Yeah, they had never encountered anything like this before.
I'd bet this Nichirin Blade would definitely be a masterpiece!
Just as Jin Shushu and the others were discussing it, Tie He frowned and turned to roar.
Quiet! Mister Scribe hasn't come out yet!
As soon as the village chief spoke, the previously noisy swordsmiths instantly fell silent.
They all stared fixedly at the door, like children waiting for their parents to feed them.
To them, seeing the finished product was the greatest happiness.
As Tie He and the others nervously swallowed, footsteps sounded from inside the room.
All of a sudden, Tie He and the others felt a chill run down their backs, cold sweat pouring down them.
Immediately afterward, an indescribable chill swept across their skin.
With their hair standing on end, they saw Mister Scribe emerge.
And a Nichirin Blade!
The black blade was streaked with faint scarlet, as though blood were flowing within it.
Though the sun hung high in the sky, Tie He and the others still felt the air around them turn chilly.
This was...
Swallowing, Tie He took several steps forward, wanting to say something.
Mister Scribe nodded and said,
"If I remember correctly, Nichirin Blades are also called color-changing blades, right?"
"That's right."
"However, without a certain level of swordsmanship, a Nichirin Blade won't change color."
The moment he finished speaking, Tie He realized he had said something pointless.
As Yoriichi's disciple, and someone who had personally obtained red crystal Tamahagane, how could Mister Scribe possibly be unable to make a Nichirin Blade change color?
Raising the Nichirin Blade above his head, Mister Scribe pointed it toward the sun.
He silently activated Sun Breathing, and an indescribable sensation spread through his body.
A current of energy within him was drawn toward the Nichirin Blade and slowly merged into its blade.
Then, before Tie He and the others' stunned eyes, the Nichirin Blade slowly began to change color.
A flash of red lit up at the hilt, creeping along the blade and gradually covering the entire sword.
In the end, the black Nichirin Blade turned a vivid red.
Tie He's eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly as he muttered,
"A peerless blade... the Crimson Blade."
A Matching Scabbard—I Will Pass Down Your Swordsmanship Forever
"So this is the so-called Crimson Blade."
Feeling the warmth emanating from the Nichirin Blade, Mister Scribe's eyes were filled with delight.
"What a fine sword."
When he stopped using Sun Breathing, the crimson blade slowly returned to black.
"Mister Scribe, it seems you really like this Nichirin Blade."
Walking forward, Tie He congratulated Mister Scribe.
"Yes. I have a feeling this Nichirin Blade will accompany me for the rest of my life."
His fingers brushed over the blade as he felt the remaining warmth upon it and smiled.
"I just don't know where I'm supposed to find a scabbard."
Laughing heartily, Tie He clapped his hands and shouted to Jin Shushu and the others behind him.
"Hey, what did I tell you? We didn't prepare it for nothing."
"A bet's a bet. Hurry up and say it!"
Jin Shushu and the others gave bitter smiles and shouted in unison.
"I, Jin Shushu, accept my loss and admit that I was a pig today!"
"I, Tie Ke, accept my loss and admit that I was a pig today!"
After shouting, they jogged away.
It looked like they were going to retrieve something.
Having won the bet against Jin Shushu and the others, Tie He explained with great satisfaction.
"As the saying goes, a beauty deserves a hero, and a treasured sword deserves a hero. A good sword needs a good scabbard to match."
"Even before forging the sword, we had already prepared a scabbard made exclusively for this Nichirin Blade!"
"Trust me, you'll definitely be satisfied."
After a short while, Jin Shushu, Tie Ke, and the others came over carrying a huge chest on their backs.
With a bang, they set the chest down, then collapsed directly onto the ground, panting heavily.
As he stroked the surface of the chest, Tie He's expression held both reverence and envy.
"Inside is a scabbard forged by the very first generation of Swordsmith Village's swordsmiths."
"This scabbard has been worshipped in our temple by generations of swordsmiths, all to wait for a Nichirin Blade worthy of it!"
"Now, Mister Scribe, this scabbard is yours!"
With that, Tie He opened the chest, peeled away layer after layer of protection, and took out the scabbard within.
