A Transfer? Gladly Received

The Black Destroyer.

A black greatsword shaped like a crescent moon, forged by the master smith Drak of Talikal Kingdom.

There were eight Masterpieces in the series, divided by color — Multicolored, Silver, Yellow, Red, Green, Black, Blue, and White.

Whenever Talikal's ruin drew near, Drak would forge a weapon for a 'Chosen Wielder' and hold back the kingdom's destruction with it...

"...When I handed it over, I never imagined a day like this would come."

"Neither did I imagine I'd end up collecting all of them."

The reason I'd gathered the Masterpieces in the first place traced all the way back to Vlack.

It was at the Mock Siege Battle he hosted that I obtained the Blue Guardian and first learned of the Masterpiece quest. After that, I made my way to Talikal and claimed the Red Guide and the Green Hermit. Then I wrested the Yellow Marauder away from the Grim Reaper, and had Drak forge me the White Savior.

Honestly, right up to that point I wasn't confident I could collect them all.

Even if the Reaper had gotten lucky and snatched a Mythic-grade item, the other rankers weren't going to come attacking me for it. They had wealth deep enough not to waver even if someone offered them billions in gold, and even if they lost to me in a fight, the odds of them actually handing over their weapon were close to zero.

For rankers, Mythic-grade equipment mattered more than anything else.

But then the opportunities came.

I saved the Angel Guild during the Empire's war, and Michael gave me the Silver Purifier. Using information I'd wrung out of them, I headed to the World Tree, ended Minoa's ancient monster trial, and received the Multicolored Successor.

Now only one remained.

"......"

At this point, it was less a question of wanting to collect it and more a situation where I had to.

From the Black Destroyer's owner. From Vlack himself.

Vlack lowered his head, as if arranging his thoughts.

It had to be a hard call. Aside from the Reaper, the other two rankers had handed over their Masterpieces almost as a gesture of gratitude — because those weapons hadn't been their main arms in the first place.

Michael, master of the Angel Guild, was better versed in radiating raw power than in wielding weapons, and Minoa had wanted nothing more than to escape the Masterpiece's trial from the very beginning. They'd been able to make that choice precisely because they'd picked up weapons once used by someone long dead — not weapons forged for them. Vlack was different.

The Black Destroyer he owned was a bespoke weapon crafted for Vlack and Vlack alone. A weapon that existed as exactly one in all of Deoen.

'Just like my White Savior.'

"...I apologize, but while I could part with anything else, I don't think I can give you this weapon."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

Just as expected, he refused.

"Hmm...? Did you not say you would grant whatever I wished for?"

"...That is so. But the Black Destroyer is my primary weapon. Without it, the guild's operations would suffer grievous damage. There are numerous raids planned with me at the vanguard as we speak, so—"

"You mean to say the guild's losses take precedence over this One's honor? And here I thought well of you. What a disappointment."

"That is— not quite—"

"Hold on a moment."

I stepped between Cheonma, seething with displeasure, and Vlack. Things had gotten too heated. This wasn't worth a fight.

"First — Cheonma, Vlack has a point. Yes, you suffered a loss, but Vlack has his own circumstances too. I doubt you want the damage to snowball that far."

"Lily. This is not a matter for you alone. This compensation began with the harm done to this One—"

"You handed it over to me, though."

Cheonma had passed the compensation to me, telling me to name whatever I desired. Which meant the right to determine that compensation belonged to me, not to Cheonma.

"I'll be collecting a price that's worth every bit of it, so please don't work yourself up."

"...It seems I have become something of a figurehead. Very well. Have it as you will."

"Thank you."

I turned my head. Vlack waited for me to speak, his expression still uneasy — better than before, but not by much.

"And, Vlack?"

"...Yes."

"I won't bother litigating who was right and who was wrong. This whole thing started with one man, and I hold no particular grudge against him."

What mattered was the compensation.

"Considering all the damage that's been done, the price of the Black Destroyer may strike you as rather unreasonable — but frankly, I don't think it comes anywhere close to too much."

This was Black Moon, after all — the flagship guild of the Western Guild Federation, and a guild fast becoming the talk of the town. For someone sitting in so pivotal a position to let an incident like this simply slide, under everyone's watching eyes?

We weren't talking about the fate of a single vice guildmaster. We were talking about the fate of the entire guild. Everything Taebaek had done wasn't just one man's misdeed glimpsed and shrugged at — it was a dam of long-accumulated infamy bursting all at once.

