THE COLDEST DEMON GOD
An Unwanted Hero's Ascension
Volume 1 — Summoning & Rejection
Chapter 10 — The Value of a Hero
Renjiro left the western audience chamber with one conclusion.
The Holy Empire of Valentia wanted him gone.
Not immediately. Not publicly. And certainly not in a way that would make thirty students and their teacher question the people who had summoned them.
But eventually.
A farm outside Aureum. Housing. Tools. Seeds. An allowance. A quiet civilian life separated from the Hero training program.
It sounded generous.
That was precisely why Renjiro did not trust it.
Nothing had been finalized. Emperor Aldric had been careful about that. Aurelia had called it an option, Malakor had described it as a practical alternative, and every promise remained conveniently suspended somewhere between proposal and reality.
Renjiro preferred it that way.
If Valentia ultimately decided he was useless enough to discard, good.
If the Empire expected gratitude for doing it, even better.
He walked through the palace corridor at the same pace as before the meeting. Two Imperial guards stood at the next intersection. Neither stopped him.
“Kurogane-sama.”
Renjiro nodded and continued.
For now, he was still a guest.
That could change.
He hoped it would.
The thought should probably have bothered him more.
Instead, his mind returned to something far more interesting.
The Adventurer Guild.
Renjiro almost felt impatient.
Almost.
✦ ✦ ✦
By the time he returned to the training grounds, the atmosphere had changed.
Yesterday’s demonstrations had been tentative and chaotic. Today, actual instruction had begun.
Class 3-B had been divided into broad groups according to what the Valentian instructors currently understood about their abilities. Melee-oriented students occupied the largest section of the courtyard. Ranged practice took place beneath the covered eastern gallery. Students with obvious magical affinities stood around reinforced targets while instructors demonstrated basic mana control. Akari and several support-oriented students had been moved toward a quieter area where healers and barrier specialists worked.
The organization was imperfect.
That made sense.
Valentia had spent less than a day studying powers it had never encountered before.
Renjiro remained near the edge of the courtyard.
Nobody had prepared a training group for an Unskilled Civilian with a Farmer aptitude.
Reasonable.
“Kurogane-kun!”
Shizuka approached immediately.
Her expression told him Reina had probably mentioned that palace attendants had taken him away alone.
“What did they want?”
“Nothing important.”
Shizuka stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Kurogane-kun.”
“Yes, Sensei?”
“You disappeared into a private meeting with the Emperor, the Grand Vizier and the Imperial Princess.”
“Yes.”
“That qualifies as important.”
“They offered me a farm.”
Silence.
Shizuka stared at him.
“A... what?”
“A farm.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I thought I heard incorrectly.”
Several nearby students looked over.
Shizuka noticed and lowered her voice.
“Why would they offer you a farm?”
Renjiro glanced toward the training field.
“The crystal result.”
Understanding reached her immediately.
Her expression became colder.
“Your Job.”
“Yes.”
Yesterday’s native Status Crystal had presented the Empire with exactly what Renjiro wanted them to see: an eighteen-year-old otherworlder whose soul carried no visible foreign divine structure, no useful combat Skills and no exceptional native potential.
Job: Unskilled Civilian.
Secondary Aptitude: Farmer.
Nothing about that profile justified the resources Valentia intended to spend on Daiki, Akari and the others.
“They don’t think military training would be useful for me,” Renjiro said.
“And?”
“Land outside Aureum. Housing. Basic agricultural equipment. Seeds. An allowance while I establish myself.”
Shizuka said nothing.
Her face became increasingly unhappy with every item.
Renjiro watched her.
“They haven’t decided anything.”
“That does not make this better.”
“It makes it undecided.”
“Kurogane-kun.”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to leave us?”
Wrong question.
Renjiro looked past her.
Daiki was practicing beneath Cassian’s supervision. Junpei stood several metres away trying to make spear footwork look less awkward than it had yesterday. Mika was correcting him loudly enough that half the courtyard could probably hear. Akari knelt beside a healer who was demonstrating bandaging techniques despite the existence of healing magic.
Reina sat beneath the gallery with an open book.
She was reading.
She was also looking toward Renjiro often enough that pretending otherwise had become pointless.
Thirty classmates.
One teacher.
People he knew.
Not people he had chosen.
“I don’t want to become Valentia’s Hero.”
Shizuka’s expression softened.
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“I know.”
