Chapter 7 of the Academy's Weapon Replicator

Chapter 2: The Branch in the Coffin, Misteltain (3)

A sharp crushing sound. It was enough to freeze everyone present.

The divine punishment is coming...

No one dared to speak out of the tension.

"Huh?"

"W-What's this?"

At that moment, the branch inside the coffin 'slid out.'

Literally, what had been a branch until a moment ago was now flowing as black liquid, pouring out due to gravity.

"I told you. It's fake."

Frondeur extended his hand toward the flowing black liquid.

The surrounding nobles shuddered.

"Y-You can touch that..."

Frondeur caught the black liquid in his hand. The liquid flowed through his fingers.

But when Frondeur clenched his fist,

"Hmm?"

The liquid turned back into metal in his fist, and when he released it, it turned back into liquid and flowed down.

"Wh-What a strange thing."

"..."

At that moment, Elodie seemed to recall something and spoke up.

"Viscoelasticity."

"Huh? What?"

Frondeur smiled in agreement at Elodie's words.

"That's right. This material is a viscoelastic metal."

"What does that mean?"

"Simply put, it becomes solid when force is applied, but it turns back into a liquid when left alone."

However, it is impossible for a metal to have such properties.

Viscoelastic materials are soft when they solidify because they retain elasticity and viscosity. They cannot become as hard as metal.

While it wasn't Mistletoe, this black liquid was undoubtedly a magical metal.

"Then, what about the branch that looked like Mistletoe just now?"

"Someone must have infused it with magical power through a spell to mimic its appearance. Since magical power is a form of force, this coffin probably served that purpose."

"Wow..."

Only then did a sense of relief spread among the people. If it wasn't a divine artifact, there would be no divine punishment.

Ortel asked,

"But how did you know? That this item was fake."

"It's the same as what the elders thought. Mistletoe is the weapon that killed the god Baldur. If this were the real branch, Baldur would not have let it pass."

Frondeur hid the fact that he knew the original appearance of Mistletoe.

Excessive knowledge can undermine credibility.

"And I've never heard of Mistletoe being stored in a coffin."

"That's true, but is that enough?"

What Frondeur said was common knowledge to everyone.

The probability that this branch was the real Mistletoe was certainly not high.

However, no matter how low the probability, one wouldn't take a gamble when their life was on the line.

If one were to mistakenly trigger divine punishment, a fate worse than death awaited.

"As I said, I'm not afraid of divine punishment. And..."

Frondeur poured the black liquid into a glass bottle on the table.

The liquid, which turned into metal when force was applied, flowed easily into the bottle.

Then, Frondeur said with a serious look,

"I can't bear the thought of this thing being exchanged for my father's sword."

Everyone fell silent for a moment.

But soon, a hearty laugh broke the silence.

"Hahaha! I was completely fooled. I showed a shameful face in front of these young people."

It was 'Zodiac' Heldre.

He burst into a hearty laugh, unlike his age, and approached Frondeur, placing a hand on his head.

"What's your name again?"

"Frondeur."

"Frondeur, right. I won't forget that name."

Heldre then looked at Ampere.

"Ampere, you have a filial son."

"─I have nothing to add."

"Since I didn't have to hand over Gram thanks to my son, shouldn't I give him a gift?"

Heldre's wrinkled face had a playful glint in his eyes.

Ampere didn't seem too pleased.

"I was originally going to scold him severely."

"Come on. Didn't you hear? He's not afraid of divine punishment. No one here would dare say that. Perhaps even the gods might want such a bold young man."

Ampere lowered his eyes for a moment.

Ultimately, Frondeur's actions were correct. There was no need to sell Gram, and he prevented further rivalry among the families.

Bringing Mistletoe would not be the end of the matter. With attacks on the family becoming more frequent, there was no need to invite unnecessary envy.

However,

"It's too result-oriented to praise you, Frondeur."

"..."

"Sorry, Father."

"Your actions were very dangerous, incomparable to anything before. Normally, I would have held you strictly accountable and educated you to never repeat such a mistake. Consider yourself fortunate that I'm not doing so."

"I will keep that in mind."

Frondeur bowed silently.

Seeing his gesture, which showed no hint of regret, Ampere sighed.

"However, considering the value of Gram, I can't just let this go."

"Hmm?"

Lidwig added an unnecessary interjection.

Ampere said,

"If you have any requests, speak up."

Frondeur's eyes showed a rare hint of confusion, a rare emotion in his usually indifferent gaze.

"Um, then..."

Frondeur placed his hand to his mouth as if thinking, then looked up.

"I want to see Gram. The inside of the scabbard."

"Hmm."

"Oh!"

Short exclamations of admiration erupted from the surrounding people.

Ampere's prized possession, the divine artifact 'Gram.'

Seeing it in person was a rare opportunity.

Everyone's eyes lit up at Frondeur's request.

"Is that enough?"

"Of course."

Ampere thought for a moment.

While it might seem insufficient as a reward for Frondeur's actions, he had no choice.

Ampere placed his hand on the Gram laid out on the table.

The sword, hidden in its scabbard.

Everyone watched Ampere's movements closely.

'...How?'

But in that brief moment, only Quinie had a different thought.

