- Liz and I, as if we’d planned it, burst out laughing—puhaha—and walked on together.
After successfully wrapping up our meeting with Count Tolkier, our next stop was the blacksmith’s. Among the many things Sir Briven had asked me for, one was a sword that would be perfect for Killian. I’d decided to start with that request.
Since he wanted to practice imbuing a sword with aura, I thought it would be best to commission a custom-made blade that was sturdy yet light. I was headed to the most famous forge in the capital for that very reason. I mean—what an honor! To be able to give my favorite person their very first sword!
Come to think of it, Noten had never once bought Killian a sword. He’d just tossed him some old blade gathering dust in a warehouse and sent him off to the Whistle Wall.
Of course, Killian had racked up incredible military achievements even with that old, rust-spotted sword—but that was only because he became a Sword Master. I still get teary-eyed remembering how, in the original novel, when he first picked up a sword, the rust on the rough grip gave him blisters, which festered, got infected, and burst.
It already broke my heart to think of his hands getting calloused during sword lessons. But imagining that he had to cut away necrotic flesh because he didn’t even have a sword that fit his hand… Ugh. Noten, that bastard—how do I get rid of him…?
My blood pressure and the string of curses I was holding back surged to my head.
“Your Highness?”
“Ah—sorry.”
Apparently, I’d stopped walking and was fuming without realizing it, because Liz was giving me a worried look. Whoa, whoa. Calm down. Pretty thoughts, pretty heart.
While I cooled my head, we reached the blacksmith’s.
“Welcome!”
“Hello, sir.”
“Well, well. A cute young lady has come to visit.”
I greeted him with the cutest, most cheerful voice I could muster. I had no intention of revealing that I was the imperial princess. For a number of reasons—but mainly because, according to the original story, the owner of this forge was secretly a dwarf, a non-human race.
And I… well, I wasn’t exactly the imperial lapdog leading the subjugation of other races, but… let’s just say the Empire and his kind stood on opposite ends of the battlefield. So I decided it was safer to keep my distance. Risky, sure, but for the sake of my favorite person, I’d take that risk.
I decided to act the part of a spoiled little noble girl.
“Sir, I want a sword.”
“A sword? Little miss, swords are dangerous.”
“A sturdy but smooth sword that goes shwoooosh with black smoke.”
…Is that how you do a lisp? Someone confirm for me.
Judging by Liz’s disgusted expression, I guess it was accurate. I mean, I’m disgusted too, but whatever. I just glared at her and kept talking to the dwarf.
“It’s for a super special person I wuv vewy much. You got one?”
…Now that I think about it, seven-year-olds probably don’t lisp like this.
Just as I was smoothing over my rotting expression from the sudden realization, the dwarf replied.
“A gift for someone you care about? That’s a very kind thought, little miss.”
“He’s my favoritest person, so I want to give him the bestest sword.”
The blacksmith’s face, already red from the forge’s heat, warmed even more with a faint smile.
“All right. If you say so, little miss.”
“Can you do it? Make a sword like that?”
“Of course. I’ll just need a little help from you.”
“This way.”
The dwarf, who introduced himself as Nix, led me into the forge.
“I’ve been itching to work on a sword these past few days—guess it was to meet you.”
Inside, the space was full of sparks and heat. I debated whether to take off my hood. While I hesitated, Nix returned from somewhere with a sword in his hands.
“It’s not finished yet, but I have a feeling this is exactly the kind of sword you’re looking for—sturdy, smooth, able to hold aura. Take a look.”
I raised an eyebrow. The brilliant silver blade reminded me of Killian’s hair. Could I even lift it? It looked about as long as I was tall. Seeing my hesitation, Nix chuckled.
“Don’t worry, try holding it. This sword is a clever one—it adjusts its weight to the wielder.”
“Woooow!”
Wait, what? This existed?
I knew from the original that after returning victorious from war, Killian would visit this forge with Adel, and that the owner turned out to be a dwarf. But I didn’t recall anything about such a metal.