“Then answer what I asked.”
Renjiro met her eyes.
“Sensei.”
“Yes?”
“You’re responsible for thirty students.”
Her expression hardened again.
“And you are one of them.”
“I’m eighteen.”
“So are most of them.”
“They aren’t my responsibility.”
Shizuka went silent.
Renjiro continued before she could interpret that as hostility toward the class.
“And I’m not yours forever.”
Something shifted in her face.
Not hurt.
Recognition.
“You really intend to go your own way.”
“Yes.”
“Already?”
“When would be the correct time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
That stopped her.
Renjiro looked toward the distant upper walls of Aureum beyond the training grounds.
“But staying somewhere because I don’t know when to leave isn’t a good reason to stay.”
Shizuka released a slow breath.
“You always make these conversations difficult.”
“I answer directly.”
“That is sometimes the difficult part.”
The corner of Renjiro’s mouth nearly moved.
Then a shadow fell across them.
Conversation across the training yard weakened.
Renjiro turned.
A man in scarred heavy plate armour had entered through the western gate.
He was enormous—close to two metres tall, broad enough that the armour made him appear almost architectural. The breastplate was functional rather than ceremonial. Scratches crossed the surface. One shoulder guard carried several deep grooves that had been repaired instead of replaced.
A massive sword rested across his back.
Cassian straightened immediately.
“General.”
Every Valentian soldier in the courtyard came to attention.
Renjiro focused.
Appraisal Eyes answered.
GENERAL BRANDON “THE IRON WALL”
Race: Human
Age: 38
Position: Supreme Commander of the Holy Empire of Valentia’s Armed Forces
Combat Specialization: Heavy Swordsmanship • Defensive Warfare • Earth Affinity
Signature Skill: Earth Splitter Blade
Condition: Healthy
Personality Indicators: Authoritarian • Militaristic • Highly Disciplined • Low Tolerance for Defiance
Current Intent: Evaluate Summoned Combat Assets
Assets.
Renjiro dismissed the information.
There it was.
Brandon crossed the courtyard without wasting time on introductions. His gaze moved across Class 3-B with the blunt efficiency of someone inspecting equipment before a campaign.
It stopped on Daiki.
“Holy Hero.”
Daiki straightened.
“Yes, sir.”
Brandon approached him.
“You destroyed an Imperial training target with your first empowered strike.”
Daiki looked faintly embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean to destroy it.”
“Why apologize?”
Daiki blinked.
Brandon stopped directly in front of him.
“Power exists to be used.”
Cassian’s expression tightened slightly.
Daiki noticed.
“So I shouldn’t control it?”
Brandon’s eyes narrowed.
“Control it.”
A pause.
“Then make the next target break because you intended it to.”
Daiki considered the answer.
Then smiled faintly.
“I can agree with that.”
Brandon grunted.
Approval.
Not affection.
But approval.
Renjiro watched.
Aurelia rewarded people emotionally.
Brandon rewarded strength.
Different methods.
Similar usefulness to Valentia.
The General moved on.
He stopped before Akari.
“Saintess.”
Akari’s expression tightened.
“Tachibana Akari.”
Brandon stared at her for a moment.
Then nodded once.
“Tachibana.”
That surprised her.
“Your healing ability is strategically valuable.”
Akari frowned.
“Strategically?”
“One capable healer can return multiple soldiers to battle.”
Her expression cooled.
“They’re people.”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
Brandon apparently saw no contradiction between the two statements.
“People win wars.”
Akari looked disturbed.
Brandon continued before she could respond.
Junpei stood straighter as the General approached.
Brandon looked at the spear in his hands.
“Spear user.”
Junpei swallowed.
“Apparently.”
“Apparently?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Make it uncomplicated.”
Junpei looked toward Mika for support.
She mouthed something.
Renjiro could read it easily.
Good luck.
Junpei’s shoulders dropped.
Traitor, apparently.
Brandon continued through the students.
He asked instructors for observations.
Physical coordination.
Mana output.
Control.
Reaction speed.
Weapon affinity.
Healing efficiency.
Barrier strength.
Every answer appeared to reduce a teenager into some invisible military calculation.
Useful.
Less useful.
Combat.
Support.
Potential.
Liability.
Renjiro understood the process.
He also disliked nothing about it personally.
Brandon could assign whatever value he wanted.
That did not make the evaluation binding.
Then the General reached him.
