Chapter 89: Blue Lotus

What now?

Though everything had been resolved smoothly, one worry still gnawed at Risir.  Namely, the fact that it had all been built on nothing more than a flimsy, spur-of-the-moment solution.

Regardless, the truth remained: Rodan was, after all, the true owner of Blue Lotus. And as long as the ego sword stayed in his grasp, no one could tell when calamity might strike and expose the truth.

If Rodan discovers the truth?

Risir recalled how he had felt the terror of death even at the mere movement of Rodan drawing his sword—if that walking disaster were to completely lose his head, death was as good as certain.

That was why Risir was devising a plan to put his anxiety to rest once and for all: to secure full ownership rights to Blue Lotus, a right that was already his in essence.

He played a mental simulation.

“This sword is bound to me, you know?”

“Oh, then it’s yours now.”

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. Blue Lotus was a masterforged blade infused with magic. More than that, it carried the weight of countless memories with Riven Blade’s master and stood as a symbol of himself.

Even if Rodan believed that his master’s essence within it had faded, the sword’s value didn’t vanish entirely. On the contrary, as his master’s final trace, he might value it even more.

Ugh…how on earth do I convince him then…

Thus, Risir agonized silently as he stared at Blue Lotus on the ground.

“…”

Rodan stepped forward and picked up the sword.

“Risir.”

He carefully fitted Blue Lotus into its scabbard before handing it to Risir. The meaning behind that action was clear.

“Rodan?”

Instead of speaking further, Rodan simply nodded.

“How could I possibly…”

Risir stammered, flustered—at least on the outside.

Oh, sweet honey bears.

It was really working out this way?

Risir barely stifled a twitching smile. Yet, a nagging doubt pricked at him. How could anything be this convenient?

Before rejoicing, he needed to gauge Rodan’s true intent.

Noticing his look, Rodan nodded in understanding and explained with a bitter smile.

“I’m sure Master will have also wished for this.”

Rodan’s grip on the Blue Lotus tightened, but he forced himself to loosen his hold.

“Ah…”

Risir finally understood Rodan’s actions.

Naturally, Rodan was deeply attached to Blue Lotus—so much so that he would never want to hand it over to anyone else. Yet, the reason he chose to relinquish it was because the presence of his master loomed larger within him than the sword itself.

Rodan could no longer hear his master’s voice or feel her presence. All he could do was guess and measure on his own. What would Master have done? What would have happened if she were here?

In essence, the transfer of Blue Lotus’ ownership wasn’t Rodan’s decision—it was the will of the master residing within him.

—You imbecile…What kind of swordsman would ever hand over such a fine blade to someone else…? A true swordsman should seek to claim it for themselves, even if it means shedding blood…

“…”

Risir didn’t know much about Rodan’s master, but one thing was clear—she sure must’ve been a wonderful person.

“Don’t you think so too?”

In any case, there was no reason not to play along when the other party had laid out the board so favorably.

But how could he steer this situation in the most desirable direction?

After a brief moment of thought, Risir spoke.

“I don’t know your master as well as you do. The only experience I’ve shared with her was the brief conversation we had. And even then, most of it was about you.”

“…”

Risir clearly noticed the way Rodan’s protruding lips subtly retracted, the way the corners of his mouth twitched.

As expected, Rodan seemed to harbor jealousy over the attention his master had shown toward Risir.

He’s probably wondering, “Why didn’t Master speak to me directly instead of through this guy?”

Risir felt the need to dispel that jealousy, and for good reason.

Looking back on the events just now, and digging deeper, there were more than a few oddities. Dissatisfaction inevitably bred suspicion.

For now, Rodan was following his master’s will and handing over the cherished sword. But if dissatisfaction led him to revisit the events?

A spark of doubt could easily grow into a wildfire.

That’s why…

“What did…Master say about me?”

Risir decided to satisfy Rodan. After all, no one would bother to question a happy experience by dredging up doubts one by one.

“Regarding what she said about you…”

Risir chuckled softly. To anyone watching, it would have seemed as if he were recalling a proud guardian boasting about their beloved charge.

“She spoke endlessly about how different you are from us.”

“Us?”

“Yes. Your master spoke of herself and me in that way.”

“…”

Risir hadn’t lied. He had merely added a touch of finesse to his tone.

Through this, the vile woman who had cursed her disciple behind his back transformed into a stern yet affectionate true mentor, doting on her disciple in private.

This process repeated several times.

“…”

And as it progressed, Rodan’s expression softened bit by bit.

Gone was the reluctant swordmaster who had begrudgingly given up his blade. In his place stood a man so delighted he didn’t know what to do with himself.

I think…that’s good enough now.

It was time to wrap things up.

Risir finally spoke the words he’d been holding back.

“Watching the way she talked about you, it suddenly struck me. If only I were cherished by someone to that degree as well…”

Risir’s voice trailed off with feigned uncertainty. He had kept his promise never to lie, not even in the end.

What is wrong with this brat…?

The murderous fiend in Risir’s inner world recoiled in disgust. The innocent-looking whelp was no different from a corrupt high-ranking priest, who deceived not only the gods but even himself.

“Risir.”

Rodan grabbed Risir by the shoulder. He had the face of someone who had just received praise from a superior and was now swaggering in front of a subordinate.

