CHAPTER 125

Late at night, the sound of drums resounds with a heavy sound.

In sync with that sound, the white hem of a girl's robe twirls gracefully, spreading wide.

The light emanating from the girl's robe encompasses more vividly than the torches scattered around.

"Summon it forth."

As Elder Geronimo instructed, Vlad closed his eyes silently.

The sound of the girl dancing around him grew nearer.

"Summon forth what you desire."

Elders chanting spells.

Warriors stand ready with their weapons.

And from the young World Tree, droplets of light descend.

Vlad, feeling the spirits intertwining with his shoulders, delves deep into his inner self.

What do I want and what am I seeking to attain?

The answer lies solely within oneself.

As Vlad meditated, the blue metal wrapped in fluttering silk gradually rose into the air and began to shine.

Slowly, Vlad raises his eyelids with the radiance and glimmer.

"..."

Then, a single scene comes into view.

An unadorned sword was visible floating brightly above the nostalgic image of the blacksmith shop.

A sound is heard.

The sound of the old blacksmith striking the sword.

※※※※

"So, do you have to stay here a little longer?"

"They said it would take a week. I don't understand what they mean by making the sword through a ritual."

Auguste, who had packed his clothes, shrugged his shoulders while listening to Vlad's words.

"I don't understand it either, but I have to take what I get."

Auguste, who now needed to leave to conclude the mission, and Vlad, who had something to receive and thus needed to stay.

Having entered this place with different purposes, they perhaps hadn't realized it was natural for them to leave at different times.

"By the way, I'm curious. Who is your teacher?"

Although he may not know where he came from, the young knight is eager to find the roots of the sword he carries.

Auguste, who fully understood Vlad's feelings, decided to give him appropriate advice before leaving.

"I don't know about the imperial swordsmanship, you may find the list of Dragon Slayers if you go to the capital, Brigantes. The Dragulia family thoroughly records anything related to dragons."

Those who swore to kill dragons.

The Dragulia family, sensitive to everything related to dragons, had recorded the names of all Dragon Slayers to date.

Perhaps Vlad's name would also be recorded at the very bottom.

"It's highly likely your teacher is on that list."

A man who killed a dragon while using imperial swordsmanship.

Up to this point, only one person had been officially listed on both of those lists.

A knight who faced the sharpest dragon with the noblest sword.

Founding King Frausen.

Ting-

"······?"

Auguste broke the momentary silence between them by flicking a coin between his fingers.

An old and rusty, insignificant coin.

"My name is Auguste."

A coin that only the lowest can hand over.

Vlad accepted the Ducat that Larmund once gave him, and looked at Auguste with silent contemplation.

"If anyone sees your swordsmanship later and says something, feel free to mention my name."

A young knight using Imperial Swordsmanship.

Although he was still somewhat immature, Auguste painted even his own colors onto Vlad, who was blossoming his personality.

He doesn't know who he is, but if he is able to recognize Vlad's origins, he will be able to detect his weaknesses through his own skills.

"But still, try not to get into trouble if possible."

Although it wasn't a name that carried great prestige, if it came down to it, the name of the former captain of the Imperial Security Guard would prevent the worst from happening.

"Thank you, Lord Auguste."

"It feels strange to hear my name from you."

Auguste smiled faintly as he watched Vlad, who was paying him respects.

It was a brief but impactful encounter.

His life had been one of unquestioning loyalty to the empire, but leaving behind just a faint trace seemed to leave him feeling oddly satisfied.

"When you come to Brigantes later, look me up."

With those words, Auguste turned his head without hesitation.

The old knight departed towards the rising morning sun.

When he came in, he came with heavy doubts, but when he left, his shoulders seemed lighter and cheerful.

"······."

Vlad quietly looked at the old coin resting in his palm as he watched Auguste's retreating figure.

Now there are two ducats.

Holding a coin that was heavier than it looked, Vlad tucked the value of honor into his bosom.

※※※※

"Has Grandpa gone?"

"Yes."

Now it was the guest room where only Vlad and Gott stayed.

However, Gott, who should have been here, was always driven away somewhere, and the only person Vlad faced was an unknown girl.

"That's a relief."

"Why?"

"...I don't want to say."

The girl's occasional words are incoherent.

There was no subject or object, and it was unclear who or what she was referring to.

But as she only spoke of what she saw, she, too, would not know the details.

"But is there really a white snake in Deomar?"

"...It's huge."

Reading the girl's attempt to change the subject, Vlad grabbed the puppy's neck on his shoulder and answered.

"It's enough to swallow all the little spirits here in one bite."

The puppy, as if begging to play, wagged its tail vigorously and its eyes gleamed with excitement. Its tail seemed to be made of flames.

"I'd like to see it. If I must specify, they might be considered uncles among the spirits."

"Do spirits have family trees?"

"I'm not sure about that, but I just want to call them uncles."

A white snake who must have been born from the mother world tree.

The priestess of the young world tree seemed to take a keen interest in traces she had never seen before.

It was understandable.

Currently, she was in a position where she had to prepare the ritual by meditating on forgotten traces.

"I just need a sturdy longsword. There seemed to be a forge here."

"I don't like it. I'll do it for you."

The priestess, who had been looking down at an ancient manuscript for a long time, looked at Vlad with sullen eyes and said,

"Why are you saying that when I'm offering to do it? Everyone else wants to do it."

