Chapter 122
Taaang! Kkaang! Screeeech!
Holy Blacksmith, Gregory.
Callias stood facing him.
Of course, he wasn't alone.
"Hero of the nation. Count Zerban. What brings a noble like you to this humble place?"
Glancing to the side, Gregory struck his hammer, pretending not to care.
"He's a dwarf, Dexter. He is my man, so allow him to use the forge."
A few days after waking from his coma, Callias had sent a communication to the North to summon Dexter.
He had heard the news that Dexter was still struggling with the Gangshin Sword.
"Why should I?"
"Compared to the Empire, the Kingdom's swords aren't of such outstanding quality. With Dexter here even for a short while, he will impart much, so wouldn't it be better to accept?"
"Hmph! What does a noble know? You, who have probably only wielded a sword with those hands and never forged one, what do you know about the quality of swords to prattle on about it?"
It was a perfectly understandable reaction.
Holy Blacksmith Gregory.
He was the most recognized Holy Blacksmith in the Order.
As such, he possessed immense pride. Forcing Dexter into this place would be impossible.
Unless he changed Gregory's perception of him.
"You only quench with water. Is there a reason?"
"Then what else would I use? Don't tell me you're going to say we should quench with blood like barbarians to cool the cast iron?"
Even for a Holy Blacksmith of the Kingdom, his level was utterly insignificant compared to modern standards.
"If you only quench with water, it cools too rapidly. Doesn't the cast iron warp or break?"
"Isn't that obvious? Doing one's best to handle that part is what makes a Holy Blacksmith!"
"Sigh, use oil."
"Oil?"
"Or use salt water; there are many methods. Using blessed water would also be good."
The quality of the Kingdom's swords was not very good compared to the Empire.
The reason was partly the lack of talent, but also because they stubbornly stuck to traditional methods for quenching and smelting.
That wouldn't do.
Quenching only with water was a measure of the civilization's level in the first place.
'Water isn't bad.'
But it wasn't particularly good either.
The properties of cast iron are all different.
Some suit water, while others absolutely do not.
Most iron ingots for Spirit Swords and above have multiple properties intertwined, so quenching them with water easily deforms the cast iron.
Therefore, one must use appropriate methods, such as oil that maintains a constant temperature or techniques that weaken deformation.
Quenching itself is done to make the iron stronger; if the iron deforms, how can it be strong?
The Kingdom's technological level was too poor.
Thus, Callias had brought Dexter.
"You're working me too hard."
"Just bear with it."
The water used for quenching and the forge welding.
Just making small adjustments to these parts speeds up the mass production of swords and improves their quality.
And.
Callias drew his dagger and slightly cut his palm.
"What! Suddenly what are you...!"
The dripping blood was brimming with divine power.
He dropped it into the water bucket.
"It's a classical method, but not a bad one. How about trying a few more diverse approaches?"
As if greatly shocked, Gregory scrambled to fetch some half-finished iron from somewhere, worked the bellows to heat it in the fire, and hammered it, quickly drawing out the shape of a sword.
Then, swallowing hard, he spoke.
"I don't completely trust the Count's words. However, testing it isn't that difficult. This is cast iron I obtained with great difficulty... I always suffered setbacks at the quenching stage."
It was because the iron would warp if he only submerged it in water. Gregory submerged the hammered cast iron into the water containing Callias's holy blood.
Screeeech!!
Black lumps fell away, and the sword he pulled out...
"Ooh! Th-there's no warping!!"
It had a flawless shape, as if shedding a chronic affliction. Gregory admired it for a while before nodding his head towards Callias.
"You wouldn't do this out of simple goodwill. Is there something you want to ask of me?"
"Dexter."
"Ahem."
A sword wrapped in cloth appeared from Dexter's embrace.
A broken sword.
It was the Gangshin Sword.
"This... even though it's broken, its form is fixed. It's quite a high-rank sword even among Spirit Swords. It looks to be at least First Grade."
First Grade was just below Special Grade.
Still, it meant it was a fairly high-rank sword.
"Fix this."
"This...? You said your name was Dexter. It seems you couldn't fix it."
