I Pull Out Excalibur - I Pull Out Excalibur chapter 5

5 – The Prelude to Civil War (1)

Early in the morning, Nagine headed to the blacksmith.

It was because his usual sword was rendered useless. He vaguely remembered when he was cleaning Trick City’s tavern a while ago, the teeth of the blade had all fallen out.

“But it’s a bit strange.”

Even before cleaning Trick City’s tavern, it was perfectly fine when he received sword training from Open. If the condition of the sword was strange, Open would have said something.

“It’s a bit suspicious that it got damaged during a fight.”

The sword he used to fight a few scoundrels who were waiting at the tavern wasn’t of such poor quality that it would break easily. He had taken the best sword from the blacksmith. Nagine scratched the back of his head as he couldn’t find a proper reason.

“Ugh…”

If he just goes, Hoggle would probably say something again.

It had only been a month since he received the sword, so he felt a little guilty about going back so soon.

Najin stopped in her tracks.

Lost in thought while walking, she had unwittingly arrived at her destination. It was the edge of Ivan’s domain, a forge nestled on the boundary line between the domains, adjacent to the realm of the land spider, Horsey. It was Hogel’s forge, the forge of inspiration.

Clang, clank!

The resounding echoes of metal striking metal.

A wave of intense heat rushed forth.

Najin exhaled briefly before stepping into the forge. There, an elderly blacksmith, Choro, was hammering away, his back turned.

“What’s the matter, young one?”

Hogel, the owner of the forge, glanced at Najin as he turned his head.

“What brings you here again? It hasn’t been long since you took the sword. Did Ivan need the sword again?”

“Um… that’s not it.”

Najin attempted an awkward smile.

“It’s about that sword you gave me last time.”

Hogel glanced at Najin’s waist.

After confirming his creation bound there, the old man put down his hammer and lifted the corners of his lips.

“A rather meticulously crafted piece. It was the finest among the ones I’ve hammered out over these years. Why, is the blade too keen causing problems?”

“It seems defective.”

“What?”

Hogel widened his eyes.

Najin drew the sword from her waist and handed it to the old man. As Hogel received the sword, his eyes widened a bit more. The once sharp and smoothly shining edge was nowhere to be found; instead, the blade looked worn and chipped, akin to the old man’s worn-out teeth.

“You… you…”

Hogel’s hand holding the sword trembled.

“How on earth did you manage to turn a sword into this mess? Are you using it to hammer away like a blacksmith?”

“Oh, come on, no way.”

Although she had notched a few skulls with the blade’s edge, she had never used it as a hammer. As Najin shrugged, Hogel inspected the sword from all angles.

“This sword—it’s been in your possession for barely a month.”

“Quite a lot in just a month.”

“Crazy.”

“Why swear like that?”

“Those who know their swords, they last for years, with good care. You’re forgetting that, treating a sword in monthly intervals as normal…”

Hogel stopped talking, lips sealed.

His hand, which had been turning the sword in various angles, ceased its movement. He had discovered something amidst the mess that was the blade.

“Najin.”

“Yes, Master Hogel?”

“Have you ever lent a sword to Ivahn or Offen?”

“No? Never. But why?”

Ignoring Najin’s puzzled expression, Hogel brushed the blade with his fingers. The touch made him furrow his brow.

A swollen and slightly discolored blade.

He knew exactly what this meant.

A phenomenon he’d experienced often in the upper district but had forgotten amidst this city, where occurrences were rare. When a novice wielded a sword that had been carefully tempered by a skilled smith, this was the result.

“…”

Hogel glanced silently at Najin.

Only two people in this city knew how to draw out the blade’s essence: Offen and Ivahn. Unless this lad had borrowed a sword from them, it meant he had drawn out the blade’s essence himself.

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At such a young age? And in an underground city like this, where there were no proper mentors?

Squinting at Najin, Hogel eventually averted his gaze. Whether this lad was a prodigy or not, capable of drawing out a sword’s essence, wasn’t his concern. A blacksmith’s job was only to forge iron.

Swoosh.

He rolled up his sleeves.

The old man’s lips curved into a smile at the thought of properly tempering a sword again. Tidying away the tools he had taken out for sharpening and tossing Najin’s offered sword into the corner of the workshop.

“What… why not sharpen it?”

“It needs to be properly damaged before it’s sharpened. Wait for me to make a new one.”

“Can’t I take one of those hanging there?”

Najin pointed at the swords on the wall.

Hogel looked at Najin with a perplexed expression, as if he’d eaten a bug. Does he know what he’s saying? Or is he ignorant?

