Chapter 18: Unbreakable Steel

Afterward, Constel buzzed with talk of Atzier becoming a teacher. The absurd(?) story that Frondier had wiped out a monster horde with “fireworks” quickly died down.

“Aster, are you all right?”

Runia approached him with a worried expression. She had heard that Atzier had beaten him without letting him land a proper attack.

“I’m fine. I’m not hurt, either.”

Though not being hurt was precisely what made him angry.

Just then, he heard passing students snickering. Aster was well liked, but there were envious students everywhere. A commoner blessed with exceptional Divine Power and talent—he was the perfect target for jealousy.

“Strutting around like Constel’s brightest prospect, and look at him now...”

The voice sounded casual, but the words were clearly meant to be heard.

Runia whipped her head around. Aster could only see the back of her head, but the student who had been mocking him took one look at her face, squeaked in fright, and fled.

When she turned back to Aster, she wore an innocent smile.

“Aster, don’t worry so much. I heard Frondier got hit practically everywhere. He only stopped there with you because you’re that good.”

“...”

“Aster?”

Her words reminded Aster of Frondier’s sparring match earlier. Whatever it might have looked like to anyone else, Frondier had clearly fought a little better than he had.

The question was the gap. The gap between him and Frondier.

As Runia said, Atzier had not pulled his punches against Frondier. The instant he saw an opening, he struck without hesitation. Frondier tried to respond, but was helpless against the onslaught.

Yet he had avoided blows to his face, jaw, and the vital points along the center of his body.

And then there was the final throw. Unlike Aster, who had been laid down like a child, Frondier had been thrown brutally.

Atzier clearly hadn’t gone easy on him. Could that mean he hadn’t been able to?

‘I thought I’d avoid relying on Divine Power as much as possible.’

Even that had been arrogant. Without Divine Power, Aster wasn’t sure he could beat Frondier, let alone Atzier.

Still, wallowing in inferiority or envying Frondier simply wasn’t like Aster.

But he couldn’t stand losing, either.

He merely considered how he could improve as he was now. Much as he disliked it, he already knew the answer.

“... Haah.”

“Why the sigh?”

“I’ll have to see my sister. She’s always in the sparring room after school.”

Constel’s most technically skilled swordswoman. Rationally speaking, she was the perfect choice. Now that he recognized his shortcomings, Aster intended to ask Elin to teach him, even if he had to bow his head.

He could already picture her dismissive look as she said, “Hmm, really?”

But Runia’s expression turned a little peculiar.

“Hmm, why don’t you go another time?”

“Why?”

“I overheard something earlier. I don’t think Elin will be in the training room today.”

“What? She’s going straight home?”

That was unusual. Was she sick?

Aster was about to start worrying, but Runia shook her head.

“No, she’s meeting a blacksmith.”

“A blacksmith...?”

Aster looked more puzzled than ever.

* * *

“... Amazing.”

Elin stared blankly at the finished sword.

A silver gleaming blade, with a plain hilt beneath it. The guard separating them was small but sturdy. The length suited her perfectly, allowing her to wield it with either one hand or two.

Its design was unimpressive in every respect, but Elin recognized its worth at a glance.

“Isn’t it?”

Beside her, Frondier nodded in satisfaction. After Elin had nearly been scammed, he had introduced her to a blacksmith.

The blacksmith’s name was Neil Jacques.

Her eyes shining, Elin asked Neil, “May I touch it?”

“Oh, of course. I made it for you, after all.”

Neil bowed deferentially, quite at odds with his muscular bulk. His face was thoroughly amiable, always sporting a broad grin.

At first, that face had made Elin distrust him. Now that she had seen his sword, she had completely changed her mind.

Elin held a finger horizontally and balanced the sword on it. She was checking not only its center of gravity but also the blade’s curvature and any damage.

‘... Perfect.’

As a test, she sent a little Aura through it. The energy she released flowed straight into the sword without obstruction or wavering.

“... Amazing! It’s perfect!”

“Haha, such high praise. I hardly know what to do with myself...”

Neil placed a hand on his head and bowed. His deference was so unlike a blacksmith that this impression had kept him unpopular to this day. His skill was beyond reproach, but he had yet to receive recognition.

“Frondier, how do you know someone like him? How did you meet?”

At Elin’s question, Frondier smiled awkwardly.

“Well, as I said last time, we aren’t acquainted. I just know of him.”

Elin turned to Neil, who nodded as well.

“Yes. It was Lord Frondier, wasn’t it? This is my first time meeting him, too. I don’t know why he chose to commission someone like me, but I’m deeply honored.”

“Frondier, have you ever visited this smithy before?”

“No.”

Elin couldn’t understand it. They had never once met, yet one knew the other? This blacksmith named Neil wasn’t even famous.

Besides, Frondier had said, “His skill is the real thing. You can trust him.” That meant he already knew how good Neil was. Of course, that was why he had recommended him to her so confidently.

But even when she directed her questioning gaze at Frondier, he merely smiled.

* * *

Alongside Saibel’s father, Daud Forte, Neil was one of the blacksmiths players visited most often.

