I Was a Sword When I Reincarnated (LN) - Volume 13 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Return to the Pedestal

THE DILAPIDATED RUINS were located in the center of the Demon Wolf’s Garden. Years of wind and rain had weathered it, staining its once-pristine stone. Moss and weeds had overwhelmed the evenly spaced structures, those mysterious ruins whose purpose was unknown to this day. At the center of it all was a circular plaza.

“Is that the pedestal you were talking about?”

Yeah, but…something’s not quite right here.

“What do you mean?”

Well, the pedestal itself is missing.

The pedestal, the home where I first awakened, was nowhere to be found.

Fran pointed to various objects in the ruins, asking me if they were the pedestal I was talking about, but none of them were right.

What remained of the pedestal was a patch of land in the center of the plaza untouched by weeds. Something had been removed from that spot recently, and—looking from above—one could definitely tell that was where the pedestal used to be. Grass was beginning to sprout there now, taking the place that pedestal had occupied until a few months ago.

Let’s take a closer look.

“Hm.”

“Woof!”

We landed on the spot where the pedestal used to be. Fran tapped the stone pavement while Jet sniffed out the ground. There was nothing strange about the place so far.

It’s not here…

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Yeah. I’ll never forget this place as long as I live.

Suddenly, Fran and Jet disappeared as my surroundings turned white. I was in the white space again. It didn’t take me by surprise. No, I was getting used to this by now.

You’re here.

I am.

The same familiar voice of the man greeted me.

I don’t see the pedestal anywhere, though. What happened to it?

The sacred vessel was hidden away after it had completed its task. But I suppose we will be needing it again. Tell Fran and Jet to back away. I’ll materialize the pedestal.

Sacred vessel, huh? I knew that the thing was no ordinary pedestal!

I somehow consented to the man’s request and, before I knew it, the world around me had returned. Fran and Jet were oblivious to what just happened to me, but I told them to back off from the empty space.

Fran looked puzzled, but said, “Okay.”

“Woof.”

They took a few steps back and the pedestal started to come into existence. There was static around it like an old television as it materialized, and its transparent form made it look like a hologram in a sci-fi movie. A surge of mana ran through the pedestal before finally becoming a solid object.

It was as if the pedestal had emerged from the land itself instead of being transported from some other place. The strange surge of mana had had brought it here had come from the ground, after all. Wherever it had come from, though, one thing was certain: this was the pedestal I called home.

Here it is. No doubt about it. The pedestal… My pedestal.

Only a few months had passed, but I was feeling very nostalgic. If I had tear ducts, I’d be crying right now.

“So, this is your house?”

I wouldn’t really call it a house. More like a one-bedroom apartment.

“What now?” Fran asked.

Her question was answered by a deep voice which came from behind us. “Fran, put the sword—Teacher—into the pedestal.”

“Who are you?”

Fran turned around to see a man with slicked-back silver hair. A dandy with casual attire. He was somewhat see-through, like a ghost. This was her first meeting with the man, but I recognized him at first glance.

“You’ll know soon enough. But you need to put Teacher in the pedestal.”

Fran gazed suspiciously at this mystery man who knew her name. He didn’t look like the most trustworthy character, to be sure.

Still, he continued gently, “You don’t know me, but I know you. I’ve been watching you from within Teacher all this time.”

“Within Teacher?”

He’s right.

Although we didn’t use Essence of Falsehood, we knew that he wasn’t lying. That wasn’t quite the same as saying we trusted him, admittedly, but it was something. His diction was of a man who didn’t have to worry about being caught in a lie.

I felt an odd connection with this man, somehow. Nothing vague like fate or destiny but something more concrete. It was as if we were attached to each other. I didn’t know if our mana connection could qualify as “concrete,” but it certainly felt like it.

It’ll be all right, Fran. Put me in the pedestal.

“Fine…” Fran approached the pedestal after I reassured her.

Can you reach it?

“Yeah, no problem.”

Fran switched me to her other hand and plunged me in the pedestal. A warmth—no, a fire—engulfed my blade, then. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t a burning fire which felt like it would melt my blade. This fire was relaxing, like bathing in a hot spring. I’d felt a similar sensation when Aristea was fixing me.

“Are you okay, Teacher?”

Okay? I feel fantastic!

“Good,” Fran sighed with relief, assured nothing was wrong with me after hearing my voice. As nostalgic as this place was for me, it was still foreign ground for her. She couldn’t help but worry.

“Everything is ready now,” the man said as he walked to the pedestal.

“Ready for what?”

“For the reinforcement of Teacher’s seal.”

My seal?

“Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to you today, or at least what I am permitted to tell. You’ll be much more stable now that you’re in the pedestal. You shouldn’t have any problems with your memories, either.”

Memories? 

“Memories?” Fran and I said in unison. What was he talking about?

“Yes. To put it simply, the seal on your memories might be coming undone.”

“And that’s bad?”

“It would be the worst thing that could happen to him. I’ll explain that in due time, also. Just know that the door to his memories is stabilized when he’s in the pedestal.”

So someone really had sealed away my memories…for my own good, by the sound of it.

“I’ll start with telling you who I am.”

“Okay.”

Go for it.

The man snapped his fingers and created a simple chair out of the earth. He wasn’t using his own powers, per se. He was using my Land Magic and my mana. No—perhaps it would be better to call it our mana. Whatever powers I had were also his.

“It’s going to take a while, so have a seat. Fortunately, monsters don’t like coming to these ruins.”

“Hm.”

“Feel free to lie down, Jet.”

“Woof.” Jet obeyed him like a housecat. He understood that the man was above him in the hierarchy. Perhaps he treated the man like his master because of his connection with me.

“Now. Please, allow me to introduce myself.”

“Hm.”

Finally. I watched the man’s face, my non-existent heart thumping in my chest. A good-looking face with a rugged and wild look. Stop! What am I thinking?

Was this the suspension bridge effect? Was I mistaking anxiety for attraction?

Teacher?

I was freaking out too much. I needed to pay attention!

“My name is Fenrir. I am the former Godbeast who, having consumed the Evil One, became a Fiendbeast. I’m also the tenant currently sealed in your soul.”

Fran and I were shocked by this introduction. I’d known there was a chance he was Fenrir, but that didn’t make the confirmation less surprising. I was so shocked I thought I might shout out loud.

“Fenrir? The S-Threat monster?”

“The very same.”

I knew it…

“Looks like you’ve had this hunch for a while, Teacher. I was going to tell you sooner, but things didn’t go as planned.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll get to it soon enough. First, let me tell you about myself.”

His name was Fenrir. This human guise was simply a means of communicating with us—his real form was that of a giant wolf standing over a hundred meters tall. He didn’t give us his specific measurements, of course, but he boasted that he could kill an Invisible Death with a single bite so, y’know. I extrapolated a bit.

“A long time ago, I was once called the Godbeast.”

Does that make you related to the gods somehow? Or did you just call yourself that?

“Calling myself the Godbeast would be kind of embarrassing, don’t you think?” Fenrir said with a wry smile.

So…

“You’re right. My master is one of the Ten Great Gods, the Goddess of the Silver Moon.”

I see.

I then recalled my conversation with Forlund. Forlund’s Extra Skill, Beloved of the Sword God, allowed him to analyze enchanted swords and make copies of them. He told me that he saw a strange sight when he analyzed me.

A man thought to be me was conversing with women thought to be servants of the gods. One of the maidens had the emblem of the Goddess of the Silver Moon about her person. The scene definitely had something to do with my reincarnation.

“I was tasked by the gods to devour the pieces of the Evil One and purify them. That was why I was born with the ability to absorb the powers of those I consumed.”

Which would be the source of my own crystal absorbing powers. If I was hearing him right, Fenrir was apparently birthed by the gods themselves.

Does that mean you’re a direct servant of the gods?

“Yes. I could hardly call myself the Godbeast otherwise. On the first day I descended to this earth, I defeated a piece of the Evil One and devoured it.”

I’m surprised you could find one so easily.

I’d thought the Evil One’s fragments roamed the lands in the past, but this was not so.

“Fools yearning for power broke the seal. I was originally created in order to defeat that piece of the Evil One.”

Afterwards, Fenrir found places with comparatively weaker seals on the pieces and defeated them, too. He now had four pieces of the Evil One in total, including the first. Fitting for the wolf called the Fiend-Devouring Godbeast.

The people venerated Fenrir as the mouthpiece, messenger, and beast of the gods. The Godbeast’s veneration rivaled that of the gods themselves. But the people abandoned their faith after Fenrir went berserk and started attacking them.

“The Evil One’s conviction is far greater than the gods had expected. I couldn’t purify his Malice, but was corrupted myself.”

There were no side effects when Fenrir ate the first piece of the Evil One.

