Chapter 35

The Swordsmanship Genius Possessed by a God — Chapter 35

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On a cliff a short distance from Stoneville.

The swordsmen of the Flying Sword Division and Steel Castle had gathered together, looking down below.

A deep valley swept by biting winds.

This was the place known as the Sword Graveyard.

Looking down at the windswept valley, Lucas spoke.

“So this is it. The Sword Graveyard.”

“It's been a long time since I came here myself.”

The Lord of Steel Castle had also joined this mission.

It was a mission that had mobilized one of the castle lords who supported Vishken.

Perhaps because of his presence, even the knights of the Empire on the opposite cliff were refraining from making any reckless moves.

“That blacksmith Hestoa must have been quite an eccentric. To think he'd decide to make his own grave in a place like this.”

The Sword Graveyard was said to contain swords left behind by Hestoa, a legendary blacksmith of the past.

It had once been a much-discussed location among mercenaries and adventurers, but traces of the Demon Sword had recently been discovered here.

“Do you really believe the Demon Sword is here, Castle Lord?”

“Most likely.”

The discovery of the Demon Sword's traces had begun with a particular incident.

“Three months ago, the Rock Mercenary Corps explored the Sword Graveyard. But only one person returned.”

“The youngest porter?”

“That's right. The boy was possessed by something. He was half out of his mind.”

The Lord of Steel Castle recalled what had happened.

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The Lord of Steel Castle had met the porter personally.

Three of the swordsmen from Steel Castle who had gone to bring him in had been injured.

“What happened inside?”

“The sword... the sword...”

“A sword?”

“The sword... the D-Demon Sword... Aaaaagh!”

Even in the presence of the Lord of Steel Castle, the young porter continued to thrash about like a madman.

The Lord of Steel Castle subdued the porter and confined him. After raging for some time, the porter finally regained his senses a month later.

“I-I don't really know what happened either. I was just working as a porter when I found a red sword deep inside the graveyard.”

“A red sword?”

“Yes. The moment I grasped that sword, I lost consciousness. And when I came to again...”

The Rock Mercenary Corps had already been completely wiped out.

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“That young porter slaughtered dozens of seasoned mercenaries. All because he was possessed by a single sword.”

Lucas's eyes gleamed at those words.

A young porter who had never even held a sword had slaughtered dozens of veteran mercenaries and gained the ability to fight the swordsmen of Steel Castle.

It was certainly no ordinary occurrence.

“What happened to that sword?”

“I don't know. When the porter emerged from the Sword Graveyard, there was already nothing in his hands.”

“So it's still somewhere in there.”

“Most likely.”

The Lord of Steel Castle nodded.

“Considering the sword's appearance and abilities as described by the porter, and the circumstances of its discovery... I'd say there's over a ninety percent chance that the real Demon Sword is inside.”

“I see.”

That ninety percent probability was the Lord of Steel Castle's personal opinion.

But Lucas didn't find his confidence unreasonable.

He couldn't imagine another sword possessing such power.

“By the way, hadn't we originally agreed to wait for the Empire to make the first move?”

Originally, Steel Castle and the Flying Sword Division had planned to observe the Empire's movements and respond accordingly.

But today, Lucas had suddenly proposed changing the operation.

He suggested searching the Sword Graveyard as quickly as possible and devoting all their efforts to securing the Demon Sword.

“Is this because of the Second Squad Leader's speculation?”

Lucas nodded at the Lord of Steel Castle's question.

“That's right.”

“That the one here might be a fake?”

“Didn't you say ninety percent? If there's a ten percent chance it's a fake, we need to establish its authenticity as quickly as possible.”

There was logic to his reasoning.

If the Demon Sword in that place was a fake, they would need to determine that as soon as possible so they could resume searching for the real one.

Even so, to make such a swift and decisive judgment.

The Lord of Steel Castle smiled faintly as he looked at Lucas.

“You really should be the next family head.”

“...Save the unnecessary remarks for later.”

Lucas began walking toward the valley below the cliff.

“Let's go.”

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The boy who had emerged from the forge held a hammer in one hand and wore a shabby sword at his waist.

A hammer and a sword.

Wearing an outfit that somehow both suited and didn't suit him, the boy asked,

“A sword? What kind of sword?”

“That's what I need to find out. Are these things for sale?”

“Yes.”

“May I look around?”

The boy nodded at Allen's question.

Having obtained permission, Allen calmly examined the forge.

No, more precisely, he pretended to examine it.

His eyes swept over the forge, but his attention was still focused on the boy.

‘He really does look young.’

Renard Maximus.

That was the boy's name, as Allen remembered it.

No, he wasn't even sure whether he should call this fellow a boy.

His actual age was probably several years greater than Allen's.

‘It's been a long time, you fellow.’

Renard had been one of Allen's comrades in the suicide squad.

Even back then, Renard had looked much younger than his age, but now he looked like an actual boy.

‘How does he manage to look so young while doing such rough blacksmithing work?’

And blacksmithing wasn't the only thing he did.

He was a blacksmith and a swordsman.

He fought against demons and sometimes repaired his comrades' equipment.

The scars on those palms, split open and hardened with calluses, were not wounds that could have come from wielding a hammer alone.

Renard watched Allen closely as he examined the forge.

He looked as though he were waiting for something.

“They're all excellent.”

For a moment, Renard's expression brightened.

