■ Revenge Match □
I went to the dwarf blacksmith working at the Demon King’s Castle and melted Stormbringer entirely in the furnace.
「Ghhhaaaa! I’ll curse you even after death! Huuumaan nooooom!」
“Wow. Doppler effect.”
The guy’s final dying words were vivid, but since I probably wouldn’t hear this voice again, I just let it pass through one ear and out the other.
No matter how much that thing was a cursed sword, as long as it was made of metal, it would end with just one bath in the smelting furnace.
Thus, Stormbringer, which had barely escaped from the treasure vault, turned into a cute lump of orichalcum an hour after its escape.
“How would you like me to make it?”
“Make the gauntlets first, and if there are leftover materials, make knuckles.”
“That much can be done with an alloy. I’ll make it dazzling for you.”
This dwarf, likely due to their extensive experience, seemed to have a good grasp on what the customer needs.
Anyway, A week later—
The refined lump of orichalcum in the hands of the dwarf artisan who worked at the Demon King’s Castle became the material for a superhard alloy mixed with tungsten carbide and cobalt, and was reborn as a pair of gauntlets and knuckles.
Though the sword had an arrogant personality, its name carried enough prestige, so I decided to slightly modify the name “Stormbringer” and call it “Stormbringer.”
The tiger leaves its skin when it dies, and the cursed sword leaves its name behind.
Thank you, Stormbringer…! The Demon King perhaps showed consideration for my return from a month-long business trip because he didn’t interfere at all during the week it took to create the new weapon in the forge.
Thanks to that, I spent the entire week resting well, eating well, and playing well.
Although there aren’t many forms of entertainment in this era, it’s not like there’s absolutely nothing.
For example, the trading card game ‘Race War’ I played at the tavern last time is literally a folk game spanning the entire continent, so when you say to someone you’ve never met before, “Hey, let’s fight,” they mutter, “Guess I have no choice,” and immediately accept the challenge.
And that goes for demons too, so I wandered around looking for stronger people to fight as a warrior whenever I had free time.
…Until I got thoroughly beaten by the Demon King’s demon tribe beat deck.
It seems smart people are also good at games.
Anyway, while enjoying this rare leisure time, holed up in the Demon King’s Castle wasting time, suddenly the Demon King’s daughter, Ozma, came to see me.
“Teach me a lesson.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you intentionally went easy on me when we fought at the training ground last time. So this time, I want you to fight with all your might. I’ve become quite strong since then.”
Saying that, Ozma bowed deeply without hesitation.
Perplexed, I looked at Camilla beside me.
But she shook her head, indicating she couldn’t help either.
‘This is going to get messy.’
There isn’t any subordinate who can fight seriously against their boss’s daughter.
On the other hand, if I hold back and lose deliberately, she’ll likely request another duel, dissatisfied with today’s outcome.
It’s truly a catch-22 situation.
As if reading my troubled expression, Ozma slightly raised her head and said to me,
“My father has promised not to hold you responsible if I get injured during this sparring match. Also, I’m not doing this merely out of competitiveness; I want to test my limits before an important event coming up soon.”
“An important event?”
“The annual exchange meeting among the Demon Tribe. There’s a man there I must defeat.”
Her determined gaze suggested she would stick to me until the end, no matter how much I refused.
Eventually, there was no option to decline, so I sighed softly and nodded.
“Understood. Then, I’ll see you at the training ground in an hour.”
Defeated by Ozma’s persistence, I changed into more comfortable clothing and headed to the training ground in the courtyard of the Demon King’s Castle.
Because it’s winter, the space that should normally be filled with soldiers was unusually empty.
Walking past a group of Death Knights filming slash movies under the guise of practicing, I approached the center of the training ground, where Ozma and Barnett were already waiting.
I gave a nod to Barnett and asked Ozma, dressed in a white shirt, leather jacket, and leather pants,
“Did you wait long?”
“No, I just arrived. I believe it’s impolite to be late for an appointment.”
As she said that and glanced at Barnett standing beside her, Barnett nodded and handed over a long staff she was holding to Ozma.
It was a weapon I’d never seen before.
