Chapter 46 - The "Black-Clad" Guerilla Unit
To my delight, the reaction when I showed it to everyone, including Old Man, was exceptionally positive. The veteran fifth-year soldiers, who were now essentially the core of the guerilla unit, couldn't take their eyes off the swords and light armor crafted by Master.
"Th-this is... How were you able to prepare so many of these, Young Master?"
"I had them made. There’s no other way to put it. After consulting with the master blacksmith and conducting extensive research at the Alchemy Tower of the Magic Academy, it was confirmed that the metal I had been working with was equivalent to magic ore. So, I decided to utilize it. The items are also imbued with runes. The sword carries the rune of Sharpness, while the armor bears the rune of Toughness. While I want to ensure that this doesn’t lead to complacency, I believe this will significantly enhance the soldiers’ overall combat strength. That is all I wish for."
Old Man drew in a sharp breath. He picked up one of the magic swords from the table, scrutinized the blade, and sighed in awe. The leader of the fifth-year soldiers touched the chest plate of the light armor, his voice brimming with excitement as he addressed me.
"...Indeed, while the improved offense and defense might create some complacency... the concept of reinforcing only the vital areas with light armor instead of encumbering full-body heavy armor is brilliant. For the nature of the missions assigned to the guerilla unit, mobility cannot be ignored. Commander, from what I can see... both the sword and the armor seem to hold considerable power. What is your assessment?”
"Master says these are on par with natural magic ore-based magic swords and armor. However, these are not magical weapons that 'release flashy spells.' Instead, I’ve incanted them with Sharpness and Toughness to enhance their fundamental capabilities. I want to stress this point: magitech tools only hold meaning when there are people to wield them. For those who have honed their skills in swordsmanship, having weapons that allow them to fully realize their abilities is all that matters. After all, not everyone can become a magic knight, right?"
"Indeed... The possibility of friendly fire always exists, so that approach is unquestionably safer."
While listening to my conversation with the fifth-year soldier leader, Old Man, who never once took his gaze off the sword, quietly wove words. His voice carried a tone so solemn, it sounded almost like a prayer."
"Young Master, would you grant me permission to test this sword at the Fortress's training grounds?"
"That's fine... but the target will be the "remains of that insect-type magical beast that Second Brother" gave me. Is that acceptable?"
"Of course. The exoskeleton of that thing is incredibly durable. It has withstood countless practice strikes from the soldiers' skill arts. That’s precisely why I wish to test this sword on it. I need to know... if the skill arts of an old soldier like me still hold up."
"Old Man… Don’t overdo it. I know you have enough fighting spirit, but are you sure you’re up to it?"
"This blade... I’ve seen something like it before, back when the kingdom answered a provocation that His Majesty decided to confront head-on. During that campaign, I caught sight of it. If I recall correctly... it resembles the one carried by the commander of the Royal Knights. The same hue. That commander, with his incredible swordsmanship, was known by the title Black Knight of the Mighty Blade. The magic sword he wielded harbored flames, and with each swing, waves of fire would surge outward, mowing down his enemies. That was back when this old man was about as young as those fifth-year soldiers standing over there."
"...It’s not a magic sword, though. But still, test the Master’s craftsmanship for me, Old Man."
"With pleasure."
We all exited the Fortress’s office and headed toward the courtyard, which served as the training grounds. Over time, I had modified the area to suit specialized drills. Old Man had referred to a particular section of the training grounds—an area dedicated specifically to honing skill arts. By now, it wasn’t just the fifth-year soldiers; there were others who had mastered skill arts and were capable of engaging in battle as well.
The Fortress's training area was built to endure intense trials, as the regular targets used in the training grounds of the knightly family’s estate in the town were too fragile and would easily break. It was used somewhat like a qualification test. Those who demonstrated their skill arts here were assessed by the fifth-year soldiers to determine if their techniques could withstand real combat. In fact, the new soldiers had shown remarkable growth, to the point where they no longer could be considered mere recruits after repeated deployments.