'How did he break it?'

Frondeur was bare-handed.

He only placed his hand on the coffin, not striking it with a fist, yet the coffin broke instantly.

Could it be magic? Without any incantation?

If not...

'Aura, perhaps.'

Quinie swallowed hard.

Anyone who could emit aura bare-handed was not at a student's level.

However, he couldn't be sure yet. Emitting aura meant releasing energy, but he felt no flow of energy.

But if he really used aura just now, and it was a momentary burst that no one else could feel...

He must be brought to our side, no matter what.

The scabbard was slowly removed, revealing the blade inside, reflecting the light.

"Oh, this is..."

The nobles' eyes sparkled.

The famous sword Gram, wielded by the hero Sigurd.

Despite its fame, Gram looked surprisingly rugged.

Beautiful patterns flowed along the blade, but they weren't so exquisite as to be considered divine craftsmanship.

However,

"..."

Silence fell over the room.

This weapon could not be judged by its appearance alone.

Just lying there, it weighed heavily on the air.

The aura was chilling, and the blade felt as if it had been born in its current form, radiating a concentrated power from top to bottom.

'Even I, who don't use swords, can tell. Divine artifacts are truly different.'

Quinie marveled inwardly.

Unable to resist, he tried to estimate the value of this weapon, but let that pass for now.

What about Frondeur, who initiated this request?

Curious, he turned his gaze.

"..."

Quinie held his breath.

He quickly averted his gaze, worried that Frondeur might notice.

'What's with that look?'

Frondeur was also looking at Gram.

With a pure face. With pure eyes.

But that 'purity' was far from peaceful.

Frondeur looked at Gram with pure, almost devouring eyes, as if he really could.

The way he gazed at Gram, it was...

A look that violated taboos.

* * *

"Aster, did you hear the news?"

"Huh? What news?"

Aster responded to his friend Tain's excitement.

Tain, a commoner like Aster, had quickly become friends with him.

Aster was so famous that Tain approached him with almost fan-like enthusiasm, and their personalities matched well.

"Didn't you see the news? About Mistletoe!"

"Ah... I went to bed early yesterday."

Aster scratched his head, speaking in an awkward voice.

It was a lie.

Elin had taken away his Wizerview ticket, saying she had a romance movie to watch last night.

And then she said,

-It's not ours anyway, you can check it later. There are plenty of opportunities.

Damn. His sister was as rational as steel when it came to other people's affairs.

But she was a hopeless romantic.

"Frondeur broke the coffin!"

"..."

Aster's eyes widened.

It wasn't out of displeasure or anger, but a sense of foreboding about Frondeur's well-being.

"You mean the coffin where Mistletoe was stored?"

"Yeah! Well, it was a bit different!"

"What was different?"

"Turns out it wasn't Mistletoe. It was fake, they said!"

Tain continued in his excited tone.

Indeed, this was a big enough event to warrant excitement.

It was fake. So there would be no divine punishment, and no need to worry about Frondeur,

"Hold on. So Frondeur knew it was fake?"

"Maybe he had some reason to believe it? I mean, I wouldn't do it no matter what evidence I had!"

True. No one would do such a crazy thing, no matter how strong their suspicion.

...So, did he have more than just suspicion? Something only Frondeur knew?

"...It was fake."

Aster's eyes rolled.

Frondeur's voice from the previous day echoed in his mind.

-Don't worry, Aster Evans.

-I'll take away your worries.

He had thought it was a minor comfort, an impossible promise.

No matter which family got Mistletoe, Aster Evans would have felt a knife at his heart.

But, so that's it. He destroyed the knife for him.

...So that's it.

* * *

I sat in my dorm room, staring at the black liquid swirling in the glass bottle.

A viscoelastic metal.

In the meeting room, I had focused all my attention on maintaining an indifferent expression.

Originally, in the game, this fake Mistletoe had a high probability of being exchanged for Ampere's Gram.

It would be temporarily placed in a prominent spot in the Roach mansion, but the fake would be quickly exposed.

Without a mage to maintain the spell, the coffin would break on its own.

After that, Gram's fate was uncertain. It varied each time I played the game.

But no matter who got it, it would trigger a side event, a dangerous item indeed.

For now, it was still in my father's hands, so I could rest easy.

"Alright, then."

I placed a square frame on the desk and poured the metal from the glass bottle into it, filling the frame.

This metal, which I had thought was a 'rather peculiar material' during the game.

Originally, this metal was probably only useful for creating forgeries, mimicking something like Mistletoe.

But with Frondeur, perhaps...

He might push the metal's properties to over 100%.

I smiled, not hiding my excitement.

"From now on, I'll call you 'Black Stream.'"

I placed my hand over the Black Stream in the frame. The feeling of the liquid, which had no temperature, was still unfamiliar.

From now on, I would add 'Weaving' to this Black Stream.

Weaving (織造), Black Stream (黑川)

Workshop 1st Creation

Grade - Common

Iron Dagger

The image of the dagger in the workshop was engraved in the Black Stream.

Magical power was infused into the Black Stream, and it began to change shape.

And then,

"Done."

In my clenched fist, a dagger was held.

Finally.

Not an illusion, not an image.

A real, tangible black dagger.