The Blade's Lament
Ed had tried to approach as warmly as possible, but Enya’s reaction was predictably frigid. “····Who are you?”
She was not the sort to accept kindness from a stranger. Her hand went straight to the hilt of her sword, her green eyes flashing with sharp wariness. Ed, however, was a veteran who had played El Pandor Runtera countless times. He already knew this prickly side of her personality all too well.
Still wearing a gentle smile, he spoke. “I simply couldn’t walk past. A sword screaming inside a sheath that doesn’t suit it.”
“······.”
A sword screaming inside a sheath that doesn’t suit it. The metaphor was a little cringeworthy, yet it struck exactly the sentimental chord Enya loved. It sounded like something the protagonist of the manga Baldohjae would say. Intrigued despite herself, she lowered her guard and tested him.
“I doubt you’re knowledgeable enough about swords to hear its cry.”
She removed her hand from the hilt and showed him the family crest engraved on her sheath. “Rather, you were interested in this crest, weren’t you? If that’s the case, I must decline in advance. I believe relationships are decided by superiority of skill, not by shallow camaraderie.”
Enya spoke with the refined diction of a noble, but Ed translated her words differently in his mind: You don’t know anything about this sword. You’re just trying to latch onto my family’s prestige? If you want to play at friendship, get lost. Let’s settle this with skill.
Very Enya-like message, he thought.
“You’re quite suspicious, aren’t you?”
Ed had no intention of backing down just because she told him to leave. Enya was one of the major NPCs who would greatly influence the future; he needed to build a connection with her starting from the entrance ceremony.
Enya’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Suspicious? Let’s just say I’m not naïve.”
“Haha, I don’t have any hidden motives. I approached you purely because I was interested in that sword.”
They traded words like fencers trading blows. Yet Ed’s final remark once again stirred Enya’s curiosity. He had come simply because he was interested in the sword?
“Do you know anything about this sword?” she asked bluntly.
Ed’s eyes gleamed. He knew more about that sword than anyone else. How could I not know? He had played this game dozens of times. Every time he restarted, Enya had always carried the same sword—at least during the entrance ceremony.
“I recognized it at a glance. It’s the demon blade Muramasa, isn’t it?”
The moment he uttered the name, Enya’s pupils widened. The beloved sword carried by the protagonist of Baldohjae. And Ed had identified it instantly.
“H-How did you… Could it be?”
“Yes. I’ve read it too. Baldohjae.”
····He’s read Baldohjae? The deep furrow between Enya’s brows began to smooth. Her wariness melted away like snow, and a bright smile bloomed across her pale face.
“Someone else besides me knows Baldohjae…! Have you read the side stories too?”
“Of course. The side stories are where the real story begins.”
Life returned to Enya’s expression. She was convinced by Ed’s words—that the side stories were the true beginning. Here was someone who could understand Battojutsu, her dream and ideal. The black-haired boy standing before her was exactly that person.
“Right?! The side stories are the real deal…! To be honest, I hesitated a little. As you know, the main story ended rather ambiguously… So I wasn’t sure if I should continue, but the side stories started with…!”
“The Jaken arc, right?”
“····! Yes! The Jaken arc! That’s when I really got hooked.”
“Anyone who drops it after only the main story is an amateur. The real potential explodes from the Jaken arc onward.”
“Kuhuhu. Exactly.”
Enya laughed and chattered, completely absorbed in the conversation. For someone who had never found a single person to discuss Baldohjae in depth, Ed was a welcome conversational partner.
—What? Enya can laugh like that too?
—Her vibe is completely different.
Yet because she had a reputation in high society for being difficult, the surrounding young men watched their exchange with bewildered eyes. Dozens of them had never even dared to speak to her after seeing that cold gaze.
—Who the hell is that guy?
—Never seen him before.
—Maybe a fallen noble?
Thus, all attention inevitably turned to Ed, the one who had made Enya smile so brightly. She, who always kept a hand on her sword hilt with a sharp look whenever she spoke to anyone, was now using both hands animatedly, her eyes sparkling. Just how had that black-haired boy managed to disarm her?
“······.”
Max, the second son of House Sigmund, harbored the same question. Two years ago, when she first appeared in high society, he had asked her to dance only to be coldly humiliated. The memory of requesting a duel after that disgrace and being thoroughly beaten was a wound he could never forget. He had trained desperately to reach this point, yet here she was, smiling so openly at some nobody. It was unacceptable.
