still have turned back and lived his life as if nothing had ever happened, but Lutz cut through that temptation and stepped into the brothel.

“Welcome, come on in,” said an older woman with a smile so fake it looked painted on. It was a face that looked down on the world, those who inhabited it, and even herself. An uncomfortable feeling built in Lutz’s chest just looking at her.

Lutz’s throat felt so painfully dry that he struggled to speak. “Is Claud... Sorry, is Clarissa here?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know who you are talking about.” The old woman looked Lutz up and down.

Did that mean that there was no woman there who went under that name?

That old barkeeper... He must have gotten it wrong.

While Lutz was annoyed, he was also relieved that Claudia wasn’t working there, that she hadn’t been sold off to some brothel.

However, that painted smile soon fell back on the old lady’s lips. “Are you looking to buy some time with her?”

“Huh? Um, yes...” Lutz was taken aback by the sudden revelation. Claudia really was there.

Lutz handed over the five silver coins, and the old woman led him up to the third floor. Lutz still didn’t feel emotionally prepared to face her. He wanted to run away and never look back. In the end, though, he had neither the courage to face her nor the resolve to run, so he simply allowed himself to be swept by the current, following behind the old woman.

“Clarissa, we have a customer who asked for you by name!” The old woman banged harshly on the door while yelling for her. “Right this way, sir.” She put on a horrible grin and opened the door for Lutz.

Knowing there was nowhere left to run, Lutz walked into the room. The old woman left them and returned downstairs.

In that dark room, the smell of rot suffusing the air, a young woman bowed her head to Lutz. “Thank you very much for requesting me...” When she lifted her head, she let out a little squeal in surprise and froze in place.

Her hair no longer had its usual sheen. Her skin looked rough and pale. Her eyes appeared cloudy, her face was bony, and her front teeth had been broken as if someone had beaten her. Since the last time Lutz had seen her, she looked like she had aged around twenty years, but it was unmistakably Claudia. The reason the old woman had hesitated at first was likely because she wondered who on earth would request someone who looked so beaten and worn.

Neither of them spoke a word. Even though she was right in his reach, Lutz couldn’t even find the words to say to her.

“Was coming here your sick idea of a joke?”

“I just...wondered how you were doing,” mumbled Lutz, as if he were trying to make up an excuse for himself. It really might have been nothing but an awful excuse. “What the hell happened? I heard that you were arrested for financially supporting a group of bandits, but—”

“You know I’d never do such a thing. If I had to guess why they claimed that, I suppose it was because I was forced to pay them a toll. It hurts my pride, but it beats being stabbed to death. What else was I supposed to do?” Claudia quietly shook her head.

It was the look of a woman who had given up on everything, completely resigned to her fate. It was so very sad to see.

“Of course, those knights don’t care about the reality of life for us merchants. They just arrest us, set a bail that we would never be able to pay, play with our lives, spit on our pride, then sell us off somewhere when they get bored. It’s not like it’s an uncommon occurrence. I’m just one of many,” she said, completely devoid of emotion. Then she stepped closer to Lutz, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. “I don’t care anymore... There’s only one thing that a man would come to see a woman at a brothel for. Let’s just forget everything and have a little fun.”

With both of their faces painted in sorrow, they slowly drew together until their lips pressed against each other. In the very next moment, Claudia let out a whimper and pushed Lutz away. She wiped off her lips with her hand and seemed like she was holding back the urge to vomit. All of the emotions, all of the tears that she had been holding on to, overflowed from her. She dropped to the floor, unable to do anything but cry.

“Claudia, I’m so sorry...”

“What do you have to apologize for?”

“I had a small fortune. If I had handed over that katana as a replacement for your bail money, then I could have—”

A sharp clap rang out in the small room. Claudia had stood to her feet and slapped Lutz across his cheek. While tears were still flowing from her eyes, the rage burning inside them was evident.

“Don’t you dare patronize me by telling me something that you could have done! You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.” Claudia collapsed again to the floor, her shoulders trembling as she wept.