Brandon looked down.
Renjiro looked up.
“Kurogane Renjiro.”
“Yes.”
“Unskilled Civilian.”
“Apparently.”
Brandon’s expression did not change.
“Farmer aptitude.”
“Yes.”
“You trained with a sword on Earth.”
“Kendo.”
“I was informed.”
Renjiro glanced toward Cassian.
The Knight Commander gave him the faintest apologetic look.
Information travelled quickly inside the Imperial Palace.
Expected.
Brandon extended one hand.
A nearby soldier immediately placed a wooden training sword into it.
The General offered the weapon hilt-first.
“Show me.”
“No, thank you.”
Silence.
Several conversations around them died completely.
Junpei closed his eyes.
Mika whispered, “Oh, no.”
Brandon lowered the wooden sword by several centimetres.
“What did you say?”
“No, thank you.”
“You misunderstand.”
“I don’t.”
“This is an evaluation.”
“The Status Crystal already evaluated what Valentia can see.”
“I do not evaluate crystals.”
Renjiro waited.
Brandon’s voice hardened.
“I evaluate soldiers.”
“I’m not a soldier.”
That landed differently.
Shizuka stepped forward.
“General Brandon.”
He did not look at her.
The wooden sword remained extended between him and Renjiro.
“You were summoned to Valentia during a national crisis.”
“I was kidnapped.”
Several soldiers stiffened.
Daiki turned.
Akari stopped speaking to the healer beside her.
Brandon’s jaw tightened.
“You stand inside an Empire that feeds you, houses you and protects you.”
“For two days.”
Somewhere behind Renjiro, Junpei whispered, “He’s going to die.”
Mika elbowed him.
“Not helping.”
Brandon stepped closer.
“You believe that entitles you to refuse?”
“Yes.”
Shizuka closed her eyes for half a second.
Brandon stared down at Renjiro.
Renjiro stared back.
There was no challenge in his posture.
No anger.
No attempt to dominate the exchange.
That seemed to irritate Brandon more than open hostility would have.
The General finally asked, “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
Several students looked horrified.
Brandon’s fingers tightened around the wooden sword.
Then Daiki stepped forward.
“General.”
Renjiro looked toward him.
Daiki approached carefully.
“I think Kurogane has a point.”
Brandon turned.
The attention of the entire courtyard moved with him.
Daiki swallowed once.
He continued anyway.
“We didn’t volunteer to come here.”
Renjiro watched him.
No performance.
No attempt to impress anyone.
Daiki genuinely believed what he was saying.
“We’re willing to learn,” Daiki continued. “At least I am. A lot of us are.”
Several classmates nodded.
“But Sensei was right. We’re still trying to understand what happened to us and what these abilities even mean.”
Brandon looked at him.
“And if an enemy attacks while you are understanding?”
Daiki paused.
“Then I’ll fight.”
Immediate.
Brandon’s eyes sharpened.
Daiki held his gaze.
“But that should still be my choice.”
Silence settled over the yard.
Renjiro studied him.
That was why people listened when Daiki spoke.
Not because Chronies had given him the foreign designation Holy Hero.
Not because his Rank was S.
Daiki stepped into uncomfortable situations because he believed someone should.
At least right now.
Brandon finally lowered the wooden sword.
“Choice.”
The word did not sound like one of his favourites.
Then he looked back at Renjiro.
“A weak man who refuses training remains weak.”
Renjiro nodded.
“Probably.”
Brandon’s eyebrow twitched.
“You have no pride?”
“About being stronger than someone?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then what do you take pride in?”
Renjiro considered it.
“Things that matter to me.”
Brandon stared.
Renjiro offered nothing else.
The General shoved the wooden sword back toward the soldier.
“Useless.”
Renjiro felt absolutely nothing.
Brandon walked away.
Shizuka immediately turned toward him.
“Could you please stop provoking powerful people?”
“I didn’t provoke him.”
“You told the supreme commander of the Imperial military that you wouldn’t obey because you didn’t want to.”
“Yes.”
“That is provoking him.”
“He asked.”
Shizuka pressed two fingers against her forehead.
Reina arrived from the gallery.
“I told you not to antagonize the Emperor.”
“That wasn’t the Emperor.”
She stared at him.
“That isn’t a defense.”
“I didn’t antagonize the Emperor.”
Junpei appeared beside them.
“I personally think that’s technically correct.”
