Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: The Blacksmith's Promise
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“Antonio-!”
Isaac kicked open the door to the blacksmith shop, which was always left ajar.
Antonio, who had been diligently hammering away, shot to his feet and yelled back instead.
“I told you not to call me like that when I have a hammer in my hand!”
“Ah! Then I'm doomed! Because the sword you made for me broke, and I can't block with a hammer!”
He lifted the shattered shortsword and shook it around, and Antonio's momentum faltered for a moment.
But getting an old blacksmith to admit his mistake wasn't easy.
“No, you brat!”
“What are you going to say this time? That I swung it wrong? Picked the wrong opponent? It's a learning process? Then say that from the start! Why do you always swear it won't break every time and put me in danger!”
“Ahem. That's the pride of a blacksmith.”
Antonio took the sword hilt, slapped his belly, and bellowed.
“Aigoo! You took this with you! This was just a test piece I made, nothing special! There's a proper sword over there.”
“That's a refreshingly new excuse.”
“Ahem.”
It was ridiculous—he'd handed it over himself and now called it a test piece.
As if he'd known it would break, Antonio had prepared a new shortsword.
He handed it over with an embarrassed grin.
“This one absolutely won't break.”
“Why don't you hold onto it and see.”
Isaac drew his Perlsen to clash it right then with it, but Antonio hurriedly snatched it away.
“Hey! There's no way it could withstand clashing with something that rough!”
“Right? Exactly. I'll use it gently. Scared it'll break again.”
“Ahem.”
Isaac sneered.
In the end, Antonio threw an arm around his shoulders and dragged him out of the forge.
“Smoke?”
“......I quit for now.”
Back when he was writing with the Silent Sword nonstop, he'd taken it up out of frustration.
But it hadn't lasted long.
Later, he'd subtly avoided it, worried it might hurt his stamina when he started swinging a sword again.
A needless concern, in the end.
“You quit this? Impressive guy.”
Antonio stuck a tobacco stick in his mouth and touched the end to the hammer he held.
The lingering heat from the hammer lit the tobacco, smoke billowing out.
“You brat, this is harder than it looks.”
For the first time, a weak sound escaped Antonio's lips.
“I have to keep it light while ensuring at least minimum strength. You'd have to have made swords like this before.”
“I didn't expect it'd work on the first try. But stop bluffing.”
“With my apprentices watching, how pathetic do I look handing you a sword I just admitted would break right away?”
“......”
Silence passed between them.
At least it was a situation they could both understand.
“Since it's the first one I'm making, the craftsmanship will be lacking. So I have to make up for it in other ways.”
“Meaning?”
Antonio tossed his tobacco to the ground, ground it underfoot, and yelled to his apprentice to fetch his thick coat.
“Up here in the North, there's this ore called Frost Silver. It's a precious material used for the Caldias family's spears.”
“......”
“It doesn't get exported outside. Aside from what the Margrave sends to the royal family, most of it sits in Caldias warehouses.”
Silberna had once mentioned her spear during battle.
Something she could never discard.
“If we make it with that, we can keep the strength while making it light. Of course, it'll take some time.”
“I get that it's precious just from hearing it. But will the Margrave hand it over?”
From the sound of it, even Caldias didn't have much.
“He won't. But we have to try to get it somehow.”
The question of why he was going this far for his sword nearly reached Isaac's throat.
He thought it unnecessary to ask, but Antonio seemed to catch on and answered.
“I saw you training.”
“......”
“You wielded it like it was a finished sword, even though it isn't yet.”
“Ahem.”
“Your opponent was a Helmunt, right?”
Isaac's eyes widened in an instant.
He slowly turned to look at him, and Antonio grinned like a kid caught playing a prank.
“Isn't it fun? The Helmunt sword, praised as great from birth. They're literally born to swing swords.”
“Yeah.”
“The total opposite, right? Helmunt greatswords versus your shortsword. Their magnificent bodies versus a commoner runt.”
He couldn't deny it.
Reality's walls had always been cruel to Isaac.
“And yet, seeing you sincerely try to win—.”
Antonio slapped his back, saying it was a damn fine sight.
It felt like encouragement to keep at it, so Isaac gave a tiny nod.
Isaac had lately been throwing himself into spars with Sharen.
Clang!
Sharen's greatsword roughly shoved aside Isaac's Perlsen.
Isaac felt the overwhelming gap in strength.
The problem was that even among Helmunt direct descendants, Sharen was considered the weak one.
Excluding the youngest, Edel, she was basically the weakest.
“Crimson Flame Burst!”
A red-and-pink aura mixed on the greatsword and blasted out.
Isaac's eyes widened in an instant as he tried to block with Perlsen.
But he was pushed back, launched into the air, and crashed to the ground.
“Urk!”
He'd managed a proper landing, so he wasn't badly hurt, but Isaac grimaced.
Not because it hurt.
