Ch.7525. Do You Think It’s Possible?

The blacksmith’s workshop was rather ordinary in size.

The interior was cramped, but it seemed to have everything necessary.

Located on the outskirts of the third layer, which doubled as the residential area of the village, this place had a distinctly different atmosphere from the first layer—the village entrance filled with shops, stalls, convenience facilities, and various trading posts.

“A customer?”

“Yes.”

Kariel handed over his sword, still in its scabbard, and asked.

“Can you fix it?”

“Hmm.”

The middle-aged man took the sword and pulled the strangely bent blade from its scabbard.

His skin was darkened by flames and covered with burn scars.

Despite his short hair and seemingly lean appearance, his muscular build revealed an unyielding determination that allowed no room for laziness.

“Do you want it reforged, or just the bend straightened out?”

“…Which would you recommend?”

“That’s up to you.”

Sometimes people insist on fixing things that can’t be fixed.

“If you want to use it properly, reforging would be best. If you’re just keeping it for sentimental value… straightening it wouldn’t be difficult. It might work for training, but not for actual combat—that’s the limit.”

“……”

He’s surprisingly attentive.

Despite his stubborn gaze, his explanation was quite detailed.

“Then I have no choice. If it can’t be used in actual combat, there’s no reason for me to carry it around.”

“I see.”

The middle-aged man nodded in understanding and set the sword aside.

“Come back in two days. Pay the cost in advance.”

While paying, Kariel briefly looked around the interior, but although there were plenty of tools visible, there didn’t seem to be any weapons ready for immediate use.

“Do you make things only after receiving orders or commissions?”

“That’s right.”

Near the entrance of the building next to the blacksmith’s, a boy caught his eye, carefully cutting leather into small pieces with metal scissors.

Though the yard was cramped, there was also a small building that served as a storage area, suggesting the business wasn’t doing poorly.

“The grip seems fine to use as is. But I notice the thickness is the same from top to bottom—is that alright? Usually grips are made thicker toward the top. Judging by the guard and pommel, this is a perfect Imperial sword. I heard they’re obsessed with the cross shape there, even making the grip thickness uniform throughout for balance?”

“Yes. You have a good eye.”

Not that I particularly care.

The way a sword handle is made—whether oval, flat, or right-angled—changes how it’s held and used.

The same goes for how leather is wrapped, or how wire is coiled around it.

One could force any style to work, but the structure does make a difference between thrusting and slashing.

“I understand you didn’t mention it not because you were unaware, but because you knew.”

If there had been something wrong with the handle area, he would have repaired, replaced, or reinforced it without charge.

Temporarily wrapping it with cloth or bandages, or tying it with string would be an option, but only as a temporary measure.

To the uninitiated, this might not seem like something to worry about, but when you delve into these details, there’s no end to it.

It’s not for nothing that some go to the trouble of skinning certain monsters or sea creatures and specially processing their hides to make specialized leather materials for sword grips and scabbards, keeping their methods secret as if they were precious traditions.

Even these minute differences affect the tool’s utility and the user’s skill development.

The fact that someone’s senses are refined enough to be affected by such extremely subtle details would certainly be significant.

Of course, if one is accustomed to using high-quality items from the beginning, they would naturally seek out more refined things after experiencing the jarring discomfort of using cheap alternatives.

“……”

In that respect, I’m not picky about such things.

I simply use whatever I’m given in the most appropriate way.

“I’ll leave it in your capable hands.”

With those words, he left the place.

He had told Luirin to buy plenty of food ingredients for herself, so by now there was probably an unusual commotion at the chapel with cooking being prepared for a big eater.

“……”

And.

Having stirred up trouble by rescuing a little kid, he had deliberately kept Luirin close despite Leo and Lusiri being there, as he still felt uneasy.

If you’re going to do something, do it properly—half-hearted goodwill leading to terrible revenge and retaliation is never reasonable.

…Those who claim to be predators, the strong ones, perpetrators rather than victims.

They never overlook when they’ve been wronged.

The idea that someone would simply accept and endure their actions.

They absolutely do not allow it.

