The Town of Shining Stone (2)

I had done my best to avoid getting involved with human royalty and nobility, but Count Marmaros had piqued my interest.

Yet just because I was interested in the count did not mean he would necessarily be interested in me.

He might take an interest in the elven race, but I felt that alone probably would not be enough to really draw him in.

If I were Rebis, I could use painting as a foothold; if I were Huresio, I could use song to appeal to Count Marmaros's artistic sensibilities.

However, I had no knowledge of painting, nor was I skilled at poetry or song.

Then I would have to draw on my own strengths to pique the count's interest.

That would probably be a field somewhat outside Count Marmaros's tastes.

But no—or rather, that was precisely why I wanted to use it to pique his interest.

I would present him with a sword so compelling that even a man who refused to wear one because he considered it rough and uncouth would find himself wanting to own it.

Not a gaudily decorated blade whose only virtue was its appearance, but a beautiful sword whose practicality was the source of its beauty.

Fortunately, this town also had a blacksmiths' guild of decent size.

That was because demand was high for tools used to work marble and quarry stone.

When I showed my license at the blacksmiths' guild I visited, they were surprised, but arranging a forge went smoothly.

Now then, what sort of sword should I forge?

I lit the forge, took up my smithing tools, and thought as I breathed in the scent of the iron I would use as material.

When I thought of a sword made beautiful by its function, the first thing that came to mind was a katana.

Surely, a beautiful weapon not seen around these parts would pique Count Marmaros's interest.

But I had to reject that idea.

The reason was that tamahagane, the material used to make katana, was not available here.

Of course, I could forge a decent katana from ordinary iron, but knowing what the ideal material was, I could not help letting a spirit of compromise creep into it.

Even a katana forged as a compromise might attract interest simply because it was unusual.

But I did not think it could truly capture the heart of a count whose eye for art had been well trained.

Then what about a straight sword, the sort wielded in the Yosogi style I was most skilled in?

This, too, was hardly a good idea.

It would certainly produce the most polished piece, but... unfortunately, straight swords were difficult to wield.

Of course, the same was true of a katana, and Count Marmaros, who had never even worn a weapon before, could not master one.

No matter how excellent an item was, if it could not be used, I could not proudly call it functional.

Then, even if it could not serve as a sword, a dagger small enough to throw in a pinch would be best.

It should also be decorative and beautiful, with enough presence that wearing it might somewhat blunt the other nobles' accusations that he was effete.

...Ah, those were incredibly difficult conditions, but one thing came to mind.

It was a dagger called a cinquedea.

It was broad, large for a dagger, and imposing, while grooves carved into its wide blade enhanced its decorative appeal.

It was sturdy, excellent for thrusting, and well suited to parrying an enemy's attacks; it looked beautiful and had enough presence for a weapon of self-defense.

Rather than merely carving grooves into the blade, I could add all sorts of embellishments... perhaps even carve a pattern into it and complete it as a magic tool.

I did not know whether Count Marmaros had any talent for magic, but even if he could not use its functions as a magic tool, it would be amusing as a playful touch.

If I gave the hilt, pommel, guard, and even scabbard a unified design and put everything I had into it, I was confident I could capture Count Marmaros's heart.

Whether in the central regions of the continent, its east, or the island nation farther east, and whether my opponent was human, immortal, or dwarf, my smithing had never failed to make an impression.

That was because my master at the forge was a craftsman greater than anyone else—skilled enough to become king of the dwarves through his ability alone.

As always, if I simply focused on smithing worthy of my master's name, there could be no one it failed to impress.

Fortunately, I had already brushed the rust off my smithing skills in Jampemon.

Once I decided to make it, the overall design came naturally to mind, as if it had all been decided in advance.

Some fine adjustments would be necessary, but the design had surely taken shape naturally from my desire to learn sculpture and the impressions this town had left on me.

The flames in the forge burned a vivid red.

A fire had kindled in my own chest as well.

When I called to it, the fire spirit within the forge leaped and danced happily.

I thought that starting with smithing, of all things, after coming here to study sculpture, was so very like me.

It was not merely a premonition—I knew it for certain.

The dagger I was about to forge might fail once or twice—or even three or four times—and force me to start over from the beginning.

But even so, if I completed it without making compromises, I knew it would unquestionably be a masterpiece.

And when I brought the hammer down, the red-hot iron sang out with a wonderful sound.

As sparks scattered through the air, my heart, too, was honed to a keener edge.