kscans

1

“Oh, my. Are you also going to see Master Zendatta by any chance? He has a difficult personality. He doesn’t easily make swords even if a wealthy patron comes to request.”

An old man who suddenly appeared from the shadow of the forest said so.

“Shall I give you some good advice?”

The old man was as withered as a dead tree, and his clothes were shabby. But Bard, who found something interesting in the old man’s nonchalant demeanor, said,

“Oh? Is there something good? Please tell me.”

Then, the old man said,

“When someone comes to place an order, Master Zendatta examines their sword. The villagers at the foot of the mountain believe he’s evaluating their wealth, but that is not the case. By examining the sword, he can determine the quality of the person.”

Bard was impressed by what he had heard. It is indeed true. A weapon that has been in use for many years, reflects the character of its owner. It can be said that a knight’s sword bears the knight’s life engraved upon it. In this sense, a swordsmith who assesses the owner’s caliber by observing the sword must excel at character appraisal. Intrigued by his teachings, Bard nodded in agreement when the old man said,

“Allow me to judge whether your swords are good enough to meet Master Zendatta’s eyes.”

He removed his ancient sword from its sheath and handed it to the old man. Chantillion who was next to him was taken aback. The old man didn’t immediately draw the ancient sword, but traced the seam of the sheath with his finger to confirm the feel. Bard felt a thrill. There was an inviolable dignity in the appearance of the old man holding the ancient sword.

“This is… This old man…”

Then the old man drew the sword and held the ancient sword in front of him. The old man gazed at the ancient sword for quite a long time. His eyes were tranquil like a deep mountain lake, and it was impossible to discern his thought.

To Bard, who knew its worth, the ancient sword was a treasure, but to those unfamiliar with it, it resembled a crudely made hatchet. The color was dull, and there were undulating distortions on both sides of the blade, which persisted even with meticulous cleaning. However, perhaps because he had grown accustomed to it, the undulating pattern now appeared like some form of design. A pattern that seemed to have been casually burned in with a decorative cord. At that moment, he found it strange but felt that this unattractive weapon possessed a grace that other swords lacked. As he gazed upon the ancient sword, the old man shed tears. After wiping his tears, the old man returned the ancient sword to Bard and carefully sheathed it.

“You have shown me something unusual. Could I examine your sword as well?”

He said, requesting for Chantillion’s sword. Chantillion hesitated, but he surrendered his sword, along with its sheath to the old man when Bard nodded. The sword was a magic sword, but to prevent drawing attention on the road, Chantillion replaced its ornate sheath with a plain one. Despite not being particularly large, the sword was remarkably heavy, but to their surprise, the old man accepted it without any trouble. He drew the sword immediately without looking at its sheath. After a quick inspection, he said,

“This is extremely impressive. Master Zendatta ought to be satisfied with this.”

He handed it back while uttering these words. Next, the two ascended the path through the mountain as per the old man’s directions and promptly arrived at the forge of the master craftsman, Zendatta. On their way, Chantillion enquired,

“In the end, what was the point of showing our swords to that old man?”

To which Bard responded,

“If you inquire about the advantages of exhibiting them, the response would probably be none. However, if you consider presenting them to someone, it should be noted that it holds its own significance.”

2

A little over a month had passed since they left Corpus Fortress. At first, Chantillion didn’t know how to camp properly, and was frustrated by the cold wind at dawn and the insects that attacked indiscriminately, but he quickly got used to it thanks to his youth of twenty-four. Bard deliberately avoided large towns and sought out rustic villages where the influence of the Argolide family didn’t reach. The first place they rented a room was the house of a village official in a small village. Bard and Chantillion rode fine horses and looked impressive, so the man must have thought they were high-ranking guests. He smiled and offered the best hospitality he could, such as food and drink. But Bard asked him to let them stay in the stable because they had no money. When the man realized that it wasn’t a joke, he changed his attitude like flipping a hand and looked at them with contempt. When he was handed a poor meal as if it was being thrown at him, Chantillion was about to draw his sword.

In another village, they were warmly welcomed by a poor family with many children, and they enjoyed the simple soup. The eldest daughter, who would be fourteen next year, was fascinated by Chantillion’s beauty and talked happily. When Chantillion learned that the eldest daughter was to be sold next spring, he was shocked, but Bard’s gaze stopped him from saying more.

In one village, they learned about the harsh taxation. In another village, they were surprised by the extent of the damage caused by bandits. In another village, they learned about the fear of having no doctors or medicine when they got sick. After a while, Chantillion also became moderately dirty, so the villagers began to feel a little more familiar with him.

