Editor 47

The Asser Family’s Dinner (2)

The dinner lasted for three full hours.

It was the first formal dinner after reopening the capital mansion, and with Gideon visiting as well, the splendor of the table that day was beyond words.

Concentrating on her plate with the mindset that she should eat well before all the business began, Clayeo couldn’t help but harbor reasonable doubts.

‘Does Mrs. Canton use magic, too? How did she prepare all this in just half a day without magic?’

Four servants were mobilized for serving, and for each person, there were thirteen pieces of cutlery and five glasses set in an 8-course setting.

By the time the meal ended and the cheese board was served, the alcohol had turned Vasco’s cheeks and ears completely red.

“I heard a lot about you from Dione! You restored the Lyre of Terpsichore, didn’t you!”

Even though he was already a short nobleman, when he smiled like that, it was hard to believe he was over forty.

“That’s right. I, too, have long heard of Lord Greyer’s illustrious reputation.”

Forcing a businesslike smile, Clayeo poured more wine into Vasco’s glass instead of the servant.

“This fellow, even at a young age, you know how to say all the right things. But ‘Lord’ is too embarrassing—just call me Vasco! Hehe!”

“Uncle, you’re drunk. Please hold back a little.”

Dione gently restrained Vasco with a small voice.

“Haha, alright, I’ll listen to you. I shouldn’t let my mind get clouded by drinking if I want to talk properly.”

“Vasco, you said that a hundred times in Centrum too, but you never kept it.”

“Vlad, you always stab me with a knife behind that smiling face!”

Apparently, Vasco and Vlad had gotten close while traveling together on the Centrum continent.

“My eldest son tends to be a bit loose with etiquette. Thank you for your understanding.”

“Not at all, the thanks are all mine. Both Baron Junior and Vlad have always helped me greatly. For a trading company our size, visiting the Centrum continent is not easy.”

Centrum continent was located to the west of the Dernier continent. It was small to be called a continent, and large for an island.

Going to and from Centrum was not an easy task.

It was located in the middle of the ocean, with complicated and fierce currents, and near Centrum island, latitude and longitude measurements constantly went awry.

It was said to be due to the power of an ancient magic, or perhaps some curse.

Because of that, the sea between Centrum and the Dernier continent was once called the “end of the world.”

“Countless merchant ships don’t even reach the Centrum continent, ending up sunk at sea, so I was fortunate to accompany the Asser Trading Company.”

It was reasonable.

Clayeo, too, had heard that as long as you got to Centrum, there was a mountain of riches.

Ancient ruins, rare magical ore, and mana stones, now hard to find on Dernier, were still abundantly left in Centrum.

Now, the Asser Company had expanded into various fields, but at first, it gained its name for successfully conducting large-scale trade with Centrum.

Gideon’s secret was, surprisingly, simple. He never cut corners on labor or safety costs.

Judging by the looks of it, Vasco had also earned a decent share from this trip. Of course, with his searching and restoration abilities, Asser Trading Company must have profited greatly as well.

“Vasco, it was our fortune to travel with you. We excavated far more relics and veins. Come with us on the next trip too.”

“Yes, Vlad. If Baron Junior is willing to permit, I would always be glad to. I can leave the work of the capital to Dione and trust her!”

“Oh, Uncle.”

Dione covered her mouth with a fan and acted humbly.

“If you would accompany us on our expeditions, you are always welcome.”

“Thank you for saying so, Baron Junior! Oh my, look at me. I brought a gift, but completely forgot to take it out! Tonight’s dinner was so wonderful, I forgot all about it!”

Vasco thrust his hand deep into the spatial bag hanging on his chair and suddenly pulled out a metallic rod covered in rust. The rod was about a meter long.

“Clayeo! Slaying the monster was something, but hearing about the Lyre, I knew I had to give you this!”

Dione quickly called a servant to clear away the cups and plates in front of Vasco.

Everyone in the formal dining room’s eyes gathered on the object in Vasco’s small hand. Clayeo used the “Understanding” function of “Promise.” Golden strings revealed the identity of the rod.

[Sword of Beg

—Heirloom

*Restoration Needed.]

Clayeo was so surprised that her chair scooted back a bit.

‘This! It’s been bothering me that Arthur only ever uses practice swords that keep breaking, but it’s perfect timing!’

For Arthur, a royal sword was meant to be prepared, but to obtain it, he first needed to become crown prince.

In the previous draft, before he became the crown prince, the weapon he used was the very “Beg’s Sword” from Vasco.

‘Heirloom grade? That’s an extraordinary weapon. It’ll withstand even Arthur’s brute strength.’

didn’t feature Vasco at all, but it seemed he was still playing his part after all.

“I found it on the Centrum continent. If it’s restored, it’ll be of considerable value! Would you like to try restoring it?”

“Thank you for such an undeserved gift. I’ll try my best.”

Not refusing the gift, Clayeo reached out her hand. But just as Vasco seemed ready to hand it over, he suddenly paused and asked,

“Do you know what this is?”

Though his face showed a pleasant drunkenness, Vasco’s eyes were clear.

He was definitely testing Clayeo.

‘He’s making the move first—a welcome turn of events.’

Clayeo took Vasco’s bait.

“I do.”

“Oh? Can you tell me what it is?”

“It’s an early form longsword with a relatively broad blade, usable on both edges.”

“Do you perhaps know its name?”

“Judging by its shape and era, I presume it is ‘Beg’s Sword.’ Beg was an ancient ruler of Centrum known from legends—a hero who united the people and defended God’s sanctuary from heretic invasion.”

