Chapter 32: Preparation (6)

Saturday dawned bright and clear.

Although I usually enjoy sleeping in on weekends, today my body woke up on its own. Today was the day I’d pick up Murasame, the sword I’d left to be reforged at the blacksmith’s.

‘At last.’

A cheerful whistle escaped my lips as I got ready to leave, my heart brimming with excitement. Until now, I’d only had the Daiso knife as a weapon.

Calling it a “weapon” was grandiose—it was just a basic metal tool, barely meeting the most basic requirements. That’s why receiving my first real weapon was a huge deal for me.

Moreover, so far, the only status that hadn’t improved on my stats screen was the “weapon category.” If things went well, maybe I could finally understand the enigmatic Blessing of the Sword God.

Of course, that was just a guess, and for now, I didn’t want to worry too much about that blessing. The thought of receiving a new sword—a true treasure for any swordsman—was enough to keep me in high spirits.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

At least, until I got to the blacksmith’s.

“Well… this is… ah, quite unfortunate. Really sorry about this.”

“…”

The blacksmith scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

His face, already red from the forge’s heat, turned the color of a ripe tomato from embarrassment.

“I did my best, but I’ve never seen anything like this in almost 30 years of work. I’ve never seen a piece of metal split in two with just a single hammer blow. It’s like the sword itself rejected being reforged, as if it had a will of its own. So, in a hurry, I had to create a mold of the shape you wanted, melt down the metal, and forge it again. And, well, this was the best I could manage. If anyone else had tried, they wouldn’t even have been able to shape it into a weapon. It would’ve just ended up as a useless hunk of metal. But at least I managed to get it into a usable form, didn’t I? Hahaha!”

“…”

The blacksmith laughed awkwardly, handing me “Murasame,” which had now taken the shape of a kitchen knife.

The handle, made of a polished reddish wood, was neatly wrapped with a simple cord instead of a sheath, and the blade gleamed with an oiled, polished finish.

Despite the quality craftsmanship, it was clear that the blacksmith had done his best under less-than-ideal circumstances.

As I took the weapon in hand, a notification window appeared in my mind, and I could hardly suppress a bitter laugh.

== ==

[Murasame (叢雨)] [1]

Type: Kitchen Knife

Description: Once known as the “Sword that Retains Dew,” this weapon has now been reborn as a high-carbon steel kitchen knife, imbued with the skill of a master craftsman. Although small, its performance may vary depending on the user.

Dimensions: [Blade Length – 35 cm], [Width – 6 cm]

Attributes: [Destructive Power – C], [Range – E], [Durability – E], [Growth Potential – A]

Grade: (E) ~ (?)

== ==

‘What the hell?’

What kind of reforging could turn a Grade B weapon into an E-rank and, to top it off, reshape it into a kitchen knife? Even back in the game Miracle Blessing M, I’d never seen anything like this.

The worst-case scenario in the game was losing one or two grades on a weapon. But this degradation was so extreme, it almost hurt to look at it.

And somehow, the form had ended up as yet another kitchen knife. Was it mere coincidence, or some kind of fate?

‘…’

The blacksmith had to have sensed that something was off.

As I looked at him, I noticed sweat trickling down his brow—not just from the forge’s heat.

As I stood there, staring blankly at the knife in my hand, he nervously scratched his nose and gave me a couple of hesitant pats on the back.

Noticing my silent stare, he took a cautious step back, looking a bit uneasy.

“I really am sorry. I had no idea it would turn out like this. I did everything I could, but it seems the original metal wasn’t compatible with the final design.”

Did he seriously think that a simple apology was enough after taking the materials from a Grade B weapon and handing me something like a cheap kitchen knife? Did he really think a quick “sorry” would make up for this mess?

‘Should I test Murasame’s edge on you?’

I was tempted to test the knife’s sharpness on his skin, but I took a deep breath and suppressed the anger rising up inside me.

I shook my head to clear my frustration and examined Murasame closely.

The handle was well-crafted, and the dimensions seemed to align with the requirements for my blessing.

It even retained some of the destructive power of a Grade B weapon, which was acceptable.

The reach, of course, was limited. Since it was essentially a knife, I’d have to give up on any extended attack range.

Only the low durability rating at level E was genuinely disappointing.

Even though it was just a Grade E sword, it was sharp enough to cut through most ordinary materials.

But I hadn’t fought so hard in the midterm exam just to end up with something that could only chop wood.

I needed something capable of facing creatures with much tougher defenses.

“Sigh…”

The one redeeming feature was its high growth potential, which was rated at A. That alone made me curious as to why it was rated so highly.