Mika caught the back of his collar.
“Stop encouraging him.”
Renjiro looked toward Daiki.
“Thanks.”
Daiki blinked.
Probably because Renjiro rarely thanked anyone without a practical reason.
Then he smiled.
“No problem.”
“I didn’t need help.”
Daiki’s smile disappeared.
“Couldn’t you just leave it at thanks?”
“No.”
“Right.”
He laughed.
Renjiro looked toward the training field again.
Daiki wanted to help.
Renjiro wanted to be left alone.
Neither required the other to become an enemy.
That was enough.
✦ ✦ ✦
Lunch was quieter.
Mostly because everyone was exhausted.
Renjiro sat near one of the dining hall windows with a bowl of soup and bread. He had learned enough after breakfast not to assume familiar appearances meant familiar ingredients.
He focused briefly.
Appraisal Eyes identified the broth, root vegetables, meat and several herbs.
One stood out.
SILVERLEAF
Grade: Common Medicinal Herb
Properties: Mild Anti-Inflammatory • Reduces Fatigue • Enhances Flavour When Simmered
Cultivation: Temperate Soil • Moderate Mana Density • High Moisture Tolerance
Renjiro paused.
Cultivation.
He reread the information.
Interesting.
The agricultural proposal became slightly less ridiculous.
Not because he intended to spend his life farming.
Land meant plants.
Plants meant ingredients.
Medicine.
Poisons.
Cooking.
Alchemy, potentially.
Crafting materials.
Asteria possessed an entire ecosystem he knew almost nothing about.
Renjiro disliked not knowing things that could matter.
Which meant he wanted to learn.
He dismissed Appraisal and resumed eating.
A chair moved across the floor.
Daiki sat opposite him.
“Can I sit?”
Renjiro looked at the chair he was already occupying.
“You did.”
Daiki sighed.
“I’m trying to be polite.”
“I know.”
For several seconds, they ate without speaking.
Daiki eventually leaned back.
“You really didn’t want to train?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“I want to train.”
Daiki frowned.
“But you refused.”
“I refused their training.”
Understanding arrived.
“Kendo.”
“Yes.”
“Cassian said they don’t have a katana.”
“They don’t.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Find one.”
“In another world?”
“Have one made if necessary.”
Daiki laughed softly.
“You sound like you already decided.”
“I did.”
Another pause.
Then Daiki’s expression became more serious.
“About what I said earlier...”
Renjiro continued eating.
“You didn’t need to step in.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
Daiki looked toward the other tables.
Several classmates were discussing the morning’s training. Junpei was attempting to explain spear mechanics despite clearly not understanding spear mechanics. Mika corrected him every few seconds.
Akari was speaking quietly with Shizuka.
“I didn’t like it.”
“What?”
“Someone telling you that you had to fight because they brought us here.”
Renjiro waited.
Daiki looked back.
“I do want to help.”
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
“If Valentia really is in danger, and ordinary people here are going to die... I don’t think I could just ignore that.”
Renjiro nodded once.
Daiki frowned slightly.
“You really mean that.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t think I’m stupid?”
“No.”
“Naive?”
“Possibly.”
Daiki laughed.
“At least you’re consistent.”
Renjiro set down his spoon.
“You choosing to help someone isn’t the problem.”
Daiki’s smile faded.
“What is?”
“Someone else deciding who you have to help.”
Daiki became still.
Renjiro looked through the window toward Aureum beyond the palace grounds.
“Especially when they benefit from your decision.”
Daiki said nothing for several seconds.
Then he leaned back.
“You really don’t trust Valentia.”
“No.”
“Not even Cassian?”
“I don’t know Cassian.”
“Aurelia-sama?”
Renjiro looked at him.
Daiki immediately raised both hands.
“Right. Stupid question.”
“No.”
“You were going to say something.”
“I was deciding whether answering would be useful.”
“And?”
“It wouldn’t.”
Daiki laughed again.
Then the humour faded.
“I still think we should give them a chance.”
“You can.”
“You won’t?”
“I’m watching.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
Daiki looked down at the table.
Renjiro picked up his spoon again.
He had no intention of convincing Daiki to distrust Valentia.
People who borrowed someone else’s judgment without understanding why were no more reliable than people who trusted blindly.
Daiki needed to make his own decisions.
So did Renjiro.
After a while, Daiki nodded.
“I’ll remember what you said.”
