The Material of a Weapon
I see….
For some reason, Daon pressed a hand to her forehead and mulled things over for a long while before launching into a full-blown speech directed at me.
“Mhm.”
The failed pieces she’d seen in the forge, and even the dagger that had been carefully wrapped—clearly something she treasured—and left guarding the head of her bed.
She compared them one by one against the performance of ordinary weapons visible through her status window, praising them in an excited tone, but…
“I see.”
None of it reached me.
Because in my own eyes, they were nothing but failures.
Or perhaps because they were unfinished works that would never be completed.
“Up we go.”
I nodded along politely to Daon’s words and rose from my seat.
My tail, now fluffy and light, floated up easily behind me.
Contrary to my feelings, it swished through the air with a soft whooshing sound.
I really, really wasn’t happy about the praise….
“Umm….”
Feeling awkward, I whipped my head around to hide my flushed face.
The turning view revealed Daon’s room.
A single bed, a small side table beside it.
A glowing lamp on top of it, and just a little further toward the wall…
“Sawar.”
The proud masterpiece I had forged with my own hands.
The moment I spoke its name aloud, the restless swaying of my tail stopped as if by magic.
Of course I already knew. I had seen it when I first met Daon, too.
But standing here like this, staring at it intently, the impression hit me with perfect clarity.
‘As expected, everything else really was a failure.’
It felt completely different from the failed pieces I’d made and tossed aside like chewed-up gum.
Same steel. Same craftsman. Same forging process.
So why did the results differ so drastically?
I stood there, lost in thought, staring at Sawar so intently that I forgot the passage of time.
—Step.
The soft sound of footsteps came from beside me.
My broken concentration made me turn toward the noise.
“Why are you just staring at it?”
Daon moved from behind me to my side, then approached the neatly hung Sawar on the wall.
When she carefully lifted it, light bloomed from every direction.
—Whoosh.
It was a light I had never seen before.
A deep, vivid red.
It must have been the result of Daon wielding Sawar all this time, her body growing accustomed to the blade.
The resonance and warm energy radiating from that light made my whole body tremble.
“Haa.”
How could I describe this feeling?
It resembled pleasure or satisfaction, yet it was somehow a little different.
Daon then walked over to me with Sawar in hand and offered me the hilt of the crimson blade.
“Go on, touch it.”
At her words, I alternated my gaze between Daon’s face and the sword in her hand for a moment.
“…No.”
It would be a lie to say I didn’t want to touch the masterpiece I had forged with my own hands one more time.
But even so.
“It’s not mine anymore.”
“Huh? What?”
I mustn’t cling to it.
Sawar was already a completed weapon that had left my hands.
The moment I spoke, I spun on my heel, left the bedroom, and headed for the living room.
“…Haa.”
A heated sigh escaped me once I was alone in the living room.
A few sparks mixed in with it scattered wildly into the air.
‘I think I understand a little now.’
The emotion I had felt while looking at Sawar—and at Daon holding it—was probably fulfillment.
My limit.
All the failures I had discarded, all the time I had spent.
A single weapon forged from all of it.
The satisfaction of seeing a weapon made solely for Daon shining in her hands.
“I get it now.”
At my quietly murmured words, Daon flinched.
More precisely, the sound had carried from the bedroom.
The reason Sawar had not become another failure.
Looking at it now, I realized the failures and Sawar had never used the same materials to begin with.
I don’t mean the type of steel.
The most essential material of Sawar.
‘A person’s entire life.’
I had heard about the path Daon had walked, and I had watched her wield that dagger for such a long time.
That long, unwavering tenacity. Two of them.
I slowly walked over to the sofa in the corner of the living room and sank my body into the comfortable leather.
I lightly clenched and opened my palm.
It felt as though the warmth from the time I forged Sawar still lingered there, even after so long.
“Dan…”
Daon emerged from the bedroom a moment later, carefully cradling Sawar in her arms, and called out to me.
