Chapter 51: Wolf Fang (2)
by fnovelpia
Ugliness and beauty.
The katana that harmonized these two contrasting concepts was truly a masterpiece, deserving of the title in every way.
From the moment it was drawn from its sheath, the red blade emitted a sinister aura, gleaming as if thirsting for blood – utterly repulsive.
Yet the pattern on the blade, reminiscent of fiercely burning flames, boasted a beauty more fitting for a work of art than a mere sword.
“A masterpiece.”
The thought I’d only meant to keep to myself slipped out, and Hadi nodded in agreement beside me.
I don’t use words like “masterpiece” or “magnum opus” lightly.
I know that the more casually such terms are thrown around, the less value they hold.
But in this moment, I couldn’t help but voice it aloud.
How could I not praise what might be the most beautiful katana I’ve ever forged – perhaps even the most beautiful in all the world?
“Master… it’s truly a magnificent katana…! If only we could announce that we made this…”
Hadi’s shoulders slumped as she spoke. I understood her feelings all too well, to the point of heartbreak.
To be unable to claim credit for such a proud creation.
It must be like a parent unable to claim their beloved child as their own, or perhaps even worse.
“Perhaps… the day will soon come when we can announce that we made this katana.”
“Pardon?”
I’d heard that every year, magic swordsmen who worship Pierre gather in that village for a memorial.
Since we’d caused a ruckus destroying the statue in the village, news would surely reach the Pierre family when that estimated anniversary date arrived.
“When that happens, that bastard will undoubtedly reveal the truth, and nine times out of ten, a duel or war will break out.”
At this point, with Lobo defeated, it was obvious who would emerge victorious from such a conflict.
No doubt a hellish scene would unfold, with corpses piled to the heavens and spilled blood forming rivers.
And in that process, this katana would likely cut down more people than any other blade.
“Then, like it or not, the world will know far and wide that we made this katana.”
“That’s truly joyous… or should I not say that? Since people will die.”
“It’s fine to be pleased. Weapons are made to kill people… or if not people, then something. As creators, we can be satisfied if it fulfills its purpose. However…”
It feels wrong to say this after claiming I don’t care who dies, but if that guy were to wield this katana, what would happen…
“Truth is, ever since I first grasped this katana, I’ve had an overwhelming urge to test its legendary sharpness.”
Of course, I didn’t mean testing it on iron or straw dummies. I meant testing it on humans – something I’d never normally consider.
Hearing this, Hadi took a step back from me and said with an awkward smile:
“What? Are you joking?”
“…Unfortunately, no. You haven’t held this katana since its completion, have you? Want to try holding it?”
I turned the katana, pointing the hilt towards Hadi, but she waved her hands in refusal.
“I-I’ll pass. But if what you’re saying is true, isn’t this more than just a katana? Isn’t it a demon sword or cursed blade?”
“Without a doubt.”
Not all blades made with demonic materials become such, but this nameless katana certainly qualified as a demon sword or cursed blade.
The sinister demonic energy constantly seeping from the blade, as if from a living magic beast.
The abnormal characteristic of making one want to cut people when wielding it.
There was no room for doubt.
This was a devil’s blade. A cursed sword that humans should not wield.
“…But what would happen if that person were to grasp this katana?”
In this context, there was only one person Hadi could be referring to as “that person.”
I tried to imagine him grasping this sword, but for some reason, no clear image came to mind.
It seemed equally plausible that he might be enthralled by the katana’s demonic energy and go mad with bloodlust, or that he might skillfully control its power and wield it masterfully.
“…I can’t even imagine it.”
If he were simply a weak-willed madman, I would have immediately assumed the former.
But he’s not just some lunatic. He’s a talented swordsman who, at his young age, defeated Lobo with self-taught swordsmanship.
Perhaps someone like him could wield this katana skillfully without falling under its spell.
“A terrible future may await us… but we can’t know anything for certain until it happens.”
Still, it never hurts to be prepared for the worst.
“Just in case, quickly find out if there are any death row inmates at the academy or nearby territories. If the worst happens, he might calm down after cutting down a few people.”
“…Alright, I’ll try to find some, even if we have to make them ourselves.”
“…Right.”
For some reason, those words that would normally sound like a joke didn’t seem like one at all today.
“……!!”
In the midst of excruciating pain too intense for even a scream, I stubbornly maintained a single stance.
It was the Baldo stance – right foot forward, both hands positioned for an instant draw, one on the sheath and one on the hilt.
This stance, now ingrained to the point where I’d unconsciously adopt it even upon waking, held firm even through this terrible agony.
Enduring the pain that resonated through my body with each minute movement of my fingers, I drew the sword.
‘Baldo strike!!’
Though my voice wouldn’t come out, I unleashed the strike with aura. It was slow enough that even Jessica could have dodged it, but it was undeniably a Baldo strike.