The scabbard was a dark bluish-black throughout, slightly longer than the Nichirin Blade and just the right size to fit it.
Its outer surface was engraved with intricate patterns that seemed both like blessings and entrusted hopes.
Even more rarely, the scabbard itself was not particularly heavy and did not hinder Mister Scribe's movements in the slightest.
When Mister Scribe slid the Nichirin Blade into the scabbard, he was surprised to find that the two fit together perfectly.
It was as though they had originally been one.
Fate really is a marvelous thing.
With a sigh in his heart, Mister Scribe fastened it at his waist.
"Thank you, Village Chief Tie He. I'm extremely satisfied with this scabbard."
"I promise it will accompany me for the rest of my life, just like this Nichirin Blade!"
Looking at the imposing and dignified Mister Scribe before him, Tie He was overwhelmed with excitement.
"Good, good. As long as you like it."
"This scabbard has finally found its owner."
Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, Tie He shouted,
"Boys, to celebrate, we're drinking until we drop tonight!"
Watching the cheering crowd before him, Mister Scribe smiled as well.
Late that night, after the celebration had ended, Mister Scribe lay resting in the room Tie He had arranged for him.
Originally, this banquet had been meant as a chance for Tie He and the others to get him drunk.
But when Mister Scribe said, "I can't drink alcohol," they realized that tragic fact.
Whenever he thought of Tie He and the others staring at him resentfully while drinking in frustration, Mister Scribe found it rather amusing.
This trip to Swordsmith Village had truly brought him enormous gains.
Aside from obtaining a peerless sword, Mister Scribe's sword-forging skill had also improved.
Skill: Master-Level Sword Forging (3,000,000/10,000,000)
After forging the Nichirin Blade, Mister Scribe's sword-forging skill had soared directly to the master level, becoming his first master-level skill!
By Mister Scribe's estimate, his current sword-forging ability had probably already surpassed Tie He's.
If he wished, he could even forge another Nichirin Blade like this one.
Of course, Mister Scribe also understood that this was only theoretically possible.
A peerless blade like the Crimson Blade was not so easily recreated.
If miracles happened all the time, could they still be called miracles?
"I should head back tomorrow."
Turning over, Mister Scribe felt a little tired and prepared to sleep.
Just then, Tie He's voice suddenly came from outside the door.
"Mister Scribe, it's me, Tie He. Are you asleep?"
Though he did not know why Tie He had come looking for him so late, Mister Scribe still answered.
"I'm not asleep. Come in."
Pushing open the door, Tie He walked in.
There was someone else with him.
Tie Ke!
The moment they met, Tie Ke dropped to his knees and gave Mister Scribe a deep bow.
"Mister Scribe, thank you so much for today."
"If you hadn't helped me, I, Tie Ke, would probably have become a corpse long ago."
Waving his hand, Mister Scribe shook his head and smiled faintly.
"It was nothing. If we're keeping score like that, I should be thanking you for helping forge my sword."
"Without you, I probably wouldn't have gotten such a fine sword either."
Hearing Mister Scribe praise him like that, Tie Ke quickly raised his head, looking somewhat flustered.
"No, no. Being able to participate in forging this sword was already the greatest honor imaginable for us swordsmiths."
After saying that, Tie Ke suddenly fell silent.
He gently bit down on his lip, his expression conflicted as though he wanted to say something.
Tie He tilted his head toward him, and displeasure immediately appeared on his slightly flushed, drunken face.
Kicking Tie Ke in the backside, Tie He poked his head and said,
"If you've got something to say, then say it. You're a grown man in your thirties—why are you hemming and hawing?"
After being scolded by his uncle, the introverted Tie Ke finally gathered his courage and voiced his request.
"Mister Scribe, I heard that you are the inheritor of Sun Breathing. I ask to pass down your swordsmanship!"
Not understanding, Mister Scribe failed to grasp Tie Ke's meaning.
Tie Ke himself did not look like he wanted to learn Sun Breathing.
Then how exactly was this so-called passing down of swordsmanship supposed to work?
Unable to watch any longer, Tie He cleared his throat and explained.
"My nephew is not only talented at sword forging, but also quite skilled with machinery."