Caliburn, the golden sword of victory.
The Sword of Selection that symbolizes the King of Britain.
It is the world-famous sword stuck in the stone.
Since it's such a famous object that everyone who knows anything already knows, I'll skip the detailed explanation for now.
Unlike the equally famous Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory, this sword symbolizes the "king's authority," and compared to other weapons, it has a very strong air of being a "luxurious ornament."
In fact, the scabbard and the rest of it are covered in rather excessive decorative flourishes, and as a weapon, its completion falls far short of Excalibur's.
So, if you asked a hundred people, a hundred of them would probably say the same thing.
No one seeing this sword for the first time would ever think of it as a weapon.
Rather, they'd likely mistake it for a luxury item meant to be hung on a wall and shown off to others.
Yes, I can definitely admit that.
I'll admit it gladly.
In fact, it's more surprising that with such a flimsy-looking sword, he killed that monstrous "Greek Great Bull" seven times.
So I could fully understand Tsubaki's earlier remarks and attitude.
Therefore, I'll endure it for now.
Of course, I was extremely pissed off inside.
Still, as a gentleman, as a civilized human being, I carved the character for endurance into my heart three times and suppressed the anger surging up inside me.
Hoo... good.
Now that I've calmed down again, I can speak to her like a gentleman and have a civilized conversation...
"Hey. What the hell did you just say, you blind idiot?"
Ah.
Oops, that slipped out before I knew it.
Looks like the thread of my reason had already snapped and shattered long ago.
Hahaha, so now there's no backing down.
Still, I do feel a little relieved inside.
Yeah, let's go all the way until it feels like I'm going to die today.
Come out to the rooftop right now, you bitch!
"Why? Did I say anything wrong?"
It seemed Tsubaki felt the same way.
Before I knew it, she had thrown away even the bare minimum of courtesy she'd been holding onto and was glaring at me with thoroughly cold eyes.
It was a look that went beyond indifference and into outright contempt.
How dare she treat a customer who paid a fair price like this.
I shut my mouth and glared back at her, waiting to hear some plausible excuse.
"There are always people like that. People like you, who don't know the first thing about craftsmanship and just throw money around, asking me to make some trivial, flashy piece of eye candy that only looks impressive."
"P-pie... ce of... trash?"
For a moment, I almost fired off a Gandr without thinking.
Hoo, calm down. Calm down.
Fortune comes to those who endure.
Let's hold it in for now and blow it all away later.
Unaware of my inner thoughts, Tsubaki kept going with what she wanted to say.
"Why? Am I wrong? Something made as a sword, yet never used as a sword, left hanging on a wall for its entire life to rust meaninglessly and gather dust—if that isn't trash, then what is it?"
Then she gave me a quick once-over and even snorted.
Now this one-eyed bitch was laughing at me too?
Honestly, I was speechless.
"You're a face I've never seen before. Slim, pretty, and probably some rich noble from outside the city, I'm guessing. But here in Orario, that means absolutely nothing. I trust you know that much basic common sense."
What the hell is she talking about?
Sure, I did leave this world's city for a while in the middle to study the magical knowledge of the outside, but by birth I'm definitely from Orario—more specifically, the slums of Daedalus.
And yet she's the one from outside, and she's going to bring up my background?
That was the moment I lost my words all over again.
Above all, a nobleman?
If I'd had that kind of background, I wouldn't have nearly died of food poisoning digging through trash cans as a kid.
Of course, I also wouldn't have met Lady Hestia.
"Apparently, since I run my own private forge unlike the others, people like you with no sense of propriety come directly to me from time to time. And then they make requests just like yours. Basically, they say they'll pay any amount, so make them the most stylish, most splendid weapon in the world. More accurately, make them a piece of trash that's only pretty. But do you know what?"
"That's incredibly rude to me."
Tsubaki growled the words while glaring daggers at me.
It was clear how much pride and dignity she had in her profession, in the work she did.