The pain inflicted by the Pascoatamin was beyond imagination, living up to its reputation of making even the mute speak in the story.
However, after days of enduring this torment, I finally succeeded in performing Baldo while under the effects of the poison, albeit at a low level.
As if to praise my iron will, a window appeared before me, heralding the birth of a new skill.
[Skill “Iron Will” has been added.]
[Iron Will] [Rank: A]
[An iron will that remains unshaken by any circumstance. Automatically activates to stabilize your mind when greatly disturbed.]
Though I hadn’t specifically aimed for this through my training, a rather useful skill had been born.
Iron Will – a fitting name. One truly befitting a swordsman who wields Baldo.
“Ian? What’s wrong?”
Unable to see the skill window, did I appear to be staring blankly into space from Hori’s perspective?
Hori, who had been observing from the side, looked at me with a worried expression.
“Just had something on my mind. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay… If there’s any problem with the potion, please tell me anytime.”
“Oh, there are plenty of problems. Starting with the fact that its creator is out of their mind…”
After drinking the potion several times over the past few days, my conviction that Hori’s insane ideas couldn’t be changed only grew stronger.
“Anyway, let’s call it a day. I managed to successfully perform Baldo while poisoned for the first time.”
“I never imagined you’d be able to move this quickly.”
On the first day after returning, I could barely manage to rise no matter how hard I tried. But now I’d progressed to the point of performing Baldo.
“By the way, Ian, has the pain lessened at all?”
“The pain lessened? No, I haven’t noticed anything like that… Why?”
“If you’ve developed a tolerance to the Pascoatamin, I was thinking of increasing the concentratioOWW!!”
Before Hori could finish speaking, I swiftly struck her head with a Baldo strike.
“Ugh…! I hate that, it hurts…! Just punch me instead.”
“I do it this way because it’s supposed to hurt.”
After parting ways with the teary-eyed Hori, I headed straight back to the dormitory without stopping anywhere else.
Upon arriving at the dorm, there was a letter attached to my door, just like when Otar had sent one before.
‘Finally…!!’
If it wasn’t a letter from my mother, there was only one person who would send me a letter.
Sure enough, when I removed and read the letter on the door, it stated that the sword was complete and I should come retrieve it as soon as possible.
After roughly crumpling the letter and shoving it in my pocket, I left the dormitory immediately without even entering my room.
Though the sun had already set, I was able to reach the smithy without much difficulty thanks to the scattered streetlamps and the light from taverns that had yet to close.
“…You’re here.”
When I arrived at the smithy, strangely enough, Otar and Hadi were waiting for me outside rather than inside.
The fact that they were both empty-handed suggested they weren’t waiting to show me the new katana right away.
Confused, I hurried over, only to find them staring at me blankly with tense expressions.
“Is there something on my face?”
“…No. It’s just a personal concern, pay it no mind.”
Otar’s expression looked extremely troubled, but I wasn’t particularly curious about what was bothering him, so I didn’t pry further.
“I see. So where is my katana?”
“It’s inside the smithy. I hate to say it myself, but it’s our magnum opus. However, there’s a bit of an issue…”
“An issue?”
“Yes, during the forging process, it… became a demon sword. The kind of bloodthirsty demon sword that makes you want to cut down the living when you hold it.”
“A demon sword?!!!”
Even in the original story, demon swords were incredibly rare and powerful, appearing only a handful of times.
A demon sword is something that can’t be created intentionally even if you try. At the thought of one falling into my hands, I couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, why are you grinning like that? It’s creepy…”
“How could I not smile?! A sword as suited for Baldo as a holy sword is about to come into my possession!!”
Hearing this, Otar ran a hand down his face and said:
“…Right, you’re that kind of guy. As its creator, I’m actually glad it’s going to someone like you, since the demon sword was born anyway.”
“Yes, then I’ll go get it right away!!”
As I turned to head into the smithy, Otar grabbed my shoulder.
“Wait! Didn’t I tell you that holding it makes you want to cut people? Have you already forgotten?!”
“Ah… Of course I remember.”
That’s a lie. In my joy at obtaining a demon sword, I had momentarily forgotten.
“…Anyway, that’s why we’ve prepared a contingency. Inside, you’ll find 10 men, blindfolded and restrained.”
“Let me guess – they’re death row inmates or something, and you’re going to tell me to cut them if I get the urge?”
“That’s right. They’re scum who deserve to die anyway. If you feel the urge to cut, slice them instead.”
It seems Otar is worried that I might be enthralled by the demon sword, but his concern is unnecessary.
No matter how powerful the demon sword, a swordsman controlled by their blade could never use Baldo.
“You’re worrying over nothing. I won’t kill a single one, so just watch from there!!”
Besides, wanting to cut people when you get a new katana isn’t a curse – it’s perfectly natural.
There was absolutely no need to fear such a natural inclination.
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