An hour ago…
It had been 40 minutes since Roy stepped out of the protective barrier of the manor.
He was still, surprisingly, in the same place as the Manor.
His first destination today wasn't the Snowy Mountain Range but the Weapon Smithy.
It was run by an old man in his sixties.
Although older than the count, this man was extremely muscle-packed, burly, and active.
He was also ridiculously healthy, proven by the fact that drinking every day failed to damage his kidneys.
Days ago, Roy had given this man the claws, bones, and teeth of the Snow Wolf Leader, ordering him to prepare a weapon.
He was at the smithy to get it.
Sadly, the man was dead drunk to the point he smelled like a skunk.
"Old man, wake up!"
Old Man: Snoring!
"You're acting like you're sleeping because you failed to complete my order in time and now don't want to deal with me today, right?
Old Man: Snoring a little louder!
"Old man, wake up, or I'll rock you really, really hard, and honestly, you won't like it."
Old Man: Snowing louder than the previous two times combined!
No matter how many times he called out, he didn't respond and continued snoring, getting on Roy's nerves so much that he was about to explode at him, show him the face of the devil.
"My threats aren't working on him. He's really in a deep sleep. Should I just shave his head, eyebrows, and pirate-like mustache and be on my way?
The old man's apprentice came in time, thankfully, saving the old man from the fate of losing all hair on his face and giving Roy a finely crafted sword.
It was in a black sheath that wasn't flashy in any way but gave off an eerie, almost murderous vibe.
Roy gave it a good look.
After his Perception Stat increased, he was able to see the backstory of items, not people.
『You've used Perception on the sword's sheath.』
『You gained the backstory of the weapon.』
By using his skill, Roy found out about the history of the sheath and felt awed by it.
『It once used to act as a cover for a sword that had killed countless men and monsters alike. It had exchanged hands many times until it landed in Tipart's hands. Its value was no less than an heirloom. Roy didn't know why they were willing to give this to him. Maybe they didn't know what it was worth. Anyway, he accepted it with a smile.』
"Do inspect it. Master spent the last three days working hard on it, tempering it to the level of perfection. This was the third time I saw him put his heart and soul into making a weapon. You don't know how lucky you are."
The Apprentice, Yellowy, acted as if he wasn't talking to the rich third son of the count, who could commission the finest blacksmith to create the best for him, but a mere commoner.
Surprisingly, Roy nodded at him, signifying Yellowy wasn't wrong.
"I will." Roy grabbed the hilt and pulled the sword out of the black sheath.
It came out with a sword cry, ready to tear the world apart.
His eyes dilated.
Too sharp… this sword was too sharp.
It was equally magnificent, a better looker than most Femme Fatales.
Its surface was like a replica of ice, and it was huge, reaching his shoulders but slim like a dry branch.
『This sword, one of the seventh wolf-slaying weapons, was crafted by Tipart, the Drunk Sword Smith, using the bones, claws, and fangs of the Winter Marauder, the snow-white wolf who reigned supreme in the Snowy Mountains and loved hunting herb pickers and solo adventures, and died at the hand of Roy, the Young Lord of cruelty.』
『Tipart, The drunk Sword Smith, carries the blood of the ancient Dwarves. He had created this sword using all his skills, imbuing it with runic charms. Once per day, its owner may demand it to rain down a wave of moonlight on your enemies.』
『This sword lacks a name.』
『May the warrior do the good deed and give it a name!』
Roy looked at the sword in his hand, impressed. "A good sword... I will call it Reflection."
The apprentice exposed a smile: "A good name."
Roy turned to leave
Yellowy turned to Tipart, only to see him staring at the back of Roy. Roy left the smithy, and only then did he question his master desperately: "Master, why did you go to such length for him? Forget about the sword. Why give him the black Sheath? Wasn't the rule to hand it over to the man worthy?"
"He's…."
Yellowy was eager to hear his answer.
But Tipart fell asleep after uttering a word…
"He's what?!"
Yellowy's shout woke him up, and he continued his sentence.
"Worthy."
Yellowy blinked his eyes, confused. He hadn't seen anything special in Roy. He was just a boy too fat for his age. There was nothing good about him.
"I don't understand. Except for being the count's son ad having a little more money than us, what's so good about him that you made me give him the Black Sheath?"
The old man's eyes narrowed to the size of a thin crack. "He's… more… than you think."
"What did I miss?"
"You're older than him… but he's stronger than you."
"Who are you kidding? I'm at the very peak of the tenth level of body tempering, waiting for the Adult Hood Ceremony to awaken. How can he be my match when it's rumored that even the news about him ascending to the fifth stage might be faked."
"The rumors about him are wrong, very wrong. He is not… at the fifth stage. He's… he's at the unprecedented stage."
Hearing his words, Yellowy thought Roy had awakened. But he hadn't undergone the Adult Hold Ceremony. So how could he awaken? Was he favored by a Royal?
"Are you ki-"
"It is not as you… think. He hasn't awakened… but he's more than you."
"…are you actually kiddi-?"
"Words about this mustn't get out."
Yellowy gave Tipart a respectful bow. "Silence be our guardian."
Silence. Absolute silence.
….
Some minutes after leaving the Smithy, Roy felt eyes on his back. He could tell that there were people spying on him. They were good, very good at their job. Their footsteps were as light as feather, making no sounds. Their breathing was hushed, inaudible. They were master spies and had escaped the might of Roy's five senses, but he caught them because of his sixth sense.
『You've discerned six people spying on you with the help of your sixth sense.』
『What would you like to do with them?
'Nothing.'
He turned around, looking at the places they were hiding with deep interest.
"Had he detected us?"
"No way in hell that's possible!"
"We can even go under the nose of a Weapon Master. This boy is a young calf. How can he detect us?"
"Yeah, it's impossible for the trash of the count family to detect us, the four master spies."
The spies communicated with each other using a special method that allowed their words to reach a limited number of people.
Thus, it was impossible for Roy to hear what they were saying.
Still, he was able to feel fluctuations in the Mana present in his surroundings.
From that, he confirmed that the technique they were using to communicate with each other used Mana, wasn't omnipotent, and had massive fault.
For example, anyone with the sixth sense would be able to determine their location the moment they communicated with each other using this technique, just like Roy.
"It's time I slip off their radar."
Roy started running around.
They chased after him stubbornly.
He was in the open, and they were in the dark.
At least, that was what the spies thought.
They didn't know that because of the fault in their technique, he was able to successfully determine their position.
Roy didn't engage them in a fight. He didn't want them to know that he was already aware of their existence.
After he walked into an alley, they didn't see him.
He dusted them by fooling them into the alley and going around them.
By tracing his footsteps, they deduced he had left the County.
They couldn't find where he had gone, though.
He was too out of their sight, and they weren't extreme genius who could calculate their move.
Thus, they relayed their failure to keep an eye on Roy and their finding as to where he wasn't to their master, the Yama's Contractor.