Chapter 45: Unique Metal
Seven days passed in the blink of an eye.
And today was the day, Derek would go to the academy.
Warm golden light slipped through the gaps in the window as the sun rose over the horizon. Derek stirred slightly in bed before finally waking up. After a quick shower, he came out refreshed and ready.
In the dining room, Martha and Daisy were already setting the breakfast table, while Arthur had just taken his seat.
"Good morning, little one," Daisy greeted with a smile as Derek sat down.
"Eat properly today," Martha said gently while placing the dishes on the table. "You won’t find food like this once you’re there."
"Yes, I will," Derek replied cheerfully and began eating without hesitation.
As they ate, Arthur suddenly spoke. "Derek, after what I’ve seen from you these past few days, I don’t even know if there’s anything left for me to advise. Still... take care of yourself. No matter what anyone says, don’t let your spirit falter."
"Of course, brother," Derek replied with a small grin. "I won’t ever let my morale drop. You don’t need to worry."
He knew very well why Arthur was so concerned. ’If only I could tell them the truth... then they wouldn’t have to worry so much,’ Derek thought to himself.
Once breakfast was over, they finished their preparations and stepped outside.
They hired a wagon and set off toward Sword’s Heaven first as Derek needed to check whether his sword was ready before heading to the academy.
It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination.
When they stepped inside after reaching the shop, Ronald looked up and his mood dropped a little.
"Are you here for the sword?" he still asked in a neutral tone.
"Yes," Arthur replied before Derek could speak.
"Alright then. Follow me to Denvar," Ronald said, turning toward the stairs. Derek nodded and obediently followed behind him.
After descending, they walked for a short while until they reached the small hut where Denvar lived.
Ronald stepped ahead and knocked on the door. "Denvar! Are you there?" he called out.
Surprisingly, he didn’t even need to knock a second time. The door creaked open, and Denvar appeared.
"Is it ready, Mr. Denvar?" Derek asked eagerly.
"Come inside," Denvar said simply before turning and walking back into his hut.
Derek followed him in.
Inside, Denvar walked straight to the forge and picked up a sword that was still sheathed and had been leaning against the wall.
He returned to Derek and hurled it toward him. "Give it a try," he said.
Derek caught the sword carefully. For a few seconds, he just stared at it, a faint smile of satisfaction appearing on his face. Then he lifted it horizontally, gripping the hilt with his right hand while holding the sheath with his left.
With a sharp shclk, he unsheathed the sword.
The sword gleamed under the forge’s dim light..... a magnificent claymore forged from black metal with a sharp silver edge that shimmered faintly with every flicker of the flame. Its design looked simple yet elegant, exuding both strength and refinement. The blade was broad but perfectly balanced, neither too long nor too short, its size tailored exactly to Derek’s height and build. The weight was ideal, heavy enough to carry power yet light enough to move fluidly.
Derek gave it a few experimental swings.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Each swing whistled through the air.
A small smile spread across Derek’s face. ’Perfect,’ he thought.
"It will cost you ten gold coins," Denvar suddenly said, raising both hands and spreading all ten fingers to make his point clear.
"What? Are you planning to rob me? Or are you adding a fine for breaking the dummies last time? How can it be ten gold?" Derek asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Don’t be so stingy, you fool," Denvar snorted. "The material I used for your sword is very unique. It’s an alloy of mythril and dragon steel. Mythril is known for its durability and lightness. Since you’re not an Auran, you need something far sturdier to handle your strength. And dragon steel..." his eyes glinted with pride, "is a metal forged using magic with dragon fire. It gives the weapon the ability to expand or shrink in size. Not only that, it can also adjust its weight according to the strength of the wielder. So, what I gave you isn’t just a sword, it’s a treasure. Those ten gold coins I asked for? Consider yourself lucky. What you’re holding is worth far more than that."
"W... What?!" Derek was completely taken aback. "It can even change its shape and weight?"
He stared at the sword in astonishment, unable to tear his gaze away.
’I just wanted a sword like the one I had in my past life,’ he thought, awe filling his eyes. ’But this... this is even better. So good that I can’t even bring myself to compare.’
"So now you won’t have to come to me again for a bigger or heavier sword," Denvar said with a smirk. "It’ll grow along with your strength."
Derek stared at the sword for a few more moments before finally sheathing it. Then, lowering his head properly, he bowed to Denvar. "Mr. Denvar, I can never repay what you’ve done for me. I promise, I’ll help you defeat your brother," he said sincerely.
"Yes, don’t you dare forget that," Denvar replied, his tone half serious, half teasing. "And grow stronger quickly. Since you already know about my rivalry with my brother, you shouldn’t be unaware about who my brother forged his best sword for."
Hearing that, Derek’s face stiffened a little. "Yes... I know. But don’t worry, Mr. Denvar. Just give me three or four years, and I promise I’ll be ready."
With that, he stepped closer, took out ten gold coins from his pouch, and handed them to Denvar. "Here, Mr. Denvar."
Denvar accepted the coins without hesitation, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. ’I won’t have to worry about the supply of ale for at least the next two years,’ he thought inwardly, grinning to himself.