Chapter 251: The Use of Life

Entering Leonard’s office for the second time, Lutz found it as stark and devoid of personal touch as before.

“You seem to have been poking around about me.” 

Leonard’s sharp gaze, filled with dark intensity, was directed at Lutz.

The forcefulness of his gaze might have been enough to make an ordinary person faint on the spot, but at this moment, Lutz, proud of being the blacksmith who forged Leonard’s sword, responded with a firm attitude.

“Yes, it was necessary for sword-making.”

“You’re quite straightforward.” 

Leonard pulled the sword he had placed on the table towards himself and drew it. The silvery blade gleamed in the dim room. Ancient characters were engraved on the blade, emitting a faint light. The sight of the knight, once called the Grim Reaper, holding the sword vertically was somewhat surreal.

“It fits well in my hand. And I can swing it as freely as my own limbs. Are all swords like this?”

“This sword is special; it was made for ease of use.”

“Was magic applied to enhance concentration?”

“You’ve caught on…”

As Lutz was about to lower his head, the tip of the sword was pointed at him.

“Ease of use for the sword, with enhanced concentration. So, this is a weapon to prevent surprise attacks.”

“Yes.”

Lutz answered as if he didn’t see the white blade pointed at him.

“You’ve listened to my story, investigated my past, and this is your answer. Why did you make something like this?”

There was anger and confusion in his voice. Perhaps he felt insulted.

Lutz calmly shook his head.

“Because I wanted you to live.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

It was so matter-of-fact that Leonard began to feel foolish for directing his anger at him. He sighed heavily and sheathed the blade. Even the act of sheathing the sword was incredibly smooth.

“…What do you mean, telling me how to live like this?”

“Whether to live or die, that’s something you can only think about if you’re alive.”

Leonard fell silent and waited for Lutz to continue. Lutz nodded lightly and spoke again.

“There is no good or evil, no philosophy in a sword. In a sense, it’s just a tool, and everything depends on the one who uses it. And the blacksmith’s wish is for the owner to be satisfied, that’s all.”

“That’s also something only possible if you’re alive, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t like it. To be instructed on how to live by a mere blacksmith.”

“If you’re dissatisfied with that sword, I’ll forge a new one. I’ll take it back, though.”

Leonard lowered his gaze to the sword, then after a brief pause, he answered.

“It’s fine as it is.”

“Thank you.”

A flowing silence. Leonard drew the sword again and gazed at the blade as if desperately searching for something reflected in it.

“You investigated my past, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happened to my brother, the vice-captain?”

“…I don’t know.”

“I see.”

Leonard waved his hand lightly as if to dismiss him. Lutz stood up, bowed, and reached for the doorknob. At that moment, from behind him,

“Thank you,”

A murmured voice reached his ears.

What was the gratitude for? He wanted to ask, but it felt impolite to turn back now, so Lutz silently left the room.

The busy days in the capital came to an end, and Lutz and the others returned to the Count’s territory, regaining peace.

Lutz spent his days gathering iron sand, taking walks with the donkey, talking with visiting blacksmiths, planning his next work, and patting Claudia’s rear. And before he knew it, a month had passed.

One day, Josel visited the workshop with a letter in hand.

Was it another request from the Count to make a sword? Feeling like it was about time to start the next job after a month of rest, Lutz asked Josel, but he replied bluntly,

“It’s something else.”

And handed over the letter brusquely.

As Lutz took it, twisting his head in puzzlement, he found that it was a beautifully decorated letter.

“Who’s it from?”

“Marquis Eldenburger.”

The wax seal had been broken. Lutz felt a bit annoyed, thinking it had been censored, but upon reflection, it was strange for a mere blacksmith and a high noble like the marquis to be pen pals. It was only natural for the Count and his associates to be concerned about the contents. They had every right to seek profit and security.

Suppressing his frustration, Lutz received the letter.

He understood the dilemma that Josel and Gerhardt were facing from both sides. He couldn’t be callous enough to ignore it. At the very least, he didn’t intend to cause them suffering.

“It’s tough for you too, Josel.”

“Is that sarcasm?”

“I mean it sincerely.”

“I see. Then I’ll graciously accept that.”

Lutz opened the letter that had already been opened once. He skimmed through it, his eyes moving back and forth several times.

“Huh…?”

Lutz’s eyes stopped abruptly at one point.

It was a report of the death of Leonard, the commander of the Thirteenth Knight Order.

Slowly raising his head, Lutz saw Josel quietly shaking his head. It was news from Marquis Eldenburger, and it was unlikely to be a false report.

Lutz swallowed hard and began reading further.

Suddenly appearing were three giant orcs. Leonard stood against them to let the citizens escape, fought like a demon to cut down the orcs, and ended up in a life-and-death struggle with the last one.

…Was this your answer, Leonard? Your way of using life?

Would he have survived if he had been given a different sword? Or would something have changed if he had been told about the past battles with giant orcs?

No, that wasn’t it. It was the result of everyone doing their best with what they had. Thinking later, as someone who wasn’t there, that he might have been able to do something was simply arrogant.

“Were you close to Lord Leonard?”

Surprised by Lutz’s unexpectedly dark expression, Josel asked with a puzzled look.

“We only spoke directly twice. I went to the capital to hear about his sword and investigated his past in a village near the border. Hearing the news of someone like that feels more like a gaping hole of loss than sadness.”

Lutz tightly rolled up the parchment. He would probably never open it again.

“Thank you, huh…”

What was the gratitude for? He ended up missing the chance to ask.

But that was okay. Perhaps it was better that way.

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