A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

For the first time, Bray felt incredibly lucky to have encountered such a terrible situation.

"Clang-crack-"

Bray shook his back, and the sword made a crisp sound.

"Broken Sword, please guide me in the future."

This is the first time Bray has ever owned his own sword.

Stepping on the fallen leaves, Bray walked straight ahead, one step at a time.

After walking for a while, Bray stopped.

A twisted corpse was moving on the ground.

The clothes on the body were still very new, with very few tears.

The twisted corpse had a face filled with terror.

There was no sound; the body simply moved along the ground, heading in an unknown direction.

Bray walked to the side of the corpse, squatted down, and picked up the dagger next to the body.

Bray wiped the dead leaves and dirt off the dagger and put it in the pocket of the bewildered dead man's clothes.

"May you find peace soon, my friend the thief." Bray gave a wry smile.

Brushing the mud off his trouser legs, Bray stood up and continued walking in the same direction.

As long as you keep walking straight, you will surely be able to leave this cemetery that belongs to the deceased.

Bray's arrival brought a bit of unease to this ancient cemetery.

But such disturbances are probably just a small ripple to the Tomb of Wandering.

The Tomb of the Wanderer: No living person shall enter. The matter of the Tomb of the Wanderer did not have a particularly significant impact on Bray.

Everything was normal, everything was fine, at least that's what Bray thought.

If there is any change, it is that Bray now has his own sword.

It's a pity that the sword is chipped, and quite badly so.

Bray thought that since it was his first sword, he should at least fix it properly.

Generally speaking, a dull blade can be resharpened. Although the "complete loss of sound" problem is quite serious, it should still be possible to sharpen it properly with considerable effort.

So, with the 500G he had recently earned in his pocket, Bray excitedly ran to the blacksmith shop.

"Boss, take a look at this sword for me!!! It's chipped." Bray pushed open the wooden door of the blacksmith's shop and slammed the sword on the counter with a "bang".

"I...I'm not the boss!!!" Behind the counter, a pink-haired girl waved her hands frantically.

"This person looks so scary!!! So scary!!!!"

"A robber?! Is he a robber?!"

Bray, with his eye patch, easily evokes the image of "brutality."

The girl's pale face made Bray speechless.

Actually, Bray is quite handsome, but unfortunately the eye patch adds a lot of ferocity to him.

The girl's reaction deepened the despair in Bray's dead fish eyes.

—"As expected, it's impossible for me to have any interaction with females."

The shouting at the counter startled the blacksmith who was forging iron.

"Hey!! Who's yelling in someone else's store?!"

"Is that you!!!! You brat!!!"

Although Bray really wanted to say that he was actually twenty years old, he kept quiet after seeing that his boss was at least sixty.

At sixty, one certainly has the right to call oneself a kid.

"Hmm, this sword?" The shopkeeper's eyes lit up when he saw the sword on the table.

"Yes, this sword is chipped. I'd like to ask you to fix it."

The boss simply nodded without saying a word and picked up the sword on his own.

"Do you want to sharpen it?" the boss asked Bray.

"Hmm...it's very expensive?" Bray's heart sank when he saw the boss's expression.

Is this an expression of someone about to be slaughtered?

As Brehus was lost in thought, he heard the blacksmith's sigh.

"It's not a very expensive problem, I can't fix it."

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!"

The scream didn't come from Bray, but from the girl who had been hiding behind the boss.

"Even Dad can't fix it?" The girl looked at the sword in disbelief.

“Dad…Dad!!!??” Bray’s face was filled with terror.

The girl was at most ten years old, while the boss was at least sixty.

"My goddaughter, is there a problem?" The boss glared at Bray, whose earlier exclamation had made the girl blush deeply.

“No problem…” Bray shrank back, realizing that it was indeed impolite to discuss other people’s family situations.

"Um, boss, is it really impossible to stall?"

"If you can't get it right, you can find someone else." The boss pounded his stiff shoulders from forging iron.

"I've never seen this sword made of any material before... but I can guarantee that it's both very hard and flexible, something I'm not skilled enough to handle. What on earth did it cut into to cause such severe damage?"

"Hey!!! Daddy is the most..."