That is the fundamental way of life and attitude of those who exercise violence and oppression.

Having lived that way their entire lives, the moment they abandon that life—

The moment they shed the guise of fear, what remains for them is either being bitten by the teeth of another predator or facing terrible revenge from those who have harbored grudges and waited for an opportunity.

In common terms, they reap what they sow.

“……”

And.

While pretending to look around, he checked if anyone was following him.

He also intended to gather some information about rumors, so he examined various places.

For now, he didn’t detect any eyes watching or following him.

As the sun began to set, he headed toward the chapel.

“Did you go to get a sword made instead of having it repaired?”

Luirin complained.

“……”

What was she dissatisfied about?

With more than six children and Luiness looking after them, plus Leo, Lusiri, Luirin, and himself joining, the kitchen-cum-dining area inside the chapel was bustling with activity.

The entire living and residential space was incorporated within the chapel building, which was somewhat surprising since even small churches usually separate these areas.

The meal was abundant but simple.

Hard bread and soup with various vegetables in broth.

Milk and jam made from preserved raspberries and grapes helped satisfy any cravings for flavor.

Kariel dipped his bread in the soup, waiting for it to soften.

As he joined the meal, conversations naturally reached his ears.

“Is there no one else in charge here?”

“There was a nun… but she left on a missionary journey.”

Leo’s question was answered briefly by Luiness… missionary journey?

It was a travel reason rarely heard within the Empire, which momentarily confused him.

“The followers and shepherds of Irenis are quite diligent in that regard.”

Leo agreed with Lusiri’s comment.

“Different Irenis believers visited our village every season as well.”

“Your village? That’s right, you mentioned you’re from another kingdom, Leo.”

At Luiness’s question, Leo hesitated briefly before responding with a weak smile.

“Yes. Though it’s called a kingdom, in many ways it’s not much different in size from the domain ruled by Lutengard Jarl here. I heard directly from our king that our country was only able to exist because of our proximity to Metran.”

“Is that… so?”

Lusiri provided a simple explanation.

“It’s called the Kingdom of Serf, where humans, beastkin, elves, and dwarves live together in a small nation. The terrain is rough with many mountains and highlands, so other countries left it alone, thinking there was nothing to gain by taking it. People gathered and cooperated until a nation was formed. After the kingdom was established, iron ore was discovered, bringing dwarves into the mix, and eventually the dwarves even became royalty by unanimous agreement of all constituents, under the pretext of protecting and financing the kingdom.”

“I’ve heard of it too,” Luirin chimed in, showing off her knowledge.

“……”

Kariel had only heard of it but didn’t really know the details.

“But ‘Your Majesty’? If you’ve met the Konungr of Serf, does that mean you’re of high status, Leo?”

“No, it’s just that our king is kind-hearted. And… we don’t call our king ‘Konungr’ like they do in Metran. Among ourselves, we just call him ‘Your Majesty.’ Foreigners call him ‘king,’ though.”

The ruler of the Ice Sand people, commonly known as the Vikingru, was called Konungr, which revealed their origins.

Some small nations or certain lords also claimed the title of Konungr, influenced by this… but usually they settled for being called Jarl.

However, while that was their lineage, most of their culture and ancient traditions had long since scattered and been absorbed into those of the continent.

“And I was summoned as a witness to report on a tragedy that occurred in our village.”

“Tragedy? What tragedy?”

Lusiri tried to signal her, but Luirin tilted her head and asked anyway.

“Children, eat properly without spilling.”

Luiness was busy taking care of the young ones.

“It’s alright, Lusiri. It’s not something I need to hide.”

Leo’s face looked somewhat troubled, but seeing Luirin looking uncomfortable as if she had touched on something inappropriate, he forced a smile.

“The village of Tedeo where I lived is now… everyone except me is asleep.”

“Huh? Asleep? Why?”

CLATTER!

A wooden bowl flipped over onto the floor, and a child burst into tears, not knowing what to do.

“It-it’s okay! Th-these things happen!”

Luiness began frantically trying to comfort the child.

“Oh my, what a waste.”