“But those side effects, I suspect, were always there. My physical appetite increased, as did my lust for destruction. These appetites drove me to find more pieces so I could purify them faster.”

In the end, Fenrir could no longer resist the Evil One’s whispers to ‘destroy everything,’ and he went berserk. Death and destruction, far beyond the breaking of the seal of a piece of the Evil One, descended upon Jillbird. Several nations were destroyed, affecting millions of lives.

Things would’ve been worse if he had lost complete control, but he managed to retain some of his reason.

“I was lost in a cycle of resistance and destruction.” He paused. “Do you remember the lich you fought at the sky isle? I was a lot like him at the time.”

The lich’s grudge and personality had fought for control of his body. When one side of him was asleep, the other was awake. The same thing happened with Fenrir and his corrupted self.

“When I finally managed to take control of myself, I used the last of my energy to come here. The Withering Forest didn’t exist back then.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The gods created it for me to prevent the pieces of the Evil One within me from getting out.”

Wait…so that means…!

“The pieces of the Evil One are sealed away here. Four of them fused together, to be exact. Quite powerful ones, too…”

We were so shocked at this that Fran, Jet, and I couldn’t help but look at the ground beneath us.

The man didn’t seem to judge our shock. “I know how you feel, but we’ll be all right. The seal upon this place is still strong.”

Are you sure?

“Yes.”

Good… I’d been worried that this was all because the seal inside me was weakening, but it looked like he wasn’t about to tell us that the Evil One’s seal was falling apart.

They say that the Evil One was torn apart and sealed away. How’d that happen?

“Good question. The gods were the ones responsible for that.”

“So they made it after the fact?”

“That’s right.”

Fenrir didn’t have a particular goal in mind when he came to this location. He was only looking for a place with no people or animals for him to harm.

“A Godbeast cannot kill itself. This is the truth of all messengers of the gods.” And so, Fenrir had searched for a place where he could do no harm. “It was too difficult for the gods to separate the pieces of the Evil One I had consumed. And then a human showed up.”

“A human?”

A task too difficult for the gods? What could this human possibly do about it?

“A Godsmith named Elmera. Her Godsword Cherubim was deemed too dangerous by the gods, so she roamed the lands looking for a place to dispose of it.”

Then I understood. A Godsmith would be able to help Fenrir’s situation. And the fact that it was Elmera made me pay close attention to whatever he had to say next.

The Godsmith Elmera. Creator of Cherubim…

Meaning she was the one who’d created the sword part of me. It was strange, now that I thought about it. I recognized myself primarily as a sword despite being formerly human. My memories of my time as a human were quite strong when I first came to this world, but after living as a sword, I’d kind of gotten used to it. Elmera was my creator; I didn’t think of her as a parent, but that was the closest word that could describe it.

“Elmera.”

“That’s right,” he said. “You know, when she and I met, we almost ended up killing one another.”

Wait, what?

“You fought her?”

“Yes. Elmera came to the plains after hearing rumors about my presence.”

That made sense. She wouldn’t have met Fenrir by accident.

“If Cherubim was going to be discarded, she might as well use its full power to defeat the rabid Fenrir,” Fenrir said. “At least, that’s what I believe she thought.”

How did she end up helping you?

“I was still fighting for control back then. I didn’t care if she killed me. But the gods saved me at the behest of the Goddess of the Silver Moon.”

They called upon Elmera and tasked her with aiding Fenrir. She accepted the task.

“It was a divine order, after all. But I think she was just happy Cherubim would have a chance to continue to exist.”

Elmera was a Godsmith like Aristea. She didn’t want her Godswords to be destroyed.

In order to save Fenrir, his soul needed to be separated from that of the Evil One. The gods devised a plan to pull it free while leaving the Evil One’s soul trapped within Fenrir’s physical body.

“But they would need somewhere to store my soul. A dismembered soul would lose much of its life force.”

Without a vessel, Fenrir’s soul wouldn’t last very long. The Godsword Cherubim was chosen to become his vessel.

“My body lies deep beneath the garden, sealed together with the Evil One. My soul was meant to sleep within the discarded Godsword.”

And so the Fiendbeast Fenrir was no more, and Jillbird was saved.

But that wasn’t happily ever after.

“Indeed?”

Of course not. I’m not in the picture yet. There has to be more.

I wouldn’t have needed to be reincarnated if everything had worked out perfectly. I now knew for certain that my reincarnation was no coincidence.

“You’re right. Although it is happily ever after for my original body. The gods sealed it away and erected a barrier around it.”

“A barrier?” Fran asked.

The Withering Forest?

“And the sky over it. They were made to be the first line of defense in the event of the Evil One’s return. They also drain the mana of everything around it, meaning that the Evil One is being constantly purified as he sleeps beneath these ruins. Little by little, it weakens him.”

The barrier was the reason for the distribution of monsters in the Demon Wolf’s Garden. The Withering Forest also assisted in the accumulation of mana in the Garden, making it a fruitful place for monsters to multiply. The gods then used their crystals to aid the purification process.

Monsters could procreate, but they could also spawn from mana that had grown stagnant. In the latter case, crystals first appeared in the wild, followed by monsters that formed around them. But the crystals of creatures born from excess mana would’ve been drained by the divine barrier beforehand, thereby creating weaker monsters. The barrier was stronger the closer you got to the ruins, which was why the monsters near the center of the Garden were significantly weaker compared to those at the outer rim. Meanwhile, the monsters born from natural processes could feel their mana being sapped when they approached the ruins, causing them to flee.

“Will Jet be okay?” asked Fran.

“He’ll be all right. The Withering Forest drains mana from everything inside it, but the Garden chooses its victims.”

Jet was safe from the barrier’s effects because my mana was registered here. The gods really did think of everything.

“The pieces of the Evil One inside my body are purified daily by the mana collected in the barrier. No problems there. The real problem lies with my soul.”

“Why’s that?”

“Put simply, my soul couldn’t be completely separated from the Evil One.”

The gods had originally intended to seal Fenrir’s soul within Cherubim and purify the Evil One’s power over him over thousands (if not tens of thousands) of years. But the Evil One’s corruption ran deeper than they expected, and Fenrir’s soul would only erode as time went on.

That’s rough. Honestly, it sounds…terrible.

“You don’t know the half of it. I was in quite the state at the time. Godswords are created to battle the pieces of the Evil One. The blade was meant to protect me as long as I remained sealed within it, but…” Fenrir paused. “The Evil One’s powers were far too strong. I suppose having four pieces of him inside of you can do that.”

The gods couldn’t just sit there and wait, so they focused on Fenrir’s ability to take on the powers of whatever he ate. With it, powerful monsters could be consumed to heal his soul.

Except Fenrir wasn’t corporeal, so how could he eat? That’s when they came up with their plan to fuse Fenrir’s soul to the sword. Whatever the sword cut down would go into recovering his soul.

Why couldn’t the gods just heal your soul themselves?

“I am only a vassal of the gods, and thus do not comprehend all of their ways…but they are gods bound by rules. They cannot freely intervene in the world below.”

Made sense. The gods only wielded their powers to the extent permitted by their laws. Otherwise, the world would be at the mercy of godly whims at all times.

“Some of the gods banded together to make the basis of what was to become you: a sword which could absorb crystals to heal me.”

“What about the user?”

“Who knows? I’m sure the gods had someone in mind, but there was a problem they had to overcome.”

“What problem?”

“The Evil One. Even if they completed my restoration, it wasn’t as if his powers would suddenly be weakened. The corruption would continue, and eventually, no one would be able to wield the sword.”

“Right.”

So how’d they solve that problem?

Fenrir chuckled at my question. He wasn’t making fun of me, but he had a mischievous smile on his face.

“You. That’s how.”

Uhhh. Me?

“What do you mean by that?”

“What do you think is the most dangerous of the Evil One’s powers?”

“Umm…”

His most dangerous power…

His very existence was dangerous enough, wasn’t it?

“His ferocity in battle?” he continued. “His tenacity? The Fiends he creates? No. The most terrifying of all the Evil One’s powers is his dominion over others.”

The gods had some degree of control over all their vassals. The Goddess of Chaos had dominion over the creatures of the dungeon. The Beast God had dominion over beastmen, beasts, and insects. While not absolute, these dominions were very difficult to resist.

I’m amazed they don’t have absolute control over their vassals. You can resist them?

“Let’s take beastmen as an example. An ordinary beastman couldn’t resist the Beast God’s commands, but someone as powerful as the Beast King should be able to disregard them. Not that I know of anyone who would do such a thing.”

I imagine people would be happy that their god chose them.

“One would imagine.”

So much for the relationship between gods and men. But what about the Evil One and his vassals? Did he only have dominion over Fiends?

“No,” said Fenrir. “He has dominion over all born within this world.”