While I was lost in thought, the blacksmith, stroking his soot-stained beard, stepped closer and spoke.

“To be honest, in my 30 years of being a blacksmith, handing over a weapon like this doesn’t sit well with me. But it does have high growth potential, so if you reinforce it over time, it’s bound to be useful. As compensation—and I know it’s not much—I’ll offer to do any future strengthening for free if you provide the materials.”

I looked at the blacksmith. There was genuine sincerity in his eyes.

Seeing this, the anger simmering in my chest subsided a little.

If the growth potential was truly A, the weapon should eventually reach Grade A and, with luck, even S. His offer was tempting, almost hard to refuse.

However, what concerned me was gathering the reinforcement materials.

Most of them would need to be obtained from hunting magical beasts.

I could probably gather enough by hunting low-level beasts, but I’d need to kill hundreds of them to get sufficient materials.

On the other hand, with high-level beasts, I’d only need to hunt about eight or ten of them.

Efficiency-wise, hunting higher-level beasts would save me a lot of time. But, like with so many mobile games, there was always a risk of failure.

The only guaranteed material was one acquired from demons… and that was a risk I wasn’t eager to take.

It wasn’t worth risking my life just to strengthen a weapon. I’d fought to survive until now, and I wasn’t about to gamble my life for a sword.

After mulling it over for a while, I nodded with resignation.

“…It’s a deal.”

“Thank you. I swear on my honor as a blacksmith.”

The blacksmith let out a hearty laugh, pounding his chest with his gloved hand. I looked at him for a moment, then extended my hand toward him.

“Now, that settles one thing. But shouldn’t you at least refund me half the cost for the leftover materials?”

“…What?”

The blacksmith’s eyes narrowed, and I tilted my head.

“Did you really expect to charge me the full price after handing me a weapon like this?”

“But I completed your order, and I even offered to strengthen it without any additional cost…”

“You could sell the leftover materials for a decent sum. How about a million? I’m a bit low on cash right now, so that seems fair.”

“Why, you—! Asking an elder for money like this—”

The blacksmith roared in outrage. A lifetime as a merchant had made him reluctant to give up anything without a fight. With a wry smile, I moved to secure the blacksmith shop’s door.

Whoosh—

I ran my hand over the smooth paulownia [2] wood handle, beginning to unwrap the cord wrapped around it.

The Blessing of the Sword Spirit had calmed my spirit enough that my mind felt clearer than ever.

“You, you fucker! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes flickered with panic as he took a step back, eyeing me with growing alarm.

“Also, I was already planning to test its sharpness. Convenient, isn’t it?”

A wry smile spread across my face as I stepped toward him.

Perhaps since this was my second time pulling this kind of intimidation tactic since the incident with Nox, I was getting rather good at it.

“E-then, how about we settle on five hundred? Even if it’s a piece of metal from a grade B weapon, the market price is a bit different, and it’s hard to recover the investment… really!”

The blacksmith, sensing that something was terribly wrong, began to lower his stiff shoulders and stammered his words. Meanwhile, I continued unwrapping the cord around the Murasame and took another step forward.

“E-e-eight hundred. I can’t offer more than that.”

He stammered, raising a finger to haggle. But I kept advancing in silence.

Finally, I stopped in front of him, and the cord binding the blade slipped free, revealing the gleaming white edge. A familiar message echoed in my mind:

[The weapon’s rank increases slightly.]

[Initiating synchronization with the user through applied force.]

Click—

[The Blessing of the God of the Sword manifests.]

An ominous silence filled the blacksmith shop.

“…”

“…”

Gulp.

The sound of someone swallowing echoed clearly.

“A thousand.”

“Ah… I understand… yes.”

***

The grand meeting hall, vast to the point of emptiness, radiated an overwhelming opulence.

Five men sat around a numbered round table, staring sternly at Elder Cladi, whose face still bore the marks of a recent blow.

“…Elder Cladi, it appears you acted without any consultation with the council. You’ve gone too far this time.”

“I agree. What you did is clearly an act of defiance against us, Elder Cladi.”

Though their words were spoken respectfully, their gazes were icy. The council was angered by Cladi’s attack on Leon’s group during the midterm exams.

However, their anger wasn’t precisely out of concern for the students’ safety.

“We all agreed at the time, did we not?”

“But sending a demon? What sense does that make? Even though we have a truce with them, they’re still our enemies.”

“Is this the time to debate details? We need to deal with disruptive elements as soon as possible, damn it!”

Cladi slammed his fist onto the table, frustrated.

“Lower your voice, Cladi.”

“…Apologies, Head of the Council. I regret my loss of composure.”

