Ch.177Fortress of Blades. Amarantin (2)

After entrusting my sword, I took out the greatsword I had commissioned from Shahelm’s master craftsman a very long time ago.

It was an enormous sword with a blade over 2 meters long, but I could wield it as if it were an extension of my limbs.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

“Hmm! Good. My skills haven’t rusted yet.”

Dual swords were faster, but I still preferred the weight of a greatsword.

Even though the dual swords could be combined into a spear, I could never get comfortable with spears, and now that Raisha had become an Aura user, our party didn’t need two spear wielders.

Besides, we were adventurers, not mercenaries, so we had to prepare more for battles against beasts and monsters rather than humans.

When humans are cut by orichalcum, they merely bleed, but when unholy or blasphemous monsters are cut by orichalcum—steel forged by the sun—they suffer damage similar to being cursed.

Well, since the sun drove away their progenitors, the creatures of darkness, it makes sense that they would be vulnerable to weapons imbued with the essence of the sun.

“It’s impressive how you swing such a sword. Men are lucky to be so strong.”

“Not necessarily. There are quite a few men who became eunuchs after harassing female Aura users.”

“That was information I didn’t really need to know…”

In Amarantin, the city of swords and blades, elven archers who weren’t spear wielders but bow users weren’t welcomed anywhere.

In this city where elves wielded curved blades and dwarves fought with cleavers, the elven women who had been called “quiver-carriers” (a derogatory term for archers) were bored at the inn and were watching me train with my greatsword.

“Don’t you need basic strength to shoot a bow too? Strong bows are difficult to draw, aren’t they?”

“That’s true. But even though we’ve awakened our Aura, we’re still women. No matter how skilled we are, we can’t beat men in raw strength.”

“Hmm…”

She was right.

Aura amplifies existing strength; it doesn’t create strength from nothing.

If we assume a woman’s strength limit is 5 and a man’s is 10, with Aura providing a 10-fold amplification, a female Aura user’s strength would be 50, while a male’s would be 100.

A difference of 5 becomes a difference of 50.

And that order of magnitude difference was not something easily overcome.

The same applies to physical enhancements.

Even with biological enhancements, men have more testosterone than women, so the same amount of enhancement drugs yields greater strength increases for men. Men also have higher bone density, allowing for greater bone strength enhancement, and are less immunologically sensitive, making them less likely to suffer from autoimmune disorders when subjected to various enhancement drugs.

Technical augmentations were also more limited for women.

Women’s smaller frames make artificial organ implantation more difficult, and even if arms and legs were replaced, their pelvic and spinal strength is lower than men’s, making them ultimately inferior versions of augmented men.

Even when inserting armor plating in the abdomen, the presence of a uterus requires more precise placement of augmentation devices, and during pregnancy, internal armor would compress the uterus, requiring removal of the augmentation for normal fetal development.

Whether through Aura amplification, drug enhancement, or augmentation implants, women couldn’t surpass men given the same time, effort, and resources.

It was a cruel truth for women who wanted to become stronger, but that was the way of the world.

Humanity had evolved that way since the days of old Earth, and changing that was impossible.

“Do you ever wish you had been born a man?”

“…Well, I can’t say I haven’t thought about it. There are advantages to being a man, and advantages to being a woman. You know what I mean, right?”

I nodded.

People commonly think that in a patriarchal system, weak women are the most despised.

But that’s incorrect.

For example, when we think of a woman who stays cooped up at home, we might imagine a cute, somewhat gloomy girl with large breasts (important), but when we think of a man in the same situation, we imagine a greasy-haired loser with acne.

In the immense social pressure of patriarchy, the most despised isn’t the weak woman, but the incompetent man.

“Women have their own strengths. This might be uncomfortable to hear, but women weren’t born to fight.”

“A sad truth. That’s why people like you are natural predators to women.”

“…Me?”

“Yes. You’ve heard of ‘women’s tears,’ right? When a woman cries, people are programmed to comfort her. That’s how society works, and it’s encoded in our genes.”

I nodded.

When a man cries, he’s pathetic or weak, or both, but when a woman cries, a man will tear off his own coat to wipe away her tears.

Not me, though.

“But you’re immune to that conditioning. Whether they cry or run… if you decide someone needs to die, you kill them.”

“…I’ve seen enough women’s tears to drown in.”

“Let me guess. You’ve beheaded women who treated you like a nobody and acted disrespectfully?”

“Of course.”

It might be a hasty generalization, but women had this trait.

The trait being a ‘prejudice that they would be safe.’

-What kind of man are you to hit a woman! You’re not a real man!-

…This is engraved in most men’s minds.

Women typically acquire this tendency when they’re young. Biologically, girls develop faster than boys, so roughly between ages 10-13, girls are temporarily physically stronger than boys. Combined with social perceptions, girls in this age range become virtually lawless.

If they kick boys, adults respond with, “My, what a spirited girl.”

If they’re disrespectful to adults, it’s, “What a bold little girl.”

When boys tattle with runny noses, they’re told, “She’s only doing that because she likes you,” leaving boys with no way to win.

Of course, I never attended school, and after I gouged out the eyes of about 30 girls who mocked me and sold them to pedophiles, no more girls teased me.

More accurately, no girls approached me at all.

“People are all the same… Seeing is believing. They don’t properly value what they haven’t experienced themselves.”

“I agree.”

Lucia nodded, and Casia nodded too.

“I didn’t expect you to agree… Shouldn’t women feel solidarity with each other?”

“Oh, but we’re not human women.”

“Ah… right, of course.”

Nothing was more meaningless than judging other races by human standards.

If everyone in the world judged others by individual standards like I do, the world would be more peaceful, but as always, that’s impossible.

As I was sharing thoughts and philosophy with the elves, Simon appeared driving a carriage.

“Knight of the Sun, Sir Victor Walker. It seems things have gotten rather troublesome.”

“Yeah… I can roughly estimate what’s happening just by looking at what’s loaded in the carriage.”

“The duel location is set at Martyr’s Square, they say.”

“Damn it.”

Simon’s carriage was filled with invitations.

Not just invitations, of course. Most came with boxes full of expensive ornaments to dress up crude phrases like, “Hey! I heard you have a badass sword? Then in this city of blades, let’s have a proper man-to-man fight!”

They spent so much on these gifts because if I didn’t accept the duel, it would all be for nothing.

“When will the sword be completed?”

“How would I know? But I can’t go face challengers expecting an orichalcum sword with just a plain steel blade.”

Naturally, most challengers want me to bring an amazing orichalcum sword.

Even if I defeated them, I couldn’t satisfy their desire for spectacle without it.

Weapons made of orichalcum or mythril were something most warriors would give an eye to see, and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

As I pondered this dilemma, Simon separated the horse from the carriage and took the reins again.

“Well… I’ll try to smooth things over as best I can.”

“I’m sorry and grateful, Simon. As always.”

“Heh heh… It’s the old folks’ job to support the young ones.”

With those words, Simon headed toward Martyr’s Square.

Grandpa is the best!

Always thrilling!