"Waaaaah!!!!!" The girl, who was about to speak, had her mouth covered by the boss.

"It's hard to imagine that such a sword would be in the hands of a novice adventurer like you."

"Well, I found it."

"Ruins or something?"

"No, it's a cemetery."

"...You adventurers really are capable of anything." The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes as he looked at Bray.

Bray chuckled dryly; he couldn't very well say that a dead man had given him this sword.

"In short, it will be the same no matter which blacksmith you go to, but if you want to sell it to me, I can offer a high price."

"Never mind." Bray shook his head.

Then he left the blacksmith shop directly.

"Hey! This robber is so rude!" the girl pouted and complained.

"A robber?" The shopkeeper looked at the girl with suspicion.

"Yeah!! Wearing an eye patch and all that... doesn't he just look like a robber!?"

"..." The boss wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and said, "Let's just say that."

---

I really want to sell you.

Bray stared at the "swan song" and muttered to himself.

"But at least it's my first sword..."

Bray touched the blade and found that no blood was flowing from his finger.

This is way too dull!

Bray seriously doubted what this sword could be used to cut.

It seems it can only be used to smash people.

Even when smashing things, Bray was worried that the entire sword would break.

---

In a place I don't know, there was a blacksmith's shop.

The blacksmith in the blacksmith shop was an old man with white hair.

However, his body was full of powerful muscles, and you couldn't tell that the old man had entered his twilight years.

"Master, you're still forging swords..." A young man, who had just woken up, walked into the blacksmith's room and was surprised to find the old man forging swords.

"If you don't practice your sword-forging skills, you'll regress."

"I think Master might be able to forge a famous sword in a while," the young man said, looking at the old man with anticipation.

"Heh heh, there are many famous swords, but I'm not good enough for them."

"How could that be? Master is..."

The old man shook his head, wiped his sweat, and did not continue forging the sword.

"You should remember all the famous swords by now."

"Yes!" The young man proudly raised his head.

"Haha, but do you know there are many swords that are even stronger than famous swords?"

"How could this be..." A famous sword is the highest honor a sword can receive.

“Let the master think… yes… for example, ‘The Last Echo’—” the old man said softly, lost in memories. In a very distant era, when master craftsmen emerged in great numbers, it was the peak period of the development of human, orc, and elf civilizations.

At that time, there was a legendary human blacksmith who, in order to broaden his horizons, embarked on a solo long journey.

The long journey has come to an end, and it is time for the blacksmith to return.

But when the blacksmith returned, people saw his eyes filled with the marks of time.

The first thing the blacksmith did upon returning was to dive into the workshop and begin forging swords day and night.

After an unknown amount of time, the blacksmith walked out of the workshop carrying a simple, unadorned sword.

After handing the sword to his apprentice, the blacksmith fell asleep... and into a permanent slumber.

As the last sword the blacksmith forged, his apprentice named it "The Last Echo".

No one knows what happened to the blacksmith during his travels; the only thing known is what he said on his deathbed.

"This sword was not forged to kill."

"Let those who grasp it remember to be prepared to move forward."

The blacksmith's words piqued the interest of many people.

Unfortunately, in the end, this sword was not remembered by people.

"The Last Echo" has a fairly sharp blade, but it is far from being worthy of being called a famous sword.

Even though it is hard, it is still not favored by sword users. After all, it is a sword, and hardness alone is not enough.

Without any elaborate blade markings, and even with a simple hilt, the sword's slender, perfectly streamlined blade is easily overlooked.

Ultimately, the world regarded this sword, which the blacksmith had spent his life forging, as an "excellent work," rather than a famous sword.

And so, the "swan song" was forgotten and placed in some unknown corner.

As for swords, only famous swords can catch the eye of renowned masters and be remembered by everyone.

Ultimately, it is generally accepted that "The Last Echo" was just an ordinary sword.

---

Bray, carrying the "Last Echo," entered the Adventurers' Guild.

Although it's called a guild, it's essentially an intermediary platform.

After a considerable period of hard work, Bray finally progressed from an F-rank nobody to an E-rank nobody.

He's just one step away from becoming a "big shot" D-rank adventurer!