Renjiro believed him.
There was no reason not to.
“Good.”
Daiki smiled faintly.
“Was that approval?”
“No.”
“Of course not.”
✦ ✦ ✦
General Brandon placed a report on Emperor Aldric’s desk.
The room was smaller than the throne hall and more private than the western audience chamber. No ceremonial guards stood inside. Malakor occupied his usual position near a shelf of documents, while Aurelia sat beside one of the tall windows.
Aldric opened the report.
Names.
Observations.
Demonstrated abilities.
Temperament.
Potential.
KANZAKI DAIKI — Exceptional Combat Potential. Foreign designation: HOLY HERO. Light affinity confirmed. High leadership influence among summoned group.
TACHIBANA AKARI — Exceptional Healing Potential. Foreign designation: SAINTESS. Holy/Healing affinity. High strategic support value.
More entries followed.
Then—
KUROGANE RENJIRO — Native Job: UNSKILLED CIVILIAN. Secondary Aptitude: FARMER. No recognized combat Skills. Foreign Divine structure not detected by available instruments. Physical capability unverified. Refused military evaluation. Low projected strategic combat value.
Aldric looked up.
“He refused you?”
Brandon’s expression darkened.
“Yes.”
Malakor scoffed.
“Arrogance without ability.”
Aurelia turned from the window.
“Did he insult you?”
“No.”
“Threaten anyone?”
“No.”
“Disrupt the training?”
Brandon paused.
“No.”
“Then what did he do?”
“He refused.”
Aurelia’s mouth almost curved.
“That seems consistent.”
Brandon’s eyes narrowed.
“You find this amusing?”
“No.”
She did.
Slightly.
Malakor tapped the report.
“This is becoming unnecessarily complicated.”
Aldric looked at him.
“How?”
“He has no military value.”
“Military value is not the only kind,” Aurelia said.
Malakor turned toward her.
Aurelia folded her hands calmly.
“Even someone without combat potential can create political consequences.”
Brandon remained silent.
Aldric’s gaze returned to the report.
Aurelia continued.
“But not yet.”
Malakor frowned.
“Why wait?”
“Because Takahashi-sama already distrusts us.”
“She is a teacher.”
“Exactly.”
Aurelia rose.
“She watches how we treat them.”
Brandon crossed his arms.
“And?”
“She measures our treatment of the weakest summoned individual against our treatment of the strongest.”
The room became quiet.
“If we separate Kurogane-sama too quickly,” Aurelia continued, “she will question why.”
Malakor’s expression remained impatient.
“She questions everything.”
“Then there is no reason to give her better questions.”
Aldric leaned back.
“How long?”
“A few days.”
“Then?”
“We make the distinction ordinary.”
Aurelia approached the report.
Her finger touched Daiki’s name.
“Kanzaki-sama trains.”
Akari.
“Tachibana-sama heals.”
Several others.
“The rest discover how their foreign abilities can fit within Asteria.”
Then Renjiro.
“And Kurogane-sama receives a path appropriate to the native Job everyone believes he possesses.”
Brandon grunted.
“A farm.”
“A practical civilian alternative.”
“He refused my training.”
“That helps.”
Brandon stared at her.
Aurelia smiled.
“If he actively prefers independence, then providing it appears generous rather than punitive.”
Aldric understood immediately.
“And if Takahashi-sama objects?”
“We explain that he is not being abandoned.”
Malakor nodded slowly.
“Housing.”
“Land.”
“Initial financial support.”
“Tools.”
“Exactly.”
Aurelia’s expression remained gentle.
The same expression she used with Class 3-B.
Aldric watched her.
“And if those arrangements change later?”
Aurelia looked toward him.
“Then the summoned students need only know what Valentia intended to provide.”
Malakor’s eyes shifted.
Brandon said nothing.
Aldric did not ask her to elaborate.
After several seconds, he looked back at the report.
“What about the Holy Hero?”
Aurelia’s attention moved to Daiki’s name.
Her expression softened.
This time the softness was entirely deliberate.
“He defended Kurogane-sama.”
Malakor frowned.
“Problematic?”
“No.”
Aurelia picked up the report.
“Useful.”
Brandon looked toward her.
“How?”
“Because he did it despite disagreeing with him.”
She reread the notes.
“Kanzaki Daiki wants to protect people.”
A small smile appeared.
“He wants that choice to mean something.”
