Erza curled her lip, giving him a "you've got a lot of nerve asking that" look.
You really couldn't blame her for being cautious. That knight armor of hers had been a gift from a wealthy client who thought it suited her—it was the sort of luxury item she could never afford on her own.
And last time they sparred, Shane had already shown a very suspicious tendency to "target weak points in equipment."
Now that his sword-breaking ability had obviously levelled up, of course she was going to stash her favorite armor first.
While they talked, the sword in the stream had finished cooling. The steam on its surface faded, revealing a deep, night-like sheen.
Shane jerked his chin toward the water. "Try it."
Erza lifted a hand and called on her magic. The longsword burst out of the stream with a sharp whoosh and landed cleanly in her grip.
Maybe because it was made from two blades, it was a bit heavier than she expected. But the weight was perfectly balanced; it sat in her hand like it belonged there.
Strange patterns flowed along the surface—whether from quench technique or the forging itself, they looked like ripples of running water, lively and elegant.
She instinctively poured a little mana in and gave it a casual swing.
Sssht—
An invisible cut skimmed across the stream. The water split smoothly, only rejoining a heartbeat later.
Surprise flashed in her eyes.
Her mana flowed through the sword far more smoothly than before.
The sharpness and durability were on a completely different level from her old blades.
Seeing the undisguised joy on her face, Shane smirked and dropped a number with precision. "Performance up by 6.237 times."
"What?!" Her hand jerked. She thought she'd misheard.
Six times, from a single reforging?
She couldn't help running her fingers along the cold steel again, lingering on those water-like patterns.
"Well?" Shane asked, knowing full well the answer as he watched her unwilling-to-let-go grip. "Satisfied with your first promised blade?"
She nodded hard, eyes fixed on the gleam of the sword. A name rose naturally in her mind. "I'll call you Flowing Water."
Then another thought hit her. "This sword… you aren't going to shatter it as easily as before, right?"
Shane immediately looked offended. "My work isn't that flimsy."
He folded his arms, red flames flickering in his eyes. "Besides—if you want to fight me armed, you at least have to be using a weapon I forged."
That settled her. If her weapon could still pop like glass, there wouldn't be much point in fighting.
Watching her relax, he forced his mouth into a straight line, barely stifling a laugh.
He wanted to tell her, Gotcha—once you pick up a weapon, there's a thick wall between you and me, but decided to swallow the line.
His mind shifted to the Book's new entry.
[Appreciation of Swords A]
As a smith who devoted his entire life to forging swords, Senji Muramasa possesses absolute insight into all bladed weapons.
When facing an armed opponent, he can instantly read the weapon's material, structure, history, weaknesses—even the wielder's sword style and combat habits.
—In any exchange of blades, Muramasa stands at the absolute informational high ground.
After resolving Saber's True Name, Shane finally understood where his strange weapon-sense had come from.
Now, under full release, the skill had been dramatically amplified—or rather, shown its true form.
"Come on," he said lightly, curling his fingers in a "bring it" gesture.
Erza's eyes sharpened. She stopped thinking about anything else.
"Flowing Water" flashed in a cold arc. Her body vanished from where she'd been standing, reappearing in front of him with astonishing speed, leaving a faint afterimage behind.
Shane slipped sideways; the blade skimmed his coat, the pressure of the swing stirring his hair.
He couldn't help but feel impressed. She'd definitely made the most of the past month.
But after the missed strike, Erza picked up something odd.
She halted and lowered the tip, smiling. "What's wrong? You're a lot slower than before."
Her sharp instincts nailed it: in this state, Shane's raw speed was nowhere near that gentle, stronger form from before.
"Busted." He shook his head, not bothering to deny it. "This form isn't great for agility."
—Strength B, Endurance A, Agility D, Mana E.
Muramasa's speed lagged far behind Arash's, and wasn't much higher than his own base.
But there was a reason Shane didn't regret spending two depth upgrades to summon Muramasa.
He curled his hand again. A long, lacquer-black blade appeared in his grip—simple, old-fashioned.
Heat roared around him; the furnace-like flames rose higher, wrapping the sword and then pouring back into his limbs and bones.
"Well then…" His voice crackled with flame. "Try me now."
His outline blurred.
"So fast!" Erza's pupils shrank. Whatever thought she'd had about his slow speed shattered instantly.
Clang!
The black blade smashed into Flowing Water with a bright ring. A wave of burning force ran up her arms, numbing them and forcing her back several steps to bleed it off.
Shane's movements turned wild and precise. Every cut dragged a pressure wave; the flames flowing along the steel licked like living things but never so much as singed him.
This was no ordinary fire—it was the [Flame] born when Muramasa hurled his soul, spirit, and life into the forge.
It burned away everything for the sake of a single blade—enemy and karmic sin alike—and in return, it massively enhanced the user.
Aside from his Phantasm, eighty percent of Muramasa's might lived in that fire.
Erza was immediately pushed into a losing battle.
Her style had always been straightforward: overwhelm with more speed, more strength, more refined technique.
Now speed and strength had flipped against her—and technique…
Under Shane's [Appreciation of Swords], every feint and habit she had was laid bare. The moment she started a motion, his answer was already waiting.
She could only lean on raw instinct to keep up.
Even with her blade spinning into a brilliant, seamless guard, the burning black sword drove her back step by step. Sweat broke out along her brow.
Shane pressed the attack, calmly testing the new power while gauging her.
He realized she'd built a rock-solid foundation. Her fighting sense was razor sharp. What she lacked were ways to answer special abilities and hard counters.
Something he could fix later—with custom weapons designed for specific situations.
Thinking that, he eased off—sliding back to open a gap. The sword's heat ebbed; the flames drew in tight.
"You're incredible, Erza," he said honestly. The red in his eyes softened with approval. "You're much stronger than I expected."
He'd been holding back, but the fact she'd lasted this long put her well above most mages.
"Again," she panted, knuckles white on Flowing Water's hilt. Her gaze was still firm; she had no intention of conceding.
Shane chuckled. "I know you won't give in. So… I'll show you something Arash could never show you."
The name made her face tighten. Mana surged around her as she braced.
She knew that "Arash" he spoke of—the hero behind his bow. The one who'd nearly destroyed the Tower of Heaven.
This blazing forge form, his "Second Heroic Spirit," would naturally be terrifying too.
"Come on!"
She tightened her grip, eyes fixed dead ahead. Whatever he threw at her, she'd take it head-on and show him her resolve.
Shane just smiled—
And set the black sword gently down against the ground.
A few sparks jumped.
Znnng—
~~~
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