Bard told Chantillion. The Crown Prince has ordered him to widely inspect this region. That means to understand the lives of the people. The scenery seen from the lord’s mansion and the scenery seen from the people’s houses are completely different. By visiting these poor villages like this, you should have understood a little about the lives of the people. But you can’t really understand the thoughts of the people. Because the way of life and thinking from birth are too different. But, you can learn a lot about the hardships and happiness of the people.

Chantillion told Bard. I can’t forgive the village headman of the previous village. He was clearly fattening his own belly and collecting arbitrary taxes. I was about to execute him on the spot, but you stopped me, Bard. When I return to the capital, I will call out his lord and give him a suitable punishment. Also, I was disappointed in the parents who said they were going to sell their eldest daughter next spring. They seemed kind, but I was wrong. I plan to give them money through the village headman so they don’t have to sell their daughter.

Bard told Chantillion. You can do as you like. However, the rural nobles may fear the power of the Argolide family and bow down and listen to you. But if you suddenly criticize the deeds of the village headman under their jurisdiction, the rural nobles may not be pleased. Whether that leads to the happiness of the people, think carefully. Also, it’s good to give money to help the daughter from being sold, but have you thought about what that will do to that family? The daughter is given clothes and food at the place she is sold to, and learns various jobs. If she works hard, she can repay her debt, and eventually her term will end, and she can either return home or work again. If the buyer is a decent person, they might even find her a marriage partner. Didn’t her brothers and sisters say they would help their parents while their sister was away? And if you think that father was happy to sell his daughter, you’re greatly mistaken. Are your eyes blind? Those people are living their lives honestly and earnestly. What do you think of that?

To Chantillion, who fell silent, Bard further said. And, if you give money to that house, do you not need to give it to the next house? The living conditions of every house in that village are harsh. The next house didn’t have a daughter, but they might be making a sacrifice equivalent to selling a daughter, or they might have already sold her. If you’re going to give money just for the sake of the girls you see, how are you different from the lord who used all the girls in the village for his pleasure? What you’re doing may seem noble, but aren’t you prioritizing satisfying yourself? Think carefully about what it means to watch over and support the lives of the people as a noble.

Bard also told Chantillion about the Mageia territory. In the far frontier territory of Mageia, the first generation left these words: “If someone is greedy, someone will starve. Imagine what the poorest person in the territory ate tonight.” Even now, the Zarkos family holds this as their family motto. Therefore, Lord Godon Zarkos, when he learned that his property had been squandered and his affairs had been mishandled by his reckless relatives during his absence, did not reprimand his sister and her husband who had been left in charge. On the contrary, he gave them heartfelt praise, saying, “You did well to protect the people, even if you reduced the family fortune.” When the vassals and the people heard this, they cried and prostrated themselves at his feet, saying, “Please use our modest power to realize the lord’s ideals.” It’s easy to subdue people with power, but it’s hard to make them bow down with virtue. A knight must have power. But if he only has power and no virtue, it’s terrifying. You’ve seen that, haven’t you?Chantillion mulled over Bard’s words, falling into deep thought for several days. It was understandable. Chantillion had somehow come to believe that Bard was on a journey to vanquish villains in the frontier district. Therefore, he had thought that this inspection trip accompanying Bard was essentially a journey to rectify evil. He had never dreamed that he himself would be the one to be rectified.

During their journey, they stopped by a village where they heard that Zendatta was living in the mountains nearby. Chantillion was greatly surprised by this news. Zendatta was a famous blacksmith even in the royal capital, but he had disappeared quite some time ago. Chantillion, having a blade that he couldn’t fix himself, expressed his desire to have his magic sword sharpened by Zendatta. Thus, they climbed the mountain together.

3

Zendatta was a middle-aged man, dressed in simple work clothes, but he had an air of dignity about him.

“May I first see the weapon at your waist? I apologize, but it is a tradition of my lineage. I hope you will allow it.”

Upon Zendatta’s request, Bard handed over his ancient sword, sheath and all. Zendatta drew the sword and took a quick look, but immediately sheathed it again with a frown and returned it to Bard. Next, Chantillion handed over his magic sword. The sheath was plain. When Zendatta drew the sword, surprise flashed in his eyes. After gazing at the magic sword for a while, he said,

“This is the magic sword ‘Pale Lady’, forged by the master craftsman Guido. It has the characteristics I’ve heard about. It seems you’ve had quite a fierce battle recently. There are quite a few minor scratches. You’ve taken good care of it, but there are some damages that can’t be fixed without a blacksmith. But it’s indeed a magnificent magic sword. Thank you for showing me such a fine piece.”