“I know you’ll find someone who’ll cherish you the same way.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Why else would she have chosen to borrow your body?”

Rodan offered Blue Lotus once more. This time, however, the gesture was filled with joy and felt remarkably lighthearted.

“Please take this sword, Risir.”

He wasn’t merely obeying his master’s will; his eager manner unmistakably revealed his own resolve.

The swordmaster had decided to bestow the weapon upon his lovely fellow disciple.

“…I understand. I will do my utmost not to bring shame upon either her or you.”

As Risir accepted the sword with a solemn nod, the swordmaster’s smile grew even wider.

There was no mistaking it now—the man was clearly looking at Risir with adoration.

All of a sudden, Rodan seized Risir’s shoulders with a firm grip. The look in his eyes overflowed with abundant fondness.

“Listen to me, Risir. You wouldn’t know, but in front of me, Master was always unbearably strict. Perhaps she feared I’d become conceited, but she never offered even a scrap of praise.

In fact, she never once called me her disciple. In that sense, wouldn’t you say you’re a better man than I? After all, you were the one who got to be called a disciple firsthand.”

Rodan reached into his pocket and pulled out something, handing it to Risir.

It was a notebook filled with his careful writings.

“This is…?”

“I’ve summarized the movements and principles that form the core of my sword, approached from a superficial perspective. It’s more like the trace of my struggle to attain enlightenment. It’s now useless to me, so I’ll give it to you. I can’t guarantee anything, but it might be of some help to you.”

“…!”

Risir’s eyes widened.

He makes it sound like some random junk, but it’s really a manual filled with a swordmaster’s teachings. And there’s only one copy in existence.

Born into a family of swordsmen, Risir knew the true worth of what Rodan had so casually handed him.

Had he shown that manual to his former self, he would have been utterly astounded. Most likely, this would have been the case not just for a bastard but for any knight.

It was a treasure capable of captivating any swordsman.

If someone were to drop it into Bendel and cry, “Now, kill each other!” only a single knight would remain.

“Since you’ve offered it, I gratefully accept!”

Taking the manual, Risir started wondering.

But what happens to our relationship if I read this? I’m both the disciple of Rodan’s master and Rodan’s own disciple. And since I pretended to be his master, I suppose I became his master too…

Feeling his mind beginning to spin, Risir decided to stop overthinking.

“Hahaha! A boldness befitting your talents! That’s exactly how a man like you should be! I like that about you! Right, since you accept it gratefully—hey, Fyunn. If you have anything fitting for this fella, see to it that he gets it.”

Rodan nonchalantly tossed a pouch onto the desk, then before leaving the shop, he bid Risir a final farewell.

“It was a pleasure, Risir. I plan to spend some time organizing the insights I gained today. The first step is to reflect on the path I’ve walked so far. In that spirit, I want to thank you once again.

Risir, if you hadn’t thwarted those cultists and convinced me, I would have crossed a point of no return. I would’ve lost the right to even face Master. Convey my thanks and my apologies to your friends. By all rights, I should go to them myself, but…”

Rodan paused with an awkward laugh.

“I’m just not used to this sort of thing.”

Risir silently returned the smile.

There was truth in his words. He knew that if Rodan were to barge in apologetically, the others would be more frightened than pleased—though judging by his current demeanor, that might not be the case.

“Anyway. If fate allows it, let’s meet again. Under even better circumstances.”

The swordmaster departed.

Meanwhile, someone approached Risir with fierce determination—the dwarf girl, Fyunn.

The little weapon shop owner marched right up to him.

This is a chance to hand over my armaments to a genius swordsman—one who earned Riven Blade’s approval and received an ego sword!

“My man!”

Her eyes sparkled as she looked him up and down.

“You heard Riven Blade, right? If you want something, don’t hesitate to tell me! And feel free to take a good look around!”

“…”

Though bewildered, Risir began surveying the interior of the shop.

Please, please!!!

Fyunn silently prayed that he would take an interest in the weapons she had crafted.

“Um, by any chance…”

“Yeah, okay! Got anything you want?!”

“Do you sell magic wands and the like, too?”

“?”

After that, Risir immediately returned to City Councilor Lan’s manor to report the situation.

“Risir!”

Lan and three powerhouses rushed out to greet him.

“Are you okay?! That lunatic didn’t pull any crazy stunts, did he?!”

Shakan and the others regarded Risir as if he were a ghost. How had he come back so casually after being hauled off by that rogue swordmaster?

Even calling it astonishing wouldn’t do it justice.

“Huh…?”

A moment later, their eyes turned to Risir’s waist. They found an unfamiliar sword hanging there.

Risir was a mage to their knowledge, so why was he suddenly bearing a sword? Moreover, it was an exceptionally fine blade. Its scabbard, embossed with an antique blue flower motif, was a work of art in itself.

“…Hold on.”

In that very moment, they recalled the name of a particular sword—Blue Lotus. The cherished weapon whose name symbolized the “Riven” of the swordmaster’s title.

“Could that sword…be Blue Lotus?”

Risir was surprised.

“Huh, you recognize it?”

“…!”

The young mage who had been taken by the Swordmaster had returned—holding the very sword the swordmaster treasured as if it were his own life.

“Everyone?”

City Councilor Lan, the three powerhouses, and even the butler and servants stationed nearby all instinctively backed away from the young mage.