Wolf Fang (Nanga) (1)
“You and I still have some unfinished business, don’t we?”
Leaving the fainted Hori behind, I approached Peter, who was still sprawled on the ground, unable to rise.
Peter didn’t struggle or try to get up. He simply closed his eyes like a man who had resigned himself to his fate, waiting for my arrival.
And as I stood right beside him, Peter opened his eyes and said to me,
“Kill me.”
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
If we’d ended it right there on the dueling grounds, fine—but actually killing him? Marina would pull every string she had to boot me out of the academy for sure.
And more importantly, the only person who could set straight that insulting rumor about Battōjutsu plaguing the academy was Peter himself.
“I don’t need the neck of some dying old geezer like you. What I want is for you to correct that rumor you spread.”
The one who ties the knot must untie it.
Just as the proverb says, the one who started the rumor has to be the one to end it.
“…You really think I spread that rumor?!”
“Whether you did or not doesn’t matter.”
Knowing a false rumor about yourself is circulating and doing nothing to correct it is as good as endorsing it.
Especially if it’s a rumor that benefits you.
“Hell, I was under suspension, so I didn’t even have a chance to set the record straight myself.”
“So… what, you want me to stand in the academy square and shout, ‘The truth is, I lost’ or something?”
“No, that wouldn’t be nearly enough.”
I leaned in close to Peter’s ear and whispered what I’d been planning before coming here.
“……You want me to do that?”
Peter’s face twisted more severely than it had from the potion’s side effects.
“Why are you so shocked? That’s the bare minimum to correct the rumor spreading through the academy!”
This loser had the gall to spread lies about defeating Battōjutsu.
Normally, I’d skin him alive, hang the hide from a pole, and carve his crimes into it as penance.
I was already being merciful settling for this, so he ought to be grateful.
“Are you insane…! If I did something like that, Marina wouldn’t stand for it…!!”
“That’s my problem to handle, not yours.”
That ice witch meddling in the duel had already pissed me off. If she tried any tricks, it’d just give me an excuse.
“Even so…!! I can’t do it!!”
Peter’s body trembled—not from fear of death earlier, but now.
“My…! My family’s honor is at stake!! I’d rather die than do something like that!!”
“Unbelievable…. What, honor? Is refusing the rightful demand of the duel’s victor—for the sake of your own ‘honor’—some noble act?”
“That’s why I offer my life…!!”
“I’m the victor of this duel. I decide what to demand—not you.”
Even the shameless political knight Peter had no retort; he just ground his teeth in frustration.
“You accepted the duel. You lost it. But now that you’re beaten and it dents your and your family’s reputation, you don’t wanna follow through?”
“Th-that’s…!!”
“If the roles were reversed, this conversation wouldn’t even start. My head would roll, and you’d just stroll back to the academy.”
Me, a Battōjutsu user, losing to some hammer-swinging hack? Absurd. But I’d staked my life too.
A single, irreplaceable life—precious even if not quite as vital as Battōjutsu—on the line.
“Yet you won’t honor the victor’s demand over something as trivial as your family’s ‘honor’?”
“……”
“I’m genuinely disappointed. Makes me wanna retract calling you a political knight.”
Political knights were at least knights. Peter? Not even that.
Knights might be inferior to samurai, but this was a new low.
Peter’s face, frustrated moments ago, now twisted in shame.
Satisfied, I turned from the sight and walked toward the fainted Hori.
“Follow my demand or don’t—your call. I’m done expecting anything from you.”
With that, I hoisted the unconscious Hori over my shoulder without a single glance back at Peter and headed to where Silence waited.
In the short time it took to carry Hori to Silence, not a peep escaped Peter’s lips.
We left the lakeside and, by dawn, could see the academy in the distance.
As the orange sun rose over the horizon, I stopped in a suitable meadow to let Silence rest.
As I unloaded Hori from Silence’s back to let him rest more comfortably—
“Ugh…!”
Hori, who’d been out cold like he was sleeping, woke up. Our eyes met as I set her down.
“Ian…? What happened…?”
“You don’t remember?”
Freshly awake, Hori pursed her lips in thought, then clutched her head as recollection hit.
“Ian!! H-how dare you hit a woman and call yourself a knight who upholds chivalry!!”
“Don’t get it twisted. I don’t uphold chivalry—I uphold the samurai code.”
“S-samurai code? What’s that?”
“Well… it’s kinda like…”
If I had to define it, it’s the virtues a samurai must uphold. But that’s not what Hori wants to hear.
The samurai code evolved over eras and philosophies—impossible to pin down.
Some lunatic even said, “The samurai code is death itself.”
“…It varies by person, but for me, it’s never tolerating insults.”
“Insults?”
“Yeah, insults.”
No matter who, anyone insulting or defiling Battōjutsu gets no mercy. No exceptions.
That’s my samurai code.
Though I show mercy—up to three times—to the ignorant who don’t know better.
Those who know and insult? Straight to the chop.
“Then I didn’t insult anything—why’d you hit me!!”
“Uh… ’cause you were talking crazy?”
“Crazy?! When did I ever talk crazy!!”
They say the mad don’t realize their madness—and Hori fit the bill perfectly.
“Adding weird penalties to a side-effect-free potion for no good reason—what else is that but crazy?”
“What’s wrong with that!! It’s cool, straightforward, and romantic!! Don’t you get romance, Ian?!”
“I get romance just fine.”
I’m not that guy, but I understand romancing inefficiency.
But when that romance kills unrelated innocents? Different story.
“Even if your potion gets someone killed pointlessly, you’d keep making it?”
“What’s the problem with someone dying?”
“What?”
Stunned by Hori’s brazen attitude, she continued.
“My father and I fully disclosed the side effects of our potions.”
“…I must’ve missed that memo.”
“W-well, anyway! We warned about side effects! Using my potion anyway means they accepted them, right?”
“Fair point, but…”
“And it’s not unrelated—the user suffers the side effects and gets the benefits.”
Those who take Hori’s potions crave that power enough to risk the downsides.
Producer and user both consent—no third party gets to judge. That was Hori’s stance.
“But if they knew about a side-effect-free or milder alternative, wouldn’t they pick that instead?”
“They want easy power without the risks? I don’t sell to pathetic types like that.”
Her eyes burned with unyielding conviction—wrongheaded, but unbreakable.
No changing her mind on this, no matter how much I argued.
It wasn’t my rational conviction, but if someone told me to abandon Battōjutsu, I’d kill them on the spot.
“Um… Ian…?”
“Yeah?”
Debate over, Hori fidgeted and asked,
“After that talk… you won’t use my potions anymore, right?”
“Nah, I’ll keep using ’em. Bring ’em by often.”
Enduring those side effects taught me my own weakness—how pain could rob me of Battōjutsu’s freedom.
Only by wielding it flawlessly amid burning agony could one claim true mastery.
“Your potions are perfect for training, so bring ’em lots. If materials are pricey, just wild herbs work too…”
“No, that’s fine. Just for training? Or… against strong foes too…?”
“Obviously against tough ones too. I use everything I’ve got. But…”
How many foes require a Battōjutsu master like me to pop potions?
Unfortunately, Hori’s potions would rarely shine as she dreamed.
Yet the mad, wise girl knew that—and still teared up with joy.
“Th-thank you! I’m so glad I met you, Ian!!”
“Me too…. Would be gladder if you were a bit more normal, though.”
After a short rest, we returned to the academy with Silence, no incidents.
Days passed.
After long, agonizing wait, the news I’d craved arrived.
It's complete. Come to the forge the moment you read this letter.
My new katana.
The blade without a name was finally done.