Sorry, I refuse.
Clenching his fists, Scribe studied the other man's reaction.
Can you tell me why you refuse?
Tsugikuni Iwashiro frowned. Though a surge of anger rose within him, he continued speaking.
You should know my strength very well. Though I am inferior to Yoriichi, I am still second in this so-called Demon Slayer Corps.
What's more, Yoriichi simply doesn't know how to express his emotions.
If you want to make a name for yourself in this Warring States period where heroes vie for supremacy, then I am your best choice!
Spreading his arms, Tsugikuni Iwashiro, who had always appeared cold and detached, glared with wide eyes, his expression growing somewhat ferocious.
Scribe, I'll ask you one last time!
Will you choose me, or Yoriichi?!
Seeing Scribe fall silent, Tsugikuni Iwashiro seemed to see hope.
Since he could not surpass Yoriichi in swordsmanship and other areas, he would steal Yoriichi's only disciple.
That way, he could be considered to have beaten Yoriichi once.
However, the nod Tsugikuni Iwashiro had imagined never came.
The only thing that greeted him was Scribe's cold gaze.
A teacher for a day, a father for life.
He raised me, so he is the only master I, Scribe, will ever have!
Having said that, Scribe charged forward again, intending to fight Tsugikuni Iwashiro once more.
Stubborn fool!
With a cold snort, Tsugikuni Iwashiro moved as well.
The deep red Demon Slayer Marks on his left forehead and right neck faintly glowed, as if they had come alive.
A fierce glint flashed through his eyes as Tsugikuni Iwashiro threw a straight right punch at Scribe.
A thunderous boom rang beside his ears. Katsumi's punch seemed capable of tearing the air apart.
Damn, I forgot that Tsugikuni Iwashiro's Demon Slayer Mark is permanently active!
Seeing Tsugikuni Iwashiro's punch, Scribe finally realized what he had been overlooking.
The Demon Slayer Mark!
As an ability that borrowed power from the heavens, the Demon Slayer Mark greatly enhanced one's physical abilities after it was awakened.
The stronger a swordsman was, the more easily he could awaken a Demon Slayer Mark under the influence of another Mark bearer.
Tsugikuni Iwashiro had long since awakened his Demon Slayer Mark under Tsugikuni Yoriichi's influence.
Even without a Nichirin Blade to use Breathing techniques, he was still a humanoid tyrannosaur!
With no time to mount much of a defense, Scribe crossed his arms before his body.
Tsugikuni Iwashiro's fist smashed heavily into Scribe's arms, and the immense force sent him flying.
A faint sound of bones cracking rang out, followed by waves of searing pain.
Scribe knew that the bones inside had already shattered.
Just moments ago, he had sent Tsugikuni Iwashiro crashing out of the house. In the blink of an eye, he was the one being blasted back inside.
His flying body smashed through two walls before finally becoming embedded in a third.
Cough, cough. So this was what it felt like to get punched into a wall.
Coughing up the blood that had accumulated in his chest, Scribe wiped the corner of his mouth and painfully pulled himself out of the wall.
Tsugikuni Iwashiro was somewhat surprised to see Scribe walk out of the house.
You're not dead?
No one understood the power behind that punch better than Tsugikuni Iwashiro.
He had truly thrown that punch with the intention of killing Scribe.
If he could not have him, then he would destroy him completely!
Yeah, I'm not dead. Is that disappointing for you?
Shaking his dizzy head, Scribe clenched his fists again.
Sorry to keep you waiting. Let's continue.
Looking at Scribe's refusal to yield, Tsugikuni Iwashiro inwardly praised Yoriichi for finding such a good disciple.
But the higher his evaluation of Scribe became, the more he wanted to possess him.
And the more that was the case, the more he wanted to destroy him.
Scribe, you are a very fine disciple.
Tsugikuni Iwashiro's clenched right fist cracked as if he were gathering strength.
His bulging muscles and veins stretched his clothes tight, forming twisting grooves.
In your next life, remember to choose a good master!
Having gathered enough strength, Tsugikuni Iwashiro let out a roar.
No, this life isn't over yet.
Sensing something suddenly, Scribe relaxed his body.
