Heretic's Forge: A Crafting Fantasy Adventure (The Warrior Blacksmith Book 1)

by Jared Mandani

  Blood poured from the samurai’s shattered face as he stepped backwards. Hanataro took a gauntleted hand to his mangled nose, wincing as pain shot through him. He stared at the crimson stain on his palm and snarled at Kain. “What manner of dishonorable tactic was that, assistant? Are you so akin to an animal that you can’t fight like a man?” Kain said nothing, enjoying Hanataro’s flaring anger as he was ignored. “Suit yourself, dog,” he readied his katana and warned, “You won’t strike me again.”

  Kain scoffed. “We will see.” Realizing that he needed more speed, he channeled his will into the vessel blade, making the metal as light as a feather. As a result, the blade became pitted. I must be careful, thought Kain as he held the Zweihänder in a low guard.

  Without warning, Hanataro lunged forward. His sword slashed viciously at Kain. Despite the speed he gained due to his sword’s low weight, Kain barely managed to parry Hanataro’s attacks, while being unable to counterattack. As Kain lifted his weapon to parry a chopping slash, Hanataro twirled his weapon and violently rammed him; air was driven from his lungs as the heavy pauldrons in Hanataro’s armor rammed into his gut, and the samurai’s augmented strength sent him flying backwards.

  Kain landed painfully on his back, bouncing backwards and falling on his face. He struggled to draw breath, and felt something broken inside of him. Shit, this is bad, he thought as he tried to climb back to his feet. I won’t survive another attack like that.

  Hanataro scoffed. “You’re not the only one who can fight dirty, cur. Now fight like a man, or die like a dog.”

  Unwilling to capitulate, Kain powered through the pain in his ribs and held his sword once more. I have to do something, damn it, he thought as he weighed his situation. Hanataro was augmented by the power of the ikiteiruken he wielded—his speed and strength were clearly empowered by the weapon. But it must be terribly tiresome for him. He will burn through his energy soon enough. Still, it mattered little whether Hanataro became exhausted, if Kain couldn’t counter his attacks and make him recoil. He sighed, making a difficult decision.

  Kain poured his intent into the vessel blade, and made it white-hot. Cracks began to form along its length, but the effect was immediate: “What devilry is that?” Hanataro bellowed as he made a sign to ward off against evil.

  Kain scoffed, and for Ishida’s sake, he answered, “No devilry. It’s the power of a vessel blade.”

  “Heresy!” Hanataro bellowed, hoisting his katana. “The gods will reward me handsomely for putting an end to you!” He charged forwards again, holding his sword in a lower guard and aiming an upper-cut at Kain; Kain parried the attack, putting his weight into his sword to place it as closely as possible to Hanataro.

  The white-hot metal singed the samurai’s skin, making him recoil. Kain took the opportunity to aim an overhead cut towards his helmet, striking his temple and dazing Hanataro. Pressing onwards, Kain used the rebound momentum to twirl his weapon above him and land a violent strike against Hanataro’s shoulder. Despite his armor, Hanataro winced as the force of Kain’s strike reverberated through the plates and into his flesh, making him stagger backwards.

  Got you! Kain thought as he aimed his Zweihänder towards Hanataro’s exposed face. The samurai clumsily lifted his weapon, but Kain knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop his wrath.

  The Zweihänder’s tip caught in Hanataro’s katana... And the metal shattered into a hundred pieces.

  “Oh no…” A gauntleted fist collided against Kain’s cheek, sending him sprawling backwards. His head ached as violently as his ear rang, and a warm liquid seeped from the wound. Kain forced himself to remain conscious as he stumbled, trying to stand up. In his hand he held the useless remnants of the Zweihänder; of the proud weapon only its hilt and a few centimeters of blade remained.

  Hanataro advanced one step, and Kain retreated. “So, this is Ishida’s mighty champion?” Hanataro asked mockingly. “This is the warrior who he chose to represent him? Hah, I spit on you, pathetic mongrel,” he held his sword forward and said, “Rejoice: I shall put an end to your pain.”

  Without warning, he charged, and Kain closed his eyes, awaiting his demise.

  I failed.

  ***

  Ryusei finally managed to reach the top of the wall, struggling to draw breath in. Every fiber in his body burned fiercely, and a ravenous hunger drove him to madness. “Nagi, I... can’t,” he said to the weapon as he crested the construction.

  “One final effort, Ryusei!” The weapon exhorted. “Where is Kain, can you see him?”

  “I... can... he’s fighting... wounded... no weapon.”

  “He’s fighting and has no weapon? Damn it!” Despair emanated from Naginata’s length before she said, “Ryusei, hurl me towards him, please!”

  “Nagi... I can’t... no strength.”