The elder who presided over the council, a prominent scar crossing his face, frowned as Cladi returned to his seat, visibly uneasy.

“Allow me to explain again.”

Cladi took a sip from the glass of water before him, composed himself, and continued.

“Honored council members, this matter is not something we can ignore. Think about it. That Media, just ten years ago, expelled our allies from the academy. And yet now, she allows the Sword Master to join the faculty.”

“And what does that have to do with the need to investigate that special student, Kang Geom-Ma, as you suggested earlier?”

“It’s obvious that the headmistress is blocking our information under the pretense of protecting that special student. As if she’s hiding something.”

“What exactly do you believe she’s hiding? Explain yourself.”

The head of the council, who had been listening quietly until then, shot him a sharp look.

Cladi clenched his trembling fists and resumed speaking.

“Sir, did you see the footage from the ranking exam? Do you truly believe that level of swordsmanship is natural for a mere cadet? I’ve spent many years at the academy, and I’ve never seen anything like it. That student is, without a doubt, an anomaly.”

“…Hmm.”

The five elders mentally revisited the events of the exam.

The speed and precision with which he dispatched the prodigious twins in mere seconds were more befitting a master swordsman than a common cadet.

Even at an academy filled with talent, his prowess was entirely abnormal.

The elder with an eye patch questioned Cladi.

“So, what part of his life do you want to investigate?”

“He’s a special student of unknown origin. His background is suspicious in itself. What if he turns out to be a candidate for the title of Hero?”

“…Isn’t Leon van Reinhardt the Hero candidate?”

“Leon has yet to properly manifest his Blessing; he’s merely an apprentice. Honored Head of the Council, the Hero is inevitably a potential threat. We already have enough trouble with the Seven Heroes. Adding a Hero to the equation would be catastrophic. It would be best to identify and neutralize him before it’s too late.”

“…”

The head of the council, hands clasped on the table and eyes closed, pondered in silence.

In the end, it would be he who made the final decision.

Cladi had mentioned Media, the academy’s headmistress, precisely because it struck a sensitive nerve in the council.

Since Media’s arrival, the council’s influence had waned.

No matter how powerful the five elders were in the world, the presence of one of the Seven Heroes, like Media, seriously restricted their power.

Since her arrival, the council had barely been able to intervene in the academy.

And, on top of that, a new Hero candidate was now emerging.

The council needed visible enemies, like the Demon King, to maintain its power.

With the threat of demons, the heroes stood as protectors, and the nobility as leaders to follow. Without a common enemy, the authority of the council—and the nobility in general—risked collapsing.

The council members knew better than anyone that an army without an enemy had no reason to exist. Thus, a Hero was a threat they could not ignore.

Cladi spoke up again.

“What the world needs is not a Hero, but the wise guidance of this council. Since the fall of the Sixth Commander, Basmon, the public has paid homage solely to the Seven Heroes and treats us as if we were useless old relics.”

“…”

Nobody responded, but all present agreed.

“If it’s happening already, what will happen with a Hero in the picture? Our purpose, our very existence, would be at risk. Sir, I implore you to consider entrusting this mission to the Auditore family.”

Upon hearing the name “Auditore,” the one-eyed elder frowned and responded.

“To those who boast so much of values and honor, I doubt they’d accept a task without justification, Elder Cladi.”

“If the Head of the Council requests it, it would be hard for them to refuse, regardless of the reason. After all, they’re nothing more than killers disguised as guardians of order, aren’t they?”

“Hm, you’re right about that. They lack the elegance and nobility of true aristocrats.”

“And if they refuse, we can always turn to other means, can’t we? Sir, I trust in your wisdom to decide.”

After his long argument, Cladi tried to calm his racing heart.

He knew his request was extreme and perhaps unfounded, but with his life on the line, he couldn’t afford to hold back.

It wasn’t the fear of becoming a mere pawn to the enigmatic instructor that drove him.

As a member of the academy council, Cladi wasn’t putting in this much effort just for one woman.

What he truly feared was someone else—a figure he barely dared to think about even in his mind. A true demon.

“The Fifth Commander of the Demon King’s Army, Agor.”

If he didn’t act now… death might be a more dignified fate.

Feeling his blood turn cold, Cladi looked at the head of the council, awaiting his response.

Finally, the head opened his eyes halfway and spoke softly.

“Contact the Auditore family.”

Translator’s notes:

1: Murasame literally means “entangled rain” or “clustered rain.” It is a poetic term in Japanese that describes a brief, intense, and fleeting rain, similar to a sudden storm.

2: Paulownia is a type of lightweight and durable wood, known in Japan as “kiri,” commonly used for making sword handles and furniture due to its durability and resistance to moisture.