Enya····! Your smile was supposed to be mine alone!
Max harbored romantic feelings for her. He admired her strength as much as he felt anger and hatred toward her. That was why he had come here dreaming of subjugating her—defeating her humiliatingly, then offering comfort to win her heart.
Enya, was your smile really that cheap?
But Enya had opened her heart to some gigolo-like fellow who, at a glance, looked like he didn’t even know the first thing about swordsmanship.
Ding—!
At that moment, the bell of the clock tower at the academy’s main gate began to toll. Only ten minutes remained until the entrance ceremony.
“Ah, time has flown by already.”
The conversation between Ed and Enya came to an abrupt halt. An awkward silence settled between them. Eventually, Ed glanced at her sheath and spoke.
“Shouldn’t you fix that sheath first? It looks quite uncomfortable.”
“·····It can’t be helped. The ceremony starts soon, and there’s no time.”
Enya let out a small sigh. Only ten minutes remained. There was no way she could repair the sheath in that time.
“Give it here for a moment. I can fix it quickly.”
Ed extended his hand as if it were nothing. At the same time, he retrieved his Equipment Maintenance Toolkit from his inventory. With a crackle, a rift opened in the air and the toolkit materialized.
Enya watched the process and naturally thought, Equipment summoning? Does he use trait-type spells?
Trait-type spells required inheriting special “bloodlines” such as stealth, extradimensional storage, transformation, or camouflage. Summoning equipment from thin air was likely a combination of extradimensional storage, camouflage, and stealth magic. In other words, it meant he was a skilled practitioner of rare spells.
“Hurry. We don’t have time.”
But time was short. Enya set aside her thoughts and handed him the sheath. With only ten minutes left, could he really repair it in such a brief window?
“Alright.”
Ed immediately took out his tools and began working on the sheath. Thanks to his hidden skills Handiwork and Engineering Mind, he quickly modified it to fit the sword’s size.
“Hmm. I feel like it could be improved a bit more.”
Yet perfectionist that he was, this wasn’t enough. Could he enhance the sheath’s performance to better suit Battojutsu? Ed pulled out a Spell Storage Scroll from his inventory. He swiftly inscribed a combination of the Reinforce and Accelerate spells onto it. When he infused it with mana—
Crackle!
The combined spell was stored within the scroll. The spell paper was complete.
Fast. Incredibly fast····.
Meanwhile, Enya, who had been watching the entire process, was inwardly impressed. Not only had he repaired the equipment, but he had also crafted a spell scroll at such speed. Even the exclusive forge of a ducal house couldn’t match this pace. It spoke to Ed’s exceptional understanding of spells.
“Here, it’s done. Try it out.”
Moreover, his application of the scroll to the equipment was masterful. A scroll combining two spells should have had a considerable failure rate, yet Ed had handled it as easily as a toy. With a dazed expression, Enya accepted the sheath and sheathed her beloved sword. It fit perfectly, as if it had always been a set.
“····Impressive. In such a short time, all of this····”
“Haha. It’s what I usually do—making or repairing equipment.”
“······?”
Making or repairing equipment? Enya tried to recall if any noble house specialized in such work. Could he be from House Tygriel, which held a monopoly on trade with dwarves? But she had never heard of such a handsome young man in the Tygriel family.
Ding—!
Once again, the clock tower bell rang. Only five minutes remained until the entrance ceremony. The two looked at each other as if by agreement.
“····Shall we run?”
“Yes. Let’s run!”
Whoosh—!
They kicked off the ground simultaneously. Crossing the pinkish path, they passed through the main gate and the clock tower in an instant. Beyond the gate stretched a long marble road. At its end stood the academy’s main building—their final destination.
Whoosh—!
They accelerated once more. Passing the emperor’s statue and the fountain, they raced through the garden lined with trees. And as Enya ran alongside Ed, she felt an inexplicable exhilaration. It was the first time she had ever run side by side with someone like this.
Is this what having a friend feels like?
It seems like it’ll be fun.
She was looking forward to it. She wanted to know more about this boy running beside her. He was someone whose pace matched hers perfectly. Perhaps one day they would stand back-to-back, calling each other’s names. Imagining that distant future, Enya smiled. It had been a long time since she had felt such excitement—since the day she first read Baldohjae.