While Ketron went to wash up, Eddie placed some clothes—just underwear and pants, since nothing else would fit his massive frame—right outside the bathroom and began cleaning the room.
Ketron hadn’t touched or used anything during his three-day stay, but dust was the kind of thing that settled quietly without warning.
Though Gerold handled most of the inn’s upkeep these days, Eddie wasn’t completely uninvolved. From the start, he’d been a stickler for cleanliness.
He opened the window for ventilation and wiped the dust from the panes. Armed with a broom, Eddie began sweeping and scrubbing the room, only to soon hit a major obstacle.
“Hmmm.”
The sacred sword Ketron had propped up by the bed’s headboard was in the way, preventing him from finishing the job.
The sacred sword Albatross.
A legendary blade said to only allow itself to be lifted by a Hero it had chosen.
From a modern perspective, the setup resembled King Arthur’s Excalibur.
But really, who cared about the background lore? The sword was just that cool.
“It’s seriously awesome.”
Eddie couldn’t help but murmur to himself.
Although it had been wrapped in cloth, presumably to hide its ornate appearance, the spectacular hilt was still exposed.
It was a nuisance right now, blocking him from cleaning properly, but that didn’t change how impressive it looked.
“The blade’s thin, but the body is solid. It looks like it’s built to endure. Oh, even the end of the hilt has a decorative piece? Wow, it’s so intricate.”
Without thinking, Eddie reached out and gently fiddled with the ornament. It was obvious that a master craftsman had poured care into every detail. Though it wasn’t particularly large, the craftsmanship was stunning.
The twin tassels hanging from the side had elegant golden embroidery.
‘I bet just selling this ornament and the tassels alone would fetch an insane price as art.’
The materialistic thought crossed his mind before he could stop it, but Eddie quickly shook his head. No way. Even considering selling a sacred sword’s decoration? Blasphemy.
“It’s just... really, really cool.”
Eddie, captivated, gently stroked the Albatross like it was a precious treasure. Just barely, cautiously—he didn’t want to tempt fate by messing with a sacred sword too carelessly.
He idly fondled the sword for quite some time, letting the sound of running water from the bathroom serve as his background music. Eventually, he sighed and drew his hand back.
“Hmm, but still…”
What should he do?
With the sacred sword planted smack in the middle of the room, he couldn’t finish cleaning.
If he could just shift it a little—move it to the side or place it on the bed—it would be fine.
He tried, of course. Grunting with effort, he attempted to lift it. But the sword was absurdly heavy, and worse yet, Albatross simply could not be grasped by anyone the sword hadn’t accepted. It didn’t budge an inch.
Even though Eddie’s body wasn’t as honed and muscular as a trained warrior like Ketron, he was still decently built. Yet it didn’t move a single bit. It truly lived up to the legend.
Eventually, Eddie gave up with a groan.
“Ugh. It’s too heavy. Guess I have no choice.”
Sighing, Eddie decided to just clean around it. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would still look tidy enough.
As he began wiping the floor gently with a damp cloth, a quiet tick sounded—and suddenly, the massive body of Albatross tilted toward him.
Huh?
Unbeknownst to Eddie, the sword had been pressing into the same spot for nearly three days without moving.
While the inn’s floors were solid wood and fairly sturdy, the weight of Albatross was far beyond what the boards could handle. Plus, the bed area saw more wear and tear than most places. The wood was weakened.
In short, it was bad luck. The floor gave out at just the wrong time—right as Eddie was cleaning nearby.
The sword's hefty form toppled toward him with frightening speed.
Eddie instinctively shut his eyes. Even wrapped in cloth, Albatross radiated an overwhelming energy, and if it landed on him, he could be seriously hurt.
But—
“...?”
No impact came, even after a long pause.
Cautiously, Eddie cracked one eye open.
And there it was: Albatross, mid-fall, frozen in place like it had been suspended in mid-air.
Defying the laws of gravity, the sacred sword simply hung there. Eddie blinked in disbelief, again and again.
In the novel <The Hero Doesn’t Even Bother to Hide His Power>, there had never been a scene where the sword actually spoke to Ketron. But there were several moments where he asked the sword for its opinion.
