Zeni, the human who had ascended to divinity, had 3 swords.

Seawater flooded the streets, carriage and stalls were toppled and damaged by harsh winds, and buildings were clawed by the storm. Though men worked together to repair and salvage what they could, each had a depressed expression. The skystorm had passed yesterday, but it would come back again today.

‘The skystorm this year is the worst,’ said one man who looked at the floating remains of his carriage.

‘It hasn’t even reached its peak yet,’ said another with tears welling.

‘Goodness…’

Vod walked through the flooded street, his uniform’s trouser drenched and soiled until the ankles. His face remained impassive even as he saw the people’s sufferings; the gray-haired swordsman didn’t bother caring. “Void” was a nickname he had earned due to his indifference, often used by his mother with the intent of mockery.

What’s the point? he thought. Why should he care?

Vod shook his head, getting rid of the thought, and continued following the street. He had revised his fight against Kokuri in his head and identified his mistakes right after the battle yesterday. Now, he was planning on how to immobilize Kokuri quicker by tweaking his sword style to match her. Surprise attack had worked on her, as evidenced by one of the Hawk squad members stabbing her through her chest. That would mean that Vod had to add a surprise attack to his style. He had an idea on how to do that; and would test it out on a spar with Ignes.

He stopped in front of a blacksmith’s shop. The place had an open front to ventilate air, swords inside wooden barrels and some hung on the wall, a furnace to burn metal, tools all over the place in an orderly manner, and a counter where the blacksmith stayed around to design swords on paper in the morning.

As Vod entered the blacksmith’s shop, his footsteps tapped on the ground with little splash. He could quieten his gait at will, but the easiest way to gain attention was to make sounds. His footsteps gained the blacksmith’s attention and he shifted his gaze from the paper to him.

The man’s eyes opened fully upon seeing Vod.

‘You!’ He was approaching his fifties and his voice still had its vigor. ‘You!’ the second one had vengeance hinted in the tone. Then he blurted out all the curses and swears at Vod. Some were new to him; and Vod had no idea what they meant.

‘Lobb,’ he still approached the counter despite all the hatred he threw at him, ‘I need swords.’

‘No.’

‘The previous ones broke.’

‘What?’ he shouted. ‘All of them?’

‘Save for a few unused ones.’

‘Void, you stole 3 barrels of swords from my shop last week! Not only that, you broke most of them! Abominable sword murderer!’

‘I had needed swords, Lobb. And I left behind payment thrice-fold the prices you set.’

‘The problem being: I do not want to sell you any of my swords! You don’t understand Void! These swords are crafted by dedicating my soul to them, they’re essentially my children! And what kind of parent would send his swords to battle only for it to be broken in a few swings by some mad swordsman? A swordsman who doesn’t care for his sword!’

Vod replied in a calm; heavy tone, ‘If I care, will they stop breaking?’ If caring was all it takes, then Vod would have done it. But the truth was: whether or not he cared, nothing would change.

Lobb stared at him in the eyes. Contempt, hatred, anger, all of it was there in the blacksmith’s eyes. Vod however, knew that all Lobb would see reflected in his eyes were just void. He had stopped caring long ago; because it did nothing.

‘… You could have swung the sword with less might.’

‘The opponent is strong enough to kill my father; I can’t afford to give less than my all. Not against such opponent.’

‘…’ Lobb was silent for a while. He then sighed and shook his head. He whispered, ‘And the swords just have to favor you...’ He made a reluctant hand gesture that told Vod to go on ahead.

Vod, without dwelling on it, went to the barrels of swords. He carefully looked at the swords, lifted them and inspected them one by one. He avoided swords that would most likely break in just one swing and placed them on another barrel.

Breaking the swords after a few swings was, in Vod’s mind, a weakness. Despite that however, his father had praised him for his so called “perfect swing” and insisted that he continued swinging his sword like that. He had insisted that so long as Vod continued that way, he would one day be chosen by one of Zenn’s three swords. But I won’t be chosen, he thought.

Vod continued picking the sword, separating the swords that would break from one swing and those that would not to different barrels. He considered the material the sword was made of, the length, the type, and all the things that could factor to how easily the sword would break. When he finally had made a barrelful of swords, he decided that those should be enough, since he still had the intact swords he had yet to use.

As he walked toward the counter, Vod noticed that another customer had entered the store. He didn’t notice her presence at all. Had he been too focused on choosing the swords?

She had placed her sword on the counter, a katana with an elegant white sheathe.

‘She’s a beauty,’ Lobb said whilst rubbing his chin. ‘Elegant, pretty, loved, and… in pain. That’s the reason she’s here. May I?’

The young woman with violet hair nodded. Her hair almost reached her shoulder.

Lobb lifted the sword carefully with both hands; as if carrying a fragile living being. His eyes glittered with admiration upon looking at the sword and he whistled amazement upon having a closer look. He bobbed the sword to check the weight; and it seemed light in Vod’s eyes.

He then unsheathed the sword slowly and revealed a black blade with specks of white, like stars in a blackened sky. Though black, it might appear white when swung because of those specks.

Vod walked with a silenced step toward the counter. He didn’t want to ruin the moment; and he would like a better look at the sword. Noticing that he was close, the young woman glanced her amethyst eyes over her shoulder, spotting Vod. Their eyes met.