He returned the sword to Chantillion with a respectful demeanor. It seemed he acknowledged Chantillion’s caliber. He probably also knew that this sword was once bestowed as a reward from the king of the time to the Argolide family. When Zendatta asked what he could do for them, Chantillion requested him to sharpen this magic sword. Zendatta readily agreed and kept the sword for the night. To find lodging in the village at the foot of the mountain, Bard and Chantillion rode away from the blacksmith’s shop.

On their way down the mountain path, they encountered a strange group. Leading the group was a knight in an imposing armor adorned with an excessive amount of spikes and decorations. The two following him were also wearing armors that were no less vulgar and brutal. The two behind them were not wearing armor, but their faces were vulgar and brutal. The five horses they were riding were all splendid, too good for their riders.

“Hey, you guys! You’ve been to Zendatta’s place, haven’t you? You didn’t buy a sword, did you?”

The leading knight rudely approached Bard and Chantillion, trying to gauge their situation.

“What’s this? The young one doesn’t even have a sword, and the old man has a pathetic excuse for a sword at his waist. You guys! It’s pitiful to be a knight without money. No, without a sword, you can’t even call yourself a knight.”

Riding on the leading knight’s provocation, the four behind him burst into loud, mocking laughter.

“Even if you had money. Zendatta’s swords are the property of this knight, Tegro Manda. Get out of the way. Don’t block the path of Knight Tegro! Damn. What a big old man and a big horse.”

Despite his swearing, Knight Tegro had to look up at Bard and Yueitan because they were tall. His last words were a complaint about that. Bard and Chantillion gave way, and the five men passed by them with an absurdly arrogant attitude. After they had gone a little way down the road, Bard stopped Yueitan and said to Chantillion,

Their armor was stained with blood.

Chantillion, who seemed not to have noticed, looked a little surprised and then said,

“I’m worried about what kind of lawlessness they will commit at Zendatta’s place.”

Bard nodded, turned Yueitan around, and they returned to Zendatta’s house, keeping a good distance from the five knights.

4

“Hey, hey, Master Zendatta. So, you’re saying you won’t sell a sword to this Knight Tegro Manda, no matter what?”

Knight Tegro’s raspy voice could be heard from quite a distance. It seemed that Zendatta was responding to him, but his voice couldn’t be heard. Bard and Chantillion quickened their horses’ pace.

“You’re getting too big for your boots. How dare a lowly blacksmith like you defy this Knight Tegro Manda. You can’t complain about any divine punishment you receive for this. Huh?”

Knight Tegro’s companions laughed. Tegro had called him a lowly person, but Zendatta was probably of samurai status. His manners and way of speaking made that clear. On the other hand, Knight Tegro was anything but knightly, to put it mildly.

“You don’t like the look in my eyes, do you? Are you counting on the help of the lord? That’s too bad. The lord can’t even speak anymore. After all, he took a direct hit from my mighty sword.”

Knight Tegro let out a loud, boisterous laugh.

“Hey, you guys. Kill them all. I’m sure you’ll find magic swords and whatnot. Get the job done quickly and let’s get out of this miserable place. What the hell are you?”

The last words were directed at Bard and Chantillion, who had just arrived.

“You don’t even have weapons, and you’re wearing such thin leather armor, do you really think you can fight us? I’m delighted. You see, I love it. I love making presumptuous fools beg for their lives, killing them, cutting open their bellies, and looking at their guts. Do you know, guys? The guts of a coward are pale.”

Chantillion, who had been behind Bard, came up beside him and glanced at him. He was asking what they should do. Don’t kill them, Bard said. Chantillion nodded slightly and spurred his horse, Beakley, into a gallop. The rough knights also changed the direction of their horses and charged, shouting insults.

The two without metal armor raised their swords and advanced. Chantillion drove Beakley straight into the face of one of them. The opponent instinctively stopped his horse, and Chantillion approached the other horse, which was protruding to the left, by aligning Beakley’s flank with it. The opponent tried to hastily swing down his sword, but Chantillion quickly struck his wrist and took his sword away. Chantillion then dashed forward, but by that time he had already deeply slashed the wrist of the knight whose sword he had taken. He also cut off the right hand of the other swordsman, along with his sword.

