Musashi looked utterly smitten with the blade she had used the previous night, a weapon worthy of being called a [Great Work].
"Should I be calling you Grandpa?"
With none of last night's life-or-death tension remaining, Musashi had calmed down. She hesitated briefly over whether she should call this absurdly youthful-looking man "Grandpa"—but it did not last long, since she cared far more about the sword in her hands.
"Though I once swore I would never own a fifth sword, this one—it's simply too exceptional! So it's acceptable, and worthwhile!"
"Quiet down, you restless little thing!"
The grandfather with the appearance of a young man spoke with some impatience, frowning as he glanced at Musashi and the sword in her hand.
"You can take that sword. No need to hold back."
The old man closed his eyes.
"Consider it thanks for bringing O-Nui and Tasuke back to the grass hut. No one was able to use that sword to begin with. If I can use it as a gift of thanks, then that suits me just fine."
"Huh? You're really willing to give it to me?"
Musashi's eyes went wide, her face full of disbelief.
Could such a treasured sword really be obtained so easily?
"Since I have said it, I will never go back on my word."
The old man folded his arms, keeping it brief.
"However, I must still remind you of one thing."
His gaze shifted slightly aside.
"That is a failed work."
"It is an imitation demon blade that, for certain reasons, accidentally touched upon the demonic realm."
"The ultimate blade I pursue is not some sword that merely cuts flesh and severs bone. If that were all it took, any blade could accomplish it. Even a kitchen knife from the market could do that."
"I