Aldric’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Aurelia continued.
“People build their identities around the things they are praised for.”
Silence.
“Chronies-sama called him a Holy Hero. Our soldiers admire his power. His classmates already expect him to stand forward when something goes wrong.”
She placed the report back on the desk.
“We should encourage the best parts of him.”
Malakor studied her.
“The best parts?”
Aurelia smiled.
“The useful ones.”
✦ ✦ ✦
That afternoon, Class 3-B was finally allowed beyond the Imperial Palace.
Not freely.
Of course.
Valentia called it an educational tour.
Ten Imperial guards accompanied them. Cassian led the military escort, while three palace attendants handled introductions and answered basic questions.
Shizuka counted her students four times before they passed through the outer gate.
Junpei noticed on the third.
“Sensei, nobody disappeared.”
“I’m checking.”
“You checked thirty seconds ago.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to count us the entire day?”
“Yes.”
Junpei looked toward Renjiro.
“She’s going to count us the entire day.”
“Yes.”
“Help.”
“No.”
“Cold.”
The palace gates opened.
Renjiro stepped into Aureum.
The difference was immediate.
Noise.
Actual city noise.
Merchants called prices from open storefronts. Cart wheels struck uneven stone. Children ran between adults until someone shouted at them. Metal rang somewhere deeper in the district. The air carried bread, smoke, horses, hot oil, spices, sweat and something distinctly unpleasant drifting from a narrow drainage street.
Probably sewage.
Renjiro looked around.
Better.
Not cleaner.
Not safer.
Better.
Alive.
The Imperial Palace felt curated. Every corridor presented something the Empire wanted people to see.
Aureum did not.
Humans filled most of the streets.
But not all.
A man with pointed ears carried a bundle of documents between two shops.
Renjiro focused briefly.
Race: Half-Elf
Good.
Another figure emerged from a workshop—short, broad, heavily bearded.
Race: Dwarf
Expected.
Then a woman passed carrying a basket.
Cat ears moved slightly above dark hair. A tail remained close to her legs.
Race: Feline Beastkin
She kept her gaze down.
Pedestrians gave her less space than they gave nearby Humans.
A shopkeeper watched until she had passed.
Renjiro noticed.
Reina noticed him noticing.
Neither spoke.
One street did not prove an entire society.
Yesterday’s palace murals, the chained Beastkin seen from above and the casual language of Valentian attendants already formed a pattern.
This added another data point.
Nothing more was required yet.
The tour continued.
Aureum’s central districts were impressive.
Stone buildings rose three or four storeys. Mana lamps lined major roads. Public fountains drew clean water through engraved magical channels. Carriages moved beside carts pulled by animals Renjiro only partly recognized.
Magic had not prevented technological development.
It had redirected it.
They passed a streetlamp.
Renjiro focused.
MANA LAMP
Power Source: Refined Mana Crystal
Expected Operational Duration: 183 Days
Maintenance Requirement: Low
Construction Quality: Standard
Renjiro dismissed the information.
Useful.
Valentia possessed infrastructure based on replaceable magical energy storage.
That implied mining.
Processing.
Standardization.
Distribution.
Repair industries.
Potentially large-scale magical engineering.
Asteria was not technologically primitive.
It had followed a different path.
Junpei suddenly grabbed Renjiro’s shoulder.
Renjiro looked down at the hand.
Junpei removed it immediately.
“Sorry.”
“What?”
Junpei pointed.
Renjiro followed the gesture.
A large three-storey building occupied the corner of the next plaza. A sword and staff crossed beneath a silver crest above broad double doors.
Adventurers moved in and out.
Real armour.
Real weapons.
Backpacks.
Monster hides.
A group carrying something wrapped in heavy cloth that was definitely bleeding.
Renjiro stopped.
Words beneath the emblem confirmed it.
ADVENTURER GUILD — AUREUM CENTRAL BRANCH
There it was.
Real.
Not an interface.
Not a game.
Not manga.
Not anime.
A Guild.
Junpei grinned beside him.
“Guild.”
“Yes.”
“You stopped walking.”
“I noticed.”
“You want to go in.”
Renjiro said nothing.
Junpei’s grin widened.
“You do.”
Cassian’s voice came from ahead.
“We are not entering today.”
Renjiro looked toward him.
Cassian had noticed.
Of course he had.
Junpei’s disappointment was immediate.
“What?”
