Ch.7777. Gazing (2)

6:30 AM. Ilroy wakes up.

It was later than his usual wake-up time. Marianne had risen at 5 o’clock, washed up, and sat on the bed waiting for signs of Ilroy stirring, but he only got up after another 30 minutes had passed. Marianne followed the rustling sounds of Ilroy moving around his room, turning her head and eyes to track the noise.

“…I’m a bit late.”

She could hear Ilroy muttering. His room was directly above Marianne’s. She blinked slowly, detecting each of his footsteps and movements. Though she hadn’t slept much, she washed away her fatigue by activating the magical power within her body.

“I should wash up.”

The rustling sounds moved toward the door. The sound of the door opening, closing gently, and then grumbling as he walked down the hallway. Marianne thought she should get up too and rose from her bed. The sunrise was noticeably later now. Just a month ago, the sun would have shown signs of rising by this time.

“…”

Marianne stared blankly out the window. The view outside the royal capital was different from what she knew. It was splendid but not clean. Noisy but not chaotic. It wasn’t like the neat scenery of the Holy Nation, nor like Barktins or Evernode. Marianne had little preference for scenery. It was just there, nothing more.

In the past, of course, she wouldn’t have even bothered to take in the view.

“It’s getting cold.”

With that final mutter, Ilroy disappeared into the bathroom. Marianne got up and slowly walked toward the kitchen. Her slippers made a soft sound against the wooden floor. She planned to prepare breakfast while Ilroy was washing up.

Sizzle.

The fire came to life. While the pan was heating up, Marianne looked for cooking oil. The headquarters’ kitchen had practically become Marianne’s domain. The cupboards, dishes, cooking utensils—Marianne took out ingredients with practiced hands and began cooking with familiar movements.

She felt at ease while using the kitchen. The noise of the heating pan, the sound of eggs cracking, even her own methodical movements. Marianne liked this kitchen. Though it was a bit disappointing that a five-story building had a kitchen only the size of an ordinary home. After finishing the meal preparation, Marianne brought plates to the table.

“…”

She then looked at the seat where Ilroy usually sat. Ilroy would often insist on cooking whenever he had the chance, which was troublesome. He lacked skill, one might say. He had plenty of enthusiasm, but that person had no talent. How could someone who wielded a sword so well be so bad at cooking?

“Oh, something smells delicious.”

Footsteps. Ilroy appeared coming down the stairs with a towel draped over his shoulders. Marianne nodded, poured water, and sat down. Ilroy sat across from Marianne, rubbing under his eyes. He looked somewhat tired—perhaps he had something on his mind.

“I prepared it as usual.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

Ilroy said this and picked up his utensils. When eating food Marianne made, he always wore a rather happy expression. Marianne would occasionally look up from her own breakfast to check Ilroy’s reaction. When she confirmed his expression, she felt a small satisfaction inside and lowered her head to focus on her breakfast.

“Do you have any plans today?”

At Ilroy’s question, Marianne shook her head. Ilroy muttered “Is that so?” and picked up a piece of bread. The crispy toasted bread crumbled in his mouth.

“I’m thinking of going to the blacksmith guild today to pick up my sword. Want to come along?”

Marianne blinked and then nodded. She hadn’t expected Ilroy to suggest this first.

“Then I’ll finish up today’s work quickly and we’ll head out. Just so you know.”

“Yes. I understand.”

Ilroy then looked at her and grinned. Marianne awkwardly avoided his gaze before getting up first to start clearing the dishes. Ilroy watched her quietly for a moment before clearing his own dishes and dropping them in the sink. Marianne glanced at Ilroy several times as he urged her to go ahead without him, then left.

8:00 AM. Ilroy begins work.

The administrative duties of the hero’s party were naturally handled by Ilroy, the hero. Though administrative work consisted of little more than writing simple reports and budget execution. Today, Ilroy was deeply contemplating a single sheet of paper, apparently having some work to do.

“Nobles are such a nuisance. Her Majesty the Queen should have strictly forbidden using the hero for political purposes by inviting me to social gatherings.”

Ilroy fluttered the envelope between his index and middle fingers with displeasure. A check slipped out from the loosened envelope and fluttered down.

“And they include things like this. If they’re going to do this, they might as well just send money. It’s not even under the pretense of a donation. Don’t they ever get tired of this?”

Ilroy frowned and placed the check on top of a pile of documents. Marianne thought this principled side of Ilroy was very characteristic of him. He would write a reply without leaving any room for negotiation and return just the check. Yet nobles who couldn’t give up on the merit of having the hero’s favor kept sending letters to Ilroy endlessly.

“…Don’t you think so?”

Marianne nodded at Ilroy’s question. Ilroy looked at Marianne with narrowed eyes before resuming his task of flipping through letters. After sorting all the letters, Ilroy picked up a pen and began scribbling something on paper. He seemed somewhat bothered by Marianne sitting in the office. But Marianne continued to watch him, undaunted by his gaze.

“…What day is it today?”

She heard Ilroy muttering.

1:30 PM.

Something was strange about Marianne. That’s what I thought. She had been glancing at me and following me around since last evening, but from this morning, she hadn’t taken her eyes off me at all. Honestly, I didn’t want to tell her to stop, so I left her alone, but I wondered what she was up to.

“[She must have something on her mind. With the way she follows you around, you should be careful she’s not peeping while you bathe.]”

The Holy Sword said something strange. There’s no need to make someone a criminal. I frowned deeply.

“[The quiet ones are often the most dangerous, Ilroy. There’s no way to know what she’s thinking inside.]”

I think Marianne is quite decent. If anyone’s thoughts are unknowable, wouldn’t it be someone like Bishop Andre who’s always smiling?