"That's right. Regrettably."
Dexter couldn't fix the Gangshin Sword.
So Callias had called him.
If he were alone, that would be one thing, but with Gregory, it might be different.
'Gregory.'
He might be a veteran, but he was an old man with plenty of room for growth. Though a stuffy traditionalist, Dexter was a Holy Blacksmith who could grow alongside him.
So if the two worked together, things would change.
Honestly, the Gangshin Sword was no longer necessary.
Because he had the Gwangryong Sword.
The Gwangryong Sword was the superior counterpart to the Gangshin Sword.
The Gangshin Sword probably couldn't be fixed.
Nevertheless, there was a reason he gathered Dexter and Gregory in one place.
"It's too hot! Can people actually live here?"
It was Beatrice.
A dwarf and a Holy Blacksmith.
And with the synergy of a Sacred Gold Alchemist, something quite promising might emerge.
* * *
The training room within the castle.
Three people were situated in the personal space arranged for the Queen.
One of them was the Queen, and Victor, the Guardian Sword who should always be by her side, was there as well.
And.
"Your Majesty."
"Yes."
"If you stick that close to your enemy, you won't be able to swing your sword."
"The Count isn't an enemy, is he?"
"We are in the middle of a sparring session."
The Count who was instructing her in the sword.
Callias was with her.
"I stumbled."
The Queen was practically in Callias's embrace.
Thanks to that, Callias felt like dying.
The Playboy characteristic kept making him want to wrap his hands around her waist and whisper sweet words.
But he clenched his teeth and endured.
Callias, the incarnation of a Ruffian and a Playboy.
But the Ruffian was now gone.
With a firm will, he should be able to resist something like a Playboy, shouldn't he?
He had slightly brushed her waist, but she probably wouldn't have noticed.
"Is... that so?"
"...Yes."
Pulling away with her head bowed, the Queen cleared her throat and pointed her sword again.
"If there's any difficult part, please tell me without hesitation. I will explain it as detailed as possible."
"I don't quite understand why there's no basic form in the swordsmanship."
The basic form of swordsmanship.
A quite important part.
It refers to the basic sword path form that determines the foundation of swordsmanship.
For example, the Kingdom has the Carpe-style swordsmanship, said to have been created and disseminated by the founding king during wartime.
Its basic form is structured around thrusts and downward strikes.
But what about Eunhwapageom? There's none of that.
If you ask why, it's because the one who created it was Saint Stella.
"Eunhwapageom is... a swordsmanship of too high a level from the start."
"Pardon? But didn't you say it, Count? That Eunhwapageom is a sword for the weak."
That's right.
Eunhwapageom is a sword for the weak.
That was why he had said it was a sword unfitting for the strong.
However.
"The weak one who made the sword was Stella."
But Stella thought.
That she was weak. Thus, she created an absurd swordsmanship.
A sword without a sword form.
That was the foundation of Eunhwapageom.
It is a swordsmanship based on irregular sword paths and diverse variability depending on the situation.
In a word, it could be called an erratic sword that goes all-in on the knight's disposition and resourcefulness.
'There is no swordsmanship that considers forming Sword Qi as its basic foundation in the first place.'
But Stella's swordsmanship did exactly that.
It was a high-tier martial art that required one to freely handle Sword Qi from the very first technique.
At the time she created Eunhwapageom, it was natural for Stella to wield Sword Qi the moment she grasped her sword.
That was why such a swordsmanship was born.
The idea that for a weakling to defeat a knight with Sword Qi, they must shatter that Qi and launch a counterattack—that was the very origin of Eunhwapageom.
A bizarre swordsmanship made possible by a talent that shouldn't originally exist—that was Eunhwapageom.
Thus, Eunhwapageom was a martial art that was not easy to pass down, no matter who one tried to teach it to.
Thus, it was a lost swordsmanship.
"The Saint of the Sword. The swordsmanship she created, Eunhwapageom, is of a higher level than any other swordsmanship on the continent. I, too, struggled for years to learn this swordsmanship."