Chantillion continued without stopping his horse. The two in the gaudy metal armor raised their battle axes and spiked clubs. Chantillion drove Beakley between the two of them. Then, he cut off the handles of the descending battle axe and spiked club. The battle axe flew far away, and the spiked club hit the face of the knight who had the battle axe. Of course, it was intentional.

Chantillion stabbed the gap in the helmet of the knight who had the spiked club. The speed of the thrust was impressive, but the speed of the withdrawal was also impressive. The tip of the sword must have pierced the opponent’s eyeball. The knight who was stabbed in the eye fell from his horse, clutching his face. The knight who had the club fly into his face was also holding his face and groaning. Chantillion found a gap in the enemy’s gauntlet and slashed off his right thumb with a flash of his sword. Unable to bear it, the opponent fell from his horse. The four horses that had lost their riders ran off towards the front yard of the house.

“Hey. You thief! Stealing people’s weapons, what a cowardly bastard you are. I’ll punish you, so don’t move!”

Knight Tegro Manda shouted. His entire body was filled with spikes and decorations, making it hard to find a place to attack. At that moment, the man who had been disarmed and had his left hand cut off tried to attack Chantillion from behind with a sword he had picked up from a fallen comrade. Yueitan, carrying Bard, stepped forward and lightly struck the man’s waist with his right front hoof. The hooves of a wild horse are hard and sturdy. And Yueitan was probably the largest horse Bard had ever seen in his life. The blow, though lightly delivered, had tremendous power. The man was blown far away and writhed in agony.

Knight Tegro Manda let out a beast-like roar and charged.

The weapon he wielded was a sword, and it seemed to be of good quality. Chantillion led Beakley to the right. The two faced each other, each looking to their left. Just as Tegro’s sword was about to be swung down, Chantillion struck his right wrist, which held the sword.

“Ah, this is the technique that delivers a shock through the armor,” Bard thought. However, Knight Tegro Manda continued to swing his sword. Chantillion’s technique seemed to have failed. But with terrifying speed, Chantillion pulled back his sword. He then blocked the sword of Knight Tegro Manda, which was swung at a considerable speed. He managed to block it, but Chantillion’s sword broke.

“This is bad. Chantillion can’t fight this enemy without a sword.”

As Bard thought this, Yueitan stepped forward. Without a proper run-up, he jumped over the flailing enemy and landed in front of Knight Tegro Manda. Bard drew his ancient sword and struck Tegro Manda’s sword. At the point of impact, Tegro Manda’s sword broke and flew away. Calling the name of Stavros in his heart, Bard struck Tegro Manda’s helmet. The helmet was split in two. Underneath was a large man with no hair or beard, plump and fat, but his black eyes were strangely cute. Tegro Manda’s eyes rolled back, and he fell from his horse and stopped moving.

“I was overjoyed to finally encounter a real magic sword, but to be able to see it wielded like this. There is no greater fortune than this.”

A familiar voice was heard. Looking back, the old man they had met before coming to Zendatta’s mansion was standing behind him. His words and demeanor were no longer vulgar, but exuded elegance and dignity.

“Master, what do you mean by a real magic sword?”

Zendatta asked the old man. Was this old man also a swordsmith, being Zendatta’s master?

“That will come later. Knights, I have no words to thank you for saving us from danger.”

He said this and bowed to Bard and the others. Zendatta and the others, who seemed to be his disciples and servants, also bowed. Then the old man ordered his disciples and servants to remove the equipment from the ruffians and tie them up. Zendatta did not help, but picked up something and stared at it. It was the sword that Knight Tegro Manda had held, which Bard had broken.

“That was a sword forged by the current Zendatta. It’s not a magic sword, but it was a top-notch, respectable sword. It was a gift to the lord. There’s no doubt that these lawless men did something at the lord’s mansion. I suspect the horses were also stolen from the lord’s mansion. We will take these men away immediately.”

The old man’s words seemed very reasonable, so Bard and Chantillion decided to accompany him. Bard revealed their identities. After some basic treatment, they tied the lawless men to the horses they had ridden and led them away. The old man stayed behind.

5

The lord’s mansion was in an uproar. It seemed to have been attacked by Knight Tegro Manda’s gang when it was understaffed. The lord had also been injured. They were gathering the knights who had been out and were about to send out a punitive force.

Knight Tegro Manda had recently come from somewhere and started making a fortune as a duelist. He had a somewhat cowardly way of doing things, provoking his opponents with his subordinates and then appearing as a proxy in the duel. Of course, after winning, he would extort a large ransom. The mansion he was living in now was also taken in a duel. He was also said to be doing quite a bit of harm to the common people.