Curious, I stared at it carefully, and Ozma, attaching it to her waist, said,
“It’s a weapon I recently managed to acquire. It may look simple, but it’s quite demanding to handle. Normally, I leave its maintenance to Barnett.”
“I see.”
I already knew that Barnett, the captain of the Demon King’s royal guard, acted as Ozma’s adjutant or nanny when she had free time, so it wasn’t particularly surprising.
Then Ozma asked me,
“Are these gauntlets on both your hands the new weapons you recently made?”
“Yes, they’re called Stormbringer.”
Saying that, I subtly showed off the white gauntlets on both my hands.
A masterpiece born just yesterday from the hands of the dwarf blacksmith, they clearly looked incredibly sturdy.
In reality, the hardness of tungsten carbide used as the alloy material ranks just below diamond, making them extremely durable.
Moreover, about 50% of rare metal orichalcum, known for its high mana compatibility, was mixed in, so naturally, it ended up being an OP item.
Top-tier as a medium for magic.
While the gauntlets themselves don’t have any special additional abilities, they won’t break even if an elephant steps on them.
Upon hearing this explanation, Ozma instead seemed relieved.
“In that case, I can unleash all-out attacks without worrying about causing injuries.”
“But if I fail to block them properly, you might get sliced.”
“Don’t be modest. I know your skills well.”
Ozma dismissed my words as mere formalities and chuckled as she grabbed the staff attached to her waist.
…This could go wrong and lead us down the path to the afterlife.
“Shall we start the sparring match then?”
“Ah, just a moment.”
I stopped Ozma mid-step and asked Barnett, who was acting as the referee,
“Is it okay to destroy the training ground to any extent?”
Barnett frowned and countered,
“Why is destruction assumed as a given?”
“Well, there should still be some limits, right? I’ll take those into account as much as possible.”
Barnett hesitated and looked around the training ground.
“As long as it’s flat ground, you can dig it up as much as you want. But buildings and castle walls must remain unharmed. You don’t want Seneca-san reprimanding you in various ways.”
Okay. That means excessively powerful magic is prohibited.
Having understood the conditions, I decided to focus mainly on martial arts rather than magic for this battle.
Anyway, it’s about time to test the performance of Stormbringer, which was just released yesterday.
From that perspective, Ozma, who’s a typical front-line fighter type, will make a good practice opponent.
“Swiiiiip…”
I take a deep breath.
The mana dispersed in the air is absorbed into my body along with oxygen.
When this happens, the power source, mana, is supplied to the virtual magic circuits inside my body, and the magic circuits convert this mana into the most fundamental units of nature: the four great elements.
Based on the wind element converted within the magic circuits, I effortlessly activated the quadra spell, Whirlwind Cutlass.
Originally created to assist mages, whose physical strength inevitably weakens due to their constant immersion in research, this medical magic has now transformed into an excellent lethal spell.
Well, it’s common for the intended design and actual usage to differ.
“…So you’re starting like this?”
Seeing that I began with the Whirlwind Cutlass wrapped around me from the start, unlike last time, Ozma muttered with unhidden competitiveness.
At this point, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
I remember standing in this exact position with her when we first met.
“Both participants, please prepare.”
Barnett, volunteering as the referee, held flags in both hands and raised them above her head.
Finally,
“Begin the sparring!”
The moment the flags were forcefully swung downward, Ozma drew the wooden staff she had been carrying at her waist.
I was curious about the true identity of this weapon anyway.
As my gaze naturally fell on it, intrigued by its unfamiliar appearance here, Ozma chuckled meaningfully and said,
“This is a weapon imported from the distant Dwarf Kingdom of Nídavellir. The dwarf craftsman who made this, Nakamura, was apparently known for only forging peculiarly shaped swords his entire life.”
“…A sword?”
“Yeah, it’s a sword. More precisely, a katana.”
Click—
What I thought was a simple wooden staff turned out to be just the hilt and scabbard without a crossguard.
The plain-looking scabbard fell to the training ground floor, and Ozma took her stance holding the pitch-black blade of the Japanese sword in both hands, muttering,
“Cry— Blade of Hellfire Slaughter…”
