The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 27

The sword slid soundlessly from its sheath to reveal the flat blade.

I couldn’t help but swallow back a lump of air as I fell into a trance, staring at the weapon much too beautiful to be considered an ordinary weapon.

The narrow blade was straight and thin like a rapier’s but had a double edge, making it fit for slashing as well as thrusting. As the keen edge of the blade curved smoothly into a sharp tip, I couldn’t help but notice that there were no markings—that the blade had been sharpened. The weight and balance of the sword was a bit off in my opinion but it was still much better than the crude tools I had picked up before. However, even this flaw was overshadowed by the breathtaking quality and color of the blade.

The translucent teal hue of the blade seemed to almost generate a luster of its own, even inside the dim storage room. There was a stark contrast to the matte-black scabbard and handle, making the color of the blade all the more radiant. Despite the fact that the blade was so narrow and thin, a few tests on a nearby iron container confirmed its durability and strength.

I could say with confidence that, even in my old world, there wasn’t a blade as well-forged as this. Was this sword truly meant for beast tamers or was its criteria even more particular? I thought as I looked down at Sylvie.

Titling her tiny head, Sylvie let out a happy chirp in response.

Studying the blade more closely, I spotted a small engraving inscribed on the blade near the grip.

Dawn’s Ballad W.K. IV

As soon as those words left my lips, a searing pain abruptly shot out from where I was gripping the sword, making me drop the weapon.

There was a gash that had already been cauterized across my palm. I was hesitant to pick the sword back up again, but when I did, I could see the faint remains of my blood getting absorbed into the handle of the blade.

"Kuu!" Are you okay, Papa? Sylvie trotted next to me, pawing my leg, concerned.

I’m fine, Sylv. After scratching the underside of my bond’s chin, I gave the sword another swing. This time, the point of balance of the sword aligned perfectly to match with my undeveloped body. Even the handle of the blade seemed to have grown smaller to fit in my hand, as if it was made for me.

There were some extraordinarily valuable staffs and wands that had the ability to bond with a single user, allowing better manipulation of mana between the weapon and master, but I’d never heard of a sword doing something like this.

Picking up the sword, I pondered over the man, whose initial was "W.K. IV." Who was this person and how was he capable of forging such a sword?

I realized how much time had passed as my father’s faint voice snapped me out of infatuated trance. Quickly sheathing my new sword, I made my way back to where my father was, Sylvie hitching a ride on top of my head. On the way back, I made sure to pick up the short sword I chose for back up.

"Well? Did you see anything you liked?" Vincent, who had been talking with my father, asked.

I nodded, holding up the short sword to him, "I found this sword and, after a few swings, I’ve grown to like it. Is it okay for me to take this one?"

Vincent took the weapon from my hand, drawing the sword from its scabbard. "Hmmm, not the best quality sword but it is solid and won’t break easily. Rey, what do you think?"

My father accepted the sword, studying its blade, grip and guard before taking a several swings and thrusts. "The balance isn’t the best but I think it’ll be good as a first sword. What’s that stick you’re holding onto, though?"

Trying not to make a big deal out of it, I gave casual shrug. "I tripped over this really sturdy stick on my way back here. Do you mind if I take this back home to practice with, Uncle Vincent?"

"Ah that old thing! I remember one of my merchants telling me how some senile old man just handed it to him, mumbling something about finding a worthy master. We had a few of our inspectors check if there was anything special about it, but for all they were able to find out, it was just a sturdy, hard cane. It’s been gathering dust here so if you think it’ll do you some good, go ahead and take it," Vincent answered, lightly squeezing my shoulder.

Success.

****Kingdom of Elenoir****

TESSIA ERALITH’S POV:

"Haaaaaaaaaaa...." I let out an exaggerated sigh, looking out the window from my room. My hands were getting numb from leaning my head on it for so long, but I didn’t want to move as I only grew more annoyed.

How dare he! Stupid Art!

Finally willing myself to get up, I let out my pent up frustration by kicking the wall.

"Ouch!"

Stupid Art! This is his fault too!

Cradling my aching foot, I wiped the tears that had welled up in my eyes, unsure of whether it was from the pain of my foot or my loneliness.

I had just gotten back from Grandma Rinia’s home. It was hard, but I was finally able to guilt-trip her into letting me spy—I mean, make sure that Art was doing okay.

I should be happy that he’s with his family and everything... but doesn’t he miss me?

He looked too happy! And who’s that girl? Wasn’t Art acting a little too nice to her? That cunning girl even got Art to teach her how to manipulate mana!

He never taught me!

That Arthur... When I get my hands on him, I’m going to give him a piece of my...haa... who am I kidding, I just want to see him.

It’d been a few months since he had left but after getting so used to seeing him every day, those months had felt like years.

"Maybe I should’ve treated him more nicely while he was here," I muttered aloud.

I couldn’t help but cringe remembering all of the times I had physically abused him, just as an excuse to touch him.

But that wasn’t my fault! It’s his fault for being such a thickheaded idiot!

Mama and Papa were quite proud that Feyrith, the noble brat who messed with Art, and his sister were able to place in the top five during the trial competition that they had with the humans, but I couldn’t care less. It was just a show to boast our strength to the humans and dwarves anyway.

Grandpa had mentioned that the actual Continental Tournament—which was what the humans decided to call it—would happen every five years from now on. Did that mean I would have to wait five years to see Art? Five whole years?

"Uuu...." This sucked. The only thing that kept my mind off of Art was training. My goal was to become stronger than Arthur. The next time we meet, I wanted to surprise him by how much I’d grown. Maybe then he’d see me in a different light.

Stupid Arthur, I repeated. Even though he was younger than me, he still treated me like a kid.

Even though I’m the older one...

I held up the water-filled orb that Granny Rinia gave to me as a present. She was able to capture a scene and integrate it into the orb so that it would constantly show an image of Arthur’s face.

"Dummy!" I cursed at the bubble, poking the sphere where the image of Arthur’s cheek was.

Suddenly, the door flung open. "Young one, I have good—"

"Grandpa! What did I say about knocking?!" I squealed, quickly trying to hide the orb behind me. However, by the sly grin on his face, I knew that he had already noticed.

"I see you’re using that orb well," he snickered as his usual, stern expression was replaced by that of a wily fox.

"Stupid Grandpa!" I reached for my pillow nearby and flung it at him before he could see how red my face had turned.

"Don’t mind, don’t mind! I would rather enjoy having Arthur as a grandson-in-law, anyhow! But isn’t it a little too early for that now?" He roared out in laughter as he continued teasing me.

Whipping my head away from Grandpa, I did my best to hide my embarrassment, unable to let out anything other than a frustrated grumble in response to his ridicule.