What Is Passed Down (2)

The day after I told the people of Yosogi-ryu about Yuzuriha Yosogi, I sent out a letter.

The letter was addressed to Azvaldo, my master in blacksmithing.

Yes, the current king of the dwarves.

What present-day Yosogi-ryu had lost—and what I had brought back from the farthest eastern edge of the world—was not merely the story of Yuzuriha Yosogi.

It was also the katana and the method of making them, which Yosogi-ryu had given up using because katana were difficult to obtain here.

The Yosogi-ryu of old may have used katana, but they probably did not know how to make them.

It went without saying that knowing how to wield a katana and knowing how to create one were entirely different matters.

But present-day Yosogi-ryu had blacksmiths among its family members and disciples.

If I passed the method on, they would have the option of using katana once more.

And they could prepare them on their own.

Still, if I had only raised the subject of katana, the people of present-day Yosogi-ryu might have been reluctant.

Because they had already adopted straight swords as substitutes and developed them in their own way.

Returning to katana could mean going backward.

In fact, if you asked whether I would actively use katana myself, the answer was still no.

After all, the Kaeha sword I sought to master was a form of swordsmanship using straight swords.

Kaeha would never be pleased if I fixated on that blindly, either. In pursuit of further evolution, the day would eventually come when I reached for a katana as well.

But that would come much later—after I had kept wielding my straight sword until I could at least touch Kaeha's back with one finger.

For now, all I wanted was to ease the regret of Yosogi-ryu's founder, who must have been forced to give up katana.

After learning Yuzuriha Yosogi's story and considering why Yuzuriha's younger brother had left his homeland, along with the hardships he must have endured before reaching the Kingdom of Rudoria and putting down roots there, I wanted to do that.

I suppose that desire had reached Shizuki and the others—the people of present-day Yosogi-ryu—as well.

Rather than reject my proposal outright, they said they wanted to try holding an actual one at least once.

Some would find straight swords more comfortable in their hands, but there would surely be others who found katana a better fit.

But a katana was not something I could simply hand over, as though to say, 'Here you go.'

I knew how to make them, but other materials were needed as well.

More specifically, the steel needed to make a katana differed somewhat from the steel commonly used in the central regions of the continent.

Of course, the latter could be repurposed, but if we wanted to forge even better katana, we ought to be particular about the materials, too.

So I asked the dwarves to refine tamahagane, the material used to make katana.

In return, I offered them detailed instructions on how to produce tamahagane and make katana.

The letter would probably be carried by a dwarven trade caravan, but since they were not permanently stationed in the Kingdom of Rudoria, it would take a little while to arrive.

Even so, once the dwarves heard about it, they would transport it as quickly as possible, and Azvaldo would surely reply at once.

After all, to them—blacksmiths, and dwarves at that—this was unknown technology, so there was no way they would not jump at it.

Well, my only basis for assuming it was unknown was the incomplete method of forging katana that Azvaldo had taught me before.

I would probably have a reply in hand within two months—perhaps in as little as one.

The dwarves would need to build a specialized furnace, gather iron sand as raw material, and produce tamahagane through trial and error. In my estimation, that would take about a year...

I would actually forge a katana only after that.

“This really is becoming quite an undertaking... But it does sound like you, Master.”

The person who called me Master and said that was Souha, who was now in charge of blacksmithing for Yosogi-ryu.

At the smithy, which had been rebuilt on a larger scale than before, I tilted my head at her words.

Hmm, was it really such a big deal?

Ah, no—now that I think about it, perhaps my sense of scale was the strange thing here.

The dwarves were close friends of mine, so I tended to ask them to do all sorts of things without a second thought. But from the perspective of an ordinary blacksmith, that was an extraordinary request.

For most human blacksmiths, dwarven smithing techniques were probably objects of admiration.

And the dwarven kingdom itself might seem to humans like a wholly unknown, perhaps even mystical place beyond imagination.

Given that I was going to forge katana with the help of such a kingdom, it was only natural that Souha called it a major undertaking.

“Maybe so. But it’s still a long way off, so there’s no need to worry that much.”

As I answered Souha, I picked up each of the prepared smithing tools and examined them.

That’s right. If I kept moving preparations forward little by little, it wasn’t such an overblown matter.

I would need to learn a number of new techniques, but facing fire and iron would remain the same.

Souha smiled and nodded at my reply, but someone else there grew displeased at the exchange.

“If it’s still a long way off, shouldn’t you be preparing for your spar with Grandfather first?”

Kairi, Souha’s eldest son, was the one who addressed me, his voice edged with hostility.

Souha bristled for a moment at her son’s words, but I stopped her with a gesture.

Under the circumstances, Kairi’s dislike of me was understandable.

To him, I was still nothing more than an intruder who had appeared out of nowhere.

For a young Kairi, it would naturally be unpleasant to watch his respected mother call me Master, put me above herself, and treat me deferentially.

But if Souha scolded him, it would do nothing to solve matters; it would only drive his resentment deeper.

Kairi’s resentment toward me was something I would have to resolve myself, by taking the time to earn his recognition.

“That’s true. But Shizuki and I have both spent a long time with swords in hand. We’re crossing blades to show one another what we’ve built up.”

Once I had finished checking the tools, I then held my hand over the forge fire.

The wavering flames were beautiful, radiating intense heat.

Watching that fire, I felt as though it had spread to my own chest.

“In other words, we’ve built up enough that even frantic training now wouldn’t change anything in just a few days. I’ll do what I want, get plenty of rest, and prepare my mind and body so I can properly draw on what I’ve built up. So I’ve been preparing for my spar with Shizuki all along.”

I clenched my hand as if grasping the heat pouring from the fire, then turned back to Kairi.

When our eyes met, he faltered and retreated just a little—less than half a step.

That was all.

I had intimidated him enough that someone fainthearted might have collapsed, but Kairi stood his ground.

His defiant spirit was evidently genuine.

I was a little pleased, and couldn’t help smiling.

After all, whether he ultimately placed more importance on swordsmanship or blacksmithing, that strength of will was an excellent quality.

But perhaps Kairi misunderstood why I was smiling, because his expression twisted with frustration.

Ah, no—I hadn’t meant to do that, but this was proving difficult.

Clearly, we would have to take our time and gradually work toward mutual understanding.

Of course I needed Kairi to understand me, but I also had to get to know him.

For now, then... yes, perhaps we should start by assessing each other’s skill at blacksmithing.

The one thing Kairi and I had in common was that we were both blacksmiths.