But that was that, and this was this.
"Maybe people like you don't understand, but I'm busy. Extremely busy. I don't have even a moment, not even a second, to spare for looking anywhere else. If possible, I'd want to give up eating, shitting, and sleeping entirely and spend all day every day hammering away at this damn forge. I'm that busy! In fact, I want to do exactly that, but because of the physical limits of the human body, I can't, which only makes me even more short on time!"
Everything is for the sake of reaching the realm of the gods.
The hammering for that purpose, the sweat shed for that purpose.
I could understand that much.
In a sense, I'm in a similar position myself.
Everything is for the sake of pursuing the end of romance.
But that gives me absolutely no reason to understand or accommodate her crimes.
"Even so, I need that damned money if I'm going to keep doing this. So I take orders from trash like you too. Because, after all, it makes money. But there's a limit to everything."
As she said that, Tsubaki pointed at Caliburn in my hand.
And she did it with a look far more contemptuous than before, one that even seemed to carry anger.
Yet for some reason, I could also sense a trace of narrow-mindedness in her eyes.
"Oddly enough, your design was detailed enough that I understood it at a glance. This sword can't possibly be used as a weapon. At best, it's a fragile ornament that would snap with a single swing from a trained warrior. Just a piece of trash that's only pretty."
So she forcibly made it sturdier as a ceremonial sword.
At the very least, so that that pitiful piece of trash wouldn't lose even its shape and meaning as a sword made by her own hand.
I'll praise that mindset and that unnecessary consideration in their own way... but my conclusion was already set.
"No matter how disposable a weapon is, there's still a line. You want me to make something like that? You should've just asked for extra flair like those other idiots. If that were the case, I could've added whatever decorations you wanted. The basic structure of a weapon is mine to decide. But that's not what you want, is it? Sorry, but no matter how badly I need money, I won't make something that's only pretty, not even if I have to apologize to this hammer. No, I can't make it."
So take your eye candy trash and get the hell out of my sight.
And with that, her argument was over.
In other words, her craftsmanship simply could not allow it.
It was all painfully obvious from start to finish.
"Heh... heh heh heh..."
"Hm?"
I had been quietly enduring that utterly trivial story in my head, carving the character for endurance over and over again, when in the end I laughed.
I really did try to hold it in, but somehow this laughter coming out of my mouth just wouldn't stop.
So in the end...
"Hahahahahaha...!"
So you just arbitrarily assumed things based on your own standards and changed my request however you pleased, huh?
How could I not laugh at that?
I can't hold it in even if I die.
No way, not a chance.
"What? Did you eat something weird at noon and lose your mind? Didn't you hear me telling you to get lost alrea..."
"Despair to the arrogant."
"Huh?"
"You'll regret this."
Tsubaki looked at me as if I were insane.
But without bothering to argue further, I glared at her with the anger boiling up inside me and the disappointment that had gone ice-cold, then left her forge.
So that's what the greatest blacksmith in Orario amounts to.
I'm so dumbfounded I can't stop laughing.
"Fine. Yeah. I'll use this sword exactly as it is, just as you wanted."
All right, I've decided.
I'll complete Caliburn's replica with this one.
No, if possible, I'll surpass the original itself.
It'll probably be insanely difficult. The design I'd already laid out will all have to be scrapped and redone from the beginning. It'll consume far more resources than I originally planned.
"I'll make sure to carve it into that one-eyed bitch's memory!"
That brilliant light.
The mark of a sacred myth.
The recreation of a great legend that this sword will never end as nothing more than a wall ornament!
"Tsubakiiiiii! I'm not stopping until I make you cry!"
Burning hotter than she had ever raged—no, even more than that—I ground my teeth.
Then I went into the workshop inside the shop and never came out again.
Part One, complete!
"...as if."
A month later.
After finishing all my preparations, I stepped out into the world once more.
Now then, let's tell the story of the king.