Every time I stumbled across something completely new like this, I was reminded that I was living and breathing in a real, tangible world.
Of course, that didn’t mean I ever fully forgot this was still the setting of the original novel. If only my sense of self were just one clear identity… No, actually, that might have been worse—I’d probably still be riding the express train straight to hell.
The thought of Celestria’s ending in the original sent chills up my neck. I shut my eyes tightly—but before I could open them again, the impatient Nix shoved the sword into my hands.
“Oh?”
“How is it, little miss?”
“Whoa—huh?”
“Pretty amazing, right? With this sword, you could use it for a lifetime.”
“Wow, seriously!!!”
I hadn’t doubted him, but having it proven true was still mind-blowing. The blade was my height and solid, yet light enough to wield easily in one hand.
“I’ll take it! How much?”
“Haha, you sure are quick to decide.”
Wide-eyed with excitement, I asked again, but Nix only laughed heartily—his booming voice echoing in the forge until it rattled my skull.
“How much should I pay? I really want to buy it.”
“Come over here, little miss. Here—see this?”
Nix led me to the anvil. Next to it was a hammer that looked like it had seen centuries of use. He laid the sword on the anvil, then handed me the hammer instead.
“Uh… what’s this for?”
“Think of the person you’re giving this to, and pour all your heart into striking the sword. That will be the price.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Really. Go on.”
…What in the world? Was this like making a wish before blowing out birthday candles?
Well, whatever it was—if it helped my favorite person, I’d do it a hundred times. I gripped the hammer with determined eyes.
“Just once,” Nix whispered in my ear. “Put your whole heart into it. There won’t be a second chance.”
Gulp. Maybe this wasn’t so trivial after all.
I gripped the hammer with both hands, took a deep breath. On the inhale, I thought of Killian. On the exhale, I wished for everything I could:
I hope Killian is happy. I hope he’s always healthy and never in pain. I hope he’s never lonely, and always loved. More than anyone in the world.
My head felt dizzy, like I was overheated. I should’ve taken off my hood—it must’ve been the forge’s heat. The words I repeated in my head started mixing into my breathing. My chest was tight. Just before my thoughts turned hazy, I felt as if something pushed me, and I brought the hammer down with all my strength.
“Haaah…”
In that instant, all the strength drained from my body. The hammer slipped from my hands, and my legs wobbled. Liz, who’d been standing a few steps away, rushed over to catch me—her hands trembling as much as mine.
“What in the world are you—!”
“Shhh.”
Nix pressed a finger to his lips and nodded toward the anvil. Liz and I turned our heads—and there it was: the blade glowing pure white, as if bathed in a blessing.
After a long moment, the glow faded and the sword returned to its original color.
“Here it is, little miss—a sword filled with all your wishes. The one receiving it is lucky indeed.”
“Are you sure I don’t have to pay, sir?”
“If it had broken, I’d have charged you. But since it didn’t, I have no choice but to give it to you. Besides, seeing the rare sight of a sword being imbued with a soul is payment enough.”
“My… soul… went into the sword?”
“It’s just a way of speaking, little miss. Haha.”
Nix wrapped up the conversation with a laugh, then gave the sword a few more finishing strikes. After another round of tempering, the completed blade was beautiful—noble, even.
“It’s found its master. I can send it off gladly. Here, little miss—take it.”
“Thank you, sir. Thanks to you, I can give a wonderful gift. Truly, thank you.”
“No, thank you. May the wielder of this sword see all your wishes come true.”
I bowed, then left the forge with the sword cradled in my arms.
Once in the carriage, I reassured Liz—who was nearly in tears as she fussed over me—before finally getting another look at the sword.
But seriously… what was that just now?
He said my soul went into it…
“I hope Killian likes it.”
“He might cry from jealousy before that, Lady Adel might.”
“Ah! You think so? Then I’ll just buy Adel one too. Problem solved, right?”
Anyway—custom-made sword with a soul: FLEX.
Operation “Make Killian a Sword Master” is going smoothly.