Vassals were technically beings created by their respective gods. The Beast God created the Godbeast, so its beastmen descendants were still under its dominion.

“Before the Evil One fell,” Fenrir continued, “he was the God of War, who acted as counselor to the gods.”

Which meant that the War God had assisted the entire pantheon at the moment of creation. The Evil One retained his dominion because he’d had a hand in creating everything, but his dominion wasn’t as strong as the other gods because of his minor participation.

As for how vassals of the gods could rebel against their patron gods in the first place, it was because the Evil One had taken part of their dominion.

“When he fell, he changed his powers to focus on that dominion.”

What? Then how is anyone supposed to beat him?

“It would be difficult for an ordinary being to defeat a piece of the Evil One. The only ones who can challenge him are Godsword users who can resist his evil influence.”

Okay…but how do I fit into all of this? I’m just your run-of-the-mill Japanese Earthling.

I was currently a discarded Godsword, sure, but I’d been an ordinary office worker in my past life. Just another otaku salaryman who liked manga, anime, and video games.

“The fact that you were born on Earth makes all the difference.”

What…? Oh! Oh, I get it now!

“Go on.”

Anyone born in this world has a chance of being taken over by the Evil One. But that doesn’t apply to me because I’m not of this world!

“Correct.”

The plan was to fuse Fenrir’s crystal-draining system to an Earthling’s soul to prevent the Evil One from taking over. I was like a filter or a barrier; Fenrir and the others would be safe as long as I was around.

Well, that shoe has finally dropped. I’d been wondering why an ordinary person like me was summoned here. Apparently, my being born on Earth made all the difference. But I still don’t know why I was chosen out of everyone on Earth, though. Was it random?

“It may seem like chance to you, but there were requirements to be fulfilled.”

Really? So it wasn’t random? I was kind of flattered. I felt somehow…validated.

“Yes. First, it depends on the shape of your soul. I don’t know the details, but a soul needs to have a particular shape for it to become the personality of a sword. That’s what the gods told me, anyway. The core of the sword, forged by the Goddess of Chaos using her dungeon system, is also crucial. Compatibility with that system is said to be essential.”

The dungeon system?

“That’s all I know. I don’t know where or what the ‘dungeon system’ they spoke of is. But the way you collect points to acquire new powers is very similar to that of a dungeon master.”

That must be why I was registered as a vassal of the Goddess of Chaos. She had said that I was still considered one of hers, which meant I might be a vassal of other gods, too. The Goddess of the Silver Moon, probably.

“Your personality also matters. You were going to be the personality of a powerful sword, after all. We had to make sure you were suited to the task.”

I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a saint. If there’s anything I could be sure of it was my wealth of desires and bad taste.

“The gods said it was better that you were ordinary. Too good a person, and they would be overwhelmed by self-righteousness, proclaiming their own brand of justice as the truth. Of course, we couldn’t have any bad guys, either. A good heart with an average personality was the best.”

I guess they wanted someone whose motto was ‘everything in moderation.’

“And then there’s your belief system. No atheists, but no fanatics, either. We couldn’t have someone proclaiming their god as the one true god here; it wouldn’t fly. And your mind needed to be open enough to adapt to life in this world.”

As Fenrir listed the criteria, a certain type of person came to my mind which fit all of them: the Japanese otaku.

They had a habit of looking down on nice people, sure, but they didn’t have the guts to commit atrocities. They were quick to pray to their gods if they needed anything (just in case any of them were listening), and they understood the fantastic worlds of light novels and video games. Your mileage may vary, of course, but…

Huh. Maybe that was why Japanese otaku kept becoming the protagonists of the isekai genre! Maybe the isekai stories currently flooding the Earth were written by returnees from other worlds…

“For a soul to be summoned to this world, we needed a human who was dying or dead. Their souls were apparently easier to summon. All of this narrowed them down to a handful of appropriate souls.”

A soul needed the right shape, personality, and needed to be close to death. Not many candidates there. The more I learned, the slimmer the odds seemed. It seemed less like a plan and more like a gamble.

“I think you were the fifth candidate since the gods started looking. The four people before weren’t enthused about reincarnating into a sword in a world where killing was the norm. They refused. Fortunately for us, you agreed. And so the sword was completed.”

I wasn’t the only one who fulfilled the criteria, then? Well, it sure made me thankful to the previous four candidates for refusing to reincarnate. If not for them, I would’ve never met Fran.

“The Goddess of the Nether summoned you, sealed away your memories, and sealed your personality in the sword.”

That’s what I’ve been wanting to ask you. Why erase my memories? What kind of memories were they?

“They were erased for your own sake. You were human, after all, and you were about to be turned into a sword. Lingering memories of your human senses would have driven you mad.”

Fanatix had said the same thing. A man can’t take being a sword.

“She likely sealed the memories of your quirks and desires, which would have had a great impact on your emotional stability.”

If a human was going to live as a sword and stay sane, then his humanity had to be cordoned off.

So I’m guessing there’s a lot more memories that I’m missing aside from the reincarnation process.

“Correct. The seal on those memories was supposed to be undone once you got used to being a sword. You probably don’t remember, but we explained this to you before reincarnating and you agreed to it.”

I knew I must have. Given a choice between going insane and losing part of my memories, I would’ve definitely picked the latter.

There was still the mystery of why I agreed to reincarnate to begin with. But considering I was dying at that point, I probably just wanted to live, even if it was as a sword. Why would someone refuse life in the first place? Wasn’t having your memories sealed away better than dying? Maybe they were afraid of their personalities changing, of losing themselves. They were going to become swords after all.

Even then, memory loss is far preferable to death.

You said I was supposed to regain my memories. Was there a change of plans?

“Yes. That’s why I asked you to come here. The gods aren’t quite omnipotent, but I wasn’t expecting their plans to change so extensively. I don’t know if I should compliment you or lament that you’ve surpassed them in some way.”

Fenrir sighed before explaining the anomaly that was happening to me.

“The original plan was to have Cherubim support you until you got used to living as a sword. Once you adapted, I was to reveal myself to you and you would regain a portion of your memories. I would then slowly incorporate myself into you and the sword.

But Cherubim…P.A., she’s…

“Yes. She overextended herself fighting the Lich and is heavily damaged from that.”

P.A. had saved us when all seemed lost. The Cherubim system allowed us to emerge victorious, but we’d lost P.A. as a result. Since then, I hadn’t been able to talk to her.

“Of course, we would’ve been annihilated if she hadn’t intervened. I am grateful to her, but the plan started coming apart after we lost Cherubim’s support system.” 

And that wasn’t the only spanner in the works. Fenrir started counting on his fingers. 

“Your prodigious rate of growth. The insane battles you keep finding yourself in. Your copious number of Skills. Your system overload after using Unleash Potential. Your loss of control from Mad Ogre Form. Your assimilation of Fanatix.”

When he put it that way, the last couple of months had been pretty busy. That seemed…not great.

I’d lost P.A. after using Unleash Potential, creating a huge void in my system. Mad Ogre Form made Fenrir’s evil side go berserk. And Fanatix’s remnants placed so much stress on my system that the seal on my memories and the Evil One was coming apart.

“This is all proof of how hard you and Fran have been fighting. I won’t say it’s a bad thing. But the gods have had to make extreme adjustments to accommodate you.”

The gods experienced time differently and were more lenient because of it. But even by their standards, we were probably running in the fast lane. They didn’t think the seals on my memory and the Evil One were foolproof, which was why the gods had left the vestiges of Cherubim behind. She’d be able to fix the seals if they ever started coming apart.

But that repair ability was drastically reduced after P.A. lost her powers. The many dangerous encounters we’d had in a short period of time had only weakened the seal further.

“But Aristea fixed it,” Fran said.

“She did, and she did a decent job of it, too. But even a Godsmith couldn’t completely understand the workings of a divine mechanism. It was first aid at best.”

And this is different?

“I don’t know the exact details, but it’s supposed to be.”

The pedestal I was lodged inside was made by the gods, and it had powers Fenrir didn’t even know.

“In any case, you’ve grown far stronger before fully adapting to being a sword. Left unchecked, the seal on your memories will break, which would leave a lasting mark on your mind—would drive you insane, as a matter of fact.” Fenrir said. “And that’s not all. You’ve been hearing voices lately, right?”

Voices?

I didn’t think he meant his own voice. There was only one other alternative.

You mean the voice telling me to devour everything?

The horrific screaming I heard right after I absorbed Fanatix in the capital. The voice which told me to ‘devour’ over and over. I’d yelled at it for being too loud—I was in the middle of a battle, after all. It disappeared after that.

“The very one. I’m guessing you know who that voice belongs to now.”

The Evil One…

“Correct. The pieces of the Evil One fused to my soul, to be precise. But still…” Fenrir chuckled.

What’s so funny?