“Would I risk a blade like that to someone who draws out the essence? Rather ruin a sword in less than a month than risk handing over one. I’ll make you a new one.”

“What? Essence?”

Najin blinked.

“Master, how do I draw the sword when I still don’t know how to handle mana?”

“Why does the sword look like this then?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

If you don’t know that, who will?

They exchanged such expressions. Hogel turned his head first. The kid didn’t seem to be teasing himself, probably just unaware.

“Anyway…”

Hogel muttered, stoking the forge’s flames.

“This one will fetch a high price.”

This was Artman, an underground city. Even if they made a proper sword, there was no one to use it, so they settled for a simple one. But if a swordsman who knew how to draw the blade was a customer, the story changed a bit.

“Because I intend to make it properly.”

“Wow, so you’ve only given me defective ones until now?”

There was a reason they kept breaking.

As Najin grumbled, Hogel aimed the heated hammer at Najin, reddened with anger.

“Before I use this not on metal but on your head, shut up and sit right there.”

“Yes.”

Najin, with a smack of the lips, took a seat in a corner.

2.

“Come to think of it.”

Clang, clang.

As Hogel hammered the steel, he spoke up.

“I had something to tell Ivan, but since you’re here, I’ll tell you instead.”

“To Ivan? What is it?”

“These days, those Horsey folks keep crossing the line. Not just lingering at the border, they push right into the shop.”

…Into the shop?

Najin frowned.

“As customers, or?”

“If they came as customers, they wouldn’t act like this.”

The old man shook his head wearily.

“They demand tribute. Claiming nearly half their area belongs to them, they insist on tribute from our side too. It’s a ridiculous tale, really.”

Half, Horsene, Hakan.

Long before they drew lines in the underground city and began playing the land-grabbing game, the elderly had already settled here and were conducting business. Now, if someone were to come and complain that the location of the shop was wrong, there would be no understanding.

“Did they make threats?”

“Managed to gather a few swords. And added that it wouldn’t be fun if the tribute wasn’t paid.”

“Hmm.”

Najin rubbed her jaw.

“A bit shameless, isn’t it? No, what confidence is this?”

This was unquestionably Ivan’s territory.

Naturally, this blacksmith shop was also under Ivan’s protection. It had been agreed upon after the civil war, and it had been maintained for nearly a decade.

And now, they were raising objections?

It seemed like nothing more than a complaint. Najin couldn’t quite understand that fact. Wasn’t it Horsene who was pushed out by Ivan in a big way during the civil war ten years ago? Provoking Ivan wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Moreover, the difference in power must be significant.”

Horsene, the ground spider, was undoubtedly a formidable force against Ivan, but on Ivan’s side, there was the presence of Offen. Two sword experts who had reached the level of a Sword Exper, it wouldn’t be an easily reversible power difference.

“It’s strange. I’ll talk to Ivan about it.”

“Sure. That’s your business.”

Thud, clang.

Hogel, who was hammering away, glanced at the clock.

“Since they said they’re coming today, at least take a look and go. After all, I’m paying you guys the tribute.”

“Can you handle it? My value is quite high.”

“What?”

Najin chuckled.

“I’m a direct hound of Ivan. After I’m used once, the tribute will skyrocket. Are you okay with that?”

“Hmm. You guys seem heartless. Do you remember how many swords you’ve taken for free until now?”

“It’s a joke, a joke.”

Najin shrugged.

It was originally a joke, and this time, it was a matter that had to be dealt with without compensation. The mediation of conflicts between organizations, rather than individual disputes, was naturally something that had to be handled by them.

“Master, can I borrow something to swing around right away? It’s a bit awkward to beat someone with bare hands.”

“I’m not saying you can’t do it.”

“If you tell me to do it, there’s nothing I can’t do.”

Hogel laughed as if amazed.

“Start writing this immediately. It might take some time for what I’m currently creating to be completed.”

Hogel tossed a sword to Najin. It was an old and rusty sword that seemed to have been neglected in a corner of the warehouse for a long time.

“It’s a bit heavy, isn’t it?”

“It’s the sword that Ivan used in the past. It’s heavier because the ore ratio is different. But it should still be usable for a while.”

It was sturdy, indeed.

After saying that, Hogel focused on his blacksmithing work. The sound of hammering filled the workshop. Leaving the old man immersed in forging, Najin sat on a chair in a corner of the workshop.

And then, he contemplated.

Najin took out a crumpled hat from his pocket. A postal worker’s hat. It was a disguise hat that Najin used when he wanted to hide his face.

3.

About an hour or two passed.