  “Ryusei, please! Kain has need of me, just as I have need of you right now! You need only toss me his way!”

  Ryusei knew Naginata was right. All it would take was for him to launch the weapon towards Kain, yet his strength was completely drained away. But I will do this, for Kain-kun, for Munesuke-san! And to Naginata he said, “Nagi... enhance my arms.”

  Worry seeped from the weapon as she asked, “But you are spent, Ryusei!”

  “I... don’t care... empower me!”

  The blade did as told, and Ryusei felt a final surge of strength infusing his arms. He climbed to his feet, holding Naginata in both hands, and with all his might he bellowed, “KAIN!” then he hurled the weapon towards him.

  Ryusei closed his eyes and fell forward, the last of his strength drained from his body. In his dream, he felt like he was flying.

  A weak smile appeared on his face before he finished falling.

  ***

  Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Kain saw the shape of the weapon, his weapon turning in the air as it headed towards him. And from the corner of his eye, he saw Hanataro charging at him with murderous intent. The first thing he had learned on his path to becoming a warrior was that as long as there was a glimmer of hope, no matter how tenuous, he had no reason, and no right to give up.

  I refuse to fail!

  Hanataro’s katana came at him in a diagonal, downwards slash; Kain sidestepped the attack and quickly grabbed the samurai’s arm, and using all his strength, he turned Hanataro’s momentum against him, violently pushing him ahead and making him fall face-forward. As the samurai fell, Kain turned and leapt to intercept Naginata’s shape.

  The weapon’s wrapped tang fit perfectly in his hand as he caught it in midair.

  “Naginata!”

  “Kain!” The blade exclaimed before adding, “You’re a bloody mess.”

  “And you are no better,” he smiled, “I am glad you are here, but how?”

  “Ryusei brought me here.”

  “Ryusei! Is he well?”

  “I don’t know,” Naginata admitted, “I lost track of him the moment he threw me.”

  “Damn it, I must thank him myself. But Naginata, you are diminished!”

  “As are you, Kain,” the sword replied.

  Hanataro climbed back to his feet and turned to face Kain once more. “What is this, dog? An unfinished weapon fallen from the heavens to aid you? Hah, please, don’t make me laugh!”

  Kain hoisted Naginata in a close guard. “Listen, Naginata, I will get you as close as I can to Hanataro’s armor. It must be made of pure steel. I need you to recover, and then to heal me.”

  “Understood,” replied the weapon.

  Hanataro snarled, not bothering to hurl an imprecation at Kain as he charged once more. Though his strength was at its limit, Kain managed to parry Hanataro’s weapon and drag Naginata’s length along his shoulder. Naginata ravenously drew from the pauldron, corroding the metal as she repaired herself, then she poured the energy into Kain’s body, healing his broken ribs.

  “Thank you,” said Kain.

  “Don’t thank me until that bastard is
dead!”

  “Agreed,” Kain said loudly as he held Naginata in a hanging guard. Heedless of the damage his armor suffered, Hanataro charged at Kain once more, but he was prepared: “Naginata, speed!” The blade did as requested, infusing Kain’s muscles with its might on time to quickly deflect Hanataro’s blade; Kain stepped forward, unbalancing Hanataro and jamming his fist against the samurai’s broken face.

  Naginata uttered, “Make me sharper!”

  Kain did so, pouring his will into the sword’s metal and enhancing the hardness and sharpness of its edge. Kain leapt forward, and slashed diagonally and from below at Hanataro’s abdomen, shearing the cuirass and right pauldrons as if they were cardboard, drawing blood. He turned Naginata for a follow-up attack, but Hanataro slashed with his sword. Kain leapt backwards, and the weapon swung by harmlessly.

  “What... is that sword?” Hanataro wheezed.

  Kain held Naginata in a middle guard, and replied, “This is Naginata, my companion, my friend,” he smiled, “And a true living sword.”

  “Bullshit... BULLSHIT!”

  “Naginata,” said Kain as Hanataro readied himself for another attack.

  “Let’s do it,” Naginata added as the samurai, augmented by his weapon, lunged ahead.

  “TOGETHER!” Kain and Naginata said in unison, as Naginata augmented Kain’s body entirely, and Kain set Naginata ablaze with white-hot fire. Kain surged forward and slashed towards his opponent at the same time as Hanataro. The two living swords collided, violently grinding against each other.

  But Naginata, enhanced by Kain’s will, prevailed against Shinokage, and after a moment, it broke through its metal.

  A pained, palpable wail of agony and relief was audible as the diminished kotodama inside the living sword exclaimed, “I AM FREE!” before vanishing into the ether.

  Hanataro fell to his knees and toppled backwards in a mixture of exhaustion and shock. Kain saw his opportunity and grabbed Naginata’s blade in a half-swording grip before pouncing on the samurai, ready to plunge his weapon’s tip into his heart. Die you bastard!