However—

“But none of them are quite what I'm looking for.”

At Allen's next words, Renard's expression immediately fell.

“You couldn't find anything you wanted?”

“Not among these.”

“There are better ones inside.”

There was pride as unyielding as stone in his words.

Allen could strongly sense his determination to have the things he had made acknowledged.

It was almost as though he were saying, Let's see you refuse to acknowledge these.

“May I see those too?”

At Allen's question, Renard looked him up and down.

After considering it briefly, he answered.

“Follow me.”

Renard turned sharply and headed inside.

As Allen followed him, the air grew even hotter.

The two passed through the forge and headed toward a storeroom in the back.

Inside the storeroom, fewer pieces of equipment were displayed than outside.

“You said you wanted to look at swords, right? The swords are over here.”

Allen examined the swords under Renard's guidance.

He could sense their sharpness without even touching them. When he picked one up and held it, its weight distribution and rigidity were also perfect.

Every one of them was worthy of being called a fine sword.

Glancing behind him, Allen saw that Renard's expression practically said,

Go ahead and tell me these aren't good enough either.

Seeing the pride Renard took in his work, Allen asked,

“Did you make all of these yourself?”

Apparently taking Allen's question as a compliment, Renard shrugged and answered,

“Not all of them. Some were made by my father.”

“Where is your father?”

“He passed away. Three years ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that...”

Although his answer sounded casual, Allen could sense the sorrow he was keeping tightly suppressed.

Perhaps following in his father's footsteps as a blacksmith was Renard's own way of remembering him.

“These are excellent swords.”

“Aren't they?”

“Yes. Every one of them is a fine sword.”

Though he was a young blacksmith, Renard's skills were beyond reproach.

And that was only natural.

‘Because this fellow is a blacksmith born with divine craftsmanship.’

Occasionally, people were born into the world with extraordinary talents.

Among them, Renard had been born with the blessing of the god of blacksmiths. The Maximus family had possessed this blessing for generations.

A genius who had already reached the level of Meister at a young age.

That was Renard Maximus.

“However... there isn't a sword here that meets the standard I'm looking for.”

“Pardon?”

Renard frowned in disbelief.

Judging by his reaction, he seemed to think Allen was deliberately finding fault.

“What kind of sword are you looking for, exactly?”

“I'm looking for a sword better than this one.”

As he spoke, Allen held out the sword he was carrying.

“Just how good could that sword possibly...?”

Renard's eyes widened as he took Allen's sword.

The moment the scabbard touched his hand, Renard felt it.

This was no ordinary sword.

“Th-this... Could this possibly be...?”

“Yes. You may draw it.”

The moment he received permission, Renard drew Allen's sword.

A blade emitting a faint green glow emerged from the scabbard.

For the first time in a very long while, Renard felt a thrill run through his entire body.

“Incredible...”

Renard's reaction was only natural.

This was no ordinary sword.

‘I'm certainly benefiting from the supreme commander's generosity.’

Griffin.

One of the Thirty-Two Famous Swords of the Continent.

Although it couldn't compare to the Five Great Swords, Griffin was not something one would expect to encounter in a small town like this.

Even a blacksmith blessed by a god like Renard couldn't simply forge a famous sword on Griffin's level.

“This is Griffin, isn't it?”

Allen was startled by Renard's question.

He had expected Renard, being an exceptional blacksmith, to recognize Griffin's value, but he hadn't imagined he would even identify it by name.

“How did you know?”

“I've memorized the appearances and characteristics of the Five Great Swords, the Ten Great Extraordinary Swords, and the Thirty-Two Famous Swords.”

Allen had forgotten.

This fellow Renard had an eccentric streak.

Still, he hadn't expected Renard to possess such extensive knowledge already at this age. His talent exceeded even Allen's expectations.

“That's impressive. I didn't expect you to recognize it at a glance.”

“It's not something easily obtained... You must come from an important background.”

Renard's attitude became noticeably more respectful.

Having extensive knowledge of swords, Renard also knew that people who possessed such weapons were usually of high status.

“You don't need to concern yourself with that. Right now, I'm simply here to find a sword.”

“A sword more valuable than Griffin, in a small town like this?”

Renard's reaction as he asked was not one of bewilderment.

Instead, there was a hint of wariness in his eyes.

‘He's realized I've come looking for the Demon Sword.’

The owner of Griffin was searching for a sword even better than Griffin in a small town like this.

It was obviously strange, without needing to think too deeply about it.

“I'm sorry, but there isn't a sword like that here. And I can't make one either.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Please leave now.”

It went beyond mere wariness.

Although Allen hadn't even mentioned the Demon Sword yet, he could sense a faint anger from Renard.

Why was that?

After considering it briefly, Allen nodded.

“Understood. Then I'll come back another time...”

It was then.

Step.

The presence of someone outside.

Allen and Renard simultaneously turned their gazes toward the storeroom entrance.

The presence continued approaching. Allen and Renard stepped outside.

The visitor who had entered the forge without a word was a tall man whose head and body were concealed beneath a black robe.

“So you were inside.”

“You visited once before.”

“You remember me?”

“We don't get many customers here. Have you come to look at swords again today?”

“Yes.”

The man nodded and surveyed the inside of the forge.

His face was shadowed beneath his black clothing.

The moment he passed beside Allen,

‘This man...’

Allen's eyes flashed.

‘He's a demonic human.’