Reverse Blade Sword (1)
‘…I don’t get it.’
Dragging along Hawkins and the others, who were out cold, kept stirring up questions in my mind.
Why couldn’t they accept Battōjutsu?
If it was just because they were dimwitted, shouldn’t they have gotten it right away after tasting it with their own bodies—not just knowledge, but the real deal?
I’d shown those two who got up after Hawkins collapsed just how amazing Battōjutsu was, but in the end, none of them understood.
And so here I was, hauling three guys who couldn’t even stand on their own toward the temple.
If even one of them had grasped the power of Battōjutsu, it wouldn’t have come to this.
Swallowing my regret, I kept walking, and passersby started staring at me.
Well, can’t blame them—I was dragging three unconscious people, after all.
I’d considered carrying them at first, but seeing them drooling in their stupor changed my mind quick.
‘Whatever, it’s not far now…’
A little further and we’d reach the temple. Sure, it might sound like some cult nonsense to drag them there for treatment, but in this world, temples handled most wound healing.
There were potions and medicines out there, but unless they were top-shelf stuff, they were seen as inferior to a priest’s healing.
‘Come to think of it, this’ll be my first time at a temple.’
Our little barony didn’t have one, so if you got sick or hurt, you made do with whatever herbs you could find.
If it was a serious injury herbs couldn’t fix, you just died.
Even if there had been a temple, the village peasants couldn’t afford the gold to use it.
Following the path described in the novel, I dragged Hawkins and the riffraff along until we reached the white temple, its walls reminiscent of the academy’s.
Being the first day of the new semester, there were no injured waiting, so we got right in.
“Welcome…”
As I entered, a middle-aged man who looked like a priest, waiting near the entrance, greeted me—then froze.
His eyes weren’t on me, but on the three I was dragging.
“Why stop mid-greeting?”
“Pardon? Oh, no, it’s just… those behind you? I mean, the ones you’re dragging…?”
“Seniors. They got hurt sparring, so I dragged them here.”
No lies there.
We’d sparred today, and an unfortunate accident happened during it.
A pathetic accident born of their failure to comprehend the greatness of Battōjutsu.
The priest frowned—clearly he’d seen this kind of thing before—and said,
“Judging by your uniform, you’re a freshman… Starting trouble with seniors on day one will make academy life rough.”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
“…Pardon?”
The clueless priest looked baffled, but I ignored him, left the three behind, and walked out.
I didn’t have specific plans, but I’d already wasted time on pointless crap.
Time I could’ve spent practicing real Battōjutsu, not that fake version without a proper scabbard.
Glancing at my waist as that thought crossed my mind, I realized I’d forgotten to leave the training sword from the sparring ground—it hung there alongside my katana.
‘Never doing that fake Battōjutsu again.’
Before formal classes started, I needed a Reverse Blade Sword (Yoroi-doshi) in my hands ASAP.
The old man hadn’t said exactly when it’d be done, but it was about time.
With that, I left the academy and headed to the old blacksmith’s forge.
The closer I got, the more the shabby buildings—hardly matching the old man’s skill—came into view.
Passing them, I reached the forge just as the sound of hammering heated iron rang out.
Was that my Reverse Blade Sword he was making?
I pushed open the door and went deep inside, soon spotting the old man crouched over, pounding glowing iron.
“Old master.”
Deep in concentration, he didn’t respond even when called from behind—just kept hammering.
Clang clang!
In the empty forge with just us two, the sound rang out crisp and rhythmic, like percussion.
At first, I admired his focus on sword-making. But as I waited longer, irritation set in.
The glowing iron he was working didn’t even look like a Reverse Blade Sword, so no reason to stand there quietly.
“Old master!! Old master!!!”
Even shouting, he hammered on like he was deaf.
I tapped his shoulder, but still no reaction—just more hammering. Finally, I stood right behind him.
‘Battō…!’
A mental Battōjutsu strike aimed precisely at the crown of his head.