We arrived at the blacksmith guild and turned down a familiar alley to reach the shop. The blacksmith, Robin, came out to greet Marianne and me warmly. Robin grinned, took off his gloves, and ushered us inside.

“Oh, darling. It’s been a while. I see you got my letter?”

I nodded. Somehow, I felt Marianne’s gaze on me grow a bit sharper.

“Yes. You said the sword was almost complete and to come pick it up.”

Robin nodded cheerfully and pointed to a sword wrapped in cloth. Though the blade was covered with cloth, the exposed hilt already suggested an extraordinary piece had been completed. I swallowed dryly as I stared at the sword.

“[…A much better sword than expected has been completed.]”

Even the Holy Sword uttered such admiration, so I was starting to get excited about what kind of sword had been created. Perhaps noticing my gaze on the sword, Robin unwrapped the cloth-covered sword and showed it to me.

“It’s been so long since I made something like this that I might have gotten a bit carried away. It took a long time.”

“Is it completely finished?”

Robin shook his head and took the sword to the forge.

“I need to temper it a few more times, then soak it in etching solution before taking it out. I also need to sharpen the blade once more. It won’t take too long, so could you wait a bit?”

Robin dipped the sword into the forge, took it out, and then cooled it again.

“Still, I don’t think I’ll make a sword for anyone else again. Not until this sword becomes unusable in battle and the hero needs another one.”

Robin looked at the sword with a bitter smile. I nodded quietly. The blade glowed red-hot. Robin placed my sword in a long cylindrical container. It seemed to be the etching solution he mentioned. Robin took out the sword and wiped it with cloth.

“This makes me practically the hero’s exclusive blacksmith.”

At the blacksmith’s words, Marianne’s gaze grew even sharper. Robin seemed to have found something to tease about as he glanced between Marianne and me.

“You should consider it an honor. It’s a sign like no other in the world.”

“How can you put up such a sign when you won’t make equipment for others?”

Robin spoke nonchalantly as he placed the sword on the grinder. The blade that had emerged from the etching solution was glowing with a bluish tint. Robin looked at the blade with narrowed eyes before putting it on the spinning grinder. Sparks flew as the blade was sharpened.

“It’s an unnecessarily sturdy alloy, so it takes some effort to sharpen the blade. To be honest, I can’t even imagine a situation where this would break and the hero would ask me to make another sword.”

Robin grumbled as he took out the sword and checked its condition again.

“I’m not sure if I could make such a sword again. I’ve been thinking of a few names for it.”

A name for the sword. I blinked as I watched the sparking sword. The Holy Sword was just the Holy Sword. How would I know what names are given to swords?

“[It varies from person to person. There were knights who gave their swords names like people and treated them like lovers.]”

…Honestly, I couldn’t go that far. I twisted my lips. What kind of beings were knights, anyway?

“There, it’s done.”

Robin said plainly as he placed the sword on a cloth and returned to the table. Even Marianne, who had been staring at me, turned her attention to the sword, drawn by its brilliance. The blade was almost translucent. Apparently, when the metal called mythril is mixed in, the blade changes like this.

“This is your second sword, hero.”

Wave-like patterns were engraved on the blade. I ran my index finger along the blade. I felt a chilling sensation climbing up my finger. It was as if it was trying to pierce through me with a sharp gaze. The length and width of the blade were similar to the Holy Sword. It gave the impression of being deliberately crafted as a pair with the Holy Sword. The leather wrapped around the hilt was brown, different from that of the Holy Sword.

“[This one is already choosing its master. Even the sword used by the Northern Grand Duke allowed you to wield it. I wonder if it knows it was made for you.]”

The Holy Sword spoke with interest. Without hesitation, I gripped the sword with my left hand. A chill momentarily penetrated my hand and climbed up, but suddenly seemed to freeze in my arm.

“[I’ll teach this insolent girl some manners, Ilroy.]”

The Holy Sword’s cold voice came through. The chill climbing up my arm disappeared. I felt as if the sword in my left hand had twitched slightly, but it must have been my imagination.

“What should we name it?”

I asked Marianne. She opened her eyes wide as if she hadn’t expected to be asked that question, then looked at the sword in my left hand.

“…Would it be alright if I named it?”

“I can’t think of a good name.”

Marianne rubbed her chin thoughtfully and carefully examined the wave pattern on the blade.

“How about ‘Neoul’?”

“Neoul. That’s a cute name.”

I said this while caressing the hilt. Marianne momentarily looked as if she thought she had chosen a bad name, but I shook my head.

“Neoul sounds good.”

“It’s a good name. Simple names are best for swords.”

Robin interjected. I smiled slightly and raised the sword. Neoul. Honestly, I liked the name.

“By the way, naming his sword…”

Robin looked at Marianne with a smile. Marianne looked back at Robin as if she didn’t understand, and I sighed as I watched the subtle dynamic between the two.

4:00 PM. Ilroy returns home.

Ilroy asked Marianne for a sparring match, saying he wanted to get familiar with his new sword. Marianne immediately accepted this unexpected proposal. Although she had taught Ilroy some martial techniques before, they had never directly fought with sword against spear. Marianne sat quietly in the empty office, lost in thought.

“Then, I’ll go down to the basement first.”

There was a training room in the basement of the headquarters. Ilroy went down to the basement with an excited expression, holding his newly acquired sword. Marianne sat leaning against her holy spear, quietly staring at the desk. What had Ilroy been scribbling and frowning about? She couldn’t rummage through his desk carelessly.

Just then, Marianne noticed a piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. She couldn’t resist the curiosity to pick it up and look at it. Perhaps this paper was the reason why Ilroy had been spacing out.

Just putting it back, that’s all.

Marianne justified her curiosity this way as she carefully approached where the paper lay. She picked it up and checked its contents, only to freeze in place.