As Rei neared Hazel Town, he pulled Midgard to a stop beneath the shade of a crooked pine tree growing from the rocks near the roadside. A light breeze rustled the grass, but the air still carried the heavy tension left behind from the encounter with the bloodlusted man.
Rei narrowed his eyes. "Tenko," he said, his voice low and serious, "go check if Hazel Town is safe to enter. I mean… if there are more like that bloodlusted guy there. Also, see if there are any thief or bandit-infected areas."
Tenko nodded with a quiet bark and leaped into the underbrush, his white fur quickly vanishing into the haze of the landscape. As Rei waited, he stayed vigilant, his hand resting on the hilt of his crossbow while he scanned the surroundings with cautious eyes.
A few minutes passed.
Tenko returned, tail swaying slowly, his sharp gaze reassuring. Rei lowered his guard and asked, "So, Tenko, is the town safe?"
Tenko barked in agreement.
"Fine," Rei murmured, "Let's go."
He grasped the wooden handles at the front of Midgard and began pulling it down the winding path. Despite its size and the gear-heavy modifications he'd made, he chose not to engage the movement mechanism, preferring not to draw attention.
When they finally reached Hazel Town's gates, Rei immediately noticed the stark difference between it and the other towns he had visited. Unlike the previous city, there were no hunter towers in sight. Only two tall structures rose above the low rooftops—one was the Merchant Tower, and the other, ominous and sharp-edged, was the Black Tower.
"It's a mining town after all…" Rei murmured, his tone unreadable.
He took the cart to a quiet place near the outer gate and parked it behind a stack of ore-filled crates. Pulling a set of worn clothes from Midgard's inner room, he wrapped his face, covering his nose and mouth. The lingering image of the bloodlusted man haunted him; he couldn't ignore the possibility of disease.
Rei walked cautiously through the dirt-laden streets. The scent of soot and iron hung thick in the air. Workers, covered in grime, carried tools and baskets of ore. Their tired eyes passed over Rei without much curiosity.
After some light inspection, Rei concluded that no one looked sickly. There were no coughing fits or abnormal behavior. Satisfied, he approached two guards posted near the Merchant Tower.
"Excuse me," Rei asked, keeping his tone polite but direct, "has anyone gone missing lately?"
The guards looked at each other, then shook their heads. "Nope. Not that we've heard."
With a nod, Rei removed his face covering. The fear of an infection now reasonably addressed.
He made his way to the nearest tavern. Its door creaked as he entered. The smell of beer, sweat, and coal smoke hit him instantly. Inside, the tavern was filled with burly men—miners and laborers with thick arms and louder laughs.
When they noticed Rei, a small boy of only ten years old, walking into their gritty den, the laughter grew louder.
"Hey! Someone get this boy back to his mommy! Looks like he got lost on the way to the toy store!"
Rei didn't flinch. Instead, he looked directly at the man who'd spoken and replied, "You should be the one to go, old man. You're already on your deathbed, and with every sip of that beer, you're just accelerating your funeral."
The tavern roared with laughter.
The insulted man stood up, towering over Rei with an intimidating glare. "What did you say, brat?"
Rei tilted his head, voice innocent. "Oh, sorry. I forgot old men don't hear well. Want me to repeat it?"
More laughter echoed. Furious, the man lunged with his fist. Rei's eyes narrowed—he stepped forward, grabbed the man's arm, twisted it with smooth precision, and used a clean jujutsu technique to throw him out the tavern door.
The room went silent.
Then, the burly men, including the man outside, laughed heartily. "I've never seen such a manly boy in this city before! So, are you new here?"
Rei dusted his sleeves and said, "Yeah. I came here for information."
The man shouted, "Hey, tavern guy! Give him what he needs!"
The man behind the bar sighed. "For the hundredth time, my name is Ham. H-A-M."
The man outside grinned. "And my name's Levi."
Rei nodded. "Nice to meet you, Levi. I'm Rei."
Soon, the other burly men started introducing themselves as well, each proud of their craft. Levi asked, "So, what do you want to know?"
"I'm looking for a blacksmith," Rei replied.
Levi grinned. "That'd be me. I'm not the best, but I'm damn close. I can make anything."
"I'm better," another shouted.
More voices chimed in, boasting of their skills.
Rei raised a hand. "None of you can do what I need."
The men scoffed. "Why not?"
"Have any of you worked on a sentient weapon?"
The room fell quiet.
Levi's eyes widened. "Sentient weapon? You have one?"
"Those are rare," another whispered.
Rei narrowed his eyes, noting their reactions. "So they do exist in this world... Who keeps them?"
—
Far away, in the Mystic Church, flames from Hanna's sword danced and then vanished. A man lay defeated before her.
A pope in white and gold robes stepped forward, clapping slowly. "Remarkable. But we'd appreciate it if you could teach us how you infuse magic into your weapons."
Hanna shook her head, her expression unreadable. "That's a secret."
The pope clicked his tongue inwardly and forced a smile. "Very well. You've been deemed worthy of promotion. As recognition for your accomplishments, we shall grant you a new weapon."
"Really?" Hanna blinked.
"Yes. Come with me."
They walked through the grand church halls. At the back altar, the pope chanted a strange, ancient magic. The statue before them rumbled and shifted, revealing a secret passage. A spiral staircase led downward, into a vast and echoing darkness.
They descended in silence. Hanna couldn't tell how long they had been walking.
Finally, a golden door appeared, guarded by two silent sentries and adorned with a large painting. The eyes in the painting followed them. Without a word, the door creaked open.
Inside was a hall unlike any Hanna had seen.
Weapons lined the walls—swords that hummed, spears that glowed faintly, armors that shimmered with presence. The air itself felt alive.
"These," the pope said, gesturing proudly, "are all sentient weapons. Every one of them belongs to the Church. If someone else possesses one, they are required to surrender it… and face death."
Hanna's breath caught.
"You may choose one," the pope said. "And a sentient armor, too. You'll need them in the days ahead."
Excitement welled in her chest. She stepped forward.
Behind her, the pope smirked.
"Yes, Hanna. Choose. The sentient powers corrupt souls… and minds. And soon, you will need them… to kill your brother, Rei."