As the girl's words trailed off, the young spirits began to open their mouths one by one, crying out in an indistinguishable chorus. They were probably whimpering and chirping.

Although he couldn't hear it, Vlad closed his eyes as the atmosphere suddenly became chaotic.

"Anyway, you have to try it at least once. If I fail, everything will be forgotten," the girl said.

"...Understood," Vlad replied.

If it didn't continue, it would be forgotten.

The countless rituals that seniors should pass down to juniors, and predecessors to successors, now existed only in a few old books. Those who kindly taught them to the girl were severed by the passage of time.

"Wait. We'll make something pretty for you."

Vlad wasn't the only one who had to find his own path. There was also a girl here who had to find her own way and build something.

"Take your time."

Sometimes there were burdens that couldn't be shared.

Vlad, who couldn't dare to reach out to the girl who had to bear such a burden alone, simply decided to stay quietly by her side.

"I'll be waiting," he said.

With those words, Vlad held up an oiled cloth and cleaned Jorge's dagger.

Looking at Vlad like that, the girl lifted up the book she was holding.

The face was covered, but the pricking ears and golden eyes were directed at Vlad.

※※※※

On a night when the pure white full moon rose, the elves of Ausrina began to gather in front of the World Tree.

"This feels burdensome, Captain."

"Just think of it as a festival."

Surrounded by all the elves of the village, Vlad and Gott felt a bit bewildered.

They still didn't understand why they had to stand here instead of at the blacksmith's forge to make the sword.

"The sun may be strict, but the moon is merciful. You have to close your eyes for a moment."

Though his staff trembled in his grasp, Geronimo's voice remained clear.

Having regained enough strength to move, Geronimo walked slowly to Vlad and addressed him.

"So, try to imagine. The shape of the sword you desire."

"Just imagine it?"

Listening to Geronimo's words, Vlad looked at the kneeling girl before him.

The girl was adorned with white cloth.

A small crown woven with flowers and grass rested upon her head.

"The clearer and more vivid, the better."

"Understood."

It looked different every time he saw her.

Feeling the inexplicable mystery emanating from the girl whose name he still didn't know, Vlad nodded at Geronimo.

"Close your eyes and prepare."

With those words, Vlad closed his eyes quietly.

The surrounding air suddenly becomes quiet.

Vlad swallowed his saliva without realizing it in an atmosphere of tension rather than fear.

"Let's begin, priestess."

There was no grandiose beginning.

Only the sound of drums echoing softly.

The girl stood up at the sound, quietly placed her hand on her chest, and looked at the young world tree.

"······."

To the incomprehensible language of the elves, the girl began to dance, approaching Vlad and spreading out the cloth she held.

It was like watching a butterfly fluttering its wings.

The sound of drums grows louder.

The melodious voice of the cheerful girl resonates widely along with the sound.

The surroundings are filled with the purity of young spirits.

Clang, clack—

And beyond those sounds, faintly audible, is the sound of a hammer.

Vlad focused on the sound and fell into a deeper world.

"······."

Pitch black darkness.

Vlad walked into the dark mud, following the lead of the fluttering butterfly.

The sticky sensation under foot is familiar yet unpleasant.

The mud was something that was difficult for the young boy to escape from, but for Vlad now, it was only a momentary discomfort.

Clang! Clack!

A nostalgic sound was heard from far away.

Before he knew it, the white butterfly had flown away and was sitting quietly between the cracks in the door of the old blacksmith shop.

Vlad lifts his head to gaze at the blacksmith shop where a single star hangs highest.

The unadorned sword, now a light rather than a sword, was quietly reflecting itself.

"It's been a while."

Guided by the butterfly, Vlad crossed the deeply engraved footprints in front of the blacksmith shop and opened the door.

There, the forge emanates a simmering heat, and the relentless sound of a hammer fills the air.

"I've come."

"So, you have."

Vlad quietly closed his eyes as he listened to the clear voice, feeling as if the old blacksmith might vanish if he were to meet his gaze directly.

"I want to make a sword."

"A sword?"

The old man had said he would no longer forge swords.

He had said that he couldn't make a proper sword with his old body and inadequate forge.

"Well, you've come at a good time. Good materials just came in."

But now he was saying he would indeed do it.

To him, his old body and worn-out tools could no longer be obstacles.

"This is a meteorite, metal fallen from the stars, so it's pure and very hard."

A voice filled with vigor, not gravelly as before.

Hearing that voice, Vlad smiled.

"I hope it's a plain sword. Maybe it's because it was the first one I used, but I feel attached to it."

"Truth is, I can't make anything more than that."

The old blacksmith, taking on the commission, swung the hammer vigorously.

Clang!

The puppy's tiny tail wagged loudly as it tended the fire.

A small bird chirped atop the hammer.

A young pufferfish cooled the water pitcher.

A baby lizard poured sand onto the sword tirelessly.

The girl's hair once brought the plain sword, but the young spirits were now contributing their essence to it.

"It's done."

".....Already?"

Vlad wanted to stay a little longer, feeling the warmth he hadn't felt in a long time, but time in this place was not infinite.

The white butterfly sitting by the door seemed to be growing tired.

"It was good to see you after so long. Now, go."

Vlad quietly opened his eyes, feeling the solid texture of the sword he had come to know so well.

Blue light visible through white cloth fluttering like wings.

A sword with no decorations but shining blue was waiting for Vlad there.