This wasn’t right. Lutz hadn’t come there to say that. Why had things turned out like that? Lutz clenched both of his fists and turned away.

“I’m not sure...but I think that I used to like you.” Claudia’s voice was weak and weary as she directed that final confession at Lutz’s back.

Lutz pulled out a bag filled with silver coins and dropped it onto the floor. The heavy-sounding clinking of metal resonated in the room, and a few of the coins spilled out. Without another word, Lutz left the brothel. He couldn’t think of anything to say to her, and even if he could, he didn’t have the right.

A few days later, a young prostitute hanged herself. It wasn’t a particularly unusual occurrence in the city, so it didn’t even become a subject of gossip in the market. There was apparently a heavy bag of silver coins lying in her room, but it didn’t look like she had even touched it.

***

When Lutz left the brothel, the sun was already setting. He simply walked toward that evening sun in a daze. He had left every last coin he owned with Claudia. He wouldn’t even have the money to eat tomorrow.

“Oh well...”

How had things ended up that way? Lutz no longer had the energy to even ask. He slowly, calmly continued walking on, with no clear destination in mind. Before he realized it, he had arrived in front of the knights’ station.

He opened the poorly affixed door and stepped inside. Several rough-looking men, their faces flushed red with drink, gathered their attention on Lutz.

“What d’ya think yer doin’ here, huh? Ya lost?” asked one of them as he grabbed onto Lutz’s collar, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Lutz kicked the man in the shin with all of his force.

“A-Aaaagh!” The man released his grip.

As soon as he let go, Lutz drew the katana that was on his hip and swung at the man’s head. He cut through his skull down the base of his nose. The man fell to the floor, fresh blood spurting everywhere.

“Wh-What the hell have you done?!”

The knights all grabbed their swords and stood up in unison. Some crazy bastard had just shown up and murdered their friend in cold blood. They hadn’t a clue what was going on. The only thing they knew for sure was that the man in front of them was their enemy.

One of the knights held his sword above his head and charged at Lutz. Lutz drew one of his feet back, shifting his body, then cut into the knight from the side, carving deep wounds into both of his arms. The knight dropped his sword and rolled around on the floor, wailing in pain.

Another knight charged in after him, yelling from the top of his lungs as he advanced. He had put on a brave face, but Lutz saw straight through to the fear inside of him. Lutz kicked a stool into the air, sending it flying at the knight. While the knight was still recovering from the blow, Lutz slashed into his face, gouging out his eye. The knight collapsed, holding his face in agony.

I’ll kill them all...every last one of them.

There was no quelling the rage he held toward those knights or the infuriating disappointment he had in himself. Lutz swung his katana, tearing through flesh and bone with every strike, an endless shower of blood.

All because of these bastards, Claudia had to...

Giving in completely to his rage, Lutz’s form became sloppy. With one poor strike, the katana broke in half, letting out a pathetic clink as it fell to the ground. Lutz stood over the blood-soaked blade in a stupor. In the next moment, he felt a pain so intense it felt as though a red-hot metal rod had been shoved into his side. Looking down, he saw that a sword had pierced deep inside of him. Holding on to it was a single knight, his eyes burning with hatred and fear.

“Clau...dia...I’m...sorry...”

The surviving knights cut into Lutz in their fury, the torrent of blades carving into Lutz’s body. By the time their anger had subsided, Lutz’s corpse was no longer identifiable.

The attack on the knights’ station would make news around the city, but it was nothing compared to what would come next.

***

The Count’s personal enchanter, Gerhard, ran away from the castle in the middle of the night, leaving behind a note saying that he had reached his limits as a craftsman.

In order to take responsibility for the attack on the knights’ station, a certain high-ranking knight was demoted.

The young man who served as personal adventurer to the Count was killed by a giant orc.

Unable to see any hope in the future, the Count lifelessly allowed himself to be controlled by lower-ranking nobles.

