Chapter 141: Guidance 

The spring weather receded, giving way to oppressive heat. The night was restless and uncomfortable.

On the third floor of Lutz’s workshop were two bedrooms. In the darkness, beads of sweat glistened on pale skin, tracing down breasts and flowing. With each labored breath, the ample bosom heaved.

Claudia gazed up at the unseen ceiling. It was somewhat embarrassing to look at Lutz’s face now, but she had gotten used to it.

“It might be a common sentiment after returning from a journey.”

Claudia said, catching her breath before continuing.

“Indeed, home is nice. It’s very calming.”

I returned the carriage to its owner. I also retrieved the donkey that was entrusted to the decorator, Patrick. Everything is back to how it was. Once the new sword is completed, I’ll have to set out on a journey again, but for now, I wanted to immerse myself in this tranquility without any concerns.

“It’s a good thing to have a place where you can feel at ease without worrying about anyone. Returning from a long expedition really made that clear,” 

Lutz agreed and nodded.

“Are you able to sleep now?”

He had asked to check if she wasn’t too affected by the consecutive humid days. But Claudia interpreted it differently. Well, it was more accurate to say that she had intentionally misunderstood it even though she understood everything.

“I might be able to sleep better when I’m a bit more tired.”

Twisting her naked body, she covered Lutz. The rich curves pressed against his chest, and the dynamic scene of her ample bosom changing shape as they compressed and expanded caused even Lutz, who was used to it, to catch his breath. No, he wouldn’t get used to the allure of this body.

Claudia confirmed the changes in her beloved man’s body with her slender fingers, a gesture that mixed amazement and joy, and smiled.

“Lutz-kun, you really do like me, don’t you?”

Using her little finger, she brushed aside her hair near her ear and sealed off any possible retort with a kiss.

Generally, it was said that men were worse at lying than women, and a significant part of that might be attributed to the physical aspect.

A few days past the promised date, Gerhardt visited Lutz’s workshop.

“After pondering various possibilities, I’ve decided to enchant the ‘Breaking Illusion(Hagen)’ spell on it.”

Lutz looked puzzled at the unfamiliar term. Gerhardt nodded in understanding and continued.

“You might not have heard of it, but I knew about it. However, I had no idea how to arrange the ancient characters specifically. I combed through the castle’s ancient documents to no avail, and I even trespassed into the archives of fellow craftsmen’s workshops three times before finally finding the text I was looking for.”

“…Gerhardt-san, won’t you be stabbed in the back sooner or later?”

“I’ll just defeat them if that happens. Half-jokingly, they want to curry favor with my boss. They consider this as doing a favor, so to speak. Well, I’ll have to prioritize a few tasks but…”

“What can I say, You seem strong.”

“Surviving within the framework of the Artisan Guild is a tough endeavor in itself.”

Although he nodded with a triumphant expression, he was the one who had caused the commotion.

“Breaking Illusion(Hagen)’ is a spell that dispels illusions, as the name suggests. But it was never really used, and it was almost lost.

“Why is that? Because it had no practical use,”

“Not that it wasn’t used, but it had no practical applications?”

Lutz inquired. Gerhardt chuckled with a smirk. He didn’t dislike teaching young ones and felt a slight sense of superiority upon confirming that he was more knowledgeable in this regard than Lutz, who possessed a high level of skill in blacksmithing.

“What’s needed first to break illusion magic? It’s a bit like a mean quiz question, but it’s the opponent who uses illusion magic.”

“I guess there aren’t many people who do that.”

“To create a sword with the power to create illusions around its surroundings, you’d need an extraordinary weapon, often referred to as a masterpiece, along with a substantial amount of gems. What are the odds of encountering someone carrying such items and becoming enemies by chance? I doubt there’s anyone out there foolish enough to carry around a sword enchanted with dispelling magic in preparation for that day.”

“If magic swords were available for purchase, people would want to carry versatile weapons, right? Improvements in sharpness or reduction in weight, for example.”

“Given the existence of such enchantments, it’s not like they were never used. I think it was used in scenarios like a duel where you could anticipate to some extent what the opponent would do, like in this case.”

Gerhardt spoke, reminiscing about history.

“I understand your explanation. So, for the enchantment, should I forge any kind of sword?”

“That’s the idea. Although it might be a bit abstract for a request, I apologize…”

“It’s fine, please tell me. We can think about whether it’s possible later.”

“A sword that puts you in good spirit.”

“Good spirit?”

It was a truly abstract request, unrelated to discussions of length, weight, or shape. But at this point, Lutz couldn’t say that he couldn’t do it.

“To break illusions, it’s not as simple as just enchanting the weapon with magic. A strong heart in the owner is necessary – an unyielding will that cannot be swayed by illusions.”

“So, essentially, you grasp it tightly and shout, and the illusions scatter, right?”

Lutz’s vocabulary had been depleted by his worry, but Gerhardt managed to interpret his meaning and confirmed it with a smile. Probably, it should be right.

“Then, please help me with it.”

Even after Gerhardt left, Lutz sat down, his arms folded, and twisted his neck.

“A sword that improves one’s spirit… what does that mean?”

Later, Lutz visited Patrick’s workshop. He had come to express his gratitude for taking care of the donkey during his long journey, discuss matters related to the sword, and make a new work request.

In the event that Melty won the duel and became the new chieft, the sword being crafted this time would likely become her ceremonial sword. Since it would symbolize the new chief, it couldn’t just be the usual plain black, and it had to have an impressive appearance.

“What kind of woman is this Melty-san?”

Patrick asked, wanting to create decorations that matched her image.

“She’s a silver-haired, cool, busty female swordsman with a ponytail.”

After speaking those words, Lutz regretted it, feeling that Patrick’s way of speaking might have rubbed off on him recently. Although it wasn’t necessarily thanks to Patrick, his explanation got across clearly, and Patrick’s eyes gleamed as he leaned forward.

“Nice! How old is she?”

“In her mid-twenties, I guess.”

“Unbearable!”

“Unbearable?”

Lutz couldn’t fathom what had struck a chord with Patrick, but his creative passion seemed to overflow, and that was a good thing.

Creative passion – that was what Lutz envied more than anything else right now.

“So, Patrick-san, about creating a sword that puts you in good spirit…”

“That’s easy, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

Lutz was taken aback by Patrick’s incredibly casual response.

“You just need to make something good. After all, a weapon is ultimately nothing more than a mirror reflecting a person’s heart. Just forge a top-notch sword that can embrace Melty-san’s desire to save the village. No need for any clumsy tricks.”

“So, you mean there’s no need for unnecessary embellishments?”

“Exactly.”

Patrick nodded with a smile.

Right now, Melty herself must be the most spirited one. If that’s the case, there’s no need for him to inject his spirit into it, or to assist in injecting spirit.

The sword doesn’t guide people; it’s supposed to be a partner for walking the path you believe in.

…I might have been a bit arrogant. It’s not about solving problems with my sword; it’s about assisting Melty-san in solving them. That’s what being a swordsmith is all about, yeah.

While reflecting on this, Lutz felt a refreshing sense of clarity.

“Thank you, Patrick-san. Thanks to you, I’ve realized something. Please continue to guide me from now on.”

With a deeply exaggerated bow, Lutz left for his own battlefield. Patrick watched his departure with a smile, finding it endearing that he was so young.

“If I were the one guiding, he’d definitely get lost.”

Patrick’s muttered words were filled with goodwill toward the young blacksmith.

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