“I’m just remembering the look on the bastard’s face when you yelled at him,” he sniggered. “He couldn’t believe that there was a creature he couldn’t control. He was so shocked that he backed off.”

So that’s what happened. I didn’t ward the pieces of the Evil One away with my force of will—they were just so shocked that they left me alone.

“There are still traces of the Evil One within in you, and we can’t leave that alone. I had you come here so you could have your memory seal reinforced and all your systems repaired.”

“So Teacher can get better now?”

“Without a doubt. I’ll be in a world of trouble if he doesn’t. I am part of him, after all.”

For all the troubling things that Fenrir had told us, things were going to work out somehow. That meant I would still get to be with Fran.

So what should I do?

“Nothing.”

Nothing…? Just…don’t move?

“That’s right. The pedestal will repair you by itself. Your job is to stay perfectly still. The spells built into the pedestal should already be diagnosing you.”

Roger that. Don’t move. Just…don’t move. I’m actually a little scared of this now…

I recalled the mind-splitting pain I experienced when Aristea was fixing me. Was that going to happen again?

So how long is this going to take?

“That I don’t know. It might take an hour, a day, a week.”

Wait, so I might be stuck here for a while?

“Think of all the complex systems running in your blade. You might be here for over a month, for all I know.”

Seriously? What about Fran?

She would have to fight through the Demon Wolf’s Garden to return to Alessa. It was too dangerous even with Jet around.

And what about Skill Sharing?

“Skill Sharing should still work,” Fenrir said. “As long as you remain here.”

“Don’t worry,” Fran said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s pretty much our only option. I’m so sorry about all this, Fran.

“It’s okay. I can get some training done now.”

But you won’t be able to use me.

“Then I’ll train myself so I can fight without you. Jet’s still here, too.”

“Woof!”

Yeah, you’re right.

Fran’s combat capability wasn’t drastically reduced, since she could still use her Skills. As long as she stayed away from the outer rims, she’d probably be fine. Besides, Fenrir said that monsters kept a wide berth from the pedestal.

“Now then, shall I train you and Jet?” asked Fenrir.

“You?”

“Yeah. The pedestal’s powers allow me to materialize, but I’ll be going back to sleep once Teacher is fully repaired. This is the only time I’ll be able to train you.”

I think it’s a good idea, Fran.

I was interested to see how Fenrir would train them. I was especially interested in how he would train Jet. I finally understood why I had a wolf as a familiar—it was Fenrir’s doing. He was the reason Jet had the title ‘Vassal of the Godwolf.’ The Godwolf himself would have a lot to teach our direwolf.

Fran gave it some thought and bowed her head to Fenrir.

“Okay. I’m in your care.”

“Bark!”

“Excellent. We’ll begin with a short lecture.”

I watched as Fenrir commenced their training, but it was a little different from what I imagined. “Good. Don’t move.”

“Hrm.”

“Woof.”

“Focus your energy inside you. Sharpen your consciousness.”

He didn’t start with a class on how to make better use of their weapons and Skills. Instead, he worked on their inner workings. Fran sat cross-legged in a meditative state, working on the flow of her mana. She could already use a ton of flashy moves, but she was missing some of the basics because she had been self-taught. This basic training was the perfect remedy for that.

“You’ll be able to use your Skills better if you perfect this.”

Fenrir kept a close eye on Fran from inside of me. It allowed him to spot her weaknesses.

“You have two problems, Fran. First is your Skill control.”

I can’t say it’s perfect.

“Hm…”

My Skills were compounded into Advanced Skills after Aristea performed maintenance on me. They were stronger, but also harder to control. Fran gave a pained nod, admitting this weakness.

“Also, your strength is so great that it ends up recoiling against your own body.”

Yeah…I really wish we could do something about that.

The best I could think of was training her body and increasing her stats. Using less powerful Skills and reducing our output would solve that, but it wasn’t feasible if we were up against a powerful enemy.

“This exercise will help with that weakness.”

Huh? Really?

“Yes.”

If her Skill control got better, Fran would be able to use her excess mana to control the recoil. At the same time, her defense would get better.

“The effects won’t be quite on the same level as physical training, but she will see improvements.”

Sounds good. It was a simple but effective method of training.

“Now Jet, your main advantage is your utilization of Skills.”

His Skill variety is his main selling point.

“That it is. Dark direwolves don’t see a huge increase in combat ability when they evolve further.”

What?

“W-woof?”

Jet was also surprised to hear what Fenrir said about evolution. You could read it plain on his face. “Wait, seriously?”

“A Darkness Wolf can further evolve into either a Gehenna Wolf or a Darknight Wolf. They are both Lord-class monsters. As such, they have more Control Skills to use on other wolf class monsters. However, their own abilities won’t increase as much.”

So they let their minions do the fighting, like a Goblin King?

“Indeed. They will have more spells at their disposal, but their stats will not see an explosive increase like other wolf types.”

The alpha of a wolfpack would have a different set of skills from a lone wolf.

“Ruff…” Jet hung his head in response. He’d really wanted to have a super strong evolution.

“But that’s why training is so important for you, Jet,” Fenrir said. “You need to improve your Skills to get stronger as a lone wolf. You have to think of more ways to use them.”

“Woof!”

“Let’s do our best, Jet.”

Good luck, you two.

Three days had gone by since Fran and Jet started meditating. They took breaks, of course, but their waking hours were otherwise spent in the meditative stance. Jet just looked like he was heeling.

I should’ve cooked some food before we got here.

“Fran is able to hunt and cook for herself, isn’t she? She has the Skills to do so.”

Yeah, but then she can’t focus on her training.

“Point.”

But today Fran and Jet were starting a different exercise: stalking the goblins in the area without using a single Skill. The goal of this exercise wasn’t to completely eliminate their reliance on stealth Skills, but to increase their latent stealth capacity, allowing them to get even stealthier when they added Skills to the mix.

I was very thankful for this—it wasn’t anything I could teach them, after all. When you’re an inanimate object, it’s hard to figure out what it’s like to conceal your presence. I didn’t have any presence to begin with. I lacked a pulse, breath, and didn’t have the scent associated with living things. My motion was powered by telekinesis, making it perfectly silent.

I didn’t even have what you’d ordinarily call an aura. All I needed to do was conceal my mana and monsters couldn’t detect me. I remembered the sensations of being human, but I hadn’t exactly gone out and trained in how to conceal myself back on Earth.

So now Fran and Jet had meditation in the morning followed by goblin stalking in the afternoon. Not exactly the most glamorous of training programs. Personally, I didn’t see how this would affect their damage output.

Will Fran really get stronger like this?

“Yes. The effects would be greater if she leveled up, of course.”

But wouldn’t she need me for that?

“She has other swords in her inventory, does she not? The outer rim monsters might be difficult without you, but Fran should easily be able to take on D-Threats.”

I guess…

“I know how you feel, but you need to take a step back sometimes.”

Urgh… Fenrir had a point. And it wasn’t as if I could do anything other than watch at this point. I was just worried that something would happen when she wasn’t under my watch.

How’s the progress on my repair going?

“Who knows? You’re still being diagnosed, as far as I can tell. The repair process budged an inch.”

Even after three days?

“Yeah. Repairs should take longer than diagnosis, too.”

Meaning if the diagnosis ends today, we’re looking at another three days at least. According to Fenrir, my underlying systems were so complex that a full analysis was going to take a lot of time. And you can’t tell the rate of progress?

“No.”

Ugh… Not being able to see the end of this process was its own sort of agony.

“Sorry. But this is for your own sake. You’ll have to be patient.”

I know. By the way, I know I can’t move right now, but can I still use my Skills and spells?

“Well, I think you should limit yourself to telepathy and basic magic. The more strain you put on yourself the longer the diagnosis will take.”

I’ll…be still, I guess.

“Good.”

Please just let this end!

A week had passed since I had been inserted into the pedestal. Diagnosis was still ongoing.

At this rate, I had to wonder if it’d really take a whole month to finish.

I was doing okay as long as Fran was around, but I had absolutely nothing to do when she was out goblin-stalking. Speaking of which, Fran and Jet had taken a liking to that exercise. They look forward to it every day, taking to it with the spirit of a private eye.

“We’ll get close to Bent Nose without getting noticed today.”

“Woof!”

“And we can ignore Broken Horn.”

“Arf?”

“He keeps playing with Swordsman and never comes back to the nest.”

Fran had taken to identifying and naming the goblins they were stalking, and she looked like she was having a ball with it. They were going to stalk a goblin’s movements for the whole day in order to locate its nest, something they could do until they got bored.

Fran and Jet would be away until it was dark out, leaving me alone with my imagination. In my boredom, I ended up finishing a light novel in my head.