The sword never responded aloud, but people around Ketron often assumed he was just talking to himself, which became a running gag.
Still, this? The sword stopping itself from falling... it had to have acted on its own to avoid hurting Eddie.
“...You’re a good sword, huh.”
Murmuring to himself, Eddie gently stroked the ornate hilt again. The sword didn’t speak, of course, and anyone watching would’ve thought he’d lost his mind.
And sure enough, someone was watching.
“What are you doing?”
Ketron had emerged from the bathroom still wearing the same clothes. He’d noticed the underwear and pants Eddie had left outside, but ignored them and walked out as he was. Striding forward, he roughly grabbed the partially toppled sword.
That blade was monstrously heavy. If it had fallen, Eddie would’ve been seriously injured. Whether Ketron realized that or not, Eddie’s calm face showed no sign of concern.
Yet when Ketron lifted Albatross, which hadn’t budged at all when Eddie touched it, it rose like a toy in a child’s hand.
“I was just cleaning…”
“Cleaning?”
Ketron’s gaze shifted to the damp rag in Eddie’s hand, and then to the floor—sparkling clean everywhere except the area around the sword.
Ketron sighed. The man had just been doing his job.
“I’ll move this thing into a corner. Don’t touch it again. Do you realize how close that was to being dangerous?”
If the sword hadn’t stopped itself, no amount of cloth would’ve prevented serious injury.
But Eddie just smiled. Ketron didn’t seem to notice, but he’d started speaking more naturally. Up to now, he’d barely spoken at all—almost like his lips had been glued shut.
“Hmm, but it was sweet.”
“...?”
“It stopped mid-fall, remember?”
Anyone hearing this would think Eddie was delusional. But both of them knew the sword had a will of its own—though neither knew the other was aware of that fact.
“...It was probably a coincidence.”
Ketron muttered as he carried the sword to a corner. Internally, he was rattled.
That foul-tempered sword stopped itself mid-fall... because someone might get hurt? Given the angle and the weight, yes, it did make sense to assume it stopped on purpose. But since when did that sword care?
“Calling it sweet… That’s nonsense.”
“This sword’s got a nasty per—”
Ketron cut himself off. He was about to say “personality,” but a sword couldn’t have one. Not normally.
So instead, he changed tack smoothly.
“No. It’s just filthy. Don’t touch it.”
<What?!>
Albatross, downgraded in an instant from sacred relic to “just filthy,” sent a wave of protest through Ketron’s head—but he pretended not to hear it.
“Aha, I see.”
Eddie smiled like he believed him.
“Oh, right. I brought you some clothes to change into.”
Eddie pointed with a grin toward the underwear and pants he’d left outside the bathroom. But Ketron, already redressed in his original clothes, shook his head.
“I already put these—”
Eddie mouthed the words slowly.
S.T.I.N.K.
“…”
In the end, Ketron had no choice but to change into what Eddie had brought. The pants barely fit, but somehow worked. As for a shirt, they couldn’t find one that fit, so he remained half-naked.
Which, frankly, suited Eddie’s purpose perfectly. Smiling to himself, he brought over a set of medical supplies from the corner of the room.
“Alright, let’s patch you up.”
Which made Ketron suspect that the missing shirt had been part of Eddie’s plan all along. Not that Eddie gave any indication—he simply patted the floor enthusiastically like he was inviting a puppy to sit down.
Ketron pressed his lips together.
This was the third time. The third time this man had tried to treat his wounds.
He’d rejected or ignored it every time, but Eddie had kept at it, completely unfazed. At this rate, he’d probably keep trying until the wounds healed naturally.
“…Haa.”
Finally, Ketron sighed and sat down where Eddie had patted. Eddie’s face lit up with delight.
Ketron normally hated being dragged along by others. But being gently pushed around by this man didn’t feel so bad.
Because it was pure, uncalculated kindness.
“Straight from the East! Medicine that heals any wound, plus adhesive patches, and an all-purpose cure! Well—maybe not all diseases. Maybe a hundred? No, like ten… okay, maybe three.”
…Of course, the way Eddie spoke still sounded like a snake-oil salesman.