Mubay County, Eagle Cape Village. Seven in the evening.
The sunset outside had already gone down, and the cold storm that came with the Wild Hunt's arrival swept over the village.
At Hai Na's home, the entire family had gathered in the blazing smithy. The furnace lit by Fire Essence dispelled the chill, while everyone clustered around the small Sherlock.
"Give it a try, Arthur. You put a lot of your own effort into this, too."
The Magnetic Hammer Master encouragingly handed the cane to Sherlock.
Sherlock froze for a moment before reacting. He had almost forgotten that his alias in Eagle Cape Village was Arthur Conan Doyle.
He lowered his head and examined it. It was an utterly unremarkable black cane. It looked like a tree that had burned to ashes, with a few sparks still glowing amid the blackness.
Little Sherlock slowly took the cane with both hands and planted it on the ground.
The cane was even slightly taller than he was. He had to lift his hands high just to barely grip its handle.
But when Sherlock pulled down hard, the cane retracted section by section in a spiral, sinking downward.
—Even with his current child-sized body, he could use it normally.
Sherlock aimed it at the air and swung it hard—
The cane unfolded like a beast's spine, transforming into a blade whip. Countless sharp, icy blades brought to mind a coiled snake.
He rotated the handle slightly, and with a snap, it turned back into a cane.
Sherlock aimed at the air and swung the cane with great force.
The cane emitted a sharp whistle as it cut through the air, leaving behind streaks of black serpentine shadows.
Then little Sherlock gripped the cane again and gave it a slight push forward. A fireball