‘Middle-Aged Sage Was An SSSS-Rank Heroic Adventurer In His Past Life And Reincarnates Into A Holy Blade Wielded By An Evil Lady In Order To Become A Demon Lord.’ Catchy title, I know.

This super high fantasy piece had plenty of laughs and plenty of tears. It had the schadenfreude of seeing an engagement be destroyed as well as the hedonistic pleasures of the harem genre. The story ends as our hero, with his harem of a hundred wives, is about to take vengeance upon his old party that left him. Then, everything turns out to be a dream. The protagonist awakes in his bed on Earth with the realization of the pointlessness of war and tearfully comes to the conclusion, “An ordinary life is the best life!” A cop-out? Maybe. But touching all the same.

Honestly, I thought it was pretty good. Good enough to top the charts of a light novel website if I were to upload it back on Earth. Maybe I had a knack for this writing thing.

“What are you up to, Teacher?”

I was so bored I started writing a shitty fantasy novel in my head. Worst yet, I finished the thing…and now I’m bored again.

“Perhaps you should do some exercises of your own,” Fenrir mused.

But I already am. I was already doing Fran’s mana control exercise. But thanks to the Skill Multi Mind, I could train and think about other stuff at the same time. I couldn’t help it!

“Not to mention your grace from the God of Wisdom.”

What?

“That blessing helps you cast multiple spells at the same time. It makes it easier for you to maintain multiple trains of thought.”

The effect was multiplied when coupled with Multi Mind. Unfortunately, it also multiplied my own boredom. Actually, why do I even have Wisdom God’s Grace?

“Because Cherubim was created to be a vassal of the God of Wisdom. That’s what the being you call P.A. is.”

The bond I had with P.A. was strengthened after Aristea’s maintenance, making me a vassal of the God of Wisdom, as well.

You know, I was thinking about the emblem on my hilt. Why is it a wolf? I know it’s supposed to represent you, but I thought I was made from Cherubim. And a Cherubim is an angel, as far as I know.

“There are a few reasons. First is to conceal the fact that you were made from Cherubim. Even if most people are never going to see you, there are those who know what Cherubim look like, not to mention the Skill Oracle of the Gods.”

A former Godsword was still a Godsword, and people want those things. Hiding it was the right choice.

“The other reason is that it’s simply more powerful that way.”

What? But it’s just a change of shape. Was my strength really affected by the change of my emblem shape?

“Form and being are intertwined. Cherubim has a form befitting Cherubim, and you—with me residing within you—have a form that fits for you.”

And my strength changes because of that?

“Slightly. Godswords are highly advanced weapons, after all. Changing a Godsword’s emblem won’t alter its powers much.”

But a Godsword being slightly more powerful was significant given how strong Godswords already were.

“Well,” Fenrir mused further. “It also affects what blessings you can get. A weapon with the shape of a flame cannot receive the blessing of the Water God. That’s how important form is to function.”

All right, but I still have Wisdom God’s Grace. Given my wolf emblem, I thought I’d get a blessing related to you or the Goddess of the Silver Moon.

“I’m going to sound like I’m contradicting myself, but form isn’t everything. It is but one factor making up a much larger, more intricate pattern.”

So what’s on the inside and outside both matter.

“Correct.”

I was going to get Wisdom God’s Grace as I grew stronger, but I needed it immediately after P.A. lost her powers. Fortunately, I should be back on track soon after Aristea fixed me up.

“As for the blessing of the Goddess of Chaos,” Fenrir said. “I…don’t know. She’s always been capricious. I wouldn’t be surprised if she blessed you because she thought it would be funny.”

The Goddess of Chaos seemed like a…well, a chaotic person when I met her, just as you’d expect. That was the main impression I got of her when I talked to her in the dungeons of Ulmutt, anyway. “Have a blessed chaos,” she’d said.

After everything you said about vassals, it sounds like kind of a pain in the ass.

Fenrir sighed. “This is the problem with you otherworlders. The people in this world would kill to have the graces of two gods bestowed upon them. Besides, the gods aren’t even controlling you. They’re not telling you what to do. Just think of them as useful Skills you have at your disposal.”

I’m pretty sure the Goddess of Chaos gave me orders when we last met.

“But they weren’t the orders given to vassals. She was just intimidating you with her powers.”

And you don’t think that makes her worse?

“Who knows? You’re free to rebel if you’re ready to die.”

But I don’t wanna die. 

Conclusion: Don’t rebel against the gods. Unless it’s the Evil One, of course. But what if we ended up fighting one of them? I didn’t think it was possible, but still…

I’m in a funk because I have nothing to do. My mind just thinks of the worst possible outcomes when I think too much, see? I was usually optimistic, but overthinking makes everyone a pessimist.

Fenrir sighed again. “In that case, I’ll show you something more complex to work on.”

Shoot.

“Change the shape of your basic spells by manipulating its mana. This is basic mage training.”

Change the shape? So I can make my arrow spells thicker?

“Even better. You’ll be able to do stuff like this.” Fenrir produced a fire arrow right in front of his eyes and its shape quickly changed to that of a wolf. It even mimicked a howling motion. “Did you get that? I didn’t use any additional mana there.”

Right. I usually modified my spells by putting more mana into the cast. It allowed me to increase the spell’s power and change its shape, but I still needed to spend mana. I couldn’t just do it the way Fenrir did. What he did cost the same mana as a regular fire arrow. I’d need to train my mana control and imagination to do the same thing.

Beginner mages trained in such a way to make the best out of their limited mana pool. They’d cast their spells but change their shape in order to train their focus, control, and endurance. My magic was all self-taught, so I really appreciated Fenrir filling in this huge gap in my fundamentals. At this rate, my spells would become more powerful without any extra leveling.

“You won’t spend that much mana, which means that it won’t have much of an effect on your diagnosis. You’ll be able to make more interesting spells, the more focused you are. You’ll be training and entertaining yourself at the same time.”

That does sound fun.

I conjured up a fire arrow and tried to make it into a wolf like Fenrir did.

I guess a wolf is asking too much from my first try.

“Start with basic shapes.”

Damn it. Just you wait. I’ll make a full-blown cerberus eventually!

“Looking forward to it.”

How long has it been?

“...”

No answer. Of course not.

I had lost all sense of time ever since I was put into this pedestal.

Clouds drifted, rain fell, days and nights passed over me. And yet I remained.

Eons…how long is that? When will I ever get out of here?

“...”

When will I leave this prison of a garden…?

A voice answered my lamentation. The deep voice of a man with a commanding tone.

“Are you quite done?”

Fenrir looked exasperated as I played out my ‘I’ve been here for a million years’ fantasy.

I’m bored!

“I didn’t think it was going to take this long. At least it’s better than that time you were stuck in the Withering Forest.”

I won’t fight you on that one…

At least here I knew there was going to be an end to this. Fran, Jet, and Fenrir were hanging around, too, and I was getting stronger from all my training.

But I can’t help myself! It’s been a month!

One whole month! And the pedestal was still diagnosing me. How long was this going to take? There was a small hut made of land magic next to the pedestal now. Fran had roughed it out on the field for the first few days; she never minded that sort of thing. In fact, she preferred the wide-open space of the plains compared to a cooped-up room.

Eventually it rained, though, and a modest hut became necessary. Fenrir offered to make it—but he ended up digging a huge hole and saying, “Perfect for a good night’s sleep!”

Oh, right. He was a giant wolf and all.

In the end, Fran had to make the hut herself. Being Fran, it wasn’t a very well-made hut. All she wanted was a roof over her head, and that was basically all she made. I would’ve made her a castle if I wasn’t bound to using basic spells!

Still, Fran and Jet’s training went smoothly, partly due to my ongoing restoration process and partly thanks to Fenrir being able to show himself to them.

Let me show you what I can do with frost magic now.

I’d never been good with frost magic. Now, though, I conjured up a basic spell and turned it into a wolf, and then into a dragon, and then into a tiger. As for my specialties—thunder and fire magic—I could conjure up a ten-headed dragon, each head possessing its own fine articulation, and end the trick with a fireworks display.

I could also make a pretty lady do a sexy pose, though this wasn’t something I could ever show Fran.

“You could just turn off Multi Mind, you know,” Fenrir said. “You’re more sensitive to the passage of time because of how fast your thoughts are going.”

But what if I need to respond to something immediately?

I kept my detection abilities on so that I could notice if Fran was in trouble when she was out training. This made Multi Mind necessary since it allowed me to control multiple trains of thought.

“You’re such a worrywart.”

Besides, it makes for good practice. I can’t just fool around while Fran and Jet are out there training. 

Fran was now in the second phase of her training. She’d fight using only Sword Arts, which she wasn’t used to. The recovery time after a Sword Art made it far too risky to use in a high-speed battle. With all the Skills and spells she used to enhance her single strikes, she never really had much of a need for them. But there was another reason why Fran wasn’t very good at using Sword Arts.