As the complaints increased, the lord could no longer ignore them. So he first ordered the submission of a knight’s certificate. The knight’s certificate that was presented was written in his own name, but it stated that he had trained in a far-off country and had been knighted by a knight who no one knew. The achievements listed after that were full of lies. However, because the content was too absurd, to prove it was a lie, they had to call someone with a certain amount of knowledge. While they were considering what to do, this incident occurred.

Impersonating a knight is a very serious crime. The attack on the lord and the lawless behavior of not following the rules of the duel leave no room for leniency. Tegro Manda and his gang will probably be forced to confess their crimes in public, have all their property confiscated, and be sentenced to death. Since they have no other companions besides these five, it is unlikely that Zendatta will be retaliated against out of spite.

However, when Zendatta showed the broken sword to the lord, another problem arose. This sword was a masterpiece that the lord had commissioned the famous craftsman Zendatta to make, and in exchange for it, the lord had given Zendatta a place to live and provided him with fuel and food. The lord was angry that the sword, which was supposed to be a masterpiece forged by a master craftsman, had broken so easily. It was a sword that he had called a family treasure and had shown off to other knights. In other words, Zendatta might be a fake, and if so, his crime would be serious.

Bard reluctantly produced a dagger with the royal seal. The lord, who received it from Chantillion, understood what it was after a while. He opened his eyes wide and his mouth twitched. Then, when Chantillion added the explanation that it belonged to Sir Bard Rowen, the commander of the king’s central army, the lord instinctively knelt down and gave the deepest bow. The others followed suit.

Bard said to the lord, “Lord, I am on a secret mission and have no intention of interfering in the affairs of this land. I may have appeared in your territory unexpectedly and caused you discomfort, but please forgive me. I came here only because I had business with Master Zendatta, and I will leave immediately. This recent disturbance, if I get involved, things will get complicated. Could you handle everything under your command?”

Hearing this, the lord realized. The incident was about a rogue who had pointed a deadly weapon at the country’s general, had attacked the lord’s residence, and had even stolen the family treasure. If the capital found out, a very dishonorable and unfortunate future would await him. Bard, the general, was saying that he would pretend that none of this had happened. The lord hastily nodded and expressed his gratitude for Bard’s consideration.

Bard, with a kind face, turned to Zendatta and said, “I don’t have many acquaintances in the capital, so please write me a letter again.” In other words, Zendatta was close enough to the general to write him a letter directly, and if there were any unreasonable demands in the future, they would reach the general’s ears, Bard suggested to the lord.

The people sitting in a row were all listening to Bard’s words, their ears pricked up like horses. Humans are strange creatures. If you think a gem is a stone, it looks dull, and if you think a stone is a gem, it looks shiny. Now, to these people, General Bard Rowen must have seemed a bundle of dignity and elegance. Until just a moment ago, they must have thought he was a beggar knight from somewhere. Bard added one more push.

“Lord, the sword forged by Master Zendatta was indeed a masterpiece. I have never seen such a sword, other than a magic sword, in all my years. But the sword I clashed with was bad. I can’t reveal the name due to circumstances, but it’s a particularly excellent magic sword in the history of this country. That fake knight came at me with Master Zendatta’s sword. I inadvertently responded with the magic sword.”

With these words, the lord was confronted with the fact that the sword, which had been disgracefully stolen from his mansion, had been swung at the general. While turning a little pale, the lord asked, “Where is that magic sword?”

It would have been fine to rebuke him for his impertinent question, but Bard kindly answered.

“Oh! The sword forged by Master Zendatta was indeed a masterpiece. It even left a big scratch on the magic sword. So I left it with Master Zendatta to be sharpened. I’ll bring it to show you when the sharpening is done.”

The lord was flustered. That would mean calling the general to show him the sword. Even without that, he would want Bard to disappear as soon as possible. “No, that’s fine, you don’t have to come,” he stammered.

After that, with Bard’s mediation, Zendatta agreed to forge a new sword for the lord. Of course, the lord will pay for the materials and labor. The lord urged Bard to stay, but Bard declined, expressing his gratitude. He resisted the temptation to see the surprised face when he was invited.

Bard and Chantillion decided to stay at Zendatta’s house. Upon returning to Zendatta’s house, they were greeted by an old man, who was the previous Zendatta. After a simple but enjoyable dinner, they sipped sake and the old man began to tell the tale of the magic sword.

6 (t/n: previous Zendatta talking)

Well then, let’s start with the well-known story of the magic sword.

