"Antonio!"
Isaac burst through the ever-open door of the smithy.
Antonio, who was vigorously hammering away, suddenly stood up and shouted back.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me like that when I've got a hammer in my hand!"
"Ah! Then I guess I'm doomed! Because the sword you made for me broke, and I can't use it to block your hammer!"
As Isaac raised the shattered sword and shook it around, Antonio's fierce demeanor softened for a moment.
But getting the old blacksmith to admit his fault was never easy.
"You little brat!"
"What excuse is it this time? That I swung it wrong? Faced the wrong opponent? That it's all part of a learning process? Why don't you just say that from the beginning instead of always claiming your swords never break and putting me in danger!"
"Ahem, it's a matter of pride as a blacksmith."
Antonio grabbed the hilt of the broken sword and patted his belly as he retorted.
"Ah, I see! You took this one? That's just a worthless prototype I made for practice! There's a proper sword over there."
"Oh, a fresh excuse this time?"
"Ahem."
Isaac was dumbfounded. The fact that Antonio called it a prototype, despite handing it over himself, was absurd.
As if expecting it to break, Antonio had already prepared a new one, though his sheepish smile revealed his embarrassment.
"This time, it definitely won't break."
"Why don't you hold onto it and test it yourself?"
Isaac unsheathed the sword, suggesting they test it against Pearlsun right now. Antonio, flustered, quickly grabbed it back.
"Hey! If you clash it with that monster, no sword could survive!"
"Exactly. That's why I'll handle it carefully. I'm afraid it'll break again."
"Ahem."
Isaac's sarcastic tone left Antonio frowning. Eventually, the blacksmith slung an arm around Isaac's shoulder and guided him out of the smithy.
"Do you smoke?"
"…Not anymore."
Back when Isaac had been struggling to write, as if wielding a dull sword, he had picked up the habit out of frustration.
But it hadn't lasted long. He'd avoided it since, knowing it could hinder his stamina when wielding a sword in the future.
It had been a pointless worry in hindsight.
"You quit, huh? Impressive."
Antonio lit a cigarette by pressing its tip to the heated head of his hammer. Smoke curled into the air as he took a puff.
"Kid, this is harder than it looks."
For the first time, Antonio sounded uncertain.
"Keeping it light while maintaining minimum durability… I've never made a sword like that before."
"I didn't expect you to get it right on the first try. But could you stop acting so cocky about it?"
"Think about how I'd look in front of my apprentices if I handed you a sword that broke so quickly."
"…"
Silence hung between them. It wasn't a situation either of them failed to understand.
"It's my first time making this kind of sword, so the craftsmanship won't be perfect. To make up for that, I'll need something special."
"And what might that be?"
Antonio stubbed out his cigarette on the ground with a firm press of his foot. He called out to an apprentice to bring his thick coat.
"In the north, there's an ore called Frostsilver. It's a rare material used to craft the spears of House Caldias."
"…"
"It's never exported. Aside from the Margrave presenting it to the royal family, most of it stays locked in the Caldias vault."
Isaac recalled Silverna mentioning her spear during a battle, calling it an irreplaceable treasure.
"If I use that, I can maintain both durability and lightness. It'll take some time, though."
"I can tell it's valuable from the way you describe it. Do you think the Margrave will give it to us?"
From what Isaac had heard, even Caldias didn't seem to have much of it.
"Of course not. But we'll have to find a way to get it, won't we?"
Isaac almost asked why Antonio was going to such lengths for his sword. He decided it was unnecessary, but Antonio seemed to read his mind and answered anyway.
"I've seen you train."
"…"
"You act as if the sword you're holding is already complete."
"Ahem."
"Your opponent is Helmut, right?"
Isaac's eyes widened in surprise. Slowly turning his head to look at Antonio, he saw the older man grinning mischievously, like a child caught in the act of teasing.
"Isn't it fun? The sword of Helmut, hailed as great from birth. They were literally born to wield swords."
"True." Isaac admitted.
"The complete opposite of you. Their mighty greatswords versus your shabby blade. Their superior physiques versus a mere commoner."
Isaac couldn't deny it. Reality had always been merciless to him.
"And yet, seeing you genuinely striving to defeat them—"
Antonio's hand landed heavily on Isaac's back, as though encouraging him to keep going. Feeling the silent support in that gesture, Isaac nodded faintly.
***
Isaac had recently been immersed in sparring with Sharen.
Clang!
Sharen's greatsword ferociously pushed back Isaac's Pearlsun, forcing him to realize the overwhelming gap in their strength. The most troubling part? Sharen was considered weak among Helmut's direct descendants.
Aside from the youngest, Edel, Sharen could easily be called the weakest.
"Crimson Descent!"
A mix of red and pink aura erupted from Sharen's greatsword. Isaac's eyes widened as he attempted to block with his Pearlsun but was ultimately thrown backward, landing heavily on the ground.
"Ugh!"
Though he managed to break his fall and avoid serious injury, Isaac frowned. Not because of the pain but because of the insurmountable wall of reality he faced, no matter what he tried.
"Isaac, are you okay?"
Sharen ran over, alarmed, and helped him to his feet with a worried expression.