An ordinary swordsman progressed in this manner: Train Sword Mastery → Acquire Sword Arts → Use mainly Sword Arts in battle → Fight an opponent that they can’t beat using only Sword Arts → Even out both Sword Mastery and Sword Arts in training.

But Fran was immediately blessed with high-level Sword Mastery from the get-go, which made it her go-to Skill in combat. She skipped the stage of spamming Sword Arts and watching them fail in combat. By this point, the ordinary swordsman would have the timing and feel of various Sword Arts ingrained in muscle memory. Without this experience, Fran had trouble mixing Sword Arts into her offense and defense.

We mainly used Sword Arts to get the drop on an opponent or deal the finishing blow. Hence, Fenrir told her to fight using only Sword Arts. They even sparred with this method. He was a phantom, so getting hit wasn’t a problem for him. He gave her advice every time she did.

“I would like her to try it in a real battle.”

Can’t she just keep sparring with you?

“I can’t fight back because I’m a phantom. I don’t even make for a proper sparring partner, really. Then again, the goblins in the surrounding area don’t pose much of a challenge, either. She needs something stronger. Either she finds a proper monster to fight or spars with an adventurer.”

A new technique could only be learned through repetition in actual combat.

“And I’m also running out of time.”

Huh? What do you mean?

“I’m trying to save as much energy as I can outside of training, but I can’t keep materializing myself for long. I won’t be able to keep talking to you, either. Sorry about that.”

Not only would Fenrir disappear from our sight, he would also return to his dormant state.

“I’ve taught Fran everything I can, and it’s going to be vexing not being able to see how she’s doing. You’ll have to take care of the rest, Teacher.”

Can she just hunt weak monsters?

“If she can’t find an ideal sparring partner, she’ll have no choice. She’ll start small and work her way up. Fortunately, the Garden offers a selection of monsters to fight.”

I was still worried about letting her fight monsters without me. The last time we were separated was at the capital, but this time I would be the one left waiting.

Can’t Fran and Jet just fight each other?

“Those two know each other’s tricks too well. You’ll need another adventurer or a powerful monster.”

Another adventurer was out of the question; we’d have to hide my existence and they would have to stay here for as long as Fran needed training. I doubted we could find any takers. Monsters were our only option, but the thought of having her fight without me was too distressing. I was probably more worried about them than they were about themselves.

Urgh…

“You really need to worry less, Teacher.”

I know that… But I couldn’t help myself, you know?!

Fran and Jet returned as Fenrir had a good chuckle about my neurosis.

“We’re back.”

“Woof!”

Hey, how’d it go?

“Hm. We’ve almost broken through Bent Nose.”

“Woof!”

They were still enjoying their game of goblin-stalking. As she talked about her exciting battle with the goblin, Fran suddenly held her stomach.

“I’m hungry,” she said. They both looked downcast and their stomachs growled, dying for more calories. They trained so hard that they’d gotten hungry—the ideal healthy lifestyle. 

Fran and Jet cleaned themselves up with magic and I got to preparing their meal. Sure it was just taking some dishes out of Pocket Dimension, but I had to make sure to rotate them so they wouldn’t get bored.

Let’s have curry topped with fish fry today.

“Hm! Fish is good, too.”

“Woof!”

Enjoy your meal.

“Let’s eat!”

“Bark, bark!”

“The worst thing about this body is the fact that I can’t eat,” Fenrir sighed as he watched Fran and Jet stuffed their faces with curry. I knew where he was coming from, and these two did have a way of making food look delicious. I was jealous myself, despite no longer having an appetite. Fenrir’s appetite had also disappeared with his phantom body.

“Huh…?”

“Woof.”

Fran was washing down the unbelievable feast with some tea…but suddenly both of them stopped what they were doing and stared north.

Something’s coming.

“In a straight line,” Fran said. Whatever it was had a lot of mana, and it was coming in hot. I thought it was just another monster in a rampage, but it was ignoring all of the areas, making a beeline for the center. This was no ordinary monster.

Get ready, you two!

“Hm!”

“Grr!”

Fran and Jet got up to anticipate the threat. Fenrir disappeared just in case. I would probably need to stop my diagnosis, too. I didn’t know whether I could actually do that, but Fran’s safety came first.

“Hm?”

“Arf?”

But our anxiety soon melted away. The mana signature hadn’t disappeared, but it belonged to someone we knew. As it got closer, we knew exactly who it was.

“Amanda?”

“Woof.”

Amanda, A Rank adventurer, was approaching us at Mach speed—just really going for it. 

Five minutes passed and there she was, within sight. When we got a visual on her, she got a visual on us.

“Fraaaaaaan!” Amanda smiled, hands waving frantically. She picked up speed when she saw Fran, and her wind spell ripped right through a goblin that was standing between them. Both Fran and Jet let out an anguished cry when they saw it happen.

“Bent Nose, nooooo!”

“Arooooo!”

The goblin was Bent Nose, Fran and Jet’s eternal rival. It had an outstanding sense of smell for a goblin, which allowed it to smell them as they were stalking it. They’d done their best to be stealthy so they could observe it from afar.

“Bent Nose…”

“Huh? What?” Amanda was confused when she saw Fran’s reaction.

“Amanda, you dummy.”

“Huh? What’d I do…?”

Amanda was expecting a heartfelt reunion after not seeing Fran for a long time. But Fran was on her knees, crying about gods knew what. She was mad at Amanda, too.

“I’m…sorry?” Amanda said. She didn’t know what she did but she bowed her head and apologized. “I’m really sorry.”

“Fine…”

“Oh, thank you, Fran!”

“Mrgh.”

Amanda jumped towards Fran and hugged her tight. Fran made a strange noise within her chest, but was then decisively assailed with cheek rubs and kisses. This was their first meeting in a while and I knew that Amanda could get passionate…but if she was a dude, I’d ignore my diagnosis and give her a good wallop.

“You’ll be okay now, Fran!” Amanda said. “Your big sister’s here to protect you!”

Fran tilted her head in confusion. “What?”

“You haven’t come back from the Demon Wolf’s Garden in weeks! We thought you ran into some trouble.”

“I didn’t.” Looks like Fran had been away for long enough to be treated as a missing person. “But didn’t I tell everyone I’d be out training?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t think you’d stay here the whole time.”

Normally, adventurers who trained in a nearby haunt returned to the city every few days to resupply food and sell gathered materials. But Fran had bypassed this problem with Pocket Dimension. She could take the extended trips to dungeons and haunts that ordinary adventurers couldn’t.

“I came to check on you because Nell was so worried about you.”

“But she knows I have Pocket Dimension.”

“You should be more aware about how crazy you can get sometimes,” Amanda sighed and poked Fran’s nose. Fran must have been a special kind of crazy if even this A Rank was saying it… “Storage spells aren’t usually this powerful.”

She’s not wrong. There were Timespace spells which allowed you to store items, but they weren’t as convenient as ours were. I even had a spell called Storage which I had yet to use because Pocket Dimension was just that much better. Instant access, large opening, near boundless storage space, and time stood still inside of it: it was a very specialized Skill.

In comparison, basic storage items and spells didn’t have as much inventory space, even if they could store large items like ours could. They also took more time if you weren’t used to them. All in all, I was lucky that I’d acquired Pocket Dimension so early in my adventure.

“And this is an A-Threat haunt, remember? As strong as you are, everyone got worried after you disappeared for a month. Even if the Guildmaster just laughed it off.”

So Amanda had rushed to the Demon Wolf’s Garden, thinking something had happened to Fran.

“And Teacher’s missing so I was expecting the worst…” Amanda continued. “What happened to him? I can’t sense his mana.” She looked right through me with pained eyes. 

Apparently, I was undetectable to outsiders as long as I was in the pedestal. As far as she could tell, I was a depowered magic sword. Amanda looked uncomfortable when she asked Fran about me, and it was a difficult question if you knew about us. It would be like asking why your partner was dead.

Fortunately, I had already talked to Fenrir about how much Amanda could know.

I appreciate your concern, Amanda, but please don’t junk me so easily.

“Huh? Teacher? You’re okay? I thought for sure you were…”

Apparently, this pedestal keeps my mana from leaking out as long as I’m inside it. It was made by a Godsmith, you see.

“Wow, well that explains it. But a Godsmith? Are you a Godsword?”

Ha ha ha. No, no. I’m a regular sword that just so happens to be made by a Godsmith, that’s all.

“Uh-huh. You’re not lying, but I get the feeling like you’re not telling me the whole story.”

I, uh…I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“Wow, how’d you figure that out, Amanda?”

Fran!

“Huh?”

Amanda giggled. “Don’t worry. I have some secrets of my own, you know. I imagine you must have a lot more secrets than I do, being an Intelligent Weapon.”

