Chapter 16
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Silver Fang's Awakening
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With her hands on her hips and a face full of dissatisfaction, the child grumbled away. Eirana asked him,
"What are you?"
At the question, the child's eyes went wide as he pointed at himself with a finger.
The sight was utterly adorable, but it stirred nothing in Eirana.
"I'm a sword."
Saying that, he pointed to the sword floating idly behind him.
"This sword."
And he flashed a beaming smile.
He seemed to be the spirit of this sword.
Dris gazed at the sword spirit, his face once again filled with emotion.
Ignoring Dris, Eirana clenched and unclenched her fist to check her condition.
It might look all docile now, but just moments ago, this sword spirit had shown some seriously sharp reactions.
No telling when it might snap and go on a real rampage.
Eirana narrowed her eyes at the sword spirit.
In the meantime, the spirit circled around her, letting out awed exclamations of "ooh" and "aah."
After eyeing Eirana for a moment, the spirit tilted his head and pointed at her left hand.
"Why's that hurt?"
Eirana looked down at her left hand, still bearing the aftermath of frostbite, and replied,
"You did this to me."
"Me?"
Eirana furrowed her brow at the sword spirit's reaction—eyes wide, finger pointing at himself in utter surprise.
Watching her, the spirit paused in thought before nodding as if it all made sense.
"Ah! I was sleeping, and someone kept waking me up, so annoying... that was you, huh."
Apparently, all that earlier commotion had just been sleep-talking.
Eirana, who'd suffered greatly because of that sleep-talking, made a face like she was about to burst and reared back for a punch. Dris panicked and held her back.
The sword spirit in front of them finally seemed in a good mood—ruining it with a punch now would make everything up to this point go down the drain.
As Eirana reined in her emotions to cool off, the spirit crossed his arms and asked,
"So, why'd you wake me?"
Eirana answered,
"What other reason would there be? To make you my sword."
Her voice was curt from irritation, but the spirit didn't seem to mind.
"Your sword?"
The spirit tilted his head as he repeated the word. Eirana nodded.
At that, the spirit wore a meaningful expression.
"Becoming my master won't be easy, you know?"
"How do I do it?"
"You have to pass a test."
"What kind of test?"
"Simple. Just beat me!"
Eirana nodded at the spirit, who puffed out his chest proudly.
"Ah, I see?"
Without hesitation, she drove her fist straight into the spirit's face.
Bam!
"Aaaack!"
The spirit let out a scream as Eirana's fist connected with his face.
It wasn't a plain punch—this one carried internal energy and mana.
Enough to strike even a non-physical being.
Clutching his face, the spirit protested,
"Why'd you hit me outta nowhere?!"
"Didn't you say I had to beat you?"
"Yeah!"
"Then take it."
Toward the spirit shouting defiantly, Eirana followed up with a kick this time.
Dodging it, the sword spirit made a face like 'Huh? This isn't what I meant!' as he evaded Eirana's next attacks.
But evasion had its limits—Eirana's knee smashed into his face once more.
The spirit tumbled across the floor.
Dris just watched the scene with a look of utter disbelief.
Still clutching his face, the spirit made a pitiful expression.
The sight was heartbreakingly pathetic, but sadly, the one who'd struck him wasn't the type to feel any pangs of conscience over it.
Eirana crouched down in front of the spirit and said,
"Hurry up and recognize me as your master."
At her words, the spirit shook his head vigorously.
"No! This isn't the test I wanted! It needs to be more dignified and solemn... yeah! A serious atmosphere! That's what it needs!"
"......"
Eirana stared silently at the desperately pleading spirit, then tilted her head. She picked up a shard of the shattered anvil from earlier.
She grabbed the sword and started slamming it against the edge of the anvil shard.
It was pure stress relief.
Clang! Clang!
"S-Stop! It won't scratch, but it feels bad!"
The panicking spirit tried to stop her, but she wasn't listening.
The best cure for nonsense was to make sure they couldn't spout any more.
Guided by that philosophy, Eirana didn't let up.
Watching her, Dris was at a complete loss for words.
At Eirana's request, he'd forged what he believed was the ultimate sword from the finest materials—only for her to do this with it?
Any normal swordsman would be horrified.
Swords of this caliber were something people strove desperately to earn recognition from, but Eirana's mindset was a bit different.
Class and prestige be damned—a sword was a sword.
It might be an exceptional one, but that didn't mean it deserved kid-gloves treatment.
Especially since it wasn't even hers yet.
To stop Eirana's actions, the spirit climbed onto her back and tugged at her hair with grunts of effort.
Eirana shook him off and kept hammering away.
Finally at his limit, the spirit lunged forward, snatched the sword from her, hugged it to his chest, and backed away.
