──Why did I… forget?
Elliott stared silently at the sword placed before him, questioning himself. As he reflected on the day he had obtained the Holy Sword and the year that followed, a chilling sensation crept down his spine.
──I convinced myself I had lost it and hardly searched for it at all…
Once, it had been something precious. However, the honor of wielding the Holy Sword and the exhilaration of effortlessly defeating the Undead Beasts had been overwhelming. In the midst of those glorious and proud days, the sense of loss had been pushed to the back of his mind, until he ultimately forgot about it entirely.
Fleeing from the nausea rising in his chest, Elliott averted his gaze from the sword. He felt Goliath’s eyes on him and spoke the bare truth without raising his face.
“…It’s the sword I used before obtaining the Holy Sword. I thought it was lost.”
“I see.”
Goliath’s flat voice, devoid of emotion, lingered painfully in the air.
“That sword is certainly no ordinary blade. The craftsmanship of the blade is remarkable, and the shape of the hilt is exquisite, with meticulous attention to detail. And then there’s the distinctive pommel… If I’m not mistaken, this was crafted by Lord Dolf of the Hidden Village.”
“…Hidden Village…?”
“Oh? You didn’t know where this sword was made?”
Goliath’s narrowed gaze felt suffocating to Elliott, as if he were being appraised.
“This sword was… a gift from someone.”
He suppressed the bitterness and replied with only that. Goliath maintained a thin smile, unreadable in emotion, as he picked up the sword again and gently touched the chipped and warped blade with his fingertips.
“Hm, I see… Now, shall we return to the main topic? In short, you wish to do something about this, correct?”
“Is it something that can be repaired?”
“Well, I can’t say for certain just yet. Even if we have our craftsmen reshape the broken parts and restore the sword’s form, it won’t return to being a true Vessel.”
Elliott bit his lip upon hearing this, and Goliath deepened his smile as if to offer comfort.
“If we entrust it to Lord Dolf, the creator of this sword, it might be possible.”
“Then…! Where is this Hidden Village…?”
Elliott finally raised his face and asked desperately.
“…If I recall correctly, it’s about a two-day journey by carriage from the Royal Capital’s main gate.”
Upon hearing this, Elliott and Lloyd stood up, and Goliath added with a sidelong glance.
“Even if the Vessel’s form is restored, there’s no guarantee that everything will return to how it was. Still, it seems you can’t afford to do nothing. If you happen to meet him, please come back again.”
The two took Goliath’s words as a kind consideration, expressing their gratitude before leaving the room.
In the small chamber left by the departing guests, a young butler entered with a tea set. As Goliath sipped the prepared tea, he turned to the butler with a question.
“Have there been any changes in the merchants visiting Dolf’s village recently?”
“Yes, Goliath-sama. The merchants invited there are still primarily those dealing in food and daily necessities. However, it seems the number of craftsmen in the blacksmithing village has been increasing lately.”
“Given the circumstances surrounding the emergence of the Holy Sword, that’s only natural… Ah, I’ve made a blunder. I carelessly only mentioned ‘Hidden Village’ to them.”
Dramatically clutching his head, Goliath wore a feigned expression of confusion, prompting the young butler to chuckle in exasperation.
“Goliath-sama, you did that on purpose, didn’t you? You didn’t think they would ever reach that village, did you?”
“Well, who knows? Your companions seemed to have some potential.”
Goliath leaned back deeply into the sofa, a playful smile on his face.
“Those worthy of an invitation recognize it as a natural sight, so they have no reason to doubt and simply call it ‘the blacksmithing village.’ However, the uninvited ones cannot even find it, so they refer to it as ‘the Hidden Village.’ I can’t believe I forgot to mention that. Well… an opportunity for an apology will come soon enough.”