She didn’t seem mad, which was good. Her intuition was amazing.

“I had a feeling that these ruins had something to do with you. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody.”

Thanks.

“But you know, I never knew this place was related to Godsmiths. The ruins have always been a mystery.”

“Hm. Teacher is being fixed up here.”

This pedestal comes with a variety of features.

“Fixed up? Did something happen?”

Fenrir opined that I shouldn’t tell Amanda about him or the gods. The most she could know was about the Godsmith Elmera and how maintenance was being conducted on me.

“There was a huge fight in the capital,” Fran began. After listening to her long story, Amanda pulled her into her arms again and started patting her head at high speed.

“You fought so hard!” she cried. 

Fran had a habit of being dragged into life-threatening combat wherever she went, after all. But Amanda was still patting Fran’s head so fast I thought she might set fire to it and leave her bald.

“You did a great job exposing that cheapskate marquis’ plot, but don’t go too crazy, all right?”

“Cheapskate marquis?”

“Aschtner! I accepted some quests for him and he’d always skimp out on the pay! I didn’t have much of a choice after an acquaintance introduced me to him.”

Amanda had taken a number of provision quests for the marquis in the past. As a person of influence in Alessa, she was in no position to refuse. She had a lot of connections with the government and nobility, so this was probably a regular occurrence for her.

But her position also gave her access to the details of the story. Amanda was going up against Raydoss, after all, and she also could use her personal pipelines to do information gathering of her own. Basically, she knew what Fran had gone through in the capital.

But it was Amanda’s first time hearing about what happened in the Beastman Nation. Her face darkened with sorrow when she heard about Kiara’s death. It wasn’t so much grief over Kiara’s death, but out of sympathy for Fran’s loss.

“You really are a fighter, Fran,” she said quietly. “But don’t push yourself too hard, all right?”

“Hm?’

“I’d be very sad if something happened to you out there. Take it easy once in a while, okay?”

Amanda’s tone was playful, but she looked at Fran with earnest eyes. Fran could only nod apologetically.

“Hm…but I can’t get stronger if I don’t push myself.”

“Right,” Amanda sighed and turned away. She knew that she wasn’t going to change Fran’s resolve.

“By the way…”

“Hm?”

“You’re training while waiting for Teacher to get fixed up, right?”

“Hm.”

That’s the plan.

“I see. All right then, I’ll help you out!” Amanda clenched her fists with a look of determination. She looked motivated enough to start sparring in an instant.

And how do you plan on doing that?

Amanda should’ve been in Alessa to anticipate the Raydossian invasion. She shouldn’t be able to do anything this reckless as long as the skirmishes were still ongoing.

“You need a training partner, don’t you? I volunteer.”

“Oooh.”

Fran was happy, but could Amanda really afford to do this?

We appreciate it and all, but what about Alessa? Aren’t you about to go to war with Raydoss?

“Oh, that.” Amanda then filled me in on the current situation. Alessan forces had succeeded in repelling the Raydossian army, causing them to retreat. Raydoss then issued a statement that a group of radicals had initiated the invasion and apologized on their behalf. “We’re very sorry for our little rascals, but you know how they can be.” Something like that. But afterwards, Raydoss had also sent a messenger to deliver the head of the radical ringleader.

“The head belongs to an unrelated low-rank noble who lost a dispute between the nobility, of course.”

A scapegoat. The leaders of Alessa and negotiators sent from Granzell knew this, to be sure. But they had no choice other than to accept Raydoss’ excuse.

“Why? They started it,” said Fran.

“I know,” Amanda whined. “But prolonging the war doesn’t do us any good, either.”

Especially not when the capital of the nation was in shambles. Granzell wanted to focus its efforts on rebuilding the city. There was the matter of saving face, but that was resolved after Raydoss apologized. They could extract restitution payments from them, too.

Raydoss had probably taken all of this into account. Even if they failed, they knew that Granzell would not launch a counterinvasion, not after what happened. They’d need to pay restitution, but they got precious combat data in return.

“Jean is keeping guard at the border while the other adventurers are sniffing out Raydossian spies at home.”

“And you?”

“I’m taking on high level and urgent quests to make up for the other adventurers. But I worked a little too hard and ended up finishing them all.”

Then why not join the spy hunt? I wondered.

Well, because Amanda was too well-known to be a viable option. 

“How rude of them, really. I can be sneaky when I need to be. Nell and Klimt made it sound like I’m some muscle-brained lunatic who’s only good for fighting,” she complained. But she quickly regained her composure. “It all worked out, though. It gave me a chance to come here. I should be thanking them, really!”

Amanda wouldn’t be staying here. She would return to Alessa and visit us once every few days.

“You can’t just spar with me the whole time, right? You need a balanced training program. Sparring, hunting, basic training, exploring the field with me. I think it’s a solid plan.”

This is a good opportunity, Teacher. You should accept her offer.

Fenrir agreed to Amanda’s suggestion without revealing himself to her.

Well, if you’ll have us.

“Hm. Thanks Amanda.”

Fran and I nodded. Amanda then started preparing her whip. Despite her cheerful humming, she was stretching her weapon in her hands.

Uhhh, we’re doing it now?

“Of course!”

“Hm. Naturally.”

And here I thought I understood the inner workings of blood knights, but nope. These two weren’t about to do anything as ordinary as take a short break.

Soon, Fran and Amanda were prepared for battle.

“Shall we hop to it?”

“Hm!”

They stood in front of the pedestal, watching each other with sharp eyes. You wouldn’t believe they’d had a tearful reunion only a few minutes ago…

Fran was equipped with the Enchanted Phantom Augite Blade. Meanwhile, Amanda brandished an ominous-looking whip with the equally terrifying name Devil’s Torture. The whip was red and thorny, and shining with the gleam of enamel. It was a different whip from the Sky Dragon’s Beard she broke at the tournament and the replacement she used in the finals.

Name: Devil’s Torture

Attack: 721, MP: 616, Durability: 720

Mana Conductivity: B-

Skills: Telescopic, Amplify Pain, Paralyze

Name: Sky Dragon’s Beard

Attack: 1030, MP: 1800, Durability: 1000

Mana Conductivity: A

Skills: Weight Change, Telescopic

Weaker than Sky Dragon’s Beard but still formidable. Amplify Pain sounded like a despicable Skill to deal with.

“I’m testing this new whip while I’m at it. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Hm. Sounds good.”

Amanda chuckled. “Good. Here we go.”

And the battle began. To an outsider, the start of the match might have seemed sudden and abrupt, but not to these two. A match started as soon as both combatants readied their weapons.

“Tsch!”

“Hrm!”

“Haaa!”

“Hm!” Fran slashed at Amanda while dodging her lashes. The exchange lasted for a few minutes before Amanda smiled.

She looked impressed. “You’ve changed your approach.”

“Hm.”

“You’re consciously using more Sword Arts, I see. I get it.”

Amanda saw what Fran was doing right away. Watching her fight, I noticed that she naturally blended Whip Arts into her Whip Mastery.

“Tsh! Haa!” Her whip danced about the battlefield. It dug into the ground and attacked Fran from beneath before ending in a horizontal strike. This move was a Whip Art called Twisted Water Lily, and Amanda used it to lock down both horizontal and vertical movements of her opponent. Now Fran had to worry about dodging the attacks she could see and anticipate the underground attacks she couldn’t see. And this was just one of Amanda’s many Whip Arts.

There was Snake Sting, a move which instantly resumed her offense once deflected. And Mizuchi Strike, an art which made the whip move like a living thing despite Amanda not moving a muscle. All of which highlighted the importance of utilizing one’s weapon arts.

So that’s the goal…

In the end, Fran’s sword was flung out of her hands under the pressure of the storm of lashes. Amanda was very strong.

“Urgh…”

“You’re not beating me just yet. But I think you’ll be a lot stronger with this new approach of yours. You might actually surpass me once you get the hang of using your weapon arts.”

“Hm!”

“And fighting without Teacher will definitely be a boon for you. Attack power and magic aside, it forces you to make your own decisions in battle.”

“Okay…” Fran nodded, though she seemed frustrated. Her ability to take advice was what let her grow. Even if she was stubborn about other stuff, she was always willing to listen to combat advice.

“Right, then. Round two!”

“Hm!”

A single round wouldn’t be enough for these two. Fran and Amanda sparred with each other until the sun went down.

“I haven’t sparred like that in a while!”

“Hm…” Fran hadn’t won a single round. She managed to maintain her new approach of using mainly sword arts, but she was still frustrated. She probably thought she’d at least take a round from Amanda.

But the difference in power between the two was too stark, especially without me. It wasn’t just raw power, either. Amanda had years of experience and technique honed into her very bones.

Still, Fran managed to react to most of Amanda’s whip attacks in the second half. She just needed to keep it up and she would make a lot of progress.

