Chapter 12
“Then I’ll go ahead first.”
Arnluf, having gathered his swords, turned to give a calm nod of greeting to Schmidt and Sigmund in turn, then walked away.
Schmidt didn’t seem to care whether he left or not; his attention was entirely on Sigmund’s sword.
Schmidt, a master craftsman once ranked among the top in the royal city and who had previously forged swords for the knights of the royal order, had only created two masterpieces since opening his own workshop.
The first was the Kolischmard made for Arnluf, and the second was Sigmund’s Flamberge.
Because of this, he always looked forward to seeing these two swords, wondering when they might be brought back for repairs.
Recently, news of Prince Arnluf and Sigmund’s return had filled Schmidt with anticipation. Every time the two came to the royal city, they always entrusted their swords to him.
But this time, that wasn’t possible. Prince Arnluf had died unexpectedly in an accident.
Schmidt felt a twinge of regret at the thought that he would never again see that fierce and sharp sword. He briefly recalled the Kolischmard that had just been sold—while not quite on par with the one given to Prince Arnluf, it was still a fine sword, shaped by the hands of a master.
“Schmidt, the man who just left—his sword.”
Sigmund, who had been quiet as if reading Schmidt’s thoughts, suddenly spoke.
“Yes? Ah, yes, Sir Sigmund.”
Schmidt, lost in his own thoughts, quickly snapped to attention and bowed his head.
“The Kolischmard.”
“Ah, yes. It was custom-made for me, and it was completed today, so I stopped by.”
“You commissioned it?”
“Yes. Though it’s not quite at the level of the one given to Arnluf.”
Schmidt clicked his tongue regretfully. If possible, he would have liked to reclaim Arnluf’s sword, but that was out of the question.
He remembered Arnluf testing his swords in the workshop: the prince holding Kolischmard in his right hand and the parrying dagger in his left, fierce yet elegant, precise, and effortless. Even just moving briefly to test the sword, Schmidt could understand why Arnluf was considered the top knight of the kingdom.
It had been a source of pride to see Arnluf favor the sword he had poured so much effort into creating… and now the thought that he would never see that again filled him with sorrow.
“Did this man usually deal here?”
Schmidt had worked as a master blacksmith for the royal knights for over a decade, and after retirement, he opened this workshop, creating swords for only a few select people he was personally acquainted with.
For outsiders, only those introduced by regular patrons could commission a sword.
“No. It’s his first time here.”
That made sense. Joseph and a sword workshop—what an incongruous combination. Most of Joseph’s activities, the ones Schmidt could guess without even asking, revolved around taverns, gambling halls, and social clubs.
“But you made a sword for him?”
Schmidt, still dazzled by Sigmund’s Flamberge, realized only now that Sigmund’s question was not mere curiosity.
“Do you know him, Sir Sigmund?”
“You don’t know him?”
Schmidt blinked. He might not have known Joseph, given his obsession with swords, but still… not recognizing someone who had recently gained attention because of Arnluf?
He recalled the man who had just left: the ornate tassel on the Flamberge, the finely tailored clothing, the elegant demeanor. Schmidt guessed he was from a noble family.
But that alone wasn’t enough to make Schmidt craft a sword for him.
“I don’t know him personally. But he came on Arni’s recommendation, so I trusted him and made the sword.”
“…Arni?”
Sigmund’s expression changed immediately.
“Are you sure you said Arni?”
“Yes, that’s right. He said he came on Arni’s introduction.”
Why…?
Schmidt began to sense Sigmund’s scrutiny. Despite being a great noble, Sigmund respected the master craftsman and behaved cautiously, speaking politely as if he were Schmidt’s own grandfather. Schmidt had never found Sigmund intimidating, partly because they had known each other since Sigmund’s days with the knight order.
But Schmidt also knew there were moments when Sigmund’s demeanor could suddenly change.
‘This must be one of those moments. Did I do something wrong?’
No matter how renowned a master he was, Schmidt was still a commoner. It would be unwise to upset a high-ranking noble.
“Did I make a mistake…?”
Schmidt asked cautiously.
“No, no. I just haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
“Oh…! That’s right. It’s been ages since I’ve welcomed a customer with that name. How is Arni doing?”
“…Well, he’s doing fine.”
Sigmund hesitated slightly when he said “well,” but Schmidt didn’t notice.
“I see. That explains it, I guess. That man requested an interesting addition.”
“An interesting addition?”
“Yes. He asked for the emblem engraved on the Ricaso to be a phoenix.”
Sigmund’s eyes lit up at this.
“Hah…!”
It wasn’t a mistake. Sigmund exhaled sharply, staring at Schmidt’s hands holding the sword. Unlike Kolischmard, the Flamberge was simpler and lacked a Ricaso on the handle. Sigmund had asked Schmidt to decorate the area from the guard to the top of the handle with a phoenix, modeled after Arnluf’s Ricaso.
Schmidt had hesitated and suggested it would be better to engrave the emblem at the base of the blade.
So Sigmund’s Flamberge bore a phoenix with wings spread wide, perfectly matching the flame-like blade. And now Joseph had requested the same for the newly made Kolischmard.
“Sir Sigmund?”
Seeing Sigmund’s gaze colder than before, Schmidt could no longer hide his unease. He had never seen him so icy.
He had made the sword based on hearing the name Arni… only to realize the red-haired noble had lied!
The thought of offending a high noble made Schmidt’s mind race. Then he remembered Arnluf moving elegantly with two swords. Perhaps that was why this young man bought two swords.
“And he purchased the parrying dagger as well. He must have admired Prince Arnluf…”
Surely he must be a noble, Schmidt thought, trying to make sense of it, but before he could finish, Sigmund’s voice grew even colder:
“The parrying dagger?”
“Yes. The first day he came, he immediately chose Kolischmard, then naturally picked the parrying dagger. So I thought he was either a knight who knew Prince Arnluf well or a noble.”
Indeed, Joseph and Arnluf were not complete strangers. They were both from the Royal Academy, and Joseph had many opportunities to see Arnluf.
But Joseph admired Arnluf? And his swordsmanship?
‘Ridiculous.’
Since waking at the hospital, Sigmund had heard many strange stories about Joseph Pomozein. But nothing as absurd as this.
Sigmund looked at his sword once more. He needed to verify this properly.
Back at the mansion, Arnluf smiled faintly at Finn, who wagged his tail excitedly. It reminded him of how a troubled puppy looks when it sees its owner.
“Finn, what’s going on?”
“Sir Ziben has been waiting for you since earlier.”
“Ziben?”
Arnluf recalled the man who had suddenly appeared and disappeared last time, a friend of Joseph’s.
“Where is he?”
“The drawing room.”
Arnluf headed straight there.
“Ah, you’re here at last! How could you leave a guest waiting alone like this?”
“What’s the matter?”
Arnluf, sitting down and placing his two swords beside him, asked indifferently. Ziben’s face showed surprise.
“Why the swords?”
“Just…,” Arnluf replied casually, then told Finn to bring tea.
“Shall I display them somewhere?”
Ziben spoke as if he didn’t think Arnluf could use them. Arnluf neither confirmed nor denied, simply picking up the teacup Finn placed before him.
“Really? You? Why the sudden interest?”
Watching silently, Ziben seemed incredulous. In all the time he had known Joseph, he had never seen him wield a sword. Joseph usually fought with fists or kicks, which wasn’t particularly impressive.
“Sir Joseph is amazing with swords!”
Finn, who had just brought a cup of water, couldn’t help but interject.
