New Katana
Looking up at the sky, I spotted a single cloud drifting lazily across the vast blue expanse, just like me.
While the other students were busy with classes or sparring, I—grounded unjustly—had returned to that spot a short distance from the dorms.
Standing under the tree, drawing my blade at falling leaves or empty air, it felt like I was back home. A nostalgic ache welled up inside me.
-Whoosh!
A strong gust blew through, sending a single leaf fluttering down from a branch.
I drew against it, but instead of slicing cleanly, the leaf shattered into two pieces.
“Hoo….”
A little more practice, and I might cut it without a blade... but not yet.
Fighting Peter had taught me a harsh lesson. Even when I blocked his preemptive draw and landed a successful strike, it hadn't been a decisive blow.
Battōjutsu was flawless, but my physical abilities and skill were sorely lacking by comparison.
Since then, I'd cut back even more on sleep to train harder, but that alone wouldn't make me stronger overnight.
I'd have preferred sticking with this Reverse Blade Sword (Yoroi-doshi), but it was no time for stubborn pride.
Sheathing the useless thing, I headed for Otar Goldsmith's forge.
A few days ago, after crushing those iron balls, he'd said he was relocating the workshop—but he probably hadn't finished yet.
Arriving at the forge, the door looked even more rundown than before, or maybe that was just my imagination.
Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside. Most things were cleared out, save for a few swords and tools scattered on the floor.
It looked like they'd fled in the dead of night. For a moment, I worried I was too late—but deeper inside, I sensed signs of life.
“Master Otar? You here?”
“Hm…?”
A familiar voice answered, and a familiar face emerged from the back room, opening the door.
He looked like he'd been sleeping here, rubbing his sleepy eyes as he spoke.
“...What're ye doin' here now? What about yer classes…?”
“I got grounded unfairly.”
“Grounded fer a reason even yer parents'd nod at. Come in, then.”
Inside, there was a simple bed and blanket that looked like he'd just been lying there.
“You're loaded—why sleep in a dump like this?”
“Don't call it a dump. This here's the forge I've worked in since I was born.”
Maybe he just wanted to linger a bit longer before saying goodbye to this cherished place.
Unexpectedly sentimental for his gruff looks—I couldn't help but smirk.
Still, I worried. Sleeping in a shack that could collapse any second might turn it into his coffin.
At his age, death could come anytime, yet he seemed fearless.
“...Yer thinkin' somethin' rude right now.”
“No way. More importantly, I came to ask a favor.”
“What? Not another Reverse Blade Sword, I hope….”
“No, not that….”
This time, I requested a normal katana—not some special one like the Reverse Blade Sword. Otar looked surprised.
“What brought on this change of heart?”
“...I nearly lost recently.”
I'd won, sure—but not because my skill outmatched his. It was Battōjutsu and exploiting Peter's carelessness.
If we'd fought outdoors, or if Peter hadn't played into my plan at the end, the outcome would've been different.
“What happened?!”
I recounted yesterday's events exactly as they unfolded. Otar burst into booming laughter.
“Hahaha!! Even with his guard down, beatin' that bastard?! Yer more ridiculous than I thought!!”
“I know he's ex-captain of the Royal Knights, but is he that impressive?”
“Aye, he is. Only the current head of House von Grind and his late predecessor could match him with blunt weapons, maybe.”
Strictly speaking, the next Sword Saint and current Sword Saint could handle blunt weapons too—but since they weren't their main arms, he excluded them, he added.
There weren't many knights specializing in blunt weapons anyway, so ranking them was silly.
“Good thing it wasn't outdoors. If it had been….”
“I'd have lost because of the leyline?”
“Ye know about ley lines too?!”
Leyline
Literally "dragon's vein," in this novel it referred to the pure natural power flowing through the earth.
The story described leylines as crystallized pure power, distinct from a mage's mana or a warrior's aura.
Uses were endless: drawing power from the leyline like Peter did, or channeling received impacts into it.
But to use it, your body had to touch the ground—even with shoes on—so no indoor use.
When Peter dissipated the shock into the ground, unleashing that insane power he'd held back indoors, I suspected leyline involvement.
Otar's wide eyes now turned my suspicion to certainty.
“Not common knowledge. How'd ye learn it?”
“Just... say I read a lot of books.”
Too many, in fact—enough to get isekai'd into one.
Being able to draw on people was a win, but it still felt off.
“Still, ending the fight like that was a shame.”
I wanted to observe Peter's leyline use more for future reference.
A few more times, and I could've figured it out….
Catching my drift, Otar chuckled.
“Learnin' leyline use just by watchin'? No one's that crazy.”
“I could, though. Anyway, can the next Sword Saint use leylines too?”
“'Course. She trained directly under the Sword Saint.”
“As expected. Heh heh….”
I'd guessed since she entered a year early, but facing her grew more thrilling by the day.
She'd surely give me a battle even better than Peter's.
I wanted to test myself against her—not just announcing Battōjutsu, but as a true swordsman.
For that day, I steered us back on topic.
“So, about that katana….”
“Aye... a plain one, ye said? What exactly? Any old iron around here, hammered quick?”
Nod there, and he'd toss me junk.
“Not plain—a strong katana.”
“Then we pick materials first.”
Sword materials fell into two categories.
One: rare metals like the White Rose's white alloy, with special properties.
Unlike defensive white alloy, others boosted sharpness or spat flames reacting to aura.
The other: from powerful magic beasts' corpses, like fangs.
Those held the beast's power, yielding swords equal to—or better than—rare metal ones.
Best was both, but I lacked funds.
“Rare metals are easier to get.”
Unlike spotty beast parts, great nobles semi-monopolized rare metals for steady supply.
If you had cash. No money, no dice.
Otar wouldn't charge for forging, but I couldn't make him cover materials too.
Abandoning metals, I eyed beast materials.
With info, I could hunt them cash-free.
“Just checking—got info on strong magic beasts?”
“Aye.”
“...You do?”
To my casual question, the old man pulled a bundle of papers from a remaining box and handed them over.
Yellowed with age, they featured detailed beast illustrations alongside sighting reports.
“What's this?”
“Payment from an adventurer's commission years back, instead of coin. His magic beast intel.”
He'd cross-checked with guild reports—mostly matched, so reliable.
Looking closer, another hand—Otar's addition?—noted danger levels.
“Why keep this?”
“Might have useful stuff. Better to know. Which one?”
Hunting meant within three weeks' travel.
Filtering for catchable ones with plentiful sightings, one fit perfectly.
“This one.”
[The Demon Wolf That Ruled Over the Sage's Forest]
Danger Level: 10. Comparable to a fluid dragon in threat. Assign missions with utmost caution.