“This is an orientation tour.”
“Exactly. We should orient ourselves inside the Guild.”
Mika grabbed his sleeve.
“That isn’t what that means.”
Cassian almost smiled.
“Another day.”
Renjiro looked through the open doors before moving on.
Quest boards were visible inside.
Only briefly.
Enough.
The Central Branch was here.
He memorized the route.
✦ ✦ ✦
The market district occupied several broad streets west of the Guild.
The escort allowed the students more freedom there as long as everyone remained within sight.
Renjiro used it.
He examined food stalls first.
Not because food was the most strategically important subject.
Because he wanted to.
Different grains.
Fruit.
Spices.
Cuts of meat from animals he did not know.
Herbs bundled according to use.
A yellow root whose Appraisal description suggested it became mildly toxic if improperly dried.
Interesting.
A red fruit with enough natural sugar to be useful for preserves.
Also interesting.
Then steel struck steel somewhere farther down the street.
CLANG!
Renjiro stopped.
Again.
CLANG!
Forge.
He changed direction.
Reina noticed.
Naturally.
“You’re leaving the group.”
“I’m twenty metres away.”
“That still counts.”
“You followed me.”
“I’m also twenty metres away.”
Renjiro looked at her.
Reina’s expression remained perfectly neutral.
Annoying.
A blacksmith shop stood open to the street.
Heat rolled through the entrance. Weapons covered racks along one wall: straight double-edged swords, broad single-edged sabres, spears, axes and several weapons Renjiro could not immediately classify.
Tools occupied another section.
Actual tools.
Files.
Tongs.
Hammers.
Grinding equipment.
Buckets.
Quenching troughs.
An older man stood behind the counter.
Heavy forearms. Burn scars. Leather apron. Grey threaded through dark hair.
His eyes moved from Renjiro to Reina, then toward Shizuka approaching behind them with an expression that suggested she had accepted losing control of the tour one student at a time.
“You buying?”
“Looking.”
“Looking is free until you touch something.”
“Reasonable.”
The old man stared at him.
Renjiro examined the weapons.
One curved saber held his attention longer than the others.
Good steel.
Clean edge geometry.
Functional grip.
Slightly forward-heavy balance.
Not bad.
Not for him.
The smith noticed.
“You don’t like it.”
“It’s well made.”
“But?”
“Not for me.”
The man’s eyebrow rose.
“Why?”
“Balance.”
The smith became still.
Then he walked around the counter and removed the saber from its stand.
He offered it hilt-first.
“Feel it.”
Renjiro did not move immediately.
Cassian had said they were not entering the Guild.
He had said nothing about touching swords.
Shizuka saw the calculation.
“Kurogane-kun.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“That sentence worries me now.”
Renjiro accepted the weapon.
Weight settled into his hand.
Divine Body immediately supplied far too much information: centre of mass, grip pressure, potential acceleration, angle efficiency.
Renjiro ignored the automatic analysis as much as possible.
He tested it as a swordsman.
One slow change of guard.
A controlled rotation.
No swing.
No flourish.
The smith’s eyes narrowed.
“You’ve held a blade before.”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Katana.”
The man frowned.
“Never heard of it.”
“Japanese.”
“Never heard of that either.”
“Expected.”
The smith grunted.
“Show me.”
Renjiro returned the saber.
“No.”
The smith stared.
Shizuka covered part of her face with one hand.
Reina laughed.
A small sound.
Definitely laughter.
Renjiro looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The blacksmith started laughing too.
“Good.”
Renjiro looked back.
“Good?”
“Too many idiots swing weapons inside my shop.”
He returned the saber to its rack.
“You might not be one.”
“High praise.”
The smith grinned.
“People who say they know ‘a little’ about swords usually know nothing or too much.”
Renjiro looked toward him.
“Which am I?”
“Haven’t decided.”
Fair.
Renjiro let his gaze travel across the shop again.
Materials.
Different steels.
Weapon geometries shaped by combat against things Earth smiths had never needed to consider.
A door behind the counter opened toward the forge.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“What is your name?” Renjiro asked.
The smith frowned.
“Why?”
“So I know who owns the shop.”
“Bram.”
Renjiro waited.
“Just Bram?”
“Do you need my family history to buy a sword?”
“No.”
“Then Bram.”
Renjiro nodded.
“Kurogane Renjiro.”
“Kurogane.”
Bram tested the unfamiliar surname.
