Chapter 26: Sleet

“Unni?”

Sharen called out in a barely audible voice. She was so taken aback by the sight before her that she doubted it could be real.

By any common sense…

Why would Rihanna be here?

“Sharen, you’re here.”

But the moment those few words fell from Rihanna’s lips, Sharen froze on the spot. This was unmistakably the real Rihanna Helmut. That unmistakable aura of lethal intent—one only her older sister possessed—filled the room, impossible to deny.

‘Kelsey!’

Sharen signaled for help from her lady-in-waiting, but all Kelsey could do was lower her head, just as powerless as Sharen felt.

“Uh, Unni? How…how did you get here?”

“Does that really matter right now?”

“Y-yes, it does! Father will be furious if he finds out you’re here!”

“Sure, I guess he would.”

Rihanna nodded.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

She looked as though she genuinely couldn’t care less. Normally, Rihanna would be cautious of Arandel’s scrutiny—this was a stark contrast to her usual self.

‘What’s going on?’

That only left Sharen even more flustered. It was as if Rihanna had deliberately come here to incur the family head’s wrath.

“Sharen.”

Whatever the reason, Sharen could sense that her sister was quite angry right now.

‘Why am I the one who’s scared?!’

Sharen, facing Rihanna’s strangely ominous demeanor, chose to handle her sister just like she always did.

“What’s the matter, Unni? You must have a good reason for coming all this way, right?!”

“A-Ah, My Lady…” Kelsey tried to interrupt.

“Stay out of this, Kelsey. I’m here at the Malidan Barrier as the official representative of the Helmut family. But Unni, you’re disobeying Father’s orders by doing this! I have every right to—!”

“Did you enjoy the time you spent with Isaac?”

“Uh, unni..”

Sharen instantly wilted, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

“You know, Sharen. Isaac is my husband.”

“……”

She wanted to add “for now,” but Rihanna’s menacing aura was too overwhelming for Sharen to say another word.

“To outsiders, it probably just looks like a brother-in-law and sister-in-law getting along.”

Rihanna slowly approached, her red eyes gleaming softly in the darkness.

“But I know how you really feel about him.”

“U-Unni?”

Half in tears, Sharen looked up at Rihanna.

“Don’t do it, Sharen.”

Rihanna gently plucked a stray lock of hair stuck to Sharen’s cheek, letting out a bitter sigh.

“I don’t want Isaac to suffer any more because of the Helmut family.”

“Unni?”

Only now that she was close could Sharen finally glimpse the emotions stirring in her sister’s heart.

“It’s time to stop—”

Deep regret. Yet, a regret that cannot simply let go…

“Let him go.”

…Because she loves him that much.

“...Unni, you—”

Sharen couldn’t hide her confusion. Why on earth would Rihanna defy even Arandel Helmut’s orders and come all the way here?

“Why are you here?”

At those words, Rihanna responded only with a pained smile, offering no further explanation.

****

“I know.”

“Pardon?”

“I said, I know. I already know.”

“…What are you talking about?”

“It’s nothing. It’s not a big deal. I just have to treat him like a friend, right?”

“You’re talking to yourself?”

Anna watched Silverna in confusion as she muttered to herself over and over.

‘What’s with her all of a sudden?’

“This isn’t like me. Right, I should not make it awkward.”

Anna wondered why Silverna was acting so strangely—so unlike her usual self. In a twist of irony, the puzzle was soon solved.

“Are you an idiot?! You call yourself a Helmut knight when you can barely wield that demonic steel sword?!”

“S-sorry!”

“……”

The next morning, at the training grounds: Sharen was berating Jonathan over his sword usage, calling it pathetic.

Meanwhile, Isaac stood nearby, jotting something down in a notebook as he observed the two. By this point, it was utterly normal—almost expected—to see him with a pen in hand, taking notes.

Maybe he was researching something about the Helmut’s swordsmanship. He listened to Sharen’s lectures with fierce concentration, scribbling diligently.

“Ahem, Isaac?” Silverna approached him awkwardly.

“Ah, Silverna.”

Isaac, after briefly greeting both of them, spoke first—before Silverna, who seemed hesitant to say what was on her mind.

“Do you happen to have a hair tie? My hair’s gotten longer than I expected.”

“Now that you mention it, yes, it has.”

His hair nearly touched his shoulders in the back. Anna pulled a spare hair tie from her belongings.

“Do you know how to tie it yourself?”

“Sure, somewhat.”

In his previous life, he’d spent a lot of time cooped up writing, and whenever his hair grew long, he’d simply tie it back in a short ponytail.

Once Isaac neatly tied his hair, Silverna stared down at him with a vexed expression.

“I-I… I want to die!”

“…What?”

“M-My Lady?” Anna interjected, concerned.

Silverna’s face turned crimson as though she desperately wanted to say something. But she simply clamped a hand over her mouth, swallowing back the words.

“Go see the blacksmith! I already told him you’d be coming, so he’s expecting you!”

“Oh! Right, the thing from yesterday!”

Glad for the excuse, Isaac leapt to his feet and hurried toward the smithy, oblivious to the way Silverna and Anna both watched his retreating back.

The Malidan smithy was tucked away in the farthest corner of the fortress wall. Blame the hammering noise and the pungent smells—it had been inevitably pushed to the outskirts. Yet at this frontline, it was one of the most vital facilities.

It was also, without question, the warmest place in these northern parts.

.

.

.

“You look like someone who’ll make plenty of women cry.”

“Excuse me?”

No sooner had Isaac stepped inside than he was met with the blacksmith’s sarcastic remark.

The blacksmith clicked his tongue and waved his hammer in disapproval.

“So they want me to forge a sword for some milquetoast fellow like you? Lady Silverna must be out of her mind.”