The magic swords known today were established over many years by swordsmiths who poured their wisdom and strength into their creation. Young master of Argolide, the “Iele Sichel” (Pale Lady) you possess is one of them. It was forged about two hundred years ago by a swordsmith named Guido, which can be considered the peak of magic sword creation. (t/n: previously Eire Shicheru, westernized it to Iele Sichel)

A single magic sword held enough power to change the outcome of a war. Wars were not as complex and large-scale as they are now, and often the outcome was decided by a duel between representative knights. A superior magic sword could cut through any armor and wound the enemy knight. Even if it didn’t come to a one-on-one fight, having a weapon that could guarantee victory against a formidable enemy gave a significant advantage in the wars of that time.

Also, the only weapon that could counter a demonic beast was a magic sword. A lord who could protect his people from demonic beasts could earn great respect.

Therefore, the magic sword became the highest reward. The king monopolized the rare materials and manufacturing methods, and awarded the magic sword to knights who had achieved feats, instead of land. The magic sword was a much more delightful reward than receiving a small territory.

But times have changed. Wars have become larger and more complex. As armor advanced, even the mighty magic sword was no longer invincible in human combat. Modern full metal armor cannot be cut even by a magic sword. Nowadays, a knight’s sword is large and rugged, designed to blow away the opponent along with their armor. That’s more of a hammer shaped like a sword, and I’d rather not make such a thing. Oh, I’ve said too much.

And then, the demonic beasts disappeared. This might have been the biggest change. As a result, the commonality of steel swords began to be valued more than the rarity of magic swords. After all, you can make about twenty of the best steel swords for the cost and effort of making one magic sword.

Furthermore, the most rare material needed for a magic sword became unavailable. It is still produced in the Mercano Temple Autonomous Region today. But there, they use Holy Hard Silver for sacred tools rather than weapons.

When I was young, I was outraged that the king hadn’t ordered a magic sword for twenty years. But that was for the best. Times have changed. Various metallurgical techniques were born from the efforts to make magic swords. But the magic sword itself is now a relic of the past.

No, no. There may be times when a magic sword is needed. But is there a need to go out of your way to make a new one? The magic sword was a very expensive and important item. Each had a name, and which house had which sword was known to a certain extent by any swordsmith. Magic swords are rarely lost. If they are chipped, they are sharpened again, if they are broken, they are forged again. The number of magic swords does not decrease. There must be many magic swords stacked in the armory of old noble houses. There should be enough magic swords in this country to fight against the same number of demonic beasts that have appeared in this country since the beginning of history.

The value as a reward has been lost. It’s too late for the old noble houses, and the new noble houses don’t see much practical value. From the king’s side, the resistance of the nobles to receiving rewards in the form of money and goods instead of territories has disappeared, so there is no need to force the creation of magic swords.

The fact that I was able to leave the royal capital proves that the era of the magic sword has ended. In the past, a swordsmith who had mastered the method of making a magic sword was never allowed to leave the king. Let’s end the story about the well-known magic swords here for today.

7 (t/n: he’s still talking)

Now then, why did the swordsmiths try to make a magic sword? Why did they think they could make a sword that could cut through a demonic beast?

From here on, it’s a story of legend. A legend passed down among the old swordsmiths. I was able to hear the story from several swordsmiths in my boyhood days. I took my time to organize it.

Once upon a time, the earth was filled with spirits. The spirits lived happily, without quarreling with humans, demi-humans, or beasts. The spirits also possessed mysterious powers. They could teleport to distant places in an instant, talk to friends far away, and had mysterious powers to defeat strong enemies.

Among these spirits, there appeared those with particularly strong powers. There were scholars who argued that they were born from hundreds or thousands of spirits solidifying into one. This powerful spirit was called a divine beast or a holy spirit. It’s not clear how many divine beasts there were. I think there were probably about six or seven.

Eventually, the gods divided into two camps and began to fight. The gods each rallied the spirits to their side in the fight. It is said that humans and demi-humans also sided with the gods, or not. The mountains were torn apart, the earth was scorched, and the war ended with the victory of one side. After a long time, when the gods left the earth and humans began to rule the land, it happened. The appearance of the demonic beast. The king of humans at the time is said to have known the true nature of the demonic beast. And to gain the power to counter the demonic beast, he asked the divine beasts for help.