Unlike the usual stern or hearty image of a blacksmith, Neil was shy and cautious. Daud had taken all the stereotypical blacksmith traits for himself, though his line of work seemed to call for delicacy instead.

The standard route was therefore to obtain a weapon from Neil, then commission Daud to engrave a magic circle on it.

Neil was another piece of knowledge I already possessed. He had helped me a great deal when I was a player. That made explaining our acquaintance difficult, but I decided to push ahead without an explanation.

Having Neil supply Elin’s weapons would be beneficial regardless.

Neil addressed me.

“Since you’re here, Mr. Frondier, would you like something yourself? To thank you for trusting me and bringing me a customer, I’ll give you one weapon free of charge.”

“Any weapon?”

“Of course.”

I looked around the smithy. Even without being custom-made like Elin’s sword, Neil’s weapons were excellent.

Anything I chose here would prove useful. At my current skill level, I didn’t need a custom-made weapon anyway.

But since coming to this world, I had already developed a habit.

I couldn’t simply choose “anything.”

[Neil Jacques’s Iron Long Spear]

? Grade: Intermediate

? Description: A long spear cast by Neil Jacques. Made for practice, but of excellent quality. Plain and unadorned, yet faultless as a weapon.

[Neil Jacques’s Throwing Dagger]

? Grade: High

? Description: A dagger cast by Neil Jacques. A commissioned item that remained in the smithy after the order was canceled midway. Among daggers without magical treatment, few can surpass it.

I was adding everything I saw to my Workshop. Though I seemed to be browsing casually, my eyes were already reading their information.

Then, suddenly, my gaze stopped on something.

[Neil Jacques’s Short Sword]

? Grade: Unique

? Description: A masterpiece that even the renowned blacksmith Neil Jacques cannot guarantee he could recreate. From the blade’s strength and sharpness to the craftsmanship of its hilt, it is worthy of earning a name of its own. However, its awkward blade length has left it without a buyer.

Ability Details >

- Eternal Edge: This weapon’s blade does not wear down. The only way to remove its sharpness is to destroy the weapon itself.

... Unique?

What was this?

As though entranced, I walked over and picked up the sword I had checked in the Workshop.

“Oh, Mr. Frondier. That’s just something I made to pass the time.”

“To pass the time?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say I simply let my hands go where they pleased. Haha.”

The blade was hidden in its scabbard. Slowly, I drew it out, revealing it.

“...!”

I heard Elin gasp behind me.

... Could this be...?

To confirm the thought flashing through my mind, I used the skill Analysis.

Unlike with Weaving, the results came quickly this time. There was just one line.

- This sword’s blade is made of unbreakable steel.

“... Unbreakable steel.”

The fabled steel that had so captivated Elin not long ago. Now it was in my hand—and as a finished Unique-grade weapon, no less.

“Oh, goodness, unbreakable steel? It’s nothing like that. I just gathered some ordinary scraps of iron—”

“Mr. Neil, the reason you’re trying to hide this sword is its blade length, isn’t it?”

I held the sword horizontally.

... It really was an awkward length. It seemed intended as a one-handed sword, but it was a little shorter than what was generally called a short sword. Yet it was too large to be a dagger.

It couldn’t be concealed inside clothing for a surprise attack, but it lacked the reach for an open, head-on fight.

Its length alone, visible even in the scabbard, had probably put off every buyer. Even if someone had examined it, unbreakable steel was so rare that only a handful of people had ever seen it.

‘... What a waste.’

Still, putting it back would be far too much of a waste. Very few weapons made of unbreakable steel reached Unique grade. And this one was even worthy of earning its own name.

Simply put, that meant something like Gram or Mjolnir in my Workshop. It had the potential to become famous enough for people to call it by a new name.

Moreover, Eternal Edge was an ability gained only when unbreakable steel had been worked to perfection.

True to its name, unbreakable steel was incredibly difficult to damage. A properly made blade of the metal would never chip, and the metal itself was not easily destroyed in the first place.

In most cases, it became a lifelong companion, remaining at its wielder’s side until death.

That was why a blade of unbreakable steel couldn’t be ground down. That was what it meant not to wear away. There was only one way to sharpen it: hammering.

Thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of hammer blows, and unimaginably high temperatures, sharpened unbreakable steel little by little.

It wasn’t something one person could reasonably accomplish alone.

“... I’ll take this one.”

“P-pardon?”

Neil seemed flustered by my words, but my mind was made up.

“I’ll take this weapon. If giving it away for free troubles you, I’ll pay a fair pri—”

“Oh, no, no! I’d be truly delighted if you would use it, Mr. Frondier! I was at a loss because no one would take it.”

A blacksmith knew the worth of his own creations. It must have pained him to see a Unique-grade masterpiece worthy of its own name gathering dust in his smithy.

If I took this weapon and earned it a fitting name, that would be a way of repaying him, too.

‘... Wait. This length.’

A thought struck me. What if I held one in each hand? In other words, used them as paired swords?

This awkwardly short length would actually make them easier to handle. The blades would be less likely to get in each other’s way.

Of course, there was no other Unique-grade weapon of comparable quality and similar length. That was why it couldn’t be used as part of a pair.

... But I could do it. I had Black River.

Perhaps this weapon was ideally suited to dual wielding.