Chirp, chirp.

Morning birds sang brightly. Sunlight broke into fragments through the leaves, dazzling against the green.

I was stretched out in the backyard behind the annex, basking in the sun like some carefree idler.

“…And here we are again.”

I muttered, staring at my left arm wrapped tight in splints.

At least it wasn’t my dominant right arm that had been injured. Small mercies, I supposed.

But still—ten days until the duel, and this? What a cruel joke.

[The price of carelessness. Accept it.]

At Heavenly Demon’s nagging, I grumbled.

“Master, how is trying to save someone carelessness? How was I supposed to know pressure points wouldn’t work? Was I supposed to be a prophet?”

[You should have seen it at a glance. Must you always taste it to know if it’s soy paste or filth? From the force radiating from him, it was clear. He was no different from a Demonic Human with his mind overturned.]

“Ugh, and now ‘force’ this, ‘qi’ that. My head’s already aching.”

[Tsk, tsk… You’re lucky you didn’t lose the whole arm. Foolish brat.]

“Enough nagging…”

Thump.

I reflexively tapped a pressure point in my arm as I soaked in the warm rays.

Part of why I was lying here wasn’t just boredom with the room—it was because letting nature’s qi flow through my body sped up recovery.

It was a good feeling. My qi brimmed with warmth, filling me whole.

Honestly, lazing around in the sun wasn’t so bad. Lying in a field with nothing to do, listening to the birdsong, watching the way the light fractured over the trees—all of it was pleasant.

I realized, strangely, that I had come to love nature and simple pleasures.

Since when had I become this kind of man? Probably since I first began to accept and wield qi.

Maybe when I returned, Sister would actually praise me for it.

At least the injury wasn’t as severe as last time.

With my abnormal recovery rate, they said I’d be fine after a few days of rest.

But the reassurance didn’t cheer me.

Because now, I had something else weighing on my mind.

“What am I going to do with you…”

I glared at the culprit lying on the grass—Vlad.

It was back to feigning death, perfectly still.

“Hey. Hey.”

I nudged it with my foot.

“…”

As if it had never gone berserk, it now pretended to be some harmless lump of metal.

But I wasn’t a goldfish.

If it hadn’t rampaged yesterday, maybe I’d let it go. But now? Different story.

This insolent hunk of steel must think the ruler of all living things a fool.

“You think I forget overnight, you damned thing?”

The memory of all the suffering it had caused me yesterday had my temper flaring.

I stomped on it mercilessly.

“You bastard.”

Then I paused. Bastard? For something without life, wasn’t that more like a compliment?

I corrected myself.

“You worthless piece of trash.”

[…That temper of yours…]

Just as I was searching for the vilest insult possible for an inanimate object, I felt someone’s presence.

“…What are you doing?”

Hans stood at the edge of the yard, watching me.

I gave Vlad one last kick before replying.

“Oh, you’re here.”

His clothes were sooty, damp with sweat, and parts of his face and hair still wet—he must have washed up after work.

“What brings you out here?”

“Just needed some fresh air.”

“Ah.”

“And you?”

“I was in the middle of a deep and meaningful conversation with my darling Vlad.”

Hans chuckled as he came closer and sat down beside me.

“I heard. You had quite the ordeal yesterday. When the sky blackened and red lightning fell, I was worried sick.”

I raised my bandaged arm and sighed.

“And here’s the result. All thanks to that damned thing.”

Hans laughed heartily.

“Yet you managed to subdue it without killing its wielder. That couldn’t have been easy.”

I sat down fully beside him with a heavy sigh.

“Well… it’s not as if Wolfgang chose that fate. He couldn’t help it.”

Really, Wolfgang wasn’t at fault.

If anything, his only mistake was lacking the willpower to resist the cursed blade.

“You did well. But tell me—didn’t you collect any of the treasure? There must have been a mountain of it.”

He meant Ophosis’s legacy.

I pulled a few gems from my pocket, the ones I had carelessly shoved in earlier.

The moment they caught the light, the air around us seemed to brighten.

“I only took enough for travel money when I go back home. There was too much to bother with.”

Hans chuckled again. “I suppose so.”

“Want a few?”

“No need. What use have I for jewels? You can’t forge a sword with them.”

So he really was Ophosis’s disciple—he treated treasure like pebbles.

Perhaps it had even been Hans who carted all that treasure to the tomb.

Grumbling, dumping it in, then walking away.

Hans squinted against the glare. “Put those away. They’re blinding.”

“Yes, sir.”

I slipped the gems back into my pocket.

“By the way, I heard you’ve started smithing again?”

“That’s right. Doing nothing sat heavy on my heart. And the only skill I have is working iron. When I cautiously mentioned it to the Count, he was delighted and readily agreed.”

Of course he had.

What noble would refuse when the disciple of the legendary smith Ophosis offered to forge blades?

He wouldn’t just welcome him—he’d cling for dear life.

Even if Hans demanded gold in return, they’d pay it.

“Once I stood at the forge again, striking steel, I felt at peace.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I was lucky.”

“Mm.”

“Thanks to you.”

“…Me?”

Hans smiled.

“If not for you, we’d have died to Gustav long ago. And even if by some miracle we’d lived, I wouldn’t have easily thrown myself upon the Count’s mercy. My nature is… stubborn. I’d have refused all help and hidden us away in the woods.”

“A pastoral life. It doesn’t sound so bad.”

Hans shook his head.

“They call it pastoral, but in truth it’s no easy life. My wife and Joy would’ve suffered.”

“I see…”

“When I heard you were being hunted by royal knights, I dropped everything and came running. I couldn’t stand by and watch you die trying to protect us. I didn’t know the one chasing you was the Frost Knight, though. Hahaha!”