‘Altune?’ Lobb tapped the blade. Vod averted his eyes toward the sword. Lobb had placed the sheathe on the counter and was inspecting the sword, holding the handle with both hands and admiring the blade. ‘Interesting choice…’

Vod was now at the counter, beside the young woman. Being close to her was—unsettling. She might not have the build, but her posture was of a refined swordswoman. Relaxed, calm, yet ready to fight. Her back was straight, her hold on the ground was steady, and her center of balance was perfect. Beautiful. Both she and the sword.

‘She’s slightly bent,’ Lobb assessed. ‘Not obvious, but it’s there. You’ve used her to block blows… strong blows. I—I need to communicate with her.’ He grabbed the sheathe and was looking toward his anvil.

‘Lobb,’ Vod called, he didn’t want to wait for him.

‘Shut it, Void.’ He placed the sword on the anvil and grabbed his tools. Lobb was then off on a world of his own. A world where he spoke with swords and where the swords spoke back to him. That was how he had described it.

Vod wondered if he should just leave the payment behind and grab the barrelful of swords.

‘Sorry,’ the swordswoman said to him.

‘It’s not a problem.’

She eyed his uniform, then asked, ‘Are you from the sanctum?’

***

Dunnford hardly believed that the woman standing in front of him was Brig.

When he had met her yesterday, she was like a wild beast with mane for hair. Now, she had tied and braided her hair. When her eyes didn’t lurk from the gap of her hair, those crimson looked like ruby rather than a furious beast.

‘Brig,’ he greeted.

‘Dunn-y,’ her voice was sobber. Good.

‘Where are the others?’ Dunnford looked at the sanctum’s open training field. There were amateurs training and sparring; along with people who belonged to squads here today. However, other than Brig and another man, Dunnford couldn’t spot another with the Hawk symbol emblem.

Ray was doing a warmup with Ignes and Elaine was sitting on a bench looking tired.

‘Wald,’ Brig called the man who belonged in the Hawk squad, ‘do you know where the others are?’

‘Hm?’ He had a black moustache and tanned skin, with a nonchalant demeanor. ‘Fun story, actually. So, a little fish appeared before them last night and tempted them to drown in alcohol. Which they did.’

‘Little fish?’

‘Well, not actually a little fish, I just thought it would sound fun. Anyway, it’s Drizzle. He told them where he stored his fire wine and said they could have them. Couldn’t tell what the madman thinks, but as fishy as that sound, even I would have jumped at it honestly.’

‘He told them his stash? And I didn’t get to hear this?’

‘They told me to invite you, but I thought—’

‘Invite me next time.’

‘Roger that.’

Dunnford cleared his throat. This gained Brig and Wald’s attention. ‘I’m not against drinking,' Kadas, being a fire wine addict, must have not regulated this type of behavior, ‘but save it for after the matter with the monster worshippers is resolved.’

Brig and Wald didn’t seem to care. In fact, it seemed that his words went one ear in and out another.

Dunnford sighed. ‘So there are only you two here?’

‘Some are late perhaps.’

‘Too wasted most likely,’ Wald added.

‘Or that.’

Dunnford would have sighed again, but then it would become a habit.

He would have to work with what he had at the moment. At least, since he managed to get Brig on his side, the others should feel more comfortable with Dunnford. He believed that Wald, at least, had refrained himself from drinking so that he could come here this morning. Not a great start, but it was a start regardless.

‘Let’s begin with a spar,’ Dunnford said.

***

The violet-haired woman’s name was Freya, she had introduced herself to Vod.

Vod was walking beside her in the alleyway of Lune. Though the alleyway was a confusing path, she wasn’t puzzled by the twists and turns and knew her way through it. When he had asked how she could tell the way, she said that there was a certain pattern to it. She made it sound easy.

Lobb, reluctantly, had admitted that he could not help her with repairing her sword. And if he couldn’t, then no one in Lune could.

Her sword’s name, she said, was Celeste. Vod had never cared to give his swords names. What was the point?

‘It just depends on how you treat the sword.’ She could read his expressionless face. ‘Personally, I like treating Celeste as a partner. Though, everyone has their own ways.’ She shrugged.

The unsettling feeling he had when near her only grew with the passing of time. The last person who could get a read on him was only his father. ‘Naming them won’t make a difference,’ Vod said. ‘It won’t improve because of a name.’

She hummed, thinking. ‘I wouldn’t say they would improve. But sometimes, names do make a difference. If you name each of your swords with consideration, you’ll feel a little bad when breaking them, won’t you?’

‘Then naming them is worse than not.’

‘If that’s your perspective.’

She took a turn left and Vod followed her lead. Freya, like Vod, was heading toward the sanctum. She had asked him about the Stormpiercer in the blacksmith’s shop and as thanks she was showing him a shortcut to sanctum.

‘How good of a swordswoman are you?’ Vod asked.

‘Who knows?’ she answered lightly.

Vod had told her a way to secure the Stormpiercer, but what came next had to depends on her sword skills. He could usually gauge how strong someone was from a glance, but he couldn’t get a read on her strength. A mysterious woman…

‘How about you? How good of a swordsman are you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘See? Even you don’t know how to answer that. Don’t get annoyed when I couldn’t.’ Again, she read him.

They took a turn right and stepped out of the alleyway. There, the sanctum’s shadow loomed over them. Vod had never arrived to the sanctum through the alleyway and seen the building from this perspective before.

‘Don’t mind if I take the Stormpiercer, Vod.’

She doesn’t know her sword skill, yet she’s this confident, Vod thought. ‘I won’t if you could.’