“Luirin…”

Lusiri, having clearly heard Luirin’s muttering about the wasted food, gave her a sharp look, making her shrink back immediately.

“……”

Kariel observed the scene intently as he finished emptying his bowl.

And so the conversation fizzled out.

====

Luirin’s incredible appetite was enough to surprise everyone.

It seemed that Luiness and Lusiri, unable to believe it at first, had tried to dissuade her, saying she was preparing too much food.

“You can really put it away.”

Her eating style was neat, which was fine, but everything has its limits.

It took quite some time to finish washing the dishes at the well.

As it had grown dark, the process of everyone setting out with lanterns became unexpectedly boisterous.

Luiness, with her leg condition, had to stay behind reluctantly, and they considered leaving Leo with her, but…

“…You can stay here, Master, since you have nothing to do.”

“??”

Why?

She said it was because he had contributed to the cost of food ingredients and should just rest.

As a result, he ended up sitting across from Luiness with only a single candle for light.

“Today… thank you.”

“……”

I did it because I could.

Since it was natural for her to express gratitude… Kariel nodded formally.

If accepting it straightforwardly could make the other person feel more comfortable, there was no need to refuse.

“It’s been a while since things were this lively around here… the children are very happy too.”

“Is that so?”

Kariel simply listened to what she had to say.

He didn’t have anything particular to say himself.

“……”

However, her face remained troubled, as if something was bothering her.

“Is something worrying you?”

“No… it’s just my personal matter…”

Then, looking at Kariel, she suddenly asked:

“You’re also interested in the Grandeus sword, aren’t you?”

“Interested in what way?”

“You want to draw it, don’t you?”

“……”

“I’ve seen many people. Those who come just to pray and seek blessings, and those who visit with the purpose of claiming that sword—their eyes and expressions are different.”

“……”

Kariel neither nodded nor responded.

This wasn’t the kind of question asked to get an answer.

“Do you think it’s possible?”

“…I don’t know.”

I don’t know.

I’m not in a position to approach anything with certainty.

I do it because I must.

…I pursue it because it’s necessary.

That’s all there is to it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… um, would you like some water?”

“I’m fine.”

Perhaps she felt awkward facing him directly.

She tried to rise, leaning on her cane.

“Oh!”

She must have misplaced her hand, as her upper body immediately tilted.

In that moment, Kariel reacted instantly.

If he lived carelessly, he might have missed even this, but his mind remained sharp even in moments of relaxation.

Every moment of opening and closing his eyes, every breath he took and released was reality and actual combat for him.

If the ceiling suddenly collapsed here and killed him, whose fault would it be?

A natural disaster?

Someone’s malicious surprise attack?

Or just bad luck that the deteriorated building happened to collapse?

No.

It would be my fault for not being prepared.

My fault for accepting such absurdity at face value.

“……”

The moment he caught her as she was about to fall.

He saw something.

Not just one or two things.

Countless images.

First.

A little girl sprawled on the floor, sobbing.

Then.

A girl sitting in the rain, crying in her disheveled state.

Her hair, once almost blonde, faded as if weathered by time, coming to resemble the sky.

As her blue eyes gradually turned white.

Her tearful expression also gradually dulled.

Perhaps this was another form of resignation.

Then one day, the girl reunited with her family.

However, she couldn’t call her father “father.”

Because he had ordered it so.

[Remember this. You must never reveal to anyone that you are my daughter. If that fact becomes known, I will cast you out from this place. No, I will do even worse than that. So remember well.]

The girl was assigned to serve a boy younger than herself.

Her half-brother.

At first, she hated and resented him.

What’s the difference between you and me?

Why did you have everything from the beginning?

The boy was indeed very harsh, arrogant, and disrespectful.

He would whine when bored, make unreasonable demands, and was incredibly stubborn.

…The only difference from other children was that

the boy had a limp in one leg.

There was no misfortune, accident, or tragic backstory.

It was a congenital disability.

If one had to force a narrative, it was simply that he wasn’t born healthy.

That itself might have been the greatest tragedy for the boy.