She didn’t seem to fully understand what I had said; her eyes were still filled with a faint mix of confusion and guilt.
I relaxed my perked ears and let them droop comfortably, then leaned my head back against the sofa.
“You met a good owner. That’s enough.”
If I—or anyone else—had been the one wielding that blade, it probably wouldn’t have displayed its full power.
Because it was that kind of weapon.
Because it had been made that way.
“…Huh?”
Her bewildered eyes stared at me blankly, and a small chuckle slipped out of me.
‘Could I make another one?’
If I forged a weapon from someone else’s life instead of Daon’s…
Would the result carry the same feeling?
“I’m hungry.”
That burning thirst and hunger prodded at my chest.
“Ah! Just a moment. The rice… something to eat…”
Apparently interpreting my muttered words in a slightly different way, Daon immediately headed for the kitchen and began rummaging through the fridge.
“Not that…”
I stopped myself from calling out to her.
Would it really be so bad to eat something?
My stomach wasn’t particularly empty yet, but I figured I could still taste it.
There’s a saying that even the most beautiful mountain looks better after a meal, after all.
I leaned back against the sofa again and waited quietly for Daon.
*
After searching through the fridge and cupboards, Daon hurriedly changed clothes and went outside.
About thirty minutes later, she returned with both hands full of shopping bags.
“Please wait just a little longer!”
“Okay.”
Chop chop chop.
The sound of a knife rhythmically striking a cutting board soon followed.
‘What is she making…?’
Curiosity made me consider getting up and peeking into the kitchen, but that wasn’t what mattered right now.
I shifted my hips on the sofa several times, repeatedly sitting and standing, before finally giving up and flopping back down.
“Hmm….”
My thoughts continued.
When forging something, the material is naturally the highest priority.
But the environment during forging and the craftsman’s state of mind inevitably play a role as well.
‘Still, I don’t want to completely recreate the atmosphere of that forge…’
It felt uncomfortable, and above all, it didn’t seem possible.
I kept turning the same thoughts and worries over in my head for a long time.
“It’s ready!”
Daon walked out of the kitchen and set a bowl filled with something brownish on the table.
Like I said, even the most beautiful mountain looks better after a meal.
The delicious aroma made me shoot up from the sofa and dash straight to the table.
“What is this?”
“It’s braised beef short ribs. Just a second, I’ll bring the rice.”
While Daon stepped away, I stared at the chair with determined eyes.
A large bar stool placed in front of a table higher than my eye level.
It looked like ergonomics had been completely ignored in its design.
In other words, it was a bit tall.
“Hup!”
With a short shout, I leaped up, hooked my feet onto the footrest, and wriggled with all my might until I finally managed to plant my bottom on the seat.
Daon returned from the living room and placed two bowls of steaming white rice on the table.
The rising white steam clouded my vision.
“Ahem.”
I cleared my throat at the meal I was eating for the first time in what felt like ages and lifted my spoon.
The first bite. I scooped up a chunk of meat nearly the size of my face and shoved it into my mouth along with the rice.
“I made plenty, so take your time.”
At Daon’s words, I nodded while chewing the tender braised ribs and rice together.
The soft, falling-apart meat paired perfectly with the carbohydrates.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“…Not bad.”
It had been so long since I last ate that moving my jaw felt a little awkward, but the flavor was there.
Using chopsticks was still too difficult, so I used only the spoon to greedily tear into the meat.
Before long, the bowls were nearly empty.
I had expected my body, which didn’t feel hunger, would only be able to eat a little, but…
“You… ate all of that…?”
I didn’t feel full at all. I kept chewing and swallowing the meat without end.
“It’s delicious.”
Leaving behind Daon, who stared blankly at the empty bowls as if she couldn’t believe it, I hopped down from the chair and walked over to the window.
Outside was a modestly sized but charmingly decorated yard.
“Where does all that food even go in that body…?”
With the clatter of dishes and her quiet muttering in the background, I began sketching the layout of my second forge inside my mind.