Clayeo recited the draft’s content verbatim.

Anyone could see the author had borrowed the setting from the old hero of Albania, but in , it was the established history of Centrum.

“How did you know that at a glance?”

“I read it in a book.”

Clayeo straightened her shoulders confidently. Since she read it in the eighth draft of , it wasn’t a lie.

‘Vasco struggled through multiple ancient documents and traditions to figure out the sword’s background. It took a long time to craft the perfect spell too.’

“What kind of book…?”

“That, I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Ha! You’re quite something! Well, it’s rare for a mage to share their sources. If I have a chance to see the depth of your study later, I’ll be very pleased. I, too, found clues in old texts, but your depth, for your age, is unbelievable.”

“You flatter me.”

“Could you perhaps try restoring it now? I honestly can’t wait!”

“Right now?”

“Why not?! If you need any materials, I’ll have the secretary get them from our company!”

Clayeo glanced at her father, brother, and tutor, but no one seemed intent on stopping Vasco.

Dione just shook her head, and Vlad looked excited too, apparently interested.

‘Ugh… Did I show off a little too much?’

It was too late to regret. Realizing there was no way out, Clayeo had no choice but to step onto the stage Vasco had set.

“Lord Vasco. In my opinion, there’s no need for the secretary to go fetch anything.”

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While the others moved from the dining room to the parlor, Clayeo went upstairs to her bedroom and rummaged through her spatial pouch.

Alongside bronze, a piece of forged mana stone pig iron was neatly stored.

‘I never got a chance to use this. I’m using it for something unexpected.’

It was a magical medium for the spell [Fire of the Angel of the Principalities], which she’d been planning after [Spear of Achilles].

For that, she’d asked Dione to get her both bronze and pig iron.

‘As long as I have pig iron, it’s enough to restore a sword.’

Putting the magical pig iron piece in her pouch, Clayeo went down to the parlor. Everyone was chatting with port wine after dinner.

The metallic rod lay on the table, covered with a tablecloth.

Holding their glasses, the company loosely ringed the table.

“You’re back? I’ll get to see my younger sibling’s hidden talent!”

“So well-prepared, having all the materials in the house~.”

“It wasn’t planned. Just happened to have something handy by chance.”

“Hmmm, is the rumor about having the ‘Stigma of Foresight’ nonsense, or real?”

“Well, Lord Vasco, judge for yourself. I don’t know if the restoration will go well either… but I’ll try my best.”

Though her words were modest, Clayeo’s manner was bold and calm. The situation had rolled out very suddenly, but there was a shortcut in this case.

‘There’s a spell in the previous draft that Vasco used to restore this sword.’

Her father, brother, Dione, and Vasco all watched Clayeo.

She didn’t like being the center of attention, but with things as they were, even if you fall, you have to grab onto something and get up.

Might as well use this as an opportunity to make a strong impression on both Vasco and her father.

Approaching the table, Clayeo inspected Beg’s Sword closely. Once sharp, the blade was now nothing but a reddish lump of rust.

Sweeping the blade’s surface, Clayeo took out a bundle of pig iron from her pouch.

If it were a complex artifact like the lyre, that might be hard, but for a sword blade, it wouldn’t be difficult.

‘Just restore the blade, and the hilt and sheath can be made with ordinary skill.’

“Well then… I’ll give it a try.”

Clayeo unfolded the magic circle at minimal scale. With her level up, the narrower she drew it, the more concentrated the aether and the brighter the circle shone.

Dione, used to it, hurriedly stepped back, but the Asser father and son, who saw Clayeo’s circle for the first time, were astonished.

Seeing is believing.

No matter what they’d heard, witnessing the unsociable, untalented youngest creating such an intense magical circle right before their eyes was shocking.

Vasco, excited, actually moved closer to Clayeo’s circle and admired its brightness, reaching out his hand.

“Amazing aether. Really amazing!”

Amid the aether’s light circling the magic circle like a crown, Clayeo floated up the [Restoration] spell.

Its clear form was so vivid it seemed you could touch it like freshly poured gold.

Even Dione, who’d seen Clayeo’s lyre [Restoration] before, folded her fan and held her breath.

Only a few months had passed, but Clayeo’s magic was now at a level incomparable to before.

Now focusing solely on her magic, Clayeo repeated in her mind the incantation she had read in the draft, timing it carefully.

This sword was the very relic wielded by the ruler who defended the god and people with valor. The spell honored him in the same way.

When the spell diagram was at its brightest, Clayeo chanted the incantation.

“[Restore the will of the ruler who protected god and his people!]”

With the chant, the aether’s light rose, burning like molten gold and surging through the parlor.

No one could keep their eyes open.

Even though they weren’t in the circle’s area, it felt almost as if their bodies were swept up.

Only after a long while did the shocking whirl of light subside.

Standing quietly, Clayeo was holding the blade, wrapped in cloth.

No hint of surprise or pride in what she had done, the boy simply examined the restored sword with a calm expression.

The blade was made of damascus steel, its unique waves covering the entire surface.

With Clayeo’s movements, the parlor’s light shimmered dark and bright across the delicate patterns.

As the boy set the sword back upon the table, the blade silently sliced through the covering cloth.

The smoothly cut tablecloth slipped quietly to the floor.

It was a formidable item, sharp and keen.

“The blade is sharp. It’s dangerous as it is, so a new hilt and sheath must be made.”

The usual sly smile had disappeared from Vasco’s face as he watched the boy.