There was a commotion outside the workshop. Najin lowered his head and peered outside, only rolling his eyes. Six men with strong builds were approaching the workshop with heavy footsteps, proudly displaying their scars from being beaten or stabbed.

Judging from their arrival from Horsay’s territory, they appeared to be the members of Horsay’s organization that Hogel had mentioned. Najin lowered his head further and pushed his hat a little deeper.

“Hogel, mentor!”

A boisterous voice. The man who stood at the front and rushed into the workshop shouted loudly. There were three men who entered the shop, and three more outside.

“What about the tribute you mentioned last time? Did you prepare it well?”

No matter what he said, Hogel only swung his hammer. The man who was treated as non-existent clenched his expression tightly and kicked away whatever came under his feet.

“This old man only knows how to forge, has he gone deaf? Didn’t you hear me? I asked if you prepared the tribute. If you don’t have the money, I’ll take all the swords here.”

He gestured to his subordinate who followed behind him.

The subordinate placed the box he was carrying on the ground with a thud.

“Hey, mentor. If you don’t give us the tribute, we’ll take all the swords here. Remember that.”

They boasted while putting up a show of force.

Eventually, they approached where Najin was sitting. Glancing at Najin, who sat with his head lowered, they smirked.

A young boy, with his head down and wearing a postal worker’s hat. He looked as if he was scared, with his head deeply buried and unable to meet anyone’s gaze. One of the men kicked the chair on which Najin was sitting.

“Hey, kid. Can’t you see that we’re talking? Can’t you leave quickly? Disrespectful brat.”

The man raised his arm and struck Najin’s head.

Once, twice, and thrice. There was no fourth. It was because Najin tightly grabbed the man’s wrist.

“Huh, look at this. Has this coward lost his nerve?”

The man’s words didn’t continue until the end.

Even though he exerted force in his arm, the boy did not react at all. Amidst the murmurs of the comrades who hadn’t grasped the situation and were complaining about being pushed by that little brat.

“Hey, wait a moment. This is more than…”

The man whose wrist was caught by Najin broke into a cold sweat. The caught wrist throbbed with pain, turning pale as blood struggled to flow through. At the moment the man with a twisted expression tried to draw a knife empty-handed,

Thunk!

A bone-twisting sound echoed.

“Shut up, shuuaaack!”

The man’s wrist twisted grotesquely.

In the sudden turn of events, his comrades couldn’t react immediately. A few blinks, a few breaths. And belatedly, the sound of a drawn knife and screams.

In the midst of the sudden chaos, Najin shifted her gaze.

Najin’s gaze was not directed at the men standing in front of her but at the owner of this blacksmith shop, Master Hogel. The old man who received her gaze glanced back briefly and spoke briefly.

“Go outside and fight. Don’t mess up the shop.”

With those words, Hogel continued hammering.

Najin turned her head again and twisted the caught man’s wrist a bit more. With a scream, saliva dripped from the man’s mouth.

“That’s what he said.”

Now kneeling down, Najin slowly twisted the man’s wrist, who was now screaming down to his knees.

“Shall we go outside and fight?”

“This crazy bastard!”

Facing the charging men, Najin reached behind and extended her hand. Simultaneously gripping the hidden knife handle behind her back, Najin kicked the chair and stood up.

Thud.

Najin kicked the man in the face, whose wrist she held, with her knee, sending him tumbling. A slashing sound, and then a cracking sound. The sound of the blade coming out of the scabbard and the sound of cutting echoed simultaneously.

Chaak.

The arm of the man who was swinging an axe at Najin was cut off along with the handle, without a hitch.

“Uh, uhaaack! My, my arm!”

A belated scream, pouring blood.

In the midst of the chaos, as the subordinate hesitated, Najin’s hand grasped his face behind, and with a crunch, his head hit the blacksmith’s shelf. Along with the deeply dented shelf, the subordinate’s pupils rolled back. Najin, who casually tossed the collapsed subordinate aside, glanced at the man screaming with his arm severed.

Blood scattered everywhere.

The shelf shattered like a smashed head.

Even the man screaming for the blacksmith to leave.

“hehehe.”

Jin scratched the back of his neck, surveying the chaotic scene, and muttered under his breath. “What a mess.”

“Let’s go out and fight,” he suggested.

But why didn’t they listen?

Swish!

Jin brought down the sharp edge of his knife on the man’s jaw, causing him to let out a scream.

“Oh…”

The man’s eyes rolled back.

Finally, Jin grabbed hold of the now quiet man’s hair and dragged him towards the exit of the blacksmith.

Three men remained outside.

And among them was the one who seemed to be in charge.