First, one had to comprehend the profound principles of the Pahwaro, and to execute it, one had to undergo several epiphanies and elevate their level.
Yet, with no basic form to train the swordsmanship up to the crucial Pahwaro, it was a swordsmanship that inevitably caused immense hardship.
It was a sword for the weak, yet one that only geniuses could learn.
The sword for the weak, created by a genius, was born full of contradictions.
"I see... Even for you, Count, learning it was that difficult. The rumors going around must have been true."
"Rumors, you say?"
"Yes, I heard that the Count was actually a sword genius, but deliberately acted like a ruffian to hide the fact that he was learning Eunhwapageom."
Callias could not satisfy the Queen's curiosity, who looked at him with eyes that seemed to ask if it were true.
When he maintained his silence, Queen Clara quickly changed the subject.
It was out of consideration.
"Then will I be unable to learn the swordsmanship? I am... not a genius like Sir Esther."
Carpe's greatest genius, Esther.
Her innate talent was truly outstanding.
To the point where she was slowly nearing completion.
'Especially since she gained Sollivian...'
Thanks to her, it was safe to say Carpe's destruction had been delayed by a few more years.
Because, according to the original storyline, she was the one who led Carpe, which had barely maintained its lifeline and became a ruined nation.
But even as great as she was, she couldn't revive Carpe.
The royal bloodline.
With the royal bloodline, standing at the center of Valterus's grace, disappearing, Carpe had no choice but to lose its focal point and walk the path of decline.
'Pure white hair and pure white eyes.'
White hair and white eyes were the blessings of the gods.
And they contained grace.
Zerban was the eyes. Gradas was the nose.
Luidren was the ears. Orbvid was the mouth.
And the royal Bright was...
'The brain.'
It could be called the head that housed the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.
The royal bloodlines were all exceptionally intelligent. Even Grand Duke Chloe committed the blunder of taking the Gwangryong Sword, but she was originally a very brilliant person.
Therefore, it was possible.
"Your Majesty is more outstanding than anyone else in Carpe."
She just hadn't realized her own power yet.
If Clara realized her true power, Carpe would find another way to survive.
'Carpe needs time.'
Callias himself, the Queen, and the people in Carpe all had outstanding potential.
Except for those who were already fully realized, most were late bloomers.
So Carpe needed time.
"I appreciate your trust, but I am... not that outstanding compared to my predecessors."
"Your Highness."
"Yes?"
Her long braided white hair swayed at Callias's call.
What settled in her pure white pupils was anxiety.
And anxiousness.
After Grand Duke Chloe met her fate, the girl who had to ascend the throne and rule Carpe at a young age had grown older, but was still young.
Nevertheless, she was young.
She was more furious than anyone at the Empire's invasion, but at the same time, more anxious than anyone.
Because she knew her own shortcomings better than anyone.
Sitting on a throne that was far too spacious for her.
How much fear must she have harbored inside all this time?
Callias unconsciously wrapped his hands warmly around her cheeks.
"Ah..."
The Queen, who had only recently come of age.
Her white eyes trembled relentlessly.
But Callias spoke to her, his voice filled with resolve.
"Do not belittle yourself."
He would never let her die.
If she died, Carpe would fall.
"Because I am... of the royal bloodline?"
"No. The bloodline doesn't matter."
"Then...?"
Callias looked at her wordlessly. The one who had intended her death was none other than himself.
"Because in a world without you, there is no place for my sword."
"...!!"
An embrace.
"... Do you have a fever or something?"
Her face suddenly turned red.
"Ah, no! It's nothing. Th-let's end it here for today!"
"There is still time left, though."
"My body! My body suddenly feels unwell. Victor!"
"Did you call me..."
Victor looked back and forth between the Queen and Callias and smiled an inscrutable smile.
"What is the next schedule?"
"With the high and low officials..."
"Cancel it."
"Understood."
The Queen, flushed red up to her ears, turned her back to Callias.
At the clear dismissal, he retreated with a bewildered face.
"Haa, really."
Biting her lip, the Queen had to cool the heat on her face for a long time, muttering that he was truly an incorrigible man.