The long-running war with the federation came to an end after the signing of a peace treaty, but the kingdom was forced to hand over Princess Listill. She went over there as a wife to the elderly king, but in reality, she was nothing more than a hostage. Far from being treated as royalty, she was forced to work like a slave.

Having traded his daughter for a single jewel, the King was held responsible for the fallout, losing a great deal of power in the kingdom.

All of the citizens of the kingdom went through their lives with downtrodden faces. Some even thought those who died before them were lucky, as they didn’t have to see how far their nation had fallen.

***

“At least, that’s how things could have turned out, don’t you think?”

In bed on the third floor of their brand-new workshop in the city walls, every last inch of her supple skin on view, Claudia finished her tale with a beautiful smile.

Lying in bed next to her, Lutz couldn’t bring himself to smile along with her. The contents of the story were so dark and gruesome that he didn’t know if he’d be able to sleep. Weren’t bedtime stories supposed to be a bit more romantic, or at least a little brighter?

“If you can argue that anything I said was wrong, I’ll hear you out. You know, ‘No, I’d never do something like that!’ or something.”

“No, I think if something were to happen to you, I probably wouldn’t be able to hold my hammer anymore. That much is true. Thinking about my financial situation at the time, it definitely would have been the end of me. I’m just a bit confused as to why you’re bringing all of this up now.”

Claudia let out a little chuckle. “You see...” With an enchanting smile, she rolled over on top of Lutz, her soft body pressing into his. “Whenever I tell you that I’m grateful for everything that you do, you give me a look that tells me you don’t fully understand the scale of my gratitude.”

“But—”

Lutz tried to say something, but Claudia cut him off with a passionate kiss.

Afterword

Thank you very much for picking up The Bladesmith’s Enchanted Weapons Volume 2.

How did you like the side story included with this volume? It was quite a dark story indeed, with no salvation in sight for anyone. However, it was only one of many possible outcomes. Hopefully everyone was able to calmly read it, knowing that it wasn’t the true way that the story unfolded.

This is a little trick that I’m rather fond of. It’s nice to first show that all of the characters are safe and sound before exploring the darkest depths of a story. That way, the reader can sit back and wonder, “How are they going to get themselves out of this one?” It also alleviates some of the worry that the dark series of events playing out on the page will just bring everything to a disappointing and meaningless end, leaving the reader feeling empty inside.

Have you perhaps experienced something similar before? I certainly have. After I finished reading, all I could say was “Um...what? Is that it?” It left an awful taste in my mouth.

However, if you were to ask me if I disliked darker stories, I would say that I’m actually incredibly fond of them. I absolutely love them. Having read through this series and the various gruesome and depraved events that occur sporadically within it, I’m sure that you have figured that much out by now.

At the end of darker stories often comes the delight of overcoming hardships. Even in cases where there is no salvation, there is often a beauty that can be found in the fleeting nature of life. I quite like that kind of story, as well.

I touched on it briefly within the side story, but Lutz had no obligation to come to Claudia’s rescue. While they knew each other through their line of work and considered each other to be rather interesting people, they were nothing more than friendly strangers. However, when you put together Lutz’s interest in Claudia, his frustration with the knights, and his inability to sell his katana, it led him to decide to give the bewitching katana away.

Surely for Claudia, who was cowering alone in the underground cell, thinking about all of the horrible things that could happen to her, seeing Lutz throw away that katana, reluctant as he may have been, he must have appeared so strong, reliable, even beautiful.

The side story this time around was an exploration of what would have happened if Lutz had made the wrong choice. To put it another way, because Lutz made the right choice, he was able to avoid this fate. While the contents of the tale were rather grim, in my mind, I would actually categorize it as a happy ending.

To everyone who took the time to read The Bladesmith’s Enchanted Weapons Volume 2, everyone who followed this story from the web novel, the illustrator CARIMARICA-sensei, my editor O-Shi, and every single member of the staff, I would like to finish off this message by offering you my deepest gratitude.

Kazuma Ogiwara