Just as Tsugikuni Iwashiro was confused, several voices sounded from outside the courtyard.
What happened?
Honored guests, may I ask what happened inside?!
Accompanied by the sound of a heavy impact, the courtyard gate was smashed open.
More than a dozen swordsmiths led by Tie He rushed in, carrying all sorts of weapons.
Seeing Scribe and Tsugikuni Iwashiro in the courtyard, Tie He urgently asked,
What happened to you two? Did a demon invade?!
As a swordsmith who forged blades year-round, the only threat Tie He could think of was a demon.
No, no demon invaded.
Scribe patted the dust off himself and smiled.
The two of us just took a fall.
A Fall?! The Swordsmiths in Danger
Hearing that answer, Tie He nearly choked.
What kind of fall can bring down a house?
How did you manage to tell us you merely took a fall while looking like you'd been beaten half to death?
Though he could not help feeling speechless at Scribe, Tie He knew they would not get an answer.
Left with no choice, he could only arrange another room for Scribe and Tsugikuni Iwashiro.
After Tie He and the others arrived, Tsugikuni Iwashiro also put away his killing intent and returned to his usual demeanor.
He still needed the swordsmiths to forge his blade. He could not let them discover that he wanted to kill a fellow Corps member.
Thus, after changing rooms, Scribe and Tsugikuni Iwashiro spent three peaceful days.
Over those three days, Scribe successfully recuperated from the fracture in his arm.
At noon on the fourth day, Tie He sent someone to notify Scribe.
All the materials have been prepared. The forging is about to begin!
Led by that swordsmith, Scribe arrived at a sword-forging workshop in a corner of the village.
You've worked hard.
After signaling for the swordsmith who had led the way to leave, Tie He brought Scribe inside the workshop.
The moment he entered, Scribe was stunned by the scene within.
Forging hammers of every size, molds of all shapes, and buckets filled with cooling water.
In one corner lay a pile of materials for forging blades.
Jin Shushu and the other three, who had previously been selected to assist with the forging, stood before their own forging stations.
It was obvious that Tie He and the other four had expended considerable manpower and resources on this forging.
For this forging, the collection of materials alone emptied the entire village's reserves.
Leading Scribe to his own station, Tie He's eyes were filled with excitement.
I can guarantee that, whether in the past or future, no Nichirin Blade will ever surpass this one.
With that, Tie He stepped onto the main forging platform and raised a large hammer high.
Without further delay, I declare the forging begun!
As soon as he spoke, Tie He swung his hammer and smashed it down upon a piece of raw iron before him.
A crisp metallic clang rang out, announcing the beginning of the forging of the strongest Nichirin Blade in history!
Before Scribe lay chunks of deep red stone.
They were Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron!
Refined from Tamahagane, it was one of the most important components of a Nichirin Blade.
What Scribe needed to do was forge these small pieces of Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron into a single whole.
Though it sounded simple, it was incredibly difficult.
Every piece of Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron was an independent entity. After being refined from Tamahagane, it had become what it was now.
To fuse them into one whole, the swordsmith needed to raise the temperature to its utmost limit.
He had to turn all the Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron into liquid!
After considering it briefly, Scribe immediately began forging.
He piled the furnace full of firewood and accelerants, first raising the temperature of the entire furnace.
Blazing flames burned in the furnace, and even the air became scorching hot.
Before long, the entire furnace had been heated red, with hints of blue even appearing.
A bead of sweat slid down his forehead, only to evaporate into steam before it could fully fall.
Almost there. Now!
Gripping a piece of Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron with iron tongs, Scribe carefully placed it at the very top of the furnace.
As heat transferred through it, changes quickly appeared under the influence of the extreme temperature.
Bit by bit, the part of the Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron in contact with the furnace softened, like a small piece of deep red jelly.
Good, just like that. Keep heating it until the semi-solid melts into a liquid.
A trace of delight flashed through Scribe's eyes as he continued adding firewood to the furnace.
However, the Scarlet Scarlet Sand Iron refined from red crystal Tamahagane possessed properties that still exceeded Scribe's expectations.
As the amount of red jelly increased, the rate at which it softened grew slower and slower.
In the end, it did not show even the slightest sign of liquefying.
Before you continue