Only then did he flinch in shock, dropping the hammer, and turn around.
“…I first stepped into a forge at seven, so I’ve been at this smithing gig for about sixty-three years.”
“That’s a long time. But why bring it up out of nowhere?”
“Just wanted to say—in those sixty-three years, I’ve never met a swordsman like you!! You lunatic!!!”
“No need for such high praise.”
World’s a big place, but there probably aren’t many who wield Battōjutsu like me.
“So, is my Reverse Blade Sword done?”
“……Yeah.”
Steering the topic, the old man grimaced and headed deeper into the forge.
Following him to the back, we reached a serene room where finished swords lay neatly arranged.
“That one!!”
Spotting it immediately, I pointed at a katana on the table, wrapped tightly in black cloth.
“How the hell did you know? It’s covered up.”
His baffled look got a triumphant grin from me.
“Felt the outline through the cloth! I’d recognize a katana even in a box!!”
“Lunatic…”
I didn’t know the exact principle myself, but it was true.
Ignoring his mix of contempt and awe, excitement bubbling at finally wielding the Reverse Blade Sword, I rushed to the table.
Ripping off the wrapping like a kid tearing into a present, a katana in a black scabbard emerged.
“Ooh…!”
The moment I gripped the hilt, my swordsman’s instincts sensed the blade’s extraordinary quality.
Slowly drawing it, I inspected the Reverse Blade Sword’s edge.
“…This is good. Really damn good.”
Joy overload had wrecked my vocabulary. That’s how perfect it was.
A blade so sturdy, even a full-force strike from the katana at my waist wouldn’t scratch it.
Conversely, the back edge looked like it could slice through anything like tofu.
Seemed the sharp and blunt sides were swapped, but that’s what a Reverse Blade Sword was for.
“Now to test it quick…”
“Gonna kill someone with it?”
The old man’s sinister grin got a smirk and a headshake from me.
“Killing with a Reverse Blade Sword? That’d defeat the purpose of a non-lethal blade.”
You shouldn’t kill with a Reverse Blade Sword. That’d miss the point.
But smashing bones, wrecking joints to cripple, or causing severe brain damage with lingering effects? Fair game.
Hey, as long as they don’t die. Anything short of that’s fine.
“Ahh~ Can’t wait to smack someone!!”
“Not a person, but I’ve got something suitable. Wanna test it?”
“Another commissioned armor?”
“Hell no, not doing that again. Follow me.”
We ended up at the vacant lot where I’d shattered the White Rose before.
Untouched since, it was worse than ever—ground half-caved in, sword fragments scattered everywhere.
“That what I’m cutting?”
I pointed to a massive iron ball in the center, absent last time.
Weighing tons easy, it had the old man nodding.
“Had a mage buddy move it here for today. About eight tons. Whaddya think?”
“What do I think?”
His question implied if I could cut it; smirking, I approached the iron ball.
Exhaling, I poured more aura into the Reverse Blade Sword than when I’d destroyed the White Rose.
Clunk clunk!
I’d suspected from touching the scabbard, but it wasn’t just the blade—the scabbard was masterfully made too, rattling but showing no sign of breaking.
With aura built to a satisfying level, I leaped lightly, Battō-drawing down onto the ball like stomping it.
Screeech!!
The iron ball crumpled with a deafening shriek—not like metal, but a plastic toy—sinking into the ground, cratering the earth.
A massive dust cloud billowed, the rumble like an earthquake.
Another strike and the whole lot might collapse, taking the forge down, so I quickly resheathed.
“Whew…”
Dust settling, we approached the crater to check the ball.
Completely mangled, split in two—we exchanged smug grins, proud of our work.
“What’re you naming that Reverse Blade Sword?”
“Already decided.”
Reverse Blade Sword Einta (Shadow Strike)—that’s my new blade’s name.
“And old master, if this one breaks, make me another Reverse Blade Sword…”
“Ask for another and I’ll kill you.”
“Ah……”
He says that, but he’ll make one anyway.