"You're such a barbarian! I'm a luxury item! Treat me like one!"
A fierce chill swept through the air as he growled with an angry face.
Undaunted by the menacing display, Eirana replied coolly,
"Why should I treat some luxury item that isn't mine yet with respect?"
"......"
Her words left not just the spirit, but Dris too, speechless.
There was such a thing as respect for fine craftsmanship, after all.
The spirit started to argue along those lines but stopped.
Something told him it wouldn't work on the one standing before him.
The spirit thought hard.
How could he make this person recognize his worth?
Still newly born and oddly prideful to boot, the sword spirit desperately wanted to prove his value to this oblivious owner.
After a moment's deliberation, he clapped his hands, grinned widely, and said,
"Then let's make a contract."
Eirana shot back inwardly without mercy.
'Idiot.'
"Once you contract with me, even a boor like you will understand my value."
A total fool, through and through.
Eirana nodded as she thought it over.
"Fine. Let's contract."
Satisfied, the spirit approached her.
As Eirana gave him a puzzled look, the spirit took her left hand.
"I, the Frost Sword, recognize the being before me as my master. I shall become your sword, strike down your foes, and as your companion, declare that I will remain your sword until the end of your days."
With those words, geometric formations shimmered into existence around them.
Startled by the unfamiliar phenomenon, Eirana jumped.
It felt utterly different from a spirit contract.
At the same time, a formation like an engraving appeared on the palm of her left hand.
"Kuh!"
Sudden agony exploded from her hand.
It felt like vast mana was being forcibly crammed into it.
Eirana gritted her teeth against the pain, but it vanished as quickly as it came.
Soon after, a subtle sensation emanated from her left hand bearing the formation.
As Eirana stared in bewilderment, the spirit said,
"Alright, now give me a name."
"A name?"
Eirana tilted her head at the abrupt request.
The spirit replied matter-of-factly,
"You're my first master. I don't have a name yet. So you have the duty to give me one."
Eirana scratched her head.
She hadn't given it any thought.
She glanced at Dris, but he shook his head as if to say it wasn't his place.
Eirana had never named an object before, so she was bound to fumble this.
As she scratched her head, she quietly studied the spirit.
She even considered "Idiot," but his calm gaze was a far cry from moments ago.
Even Eirana couldn't bring herself to saddle a sword like this with such a ridiculous name.
After some thought, Eirana came up with something fitting.
"How about Silver Fang?"
"Silver Fang?"
The spirit tilted his head.
Eirana nodded at him.
"It means 'silver fang'—silver tooth."
Dris, who'd been listening quietly from the side, tilted his head.
He'd never heard the word before in his life.
Was Eirana lying?
But she didn't seem to be.
Muttering the name to himself, the spirit soon broke into a wide grin and nodded.
"Great, I love it."
Silver Fang seemed thrilled with his new name.
"Does that complete the contract?"
"Yeah."
Eirana sighed as she looked at Silver Fang's nod, then lightly shook out her hand, still feeling a bit foreign.
Her gaze turned to the inky-black sword in one corner of the workshop.
The jet-black blade emanated a quiet yet intimidating aura as it slumbered peacefully.
"......Now, what to do with this one?"
Eirana eyed the inky-black sword intently.
Silver Fang had been a fluke that somehow worked out, but this one didn't seem like it'd go down easy.
As Eirana glared at the sword, Silver Fang sidled up to her and whispered in her ear,
"This guy's got a nasty personality, you know?"
Eirana glanced at him and said,
"It's not just the temper—the pride looks intense too."
"Huh? Pride? Mine's pretty strong too."
Eirana swallowed her next words.
'Sure. You seemed prideful at first glance... but you're a total moron.'
Say that, and he'd no doubt throw a fit and become a huge hassle.
Averting her eyes from Silver Fang, Eirana looked back at the inky-black sword.
Dris, who'd been watching quietly, approached.
"What do you plan to do, Lady Eirana?"
"Hmm."
Eirana furrowed her brow.
"The one from Elencan's fang somehow worked out, but the sword from Lord Rakan's fang... I doubt it'll be that simple."
Dris felt the danger from the completely different aura it exuded compared to Silver Fang and spoke with worry.
Silver Fang, eyes wide and hovering in the air, asked,
"Master, you gonna take on this guy?"
"Thinking about it."
"Better drop it. With your current power, it'll be rough."
Even Silver Fang was trying to dissuade her.
In the midst of it all, Eirana silently stared at the sword while checking her own condition.
'Mana's fully recovered... and the frostbitten hand's fine now too.'
Having assessed everything, Eirana said,
"Grab."
Dris's eyes widened, and Silver Fang let out a sly chuckle.
"No, it's too dangerous."
As Dris tried to stop her, Eirana wordlessly gripped the sword.