Bloodsein
The old man's eyes were locked on Arteon's wrist.
It was the bracelet he had taken from the Imperial treasure vault.
"Where did you get that? It looks quite rare."
"It was in the Imperial Palace treasure vault. I received it as a reward for my accomplishments."
"...The Imperial Palace?"
For a moment, the old man's expression hardened.
He had taken the young man for nothing more than some spoiled noble's son. But someone with ties to the Imperial family? And not just ties — someone who had earned a reward from the throne itself for meritorious service...
"I—I'm sorry for not recognizing you. This old fool let his eyes get stolen by a precious item and..."
"Ah..."
Arteon scratched his cheek at the old man's words.
Only now did he realize that a remark he had tossed out without thinking could sound thoroughly intimidating to someone like this.
That was stupid.
Even in the capital, the people who lived in back alleys like this were almost all commoners. Of course they would be wary.
Arteon shook his head.
"It's fine. Don't concern yourself at all. Would you mind showing me what you're selling here?"
"Th-this way, if you please? I'll show you inside."
Following the old man into the inner storeroom, Arteon found a neatly arranged display of goods. Of course, both the scale and the quality fell far short of the Imperial treasure vault.
...Still, there's quite a variety.
Arteon looked over the items inside.
"What does this one do?"
"You've got a sharp eye. That's an artifact that enhances physical strength. No need to inject mana separately — it activates the moment you put it on."
"It works without mana? Can it be used permanently?"
"In terms of duration, roughly two hours or so... After that, you recharge it with a mana stone and you can use it again."
"Hmm... May I test its effect?"
"Of course."
The old man carefully took a sword down from the wall.
"Lift this first, then put the ring on and try again."
"That sounds good."
It was perfectly suited for testing strength. Arteon took the sword from the old man and gave it a light swing. A longsword with a well-balanced center of gravity. And then...
He slipped the ring on and swung again.
"..."
It did feel a little lighter, but the difference wasn't anything close to dramatic.
No real need to buy this.
The duration was short, and mana stones were never cheap.
He looked at several more items after that, but the quality was much of a muchness. Still, he understood well enough. If magical armaments could all grant overwhelming strength and absurd abilities...
Then the richest man would always be the strongest.
Arteon stepped back out of the storeroom.
"D-did nothing catch your fancy?"
"No, there were some decent pieces. I simply didn't find what I needed. Please don't take it to heart."
Arteon spoke as courteously as he could. Then he cast a light glance around the shop interior.
Leaving empty-handed like this just felt... a little unsatisfying, somehow.
But then—
"...What are those?"
Arteon asked, looking at the objects piled in a crate in the corner.
The old man waved a dismissive hand.
"Those are all for discarding. Most of what I brought back looking promising turned out unusable."
"May I take a look?"
"Yes, though they're completely worthless..."
Arteon rummaged through the pile in the crate. Just as the old man had said, every piece was broken or useless. Pure junk taking up space.
But then—
"...Huh?"
Arteon flinched. It was almost the same reaction the old man had shown upon seeing the bracelet on Arteon's hand.
The old man looked at him with a worried expression.
"Wh-what is it...?"
Had something gone wrong?
But the old man's voice never reached Arteon's ears.
"Why is this..."
Here?
As if entranced, Arteon picked it up.
Murky fog drifted slowly along the ridgeline.
A common sight on the northern battlefield. The frozen earth lay silent, and beneath it the stench of blood that had yet to cool still seeped through the soil.
Someone approached Arteon as he stood gazing out over that battlefield.
"Captain. Hypothetically speaking—"
"...What nonsense are you about to spout this time?"
"Nonsense? Come on."
Red hair, sharp eyes, a cold cast to his face. People always assumed he was hard to approach because of that look — but in truth he was a chatterbox who talked more than anyone.
One of the few comrades in this hell to whom Arteon could entrust his back without a second thought.
The man smirked and asked him,
"If this war ever ends... what do you want to do?"
"...Don't know. Never thought about it."
Would a day when this war ended even come? He had already killed thousands of Kar tribesmen, and still there was no end in sight.
And yet—
"If this war ends..."
The words were far too alluring. Arteon turned them over in his mind.
He huffed a quiet laugh.
"Can't think of a damn thing. Maybe just open a tavern with you lot down in Almers. Anyone who messes with a place we run won't live long enough to regret it."
"Pffft—! That sounds great. So I'd be the vice president?"
"I don't know... by seniority you'd probably just be stuck washing dishes."
"Hey, what kind of thing is that to say!"
A comrade with whom he had once imagined a future after the war.
"You've got to keep that promise. The tavern in Almers!"
Even on the way into battle the thought seemed to delight him; he never let Arteon forget those words.