Amanda smiled and complimented Fran as she wiped off her sweat. Like a big sister, she was happy at the progress Fran was making. And of course, she was reluctant to leave after the training was over.

“I’ll be going back to Alessa now. I’ll be back in four days.”

“Okay.”

“Will you be all right without me, Fran?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You’re not lying about being lonely, are you?”

“Hm.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you really really really—”

Get going, Amanda!

Dinner time.

Fran and Jet were sinking their teeth into a gigantic piece of meat.

Fran didn’t just eat curry all the time, see? Sure, she had curry for breakfast and lunch, but that’s beside the point.

A fanged boar had wandered into our camp earlier, so we roasted it and had it for dinner.

“This is pretty good,” Fran munched.

“Bow wow! Woof!”

Fran held a cartoonish cut of meat by the bones on its ends. Meanwhile, Jet was biting into the bone along with the meat. He loved the flavor of the thigh meat, as well as the texture of the bone.

“Well,” Fenrir said. “It’s time for me to go back to sleep.”

“Hm…”

“Woof…”

Fenrir had told them that he’d be going dormant again soon, but they were still sad to see him go. Unlike Amanda, they didn’t know when they could see him again.

“Don’t look so down,” said Fenrir. “I’m just going back to sleeping inside of Teacher. Good luck on your training, you two.”

“Thank you for everything.”

“Woof.”

Fran left her food on the table, got up, and bowed deeply to Fenrir. She could be serious when the situation called for it. Amanda was a sisterly figure who she was friendly with. Meanwhile, Fenrir was like her favorite teacher who only got to tutor her for a limited time.

“No need to be so formal with me, Fran. Teacher and I share the same body and soul.”

“But you’ve taught me so much.”

“Woof.”

“I just hope you’ll continue to work hard. I can’t get my powers back otherwise.”

“Hm! You got it!”

Fenrir smiled at her determination. “It sounds like I’m in good hands. Catch you later.”

“Hm. See you soon.”

“Woof!”

Fenrir placed his ghostly hands atop the heads of Fran and Jet. He couldn’t touch them of course, but the two seemed happy to receive the gesture. He smiled at them for a while before fading away. I knew that he had gone back to sleep inside me.

Good night, Fenrir. We’ll see him again someday.

“Hm! I’ll keep working hard until then.”

“Woof.”

A few days passed since Fenrir had returned inside me.

Today, Fran and Jet were out stalking monsters, fighting them, and then training by themselves. As for me, I was still stuck in the pedestal and I could only sense what they were doing using my Skills.

Skill Sharing had somehow advanced along with me getting stronger, increasing its effective distance. It could now reach all the way to the entrance of Area 4 without dropping. I wondered if it had something to do with the Garden and the pedestal.

I’d split up the Demon Wolf’s Garden into separate areas back when I was here alone, but the old rating system was pretty much irrelevant considering its current situation.

It doesn’t make much of a difference in Area 1, but all the monsters have gotten way stronger.

Before, Area 1 was home to goblins and weaker monsters. Areas 2 and 3 belonged to the F-Threats while Area 4 had E-Threats. Now, all the monsters that spawned there were one to two ranks higher.

D-Threats now spawned on the border of Areas 3 and 4. These used to only show up in the outer rim, Area 5, as area bosses. The Doppel Snake and Blast Tortoise, D-Threats I fought in the past, were two such area bosses.

Apparently, I was the reason behind them getting stronger—or rather, I was the reason they’d reverted to their original, mightier state.

Summoning and sealing me inside a sword required a lot of mana. The gods supplied most of the mana for the summoning and sealing process, but the pedestal actually took in mana from its surroundings. Probably because the gods of this world worked under various limitations; they couldn’t rely on the ritual to go smoothly otherwise.

In order to successfully reincarnate me, the gods made up for the lack of mana by cranking the mana drain within the barrier to its highest capacity. The overall mana in the Demon Wolf’s Garden had dropped back then, thereby spawning weaker monsters.

Honestly, the weakening of the local monsters had been a great boon to me. Not only was I able to survive the fights I got into, but I also got stronger. If the monsters had been as strong as usual, I probably would’ve been destroyed.

Even if I had somehow managed to survive the Demon Wolf’s Garden, it would’ve taken forever for me to leave. I could’ve been stuck here for years…and I wouldn’t have been able to meet Fran.

The Goddess of Chaos told me that destiny didn’t exist in this realm. That the future was something difficult to divine even for the gods. That everything was little more than a stack of coincidences.

Personally, I felt like my encounter with Fran was predestined. Was that just the Earthling in me talking?

Looks like they beat it.

Fran and Jet had been locked in combat for a while, but they finally gathered the materials of the monster they defeated and started heading home. They seemed pretty tired.

Welcome back. How’d it go?

“Hm. It was pretty strong.”

I see.

Fran was still getting used to her new weapon art-focused approach. As usual, she fought without my guidance with a weapon nowhere near as strong as I was. In her current state, fighting a D-Threat was back-breaking business. Fran had already healed most of her wounds but I could still see the marks. Her now-weathered armor was streaked with her own blood.

Jet looked even worse than Fran. He’d taken the initiative of fighting in close quarters and took a lot of damage because of it. His evasive abilities had always been top-notch, but he wasn’t great in melee combat. Monsters which specialized in defense and close combat were natural counters to the direwolf.

But there was probably a hidden reason as to why Jet was more heavily hurt than usual today. I suspect it was because of what Fenrir told him about evolution.

Jet could evolve into two species: the Gehenna Wolf, specialized in Deadly Venom Magic, or the Darknight Wolf, expert in Shadow Magic. Aside from their magic specializations, the two evolutions were quite alike. His stats wouldn’t increase much but he would gain many command Skills like Command and Leadership as well as Bird’s-Eye View and Eagle Eye to increase his battlefield awareness.

Jet’s stats would increase. He would become a B-Threat Lord-class monster, after all. But the bump in his stats wouldn’t be much compared to the lone wolf types like the Inferno Wolf and Valkyrie Wolf. One might even say he would be significantly weaker than those two—a hard pill for the direwolf to swallow.

I thought about finding a pack of wolf monsters for Jet to control, but he wanted to stand by Fran’s side to help her in battle. She was going to face even tougher enemies from here on out. He probably thought it would be difficult to hang back and support her from the rear. Our experience in the capital had taught him that much, and that was why he wanted to get stronger.

Fran understood how he felt. She would’ve been frustrated if someone had told her, “You won’t be much stronger as an evolved Black Cat. You’ll gain the ability to command other Black Cats, though.”

She could only silently watch over Jet as he pushed himself.

And how did Jet do?

“He worked really hard.”

I know, but it looks like it was a tough fight for him.

“Hm…the enemy was pretty strong.”

Fran told me how the fight went down. They’d battled a thick-scaled lizard monster with the proportions of a gorilla. Fran had nailed down its movements with Sword Arts so Jet could go from behind, tearing at the jugular for the kill. Unfortunately, his bite wasn’t enough to kill the creature, and it grabbed him and almost crushed him to death.

The monster was specialized in defense and had all the subtlety of a flying brick. Jet could’ve killed the creature alone without taking a scratch had he been patient, hung back and pelted it with spells. He should’ve let Fran deal the killing blow while supporting her. Instead, he rushed in for the kill.

He probably needed to do that in order to activate Predator. Jet had risked it all on that single Skill, but his recklessness only got him hurt this time.

Jet…

“Arf…”

Don’t look so down, boy. I’d never seen our happy-go-lucky wolf look so depressed, but I sympathized with his frustrations.

“Jet’s going to be a lot stronger, Teacher. He just needs a little more time.”

“Woof!”

I know, I get it. Trust me, I know how you feel, Jet.

“Arf?”

How could I not? I myself was stuck in this pedestal where the only thing I could do was watch. Just like Jet, I wanted to fight with Fran. But don’t be too reckless, all right?

“Hm. Okay.”

“Arf!”

Good. Now—

But my words were cut short by an unfamiliar voice that resounded inside of me.

Diagnosis complete. Commencing restoration process. Personality will go to sleep for the duration of the restoration process. Now cutting off communications with outside world.

The voice sounded more mechanical than P.A. did.

Wait, hold on! Sleep?

Fenrir didn’t tell me about this. The pedestal was starting to glow. This couldn’t be good.

Estimated time of completion: 150 days.

A hundred and fifty days?! I’m not ready! F-Fran! It looks like this is goodbye for now!

“Teacher?”

“Arf?”

I can’t talk during the restoration process! It’ll be done in 150 days! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would be so sudden!

“Teacher!”

“Bark!”

Good luck on your training, but take care of yourself! Don’t push yourself too hard! Get along with Jet! Listen to everything Amanda sa—

And then my consciousness went out.