“Come back with money.”
Reasonable.
Renjiro turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
“How much would a custom sword cost?”
Shizuka looked at him.
Reina looked at him.
Bram smiled.
“What kind?”
Renjiro answered immediately.
“A katana.”
The smile widened.
“Bring me a drawing.”
For the first time that afternoon, Renjiro’s expression changed enough to be obvious.
A small smile.
Genuine.
“I will.”
Reina saw it.
She said nothing.
This time.
✦ ✦ ✦
They returned to the palace before sunset.
Shizuka counted thirty students outside the gates.
Then again inside.
Nobody commented.
They had learned.
Renjiro returned to his room, closed the door and checked the chamber with Appraisal Eyes.
No surveillance.
No unusual tracking enchantment.
Nothing had changed.
He sat at the writing desk.
Paper had been provided.
Ink too.
Renjiro picked up the pen.
A katana.
He could draw one from memory easily.
Blade length.
Curvature.
Kissaki geometry.
Shinogi.
Tang.
Grip.
Tsuba.
Balance.
Heat treatment principles.
But translating an Earth katana directly into Asterian materials without understanding those materials would be careless.
Asterian steel had to survive mana reinforcement.
Monster bone.
Enchanted armour.
Users whose physical strength could exceed Human norms.
Bram understood those things.
Renjiro did not.
Yet.
That was exactly why a local smith was useful.
He lowered the pen.
There was also Divine Creation.
Could he simply create a katana?
Probably.
That was not the same as should.
He had never tested Divine Creation properly. Creating an unknown divine-grade weapon inside the Imperial Palace merely because he wanted a sword would be idiotic.
Later.
Somewhere private.
Somewhere failure would not become an Imperial incident.
Renjiro looked toward the window.
Aureum’s lights had begun appearing.
Hundreds of mana lamps.
Then thousands.
Somewhere beyond the palace grounds stood the Adventurer Guild.
Bram’s forge.
Markets.
Libraries.
Herbs.
Monster territories.
Ruins.
Labyrinths, presumably.
An entire world.
Renjiro had spent two days inside Valentia.
That was already enough.
A knock came from the door.
“Kurogane-kun?”
Shizuka.
Again.
Renjiro opened it.
She stood outside holding a folded piece of paper.
“What?”
“That greeting needs work.”
“You knocked.”
“I know.”
She handed him the paper.
Renjiro opened it.
An Imperial notice.
SUMMONED GUEST ORIENTATION — DAY THREE
History
Magic Theory
Physical Assessment
Religious Studies
Combat Instruction
Kurogane Renjiro — Agricultural Aptitude Consultation
Renjiro read it twice.
Agricultural.
Aptitude.
Consultation.
He looked at Shizuka.
She looked furious.
A short sound escaped him.
Actual laughter.
Only once.
Shizuka stared.
“Kurogane-kun?”
Renjiro handed the notice back.
“They’re serious.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It is a little.”
“They’re separating your schedule from everyone else.”
“Yes.”
“That bothers me.”
“I noticed.”
“It should bother you.”
Renjiro returned to the window.
Shizuka entered the room and closed the door behind her.
“Kurogane-kun.”
“Sensei.”
“What?”
He looked toward the lights beyond the palace.
“Do you know what farmers need?”
Shizuka stared.
“What?”
“Land.”
Her expression slowly changed.
Renjiro continued.
“Land is usually outside cities.”
Understanding arrived.
“No.”
“Probably.”
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“I know that face.”
“What face?”
“The one you make when you have already decided something.”
Renjiro said nothing.
Shizuka pointed at him.
“No disappearing.”
“I haven’t disappeared.”
“No secretly leaving the capital.”
“I haven’t.”
“No joining the Adventurer Guild without telling me.”
Renjiro paused.
Shizuka’s eyes widened.
“Kurogane-kun.”
He looked away.
“Oh my God.”
Renjiro glanced at her.
“Apparently there are several here.”
“That is not the point.”
The corner of Renjiro’s mouth moved.
Outside, Aureum glowed beneath an unfamiliar sky.
Inside, the Imperial notice remained in Shizuka’s hand.
Agricultural Aptitude Consultation.
Farmer.
Land.
A path Valentia believed would move him quietly toward irrelevance.
Renjiro saw something else.
A door.
And if they opened it for him—
he had every intention of walking through.
End of Chapter 10