Chapter 28
[Back in my day, I had to fight with a longsword three times bigger than me. And that’s not all. If you managed to endure the ogre’s massive axe, you’d feel like your whole body was about to shatter!]
…To sum it up in one word, the swords stored in this warehouse were chatty.
[Don’t make me laugh! I was right there beside you back then, and the ogre I fought was way bigger than yours!]
[Mine was a shaman!]
I pulled my hand away as I listened to the swords arguing about who had the tougher opponent.
‘Ugh, noisy.’
Legendary swords were noisy.
That much was now very clear to me.
The stronger the sword, the louder its voice. The stronger the sword aura, the stronger the presence.
Then… was that why Gram could speak to me even when it wasn’t by my side? Because it was so powerful?
But my Gram never spoke to me.
All it did was show me Diana Isla’s memories.
‘Why doesn’t my Gram have a voice?’
Was it because it was broken?
Or because it wasn’t truly a legendary sword?
As I pondered, Soren asked,
“Why did you want to see these dusty swords anyway?”
He coughed as he opened yet another box at my request.
Hannah, watching him, spoke up.
“Sir Soren. Do not question the Grand Duchess’s orders.”
“We’re not machines, are we? Even so, shouldn’t we at least know why we’re opening these dusty boxes—”
Seeing Hannah’s cold expression, Soren quickly shut his mouth and tucked his lips inward.
As expected…
That woman is terrifying.
While thinking that, I opened my mouth.
The main reason I came here was to gather information about this land from the swords.
But that wasn’t the only reason.
I needed a better excuse to say out loud.
“I need a sword to replace Gram.”
“Gram? The Gram that’s with Valter?”
Soren’s voice cracked in surprise, and Hannah shot him a glare.
“Do you think it’s that one?”
“…Then… you mean the broken Gram?”
I nodded in response to Soren’s baffled question.
“Yes, that Gram.”
“Your Highness, the Lord doesn’t typically use legendary swords. He can channel aura through any weapon, and his unique aura often clashes with the sword aura of legendary blades, which can actually be dangerous—”
“What did I just say?”
“You said not to argue with the Grand Duchess… but this is something that needs to be said!”
“No more talking. Just open the next box, Sir Soren.”
The two of them bickered like enemies.
To me, it just seemed like their personalities didn’t match at all.
Though, to be fair, not many could probably get along with someone like Hannah…
Anyway.
Amin Wilhelm had always avoided using legendary swords.
He could fight well with any blade, and just as Soren said, his special aura might conflict with the aura in a legendary sword.
But Gram had been different.
Why?
“That broken sword…”
I quietly spoke up between the arguing pair.
“What made it different?”
At my question, Soren glanced at Hannah and shrugged.
“We don’t know either. The Lord said it was a strange sword.”
“A strange sword?”
“It had sword aura, but no soul. That’s what he said.”
Soren scratched his head, clearly unsure what his own explanation meant.
“Well, the Lord does say some mysterious things from time to time.”
“You’re the only one who doesn’t understand them,” Hannah retorted.
Soren frowned deeply at her jab.
[A great sword that saved me.]
I recalled Amin’s words and shook my head.
A great sword, he said.
But it had no soul?
What did that mean?
Maybe Amin Wilhelm really was just someone who said weird things.
[There was something I needed to confirm.]
What exactly did he need to confirm?
I remembered the sensation of something brushing my lips and absentmindedly touched them, only to startle myself and pull my hand away.
[Heh heh heh! Typical filthy human thoughts filling your mind, eh?]
At that moment—
[Filthy humans…]
A whisper tickled my ear.
It was so quiet that I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been paying close attention.
The voice sounded like a snake hissing…
or a rat squeaking…
something eerie and hard to place.
[Never trust the ones who live above ground.]
The voice grew louder just as Soren opened another box Hannah had pointed to.
The moment he pried the lid open with a poker, the box collapsed.
[Cough! Cough! Who dares! Do you even know who I am…!]
“This is…”
Soren furrowed his brows as he picked up the sword lying beneath the shattered lid.
It was a decrepit blade, barely holding together.
“This… isn’t this just a skewer?”
[Hey! What did you just call me?!]
The sword’s enraged voice rang throughout the warehouse, even though I wasn’t touching it.
“This thing should probably be thrown out. The warehouse keeper didn’t even label the box—it must’ve ended up here by mistake.”
At Soren’s words, the sword shouted in horror:
[Throw me away?! I am the sword of the first Head of House! I was forged through the mighty hammering of Eitri and Brok!]
Eitri?
Brok?
I’ve heard those names before…
And the sword of the first Head?
“I’ll throw it out on the way out,” Soren muttered, tossing the sword into a bag.
The sword’s tone suddenly changed.
[Ah, wait! Wait just a moment! I haven’t even finished my introduction…!]
Hearing the desperate plea, I held up my hand to Soren.
He froze and looked at me.
“Is something wrong?”
[Ah, yes, that’s right. You recognize the greatness of the first lord’s sword, don’t you? Typical of a filthy-minded human. Heh heh… Or is it the sword talking? But your sword aura is so weak—it reeks of being man-made…]
So it was talking to me.
But Eitri, Brok…
Those names…
‘Could it be…?’
The moment I realized it, something came to me.
[Aha. Now I see. You’re quite the sword yourself. A little young, but…]
A voice came right up to me, followed by a familiar vision.
* * *
[I too was once a great sword.]
What I saw before me was an unimaginably white flame.
So bright, it could’ve been the sun itself.
My father used to say you could judge a fire’s heat by its color.
But that a hotter flame wasn’t always better.
To withstand a stronger fire, you needed stronger iron.
In front of me, a small figure kept stoking that white-hot flame.
Another figure pulled out glowing yellow metal and began hammering it without hesitation.
The scene was exactly as I had always imagined.
[The dwarves who live underground can sniff out good iron like nothing else. They know how to wield fire as hot as a volcano. They melt iron in that fire, and with their ancestral hammers, forge blades that no human-made weapon can match.]
A legend passed down among blacksmiths:
Two dwarven brothers who forged powerful artifacts deep beneath the earth’s molten fires.
The tale of Eitri and Brok.
But nowadays, dwarves were considered low-intelligence monsters, and ancient legends like this were seen as mere fantasy.
[Legend? Fantasy? Hah! Humans—who can’t even live a hundred years—love acting like they know everything about the past.]
As the sword’s voice echoed, the two dwarves paused their work.
The one with the hammer quenched the blade in oil, sending flames leaping into the air.
Even as blue flames flared up, the dwarf didn’t flinch.
When the sword was lifted from the oil, I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping my lips.
Perfect.
Its shape, its color—everything was flawless.
[Yes. A blade unlike any made by humans. That’s me.]
A voice, full of pride, whispered in my ear.
[You’re not such a bad sword yourself, but compared to me, you’re barely a snack. See? I am the sword of the great blacksmiths beneath the earth.]
The sword, radiating with confidence, was now complete before my eyes.
Its sleek, powerful form bore an inscription.
“We name this sword Balmung, and present it as a symbol of unity between dwarves and humans to His Majesty.”
Eitri and Brok knelt before someone.
That person solemnly took the sword into their hands.
And repeated their words:
“We name this sword Balmung, and present it as a symbol of unity between dwarves and humans to His Majesty.”
[I am the sword of the ruler of this land.]
The first Head of House.
The moment he raised Balmung into the air—
All the blacksmiths around him fell to their knees.
As if bound by some magic spell.
Only then did I fully realize what I was seeing.
This was the same type of vision Gram had once shown me—
a memory from a legendary sword.