And Cheonma and I had it in our power to drown that controversy entirely, depending on how we handled it. Even if Taebaek was already bound for the abyss, we could make sure the damage stopped before it reached the guild.

Anyone ordinary would probably think he ought to grovel and offer up whatever was demanded of him.

"......"

"But."

My thinking was a little different.

"You don't need to worry about that. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'm not just taking it off your hands for nothing."

"...Pardon?"

One thing I'd learned while scoping out the state of the kingdoms: Black Moon maintained brisk trade relations, but it had an enormous number of enemies.

More precisely — the guild might be on friendly terms with the kingdoms, but it was on terrible terms with several guilds and the bandits. There were entire mid-sized and larger factions with 'hostile relations' hardcoded into the system, and they were positively itching for a fight.

If Black Moon's combat strength dropped in this climate, the odds of them getting attacked would skyrocket. And they'd even been handed a perfect pretext in Taebaek — they'd come swarming under the banner of some righteous crusade, no doubt about it.

What I wanted was my compensation, not Black Moon's collapse.

'So—'

Shrring.

"A weapon. I'm having a new one made for you."

When the Great Cataclysm strikes, who will be the first to throw themselves into the fight?

Just as with Sgaredo, most users would no doubt trip over themselves to join the subjugation — but the very first to step forward would be none other than the guildmasters.

The ones who lead the players, command them, and deal more damage to the boss than anyone else alive. And Vlack was the head of a major guild.

I had absolutely no intention of stripping a man like that of his weapon and adding to his combat losses and his casualty count. He, of all people, needed to fight the World Boss harder than anyone.

"What... is this?"

Vlack lifted the golden greatsword resting on the table.

With its lavishly ornamented blade, it looked almost like a piece of craftwork — but a powerhouse on Vlack's level would know better.

'That this is no ordinary weapon.'

The greatsword, its grip wound round and round with pristine white cloth, was nearly identical in length to the blade Vlack had been using. The golden sword was considerably larger in size, but with his hidden class — the Grand Magic Swordsman — there was no greatsword he couldn't handle.

"How strange. I can feel an unusual power coming from the blade."

Even Cheonma, who had been wearing that displeased expression, took an interest and turned the sword over, examining it this way and that.

"It appears to be Legendary-tier at the very least. Where in the world did you procure this?"

"Uncle Inom transferred it to me from his warehouse."

"...Pardon?"

"Yep."

Transferred. A hand-me-down.

"Yes. Transferred. A hand-me-down."

"...You didn't simply take it, did you?"

"Of course not. For the record, that thing is an exceedingly rare piece. There are hardly any like it left."

Nearly all of Pharaoh's weapons had been destroyed and scattered by the demon clans; what remained numbered precious few. And of those, the ones that still functioned as proper 'weapons' could be counted on one hand.

Pharaoh in his prime could have produced a trinket like that with a flick of his wrist, but the current him was far too green to manage it.

"Oh — one more thing. Don't draw that blade in front of Uncle Inom."

"Did you steal it?"

"That word is a bit off the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mark. 'Stolen' doesn't quite apply where he's concerned."

You wouldn't call something taken from your own house stolen, would you?

It was like that.

"When you use it, a portion of Uncle Inom's power will manifest, and I've made my own adjustments to it, so you'll have no trouble wielding it. Is that enough to satisfy you?"

"...Er. A test, if I may."

THWACK!

A hammer came plummeting down toward Vlack's skull.

Startled by the sudden attack, Vlack nonetheless instinctively raised the greatsword in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his grip. Had he not been holding it, nothing would have seemed strange about his head caving in under the hammer...

SHAAAAA!!

"...!"

"Oh ho."

Golden sand erupted from the greatsword, forming a half-dome that blunted the hammer's descent.

It groaned and shrieked — a perilous sound — but the half-dome was holding up admirably all the same.

"A magnificent blade. It defends as though it were a living thing."

"That's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Uncle Inom's power. As you can see, it acts on its own in moments of danger to protect its owner. What do you think?"

"Astonishing... but more importantly, the hammer—"

"It has more functions than that, too. Pharaoh's elemental authority infuses its techniques, and once you've grown accustomed to it, you can even raise sand soldiers. If there's one downside..."

KRAK.

"Lily?"

"It's rechargeable, so you'll have to give it regular sunbaths."

A weapon of the sun required sunlight.

"Vlack has died."

"We'll revive him."

It wouldn't take long.