Whether the divine beasts had sided with either side during the war of the gods is unknown. Anyway, even after the gods and spirits had left, the divine beasts remained on this earth. The divine beasts fulfilled the human king’s wish in a unique way. They transformed into weapons. No, that’s not right. They entered into weapons. The swords and spears that were the incarnations of the divine beasts easily cut through the hard skin and bones of the demonic beasts. They are said to have shattered huge rocks and torn the earth. Depending on how they were used, there were swords that could defeat hundreds of demonic beasts at once. Thus, humans obtained weapons that could counter demonic beasts. Yes, this is the magic sword. This was the real magic sword. While the artifacts of the mythological era are far in the past beyond the reach of history, the traces of this magic sword can be seen up to about three hundred years ago. That’s right. We can trace the traces of the magic sword’s work in the history of various countries and regions.

The swordsmiths who once aspired to make a magic sword had seen a real magic sword. They knew what could be done with a magic sword, what kind of characteristics such a sword had, and they passed this on to their disciples. However, the specifics were kept secret. They were only conveyed in the form of metaphors and legends.

They had no choice but to do so. If the existence and powerful power of the magic sword became widely known, and it became clear who and where it was, it goes without saying what would happen. Wars would break out to seize it. If its characteristics and weaknesses were known, misfortune would befall the holder. Both the holder of the magic sword and their country would never be able to remain peaceful. That’s why the truth and specifics of the magic sword were kept secret. It’s the same as me not telling anyone that you, sir, have a real magic sword.

Thus, those who knew of the ancient magic sword died out, leaving only vague oral traditions. But the swordsmiths who inherited the oral tradition believed that the real magic sword still existed somewhere. So did I. My master believed it too. But my master died without ever seeing a real magic sword. Just like many of his predecessors. I thought I would end such thoughts with me, so I didn’t teach it to the current generation. Do you understand why I was so moved to tears when I saw General Bard’s magic sword?

8

Amazingly, the old man, the previous Zendatta, said he could faintly see the bluish phosphorescence. Of course, neither Chantillion nor the current Zendatta could see it at all. And also, the moment this old man first saw this ancient sword that looked like a hatchet, he recognized it as the real magic sword he had long admired. It was a miraculous insight.

Bard told the two swordsmiths and Chantillion about his encounter with the ancient sword and what followed. The swordsmiths, with Bard’s permission, also allowed their three disciples to attend. Bard’s story took a long time. When Bard concluded his story, saying that he felt Idora’s prayers and Stavros’ soul in the ancient sword, there were those who had tears in their eyes.

According to the conjecture of the previous generation Zendatta, the ancient sword held by Bard is likely inhabited by one of the most powerful divine beasts, Megierion (the divine dragon). Megierion, the ruler of the heavens, the great king of serpents, is a fairy-tale divine spirit known to everyone, said to have bestowed blessings upon the ancient heroes. Everyone looked at the ancient sword with renewed awe.

Knowing the truth about the magic sword, Bard was convinced. Indeed, Van Fleur, the sword of Karz, was an ancient sword just like Bard’s hatchet sword. It was a sword that housed the power of a divine beast.

Bard asked the swordsmith about the spear of King Kherdevaj. The previous generation Zendatta then opined,

“It’s quite possible that it was a real magic sword. However, there are no detailed legends left, and I don’t understand its unique power. If that spear was a magic sword, it means there was a real magic sword that came onto the historical stage just eighty years ago.”

Bard then said that when he first used the ancient sword, he felt a strong sense of exhaustion and thought it was a sword that sucked life to exert power. The swordsmith then replied,

“I’ve never heard such a story. However, it’s because the enormous power of the divine beast dwelling in the sword passes through your body. If you’re not used to it, you might feel very tired or in pain. Anyway, if you look at the legends as a whole, a real magic sword should heal the user’s fatigue and give them strong vitality. You said you’ve been feeling rejuvenated and in great shape lately, didn’t you? That matches exactly with the effects reported for a magic sword.”

He said, laughing. After the conversation settled down, the swordsmith said to his disciple, the current generation Zendatta,

“Master Zendatta. In our school, we first reform the waist of the client. It is said to be for assessing the client’s capacity. Both you and I have done so. But, do you think the meaning of the word ‘capacity’ refers to status, wealth, swordsmanship, number of battles, how to fight, how to maintain, and the character of the owner? That’s not wrong, but I think something crucial is missing.”

“What is the crucial thing?”