  “Stop!” Kain’s attack was called to a halt as Ishida’s voice cut through his rage. He turned to stare in confusion at his lord. “Hanataro is defeated and humiliated, Kain.”

  “But lord…”

  “No but. Hanataro,” he said, addressing the samurai. “Your life is spared to be lived in the deepest shame and humiliation. You have one day to leave my lands and return to my brother, your tail between your legs and your sword made useless. Let him know,” he grinned, “That I am coming for him. I suggest you get going.”

  Kain watched as a silent Hanataro slowly climbed to his feet and picked his broken sword’s remains before limping his way away from the courtyard. Though Kain felt a glimmer of satisfaction at the samurai’s terrified expression, he couldn’t help but feel robbed of his vengeance. “Why are you letting him go, lord Ishida?”

  “Because,” the daimyo replied, “That man deserves to suffer, and pay for his crimes. Death to a person like him would be preferable to the fate you have condemned him to, Kain. A fate of shame and regret. By letting him live despite his defeat, you have wounded him more grievously than any weapon ever could.”

  Kain sighed. “I see your point, Ishida. But that knowledge is a poor substitute for retribution.”

  “Patience, Kain. This is not when, or how this drama ends. First, the stage must be set for the grand finale, and you, my champion, will have your vengeance.”

  Kain’s rage abated, and he released the enchantment upon Naginata just as she ceased augmenting him. He took a deep breath and said, “As you say, lord.” As he closed his eyes, a thought reached his mind, “Ryusei! Where is he?”

  “You mean the boy who tossed the sword?” Ishida asked, and Kain nodded. “He fell on the bushes over there.”

  “Shit!” Kain exclaimed as he ran in the direction Ishida pointed at. His legs burnt fiercely, and his knees ached with every step he took, but he was driven by a single-minded purpose: To verify that Ryusei was alive.

  Before he reached the bushes, he saw Ryusei lying still above them. “Damn it, he’s a mess!” His skin was gray, and caked blood covered his face. Quickly, Kain removed him from the plants and set him flatly on the ground before checking his pulse. “He’s too weak, he’s dying!”

  “He’s diminished, Kain. He spent himself bringing me to you!”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “There is,” Naginata replied. “Sink me into his flesh, and pour your energy through me and into him!”

  Kain asked no questions. He did as told, gingerly inserting Naginata’s tip into Ryusei’s arm, and channeling his strength into the boy. Though Kain felt a wave of nausea washing over him, he felt immensely relieved as color returned to Ryusei’s skin and his breathing became even. When blackness threatened to overwhelm Kain, he released the enchantment and removed Naginata from Ryusei.

  Breathlessly, Kain said, “Ryusei... Can you hear me?”

  Slowly, the child stirred awake, his eyes growing wide as he stared at Kain. “Kain,” he said weakly, “You are alive... Naginata, do you have her?”

  Kain let go of the weapon and pulled Ryusei into an embrace. “I do, I live, thanks to you, Ryusei.” He smiled, feeling happy that a member of his lost family remained. “You did good, little brother. You did good.”

  Completely spent, Kain fell backwards. He was unconscious before his head hit the floor.

  ***

  Days passed by in boredom, and Yorunokenshi Ichiro daydreamed.

  He daydreamed of the day when his army would march across the province of Chubu, starting from his seat of power in Gifu, and razing Shinano—his brother’s province—on its way to Kanto, and Emperor Shinein’s throne in Tokyo.

  But Ichiro knew that no matter how much he daydreamed, his plans would remain that: A dream.

  “Unfair,” he muttered under his breath. Despite his own prosperity, he was aware of Chubu’s general misery. No matter how much mon he squeezed away from peasants, he couldn’t collect enough to raise an army strong enough to overtake Tokyo, and not even the western weapons he had had smuggled were enough to arm the large amount of soldiers he needed. But at least my grip in Chubu is secure.

  A man stumbled into his hall, a samurai dressed in armor, badly wounded and uninvited. Just as Ichiro was about to order the man dragged to the execution block, recognition dawned on him. “Ryokawa Hanataro?”

  The man struggled and failed to bow, falling forward on account of his wounds. Slowly, he removed his weapon from his scabbard, and Ichiro gasped the moment he saw it was shattered. Weakly, the samurai wheezed, “Your brother...” before falling into unconsciousness.

  After the shock of seeing Hanataro bloodied and battered, and his sword shattered, an ear-to-ear grin split Ichiro’s features, and he laughed. When the laughter abated, he clapped his hands, summoning his herald. “Gather our forces and have them assemble!

  We will march to war!”

  Ichiro was no longer bored, for his greatest, deepest daydream had become a reality.