"See? I told you not to use your aura techniques! How am I supposed to train if you do that? I'm not some nobody like Jonathan!"
"Yeah, you're different."
She was right—he was different.
Against Jonathan, Isaac had managed to win by understanding Helmut's swordsmanship and thinking one step ahead.
But going up against a direct descendant wielding a sword was on a whole different level.
"Seriously, I'm just worried about you! I even announce the name of my moves to give you time to react!"
Sharen shrugged her shoulders proudly. Admittedly, the advance warnings did help Isaac respond better.
But still…
'It feels more like you're just enjoying shouting out your move names.'
Isaac thought, suspecting that Sharen had developed a fondness for announcing her attacks.
"Even so, I need to keep going."
Isaac said, brushing the dirt off his pants as he prepared to resume their training.
"…You didn't spar like this with the other brothers, did you?"
"It wasn't sparring with them."
"Ahem."
Sharen coughed awkwardly and returned to her spot.
Isaac assumed they were about to resume, but—
"Ah! Wait a second! I just remembered I have to go somewhere!"
"Huh?"
With that, Sharen dashed off somewhere in a hurry.
***
"Big Sis!"
Behind their lodging,
Sharen, who had come looking for her, was scolded by Liana for being too loud.
Liana handed over a towel and a water bottle.
The towel was warm, and judging by the faint aroma coming from the water bottle, it seemed to be brewed tea.
"Wow, thanks! But I haven't been training hard enough to sweat. It's so cold here that I hardly sweat at all."
Sharen accepted the items with a smile, grateful but—
Liana frowned and corrected the misunderstanding.
"It's for Isaac. Not for you."
"…"
Sharen, who had been about to drink the tea after opening the lid, quietly screwed it shut again.
"But I'm your little sister."
"More importantly, I watched the sparring just now."
"Oh! How was it? My Crimson Descent was pretty impressive—!"
"I honestly don't understand Isaac's intentions. The way he uses the Pearlsun makes it seem like—"
For about ten minutes after that, Liana poured out her thoughts on the sparring match she had just witnessed.
It was all advice regarding Isaac's sword, and as Sharen listened, her expression gradually became annoyed.
"Just summarize it and tell him. Got it?"
"Can't you just go and tell him yourself?"
"I can't, so I'm telling you to do it."
"…"
Something felt off. Sharen thought so and decided to change the subject a little.
"By the way, sis, don't you think Isaac has a strange kind of charm?"
"…What kind of charm?"
Curious about the topic, Liana leaned in. Sharen smiled brightly and began explaining what she felt.
"It's like he has this pitiful yet desperate vibe? He can't ever beat the Crimson Descent, right? But the way he keeps trying to overcome it—it kind of makes your heart race!"
"…"
"It's like… you want to take care of him? Seeing him try so hard to overcome something feels kind of… attractive, doesn't it?"
"…"
"Is that why you also—"
Thump!
***
"What's that bump on your head?"
"Sniff. I don't knooow!"
Isaac pointed to the bump on Sharen's head, but she just grumbled in frustration.
After saying she had somewhere to go, she returned with a swollen bump on her head.
"Let's start again."
Whatever happened, Isaac had been pondering how to counter the Crimson Descent while she was away. He was looking forward to testing his theory.
"Isaac, you're pretending not to care, but you're obsessed with Helmut's greatsword!"
"What?"
A sudden accusation from Sharen.
"You wield Pearlsun, but you're hung up on the Helmut greatsword. You don't even have the strength to swing it properly, so why bother?"
"…"
"The Helmut greatsword relies on overwhelming strength. Without power, it's meaningless."
"…"
"Trying to imitate Helmut is just making your swordsmanship sloppy."
"…"
"Forget Helmut. Just swing your own sword. You already have enough talent for that!"
Sharen spoke as if she were reading from a book. Isaac tilted his head and asked.
"What part of me made you feel that way?"
"…Huh?"
"You said I'm trying to imitate Helmut's swordsmanship. What did you see to come to that conclusion?"
Isaac hadn't expected such insight from Sharen, so he decided to be honest.
"You're right. I hate Helmut, but that doesn't mean I hate their swordsmanship."
In truth, his admiration for their swordsmanship was why he was so fixated on it. He wanted to make it his own and prove something to them.
"I admire certain aspects of it, and I'm working hard to make it my own… But I'm curious about what gave me away."
He thought he'd hidden it well. How did she notice?
Isaac stared at Sharen, waiting for her answer. Her eyes wavered, and she struggled to keep her head from turning away. Then, she shouted.
"You, y-you can tell when you wield the sword! It's something you feel with your heart, not your head!"
With that, she handed over the towel and water bottle she had brought.
"Take care not to catch a cold!"
"Not to catch a cold?"
"I mean, take care!"
"…"
With that, Sharen turned her back and fled.
Isaac sighed as he gazed at the direction she had just returned from.
"Just as I suspected."
When Sharen first arrived at the Malidan Wall,
The maid, who had tightly wrapped her face in a scarf left a deep impression on Isaac's mind,
Lingering there even after he dismissed it as nothing more than a fleeting thought.