Some of the new soldiers were capable of displaying skill arts that even the fifth-year soldiers respect. In terms of strengthening combat capabilities, this place was of great importance.
As such, it was also the perfect venue to evaluate the performance of the magic sword. Moreover, only those deemed skilled enough would be its user. Old Man... the frontier man appointed by Father as my mentor was one of those worthy users. A bearer of supreme skill arts, achieved through endless refinement and dedication. A man who, due to his limited mana reserves, honed his "Skill," Swordsman, to perfection.
Though age had slightly diminished his physical strength, his swordsmanship remained as sharp and precise as ever. That’s why I granted him permission to test the sword. We followed Old Man as he carried the incanted blade to the colossal remains of the insectoid magical beast resting in the corner of the courtyard. Standing before the creature’s massive carcass, Old Man faced it with a quiet intensity. This beast, despite enduring countless skill arts, showed no signs of significant damage beyond a few superficial scratches on its formidable exoskeleton.
"Let us begin."
With those words, Old Man stood with the sword in hand, exuding an aura so powerful it defied his age, as he channeled his fighting spirit through his body. Waves of intense pressure radiated from him. Then, a shriek-like cry erupted from Old Man's mouth—
"Ssh!"
He cleaved the insectoid beast's head in two. The severed edge was unnaturally smooth and clean... as if the beast had been sliced with a thread through clay. Even Old Man himself appeared stunned. He alternated his gaze between the sword in his hand and the flawless cut on the creature’s remains, his expression one of disbelief.
"Young Master, please convey my gratitude to the master blacksmith. This is a remarkable piece. A blade that doesn’t chip and can effortlessly cut through an exoskeleton with one stroke. To think that every soldier in the guerilla unit will be equipped with such gear. And with armor made of the same material for the chest and back... Considering the countless missions carried out at the cost of many lives, it... it moves me to tears."
"If it earns such high praise from you, I’ll urge Master to speed up production. We’ll do our utmost to equip everyone as soon as possible. The rest of you should try them out as well. Test the light armor over there with the armor stand. See if there are any conflicts between the magic swords and armor. According to Master, in emergencies, these swords can cut through the armor, but we should confirm it ourselves."
"""Understood!"""
This marked the dawn of a new era for the infantry’s equipment. The long-awaited improvement in safety during close combat had finally come to fruition. Thanks to Master’s ingenuity and perseverance, my guerilla unit’s survivability had been significantly enhanced. If the trial runs proved successful, we could refine the design further. The results might even pave the way for these items to be adopted by the guard unit and the main force.
One of my wishes had been fulfilled: securing decisive strength in close-quarters combat, ensuring both ranged and melee capability, and ultimately protecting the soldiers’ lives. This would lead to the safety and peace of the people who lived in this land. It was a good thing.
Even better, the raw material for the equipment—artificial magic ore—could be mass-produced by Master and me. It was made from inexpensive black iron mixed with magic powder and crystal powder. As long as the two of us worked together, we could produce as much as we needed.
That said, even with the recipe for the mixture, without "someone possessing Craftsman Skill and the internal mana of at least a count’s rank," producing the base mixed black iron would be impossible. In other words, the ingots of artificial magic ore were a proprietary product of the knightly family, protected under our patent rights.
However, submitting a patent application to the kingdom required careful thought. I’d need to consult Mother first. I could already picture her delighted expression. Still, it wasn’t something I could handle alone. Knowing her, she might decide to keep the technique a secret. After all, the impact on the mines currently producing natural magic ore would be too great, and the number of workers involved and the nobles connected to them was, in fact, vast.
I had to proceed cautiously.
In any case, I had decided to leave the decision to Mother. The consequences could manifest in ways I couldn’t even anticipate. After all, I couldn't predict what might happen outside the scope of my understanding.
Yes, that's for the best. I’ll leave it to Mother.
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