“You realize I’m a guest here, right? A little courtesy would be nice.”

“A blacksmith is a man of obstinacy and stubbornness, hammering metal by sheer will. I reserve the right to choose who gets to wield the weapons I craft—don’t you agree?”

“So you’re not worried about the money?”

“Why else do you think my wife nags at me all the time?”

The blacksmith let out a raucous laugh, “Haha.”

Even in this northern climate, he wore only a sleeveless shirt, revealing arms covered in burns and knife scars.

“Well, Silverna said as much, so I trust you’ll forge my sword.”

“Tch, guess I don’t have much choice.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Blacksmiths of his caliber often had crude personalities, but their skill spoke for itself. They were artists at heart—considering each weapon a personal masterpiece—so no matter who their client was, they poured every ounce of talent into crafting the best they possibly could.

Since he was affiliated with Caldias, his skills were guaranteed. Living on the front lines meant swinging a hammer every day with no rest; naturally, one would grow immensely capable.

Behind him, several apprentices bustled about, each exuding a flair that marked them as future masters in the making.

“I brought a blueprint with me,” Isaac said.

The blacksmith snatched the design from Isaac’s hands, snorting in derision.

“Ha! This is a load of nonsense! Craft a sword off some amateur’s blueprint—!”

Halfway through his outburst, the blacksmith’s tongue froze. His apprentices, pausing their hammering, glanced over curiously—apparently, they had never seen him react this way before.

He stared at the design for a long moment, then slowly lifted his gaze to Isaac. The gray in his eyes took on a gravitas, a weight that hadn’t been there before.

“…Did you come up with this yourself?”

“To be precise, it’s not entirely my own idea. I had plenty of advice.”

For a swordsman, a sword is indispensable—choosing a quality blade is part of a swordsman’s training. In his past life, Isaac hadn’t only studied swordsmanship; once you start delving into swordsmanship, you naturally learn about weapon craftsmanship, too.

He had sought out the teachings and advice of countless blacksmiths on sword design.

“It’s an unusual blade.”

“Technically speaking, it’s a ‘dao*,’” Isaac replied.

“A dao? Huh, that’s interesting. It’s similar to your current Falchion, but different.”

Isaac gave a bitter smile.

This design was originally used by the transcendents.

“It looks like it’d be useless in a guard-to-guard clash. Might be light, sure, but with the blade so thin, it’d lose in a show of brute strength.”

“That’s exactly why I’m choosing this design. I’m not that strong.”

He confessed plainly, acknowledging his own limits.

“Swing it around a few times and it’ll probably snap in half.”

“Then it means the blacksmith messed up, doesn’t it?”

“Haha.”

“That’s why I’m entrusting it to the best blacksmith. Unless you don’t think you’re up to the task—I can always look elsewhere.”

“What a childish way to provoke someone.”

The blacksmith grinned, balling his fists.

“And I’m a pretty childish guy myself.”

He had lived as a blacksmith for many years, never shying from a challenge—hence how he’d become who he was today.

“Just sit tight. I’ll need a few trials and errors at least.”

“Sounds good.”

There was still some time before the great den would dissipate, so Isaac planned to cooperate fully to ensure the blacksmith had what he needed to craft the blade.

As he turned to head back into the forge with the blueprint, he stopped abruptly to ask one last question:

“But… you’re from Helmut, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And they’re okay with you not using a greatsword? Doesn’t seem like something Helmut would allow.”

Isaac let out a small laugh.

“A sword’s purpose is to cut, isn’t it?”

“Hm?”

“The moment I hold a greatsword, it stops being a sword to me—it’s just dead weight.”

“…”

“I need a true sword.”

After Isaac’s resolute declaration, the blacksmith regarded him in silence for a moment before stepping forward to offer his hand.

“The name’s Antonio. Remember it, since I’m the man who’ll put a real sword in your hand.”

“I’m Isaac.”

*****

Once Isaac had left the training grounds…

“Hey, you idiot! You can’t even manage this?! I’m telling you, this is the basics!”

“S-sorry!”

While Jonathan whimpered under Sharen’s stern tutelage, Anna discreetly sidled up beside Silverna.

“My Lady, are you alright?”

“Anna.”

Silverna’s lips trembled a moment before she let out a murmured confession.

“You were right.”

“My Lady?”

“I… I think I l-like him.”

“…!”

Anna’s eyes went wide, and she quickly glanced around. Sharen and Jonathan were wrapped up in their own thing, and the only other person in sight was a maid wearing a mask—far enough away not to overhear them.

“My Lady, please don’t tell anyone else how you feel. You know that, right?”

“I know… That’s why I’m only telling you.”

“Haa.. He’s already a married man—and a Helmut at that. Love is a beautiful thing, but you know there are plenty of sad stories about people whose situations were ruined by it, don’t you?”

“Mm.”

Silverna drooped, her shoulders sagging. Anna embraced her, gently patting her back.

“Oh, my poor Lady… what are we going to do?”

“Anna… I’m strange, aren’t I?”

“No, My Lady. There’s no stopping love once it’s in your heart. It’s just… it’s just—”

Anna, thinking it over, swallowed hard and replied with a little sob:

“It’s only a little… just a little too late.”

A heavy weight settled in Silverna’s chest, like a stone pressing down on her heart.

It was fortunate that she had the rest of the day to herself. She planned to spend it sorting through her emotions.

‘Haa… The heavens can be cruel.’

The first snowfall in her heart…

Why did it have to be sleet—a biting mix of rain and snow?

– – – The End of The Chapter – – –

[TL: Dao - It’s a traditional Chinese single-edged sword known for its curved blade, designed primarily for slashing and chopping in combat.

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