“Fate. Or rather, destiny. You could also call it a role. A life where you know your role and fulfill it before you die is a joyous one. Look at General Bard. The real magic sword is a sword inhabited by a divine beast, and unless recognized by the divine beast as its master, it will not exert its true power. General Bard encountered this sword in a small frontier village’s general store. That alone is a story that would make you weak at the knees. Moreover, he has mastered it without knowing it’s a magic sword, and has been recognized by the dwelling divine beast. You’d want to say, can such a thing happen? But, this is the truth. Humans encounter weapons according to their capacity. A knight who encounters an extraordinary weapon also carries an extraordinary destiny. There will surely be a scene where General Bard will need Shantra Megierion. Perhaps it’s a scene that could even change the fate of many countries. The joy of being able to witness and assist in that is the real pleasure of a swordsmith.”

The swordsmith said, laughing cheerfully. Then,

“It was worth moving to such a countryside.”

He said. Chantillion asked the swordsmith if he left the royal capital because the air and water here were good for forging swords.

“Young master. That’s not the case. I actually like places that are bustling with women and alcohol. But in the royal capital, there were too many customers who only sought the name of Zendatta. In such an inconvenient and boring countryside, there are no customers who come by chance. The customers who come here are either special customers or customers with a strong connection. I didn’t expect my disciples to follow me though.”

“Master. I thought I still had things to learn from you, so I accompanied you. I’m glad I did, as I now have a new goal.”

At the words of the current generation Zendatta, the previous generation made a very interesting face.

“A goal?”

“Yes. This.”

Saying so, the current generation showed the broken sword.

“I was proud that it was the best sword. A sword that wouldn’t lose to a magic sword. But it broke like this. There are hardly any scratches on General Bard’s magic sword. I can’t even tell where it was hit this time. My sword was just this much. From now on, I will make a sword that can easily break this sword, just like General Bard’s sword. It’s not a magic sword. I won’t use Holy Hard Silver either. I will definitely find a new, superior method based on steel. Ah. It might become a new magic sword. Yes. I want to create a new magic sword.”

Then, correcting his posture, he deeply bowed to the previous generation and said,

“Master. After I finish forging the sword to present to the lord, I will return to the royal capital. I will find young and motivated engineering scholars, form a team, and dedicate my life to my new goal. Thank you for your guidance until today.”

He declared his determination. The three disciples also bowed their heads with the current generation. The previous generation swordsmith looked at his beloved disciples with a smile.

For some reason, Bard was pleased to hear the words of the current generation swordsmith. The words of the current generation swordsmith are not logical. Isn’t that right? Bard’s sword is a sword into which a divine beast or a holy spirit, a mysterious existence, has entered. The prayers of Idora and the soul of Stavros also dwell in it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of for a mere steel sword to be broken when struck against it. It’s strange to compare them properly in the first place.

But Bard was pleased with this swordsmith who regretted it. He can’t stand it. He can’t bear it. The fact that the sword he had forged with all his heart and soul was easily shattered. It doesn’t matter if the opponent is a sword inhabited by a divine beast. He will forge a sword that won’t lose to it someday. The flame of that determination is now burning in this man’s heart. That flame has burned away all the skills, knowledge, and self-esteem in this man. From the ashes of that, something new is born.

He suddenly thought. Perhaps the swordsmith who first thought of making a magic sword was the same. Wasn’t there a swordsmith who had his forged sword shattered by a sword inhabited by a divine beast? If not, it’s strange. Seeing the terrifying power of a sword inhabited by a divine beast, the idea that something similar can be made without a divine beast is strange. But probably, it’s not about logic. In the heart of a swordsmith whose sword was shattered, a flame was lit to make a sword that wouldn’t lose to that. That flame spread to the hearts of hundreds and thousands of swordsmiths, and after a long, long time, a magic sword was created. Surprisingly, that might be the truth of history. Humans are guided by the light in their hearts, not by logic, and create new things.

8

It was about to dawn. The previous generation swordsmith said he would sharpen Bard’s ancient sword. He said he should be able to sharpen it in a special way. Bard handed over the ancient sword and began to sleep in a corner of the room.

When he woke up, the ancient sword was beautifully sharpened. He didn’t know how it was done, but it no longer looked like a failed hatchet. The dull silver blade, with a divine dragon coiling around it, was a sword worthy of being called a divine sword.

And the previous generation Zendatta had passed away. After he finished sharpening Bard’s sword, he drank a cup of tea, lay down in a room facing the garden with a satisfied look on his face, saying he was tired and would rest a little. When Bard woke up and tried to wake him up, he was told that he had passed away as he was. Bard and Chantillion paid their respects to the previous generation swordsmith, told the current generation swordsmith the address of the engineering scholar Auro, and set off on their journey. The magic sword “Pale Lady”, which the current generation had finished sharpening, was tucked into Chantillion’s waist.