It was because no matter what he did, he couldn't pierce through the Red Aura—the wall of reality.
“Isaac, you okay!?”
Sharen came running over in surprise.
She helped him up, looking worried.
“Look, I told you not to use Red Aura. Then we can't practice! I'm not some half-baked knight like Jonathan!”
“Yeah, you're different.”
Definitely different.
Against Jonathan, he'd won through quicker thinking based on understanding Helmunt swordsmanship.
But when a direct descendant swung, it was on another level entirely.
“I'm serious, this is out of worry. I even say the technique name before using it.”
Sharen shrugged.
True, she warned him ahead, so he could respond.
'Feels like she's just enjoying it.'
He got the sense she'd grown fond of announcing technique names.
“We still need to keep going.”
Isaac brushed the dirt off his butt and demanded they start again.
“......You didn't spar like this with my other brothers, right?”
“That wasn't sparring.”
“Kuhum!”
Sharen let out an awkward fake cough and headed back to position.
He thought they'd resume right away.
“Oh wait! Hold on a sec! I have to run somewhere quick!”
“Hm?”
With that, Sharen dashed off somewhere.
“Sis!”
Behind the lodging.
Rianna chided the arriving Sharen to keep it down.
Rianna handed over a towel and water bottle.
The towel was warm, and the bottle gave off a faint aroma—likely boiled tea.
“Whoa, thanks! But I didn't sweat that much. It's so cold here, sweat doesn't come out easy.”
Sharen smiled and took them gratefully.
But Rianna frowned, correcting the misunderstanding.
“Give it to Isaac. Not for you.”
“......”
Sharen, who'd just unscrewed the cap to drink, quietly closed it again.
“I'm your little sister.”
“More importantly, I saw your spar just now.”
“Ah! How was it? My Crimson Flame Burst looked pretty cool, right—!”
“Honestly, I don't get what Isaac's aiming for. The way he shows it while using Perlsen feels like—.”
For the next ten minutes or so, Rianna poured out her thoughts on the recent spar.
It was all advice on Isaac's swordplay, and irritation slowly crept onto Sharen's face as she listened.
“Go sort it out and tell him that. Got it?”
“Can't you just tell him yourself, sis?”
“If I could, I wouldn't be telling you.”
“......”
Something had seriously rubbed her the wrong way.
Sharen thought so and tried to change the mood.
“But sis, doesn't Isaac have this weird charm?”
“......What kind?”
Rianna bit eagerly at the topic. Sharen beamed and explained what she'd felt.
“Like, a bit pitiful and desperate? Red Aura's impossible to beat, right? But seeing him challenge it to the end was kinda thrilling!”
“......”
“What is it? Makes you wanna look after him a bit? His effort to overcome somehow... it's kinda attractive!”
“......”
“Sis, don't tell me you—.”
Bonk!
“What's that on your head?”
“Sniff, shut up!”
Isaac pointed at the lump bulging on Sharen's head, but she snapped irritably, clearly sulking.
She'd said she'd be right back from somewhere, and returned with a bump on her head.
“Let's start again.”
Whatever, Isaac had been pondering how to break Red Aura while she was gone.
He hoped his theory would work this time and moved to begin.
“You're pretending not to, but you're obsessed with the Helmunt greatsword!”
“Huh?”
Sharen's sudden point.
“You're wielding a Perlsen. You don't even have the strength for a Helmunt greatsword, so why obsess over it?”
“......”
“Helmunt greatswords are based on overwhelming power to crush. No power, no Helmunt.”
“......”
“That's why your sword feels crude—trying to shoehorn Helmunt into it.”
“......”
“Forget Helmunt. Just swing your own sword. You've got the talent for it, Isaac!”
Isaac tilted his head at Sharen's fluent explanation, like she was reading from a book.
“Where'd you get that from?”
“......Huh?”
“That I'm trying to borrow from Helmunt swordsmanship. There must be something you saw that made you think that.”
Isaac hadn't expected this depth from Sharen, so he decided to be honest.
“Yeah, you're right. I hate the Helmunt. But I don't hate their swordsmanship.”
On the contrary, he'd admired it so much that he was this obsessed with swords.
And so, he wanted to show them something.
“There's definitely something I admire. The process of making it my own... I'm curious where you saw that hint.”
He'd thought he'd hidden it well.
How had she figured it out?
As Isaac stared at her, Sharen's eyes trembled.
She forcibly held her head still from turning away and shouted.
“Y-you feel it when you swing! This stuff's felt with the heart, not the head!”
Then she handed over the towel and water bottle she'd brought.
“She said watch out for colds!”
“Watch out?”
“Ah, no! Take care!”
“......”
Sharen turned and fled.
Isaac sighed, eyes on the direction she'd come from.
“I had my suspicions.”
When Sharen had first come to the Mallidan Wall.
Something he'd half-suspected and let pass.
The maid with her face wrapped tight lingered deeply in Isaac's mind.