Hans laughed for a while, then turned to look at me.

“Thank you. I mean it.”

“….”

I had nothing to say, so I kept my eyes on the view ahead.

Who was thanking whom, exactly…?

For a while we simply sat, letting the warm sunlight and cool breeze wash over us, watching the fresh green grass and the leaves shiver in soft waves.

Still gazing at the scene beside me, Hans suddenly asked, “So—how was the tomb?”

“Well… there was a lot of treasure.”

A thought struck me—Shushruta had pocketed an old compass—so I asked, “Right, there was this worn-out thing that looked like a compass. Do you know what it is? It didn’t look like treasure at all.”

“Hm… hard to say. It’s been too long. There was too much, and too many kinds.”

“I see.”

“One thing is certain: that shabby, un-treasure-like compass is almost certainly a precious treasure. Among such hoards, some are impossible to judge by appearance alone. More often than not, the plain-looking ones are the most valuable.”

“Mm. That makes sense.”

“And?”

“There was a room—with a warning on the door.”

“Ah, you must mean the Trial Room. I heard you stayed inside for seven days. Sounds like the trial was rather difficult.”

Since I thought Hans would believe me, I told him the truth. “Actually…”

“What is it?”

“I thought I was inside for a few hours at most. When I came out, seven days had passed.”

“…What? Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Not like last time, where you lost track of time meditating?”

“I didn’t meditate at all. I just… talked. And talked.”

Hans looked baffled. “Talked? With whom?”

“With Ophosis.”

“…!”

Hans’s eyes flew wide.

“What… what did you just say?”

“I spoke with Lord Ophosis. I don’t know how it was possible.”

Hans was so stunned he stammered. “H-How did you talk to him?”

“I stuck a dagger into the keyhole on the dais. His figure appeared. He said he’d left behind a portion of his consciousness before dying—some kind of application of an Ego Sword, I think he called it.”

“Hm…”

Hans’s face turned serious in an instant. He sank into thought. “An Ego Sword… it could be possible. …But how? And what caused that distortion of time and space?”

Murmuring to himself, he then burst out laughing. “Hahaha, that’s our master. He used to do the impossible as if it were nothing.”

In a buoyant tone, Hans went on, “At the forge he’d say the most preposterous things. If we said, ‘That’s impossible,’ he’d flare up and scold us. ‘What are you, the Smith God Volund? How can you declare it impossible before you’ve even tried? If you’re so brilliant, come take my hammer!’ Hahaha…”

Still smiling, he asked, “So, what did you talk about?”

“The first thing he asked was about his disciples.”

“Ah…”

The smile left Hans’s face.

“So… I told him what I knew.”

“…You did right. We can’t report falsehoods to him.”

He let out a long sigh.

I waited a beat, then added, “He also asked about the prodigal who ran from the forge.”

“What?”

Hans stared at me, blank for a moment, then broke into loud laughter. “Hah! He really said that?”

“Yes.”

“Hahaha… ‘Prodigal’—I haven’t heard that in ages. It’s him, no doubt.”

“When I told him you’d become a family man, he was overjoyed.”

“Was he?”

“Yes. He threw his head back and laughed for a good while. ‘That hellion settled down and started a family?’ he said.”

“Ha-ha-ha!”

Seeing how curious he was, I relayed as much of my conversation with Ophosis as I could remember, in detail.

Hans listened with bright, childlike eyes. When he heard that Ophosis felt at ease knowing Hans was safe under the Count’s protection, he fell quiet for a moment; at the words “final sword,” his eyes lit once more.

I rolled up my sleeve and showed him the dusky bracelet. “This it?”

“Yes. Have you seen it before?”

He turned the bracelet around my wrist, then shook his head. “Hm… no. He must have made it after I left the forge. I’ve heard nothing of it.”

“Do you think it’s really possible? He said when I hold all nine blades, they’ll bloom like a rainbow.”

Even now, it felt unreal.

A sword blooming like a rainbow? Was that a joke or a prophecy?

But Hans only smiled and said simply, “If Master said so, then so it is.”

“Is that so.”

“Still, be careful. You may have defeated the Frost Knight, but you took grievous wounds doing it.”

“Right. I’m not greedy about it. I’ll try only if I have the leisure—someday.”

“Yes, do that. Then… may I ask one favor?”

“What is it?”

“If you ever do make those blades bloom, would you stop by and show me?”

I wondered where that came from.

Looking at Hans’s face—more serious than ever—I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ha-ha!”

Hans blinked. “What’s funny?”

“Ophosis asked me the exact same thing.”

“Ah, did he.”

Our laughter overlapped into a pleasant discord.

Hans chuckled as he stood. “I should get back to work. I lost track of time listening to you.”

I rose as well to see him off. “Thank you for letting me tell you. I think it eased Master’s heart, even a little.”

“Mm.”

“And mine too. I feel lighter. I think I can make a fine sword today. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

Why did he keep thanking me?

I was the one who felt grateful.

“By the way, Linda was looking for you.”

“…Please don’t tell her I’m here.”

I’d come out here specifically to avoid her.

If she yapped ‘Devil! Devil!’ in my ear any more, I was going to lose my mind.

“All right.”

Hans walked off, chuckling.

“Ah—Uncle Hans.”

He turned, as if to ask what it was.

“Lord Ophosis asked me to deliver a message.”

Hans’s eyes widened.

“He said… he’s sorry.”

“….”

Hans stood there like a statue for a long moment, then finally turned to go.

I saw the redness creeping into that taciturn man’s eyes, and pretended not to notice.

(End of Chapter)

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