But then—
"Why... why... whyyyyyyyyy!"
In the final battle against the Kar Tribe, that comrade had lost his life to Moldrek's betrayal.
The reaper of the battlefield — a man who looked after his comrades more carefully than his own life — had left Arteon's side so pointlessly.
And one of the reasons he had been able to rage across the field as that reaper...
"...Why is this here."
Arteon picked up the ring that had been buried at the very bottom of the crate.
He knew it at a glance. How could he not?
It was the ring the man had bragged about countless times.
...Bloodsein.
An artifact that, for a short time, amplified the wearer's mana. Depending on the user, the boost ranged from as little as thirty percent to well over two hundred. Of course, the physical strain that followed brought with it agonizing pain — but the power itself was absolute.
Except...
The condition required to awaken that ability was considerably demanding.
It had to be fed the blood of the one who intended to use it.
Only after satisfying that grotesque requirement would the armament fully awaken — and that was Bloodsein.
Arteon looked at the old man.
"I'll take this ring."
"Pardon? That one's completely useless..."
"I just like the design. How much?"
"I was going to throw it away. You can just take it..."
The old man hesitated a little. Believing Arteon had connections to the Imperial family, he couldn't help but be cautious.
Arteon took three silver coins from his pocket.
"This should be enough."
"O-oh my! You really could have just taken it... Thank you so much."
For all his protests, the money was already in his hand.
Arteon left the shop as he was.
He had only come to browse a magic armament shop in the capital, and somehow it felt as though he had run into an old comrade.
"...Damn it."
But the feeling was far from pleasant. Memories of that day — memories he had let grow faint — had risen up with unbearable clarity.
And now he...
Had work to do.
Those bastards.
Anger surged up again, and his mind seemed to turn ice-cold.
Even so, Arteon reined in his emotions as best he could and began gathering what he needed. Being in the capital made finding the items he wanted easy enough. Money was the only real problem.
"With this... I should be able to put a little more speed into my training."
More than anything else, what Arteon needed now was mana. He had had his fill of real combat — more than enough to sicken him — but the "fuel" to support that combat was badly lacking.
Stamina and mana. Raising both was the urgent priority.
And then—
"..."
On his way back toward the lodging, Arteon looked again at the smithy the merchant had mentioned earlier.
—Most people don't know it, but that's the finest forge in the capital. The skill there is no joke.
The capital's finest blacksmith, huh...
He needed work done on his weapon anyway.
Without hesitation, Arteon stepped into the smithy.
"Is anyone here?"
"I've got nothing to sell a brat. Get lost."
"..."
A cutting answer the instant he walked in. The man had a finger-thick cigar clenched between his teeth. Arteon asked,
"Do you do weapon repairs as well?"
"Weapons?"
The man's expression changed. He had dismissed the kid as some child — but weapons?
Arteon drew Iglis from where it hung at his waist. And then—
Crack!
The moment he injected mana, Iglis revealed its true form.
Arteon held the spear out and started to speak. But before he could get a word out—
"...Hah!"
The man shot up from his seat and seized the spear in Arteon's hands.
"Th-this... where in the world did you get this?"
He stared at the spear as if entranced. Arteon said,
"...It's a keepsake from my father. Is repair possible?"
"May I take a closer look?"
He was already close enough for his nose to nearly touch it. Arteon nodded and let go of Iglis.
The man studied the spear with careful reverence and swallowed hard.
This level of craftsmanship...
Even he had never forged a spear this perfect.
"...Beautiful."
It was hard to believe a human hand had made it.
"Leave it with me and I'll restore it to absolute perfection."
A fierce passion kindled in the man's eyes like a flame. Arteon said,
"I have to leave at noon the day after tomorrow, so the repairs need to be finished by tomorrow night. Is that doable?"
"Tomorrow night? Hmm..."
The man seemed to weigh it for a moment, then nodded.
"On my honor — it will be done."
"Understood. And I'd like to look at some other weapons."
"They're hanging on the wall over there. Take whatever you need. I'm going to be busy every second."
The man turned briskly and disappeared into the workshop at the back.
Just how extraordinary was Iglis, to get a reaction like that?
Alone in the emptied shop, Arteon turned his gaze to the weapons on the wall.
"...?"
For an instant, Arteon's pupils trembled.
After rolling around on battlefields for so long, he prided himself on an eye for weapons that was second to none.
And yet the weapons here...
Arteon reached out and lifted a sword. The grip and fittings were shabby, but the weight distribution and balance were perfect beyond anything words could capture.
Without thinking, Arteon glanced toward the workshop the man had entered.
"What the hell... is that guy?"
A craftsman of that caliber, stuck in a miserable little forge like this?