Wasuren needed a new sword.
This is the third sword he has damaged this year, and he dreaded meeting the blacksmith, because whenever he returns with a damaged or broken sword, that old man threatens to kill him. He can't help it, his katana has little resistance to the heat from his flames. He has tried to get a more durable weapon but the Hoshigami armory is of limits to him, the simplest reason is they hate him. He tried to commision one from the forge master but they are awfully expensive and unless he wanted to exhaust all his saving, he can't get one.
If that were all it would have been manageable. But several other factors come into play for the type of katana that he needs. He needed a weapon made from beast cores that could resist his flames. For that either he gets a beast core with fire attribute no weaker than his, or a beast core with cold attribute to counter his heat, they are very rare and very few intermediate tier beasts of such caliber. Basic tier beasts are a no go, they're too weak.
This means he has to find an advanced tier beast. But he has little confidence in defeating an advanced tier beast on his own.
It took a combined attack from him and Masaki Taisho to defeat the Orochi's descendant. The Orochi's descendant was a poison elemental. He imagined taking on a fire element type beast to be just as, if not more dangerous. What a dilemma.
Wasuren could already feel the heat coming from the forge, not that it bothered him. Heat to the Hoshigami family is like water to fish. But to him, it was a reminder of limitation. Every time his fire burned too wild, it ruined the steel he carried. Every time his flames flared too bright, the blade in his hand betrayed him.
The forge doors creaked open with a groan, and the scent of molten iron hit him full in the face. Behind the anvil stood Jinzō, the blacksmith of the Hoshigami household. A bald, broad-shouldered man with arms like tree trunks and a scowl permanently etched across his face. His eyes narrowed the moment they landed on the broken sword at Wasuren's side.
"You again," Jinzō muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "What is it this time? Blade snapped? Edge warped? Or did you finally melt the whole damn thing down with your cursed fire?"
Wasuren unsheathed what remained of the katana — a jagged, blackened fragment of steel. He laid it on the workbench without a word.
Jinzō let out a laugh that had no joy in it. "Hah! Melted clean through. You know, boy, swords aren't meant to be torches. You want a lantern, I can make you one. But a sword? You'll keep wasting steel until the gods themselves curse my forge."
Wasuren clenched his jaw. "Then make me one that doesn't break."
The blacksmith's hammer slammed onto the anvil, sparks leaping. "You think I haven't tried? You think I've got endless beast cores lying around to throw at some half-blood brat who burns his toys? The family won't release anything from the armory for you. And you haven't the coin to pay for the work."
Silence. The truth stung more than Jinzō's insults.
After a moment, the blacksmith leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. "What you need isn't a sword forged from common steel. You need something alive. Something that can drink your fire instead of breaking under it. That means a core, boy. An advanced one, with flame in its veins or frost in its marrow. But beasts like that…" He shook his head. "Even veteran wardens die chasing them."
Wasuren's thoughts drifted unwillingly to Masaki Taisho — to the two of them cutting through the Orochi spawn together. His chest tightened. Without Masaki, without a squad at his back, what chance did he have against a beast like that?
The blacksmith seemed to read his silence. He smirked, bitterly. "Dilemma, isn't it? Too weak to earn the weapon you need. Too wild to use the weapons you're given. Maybe the family was right naming you Wasuren."
The word cut sharper than any blade. Forgotten. Disposable.
Wasuren's fists clenched. He picked up the charred fragment of his sword, staring at it as if he could will it whole again. "Then I'll find one," he said quietly. Advanced tier. Fire or frost. One way or another."
Jinzō chuckled darkly, turning back to his forge. "I'll start preparing your coffin, then."
Wasuren was tired of the blacksmith's snarky responses. "Find me a sword Jinzo, I'm in haste."
Jinzo sighed in defeat. "Pick one up from the pile of the newly forged, you're going to make me miss my monthly quota boy."
Wasuren quietly picked up a katana and fitted it in his scabbard. " This will be good enough for now, I'll be back." He turned around and left the forge.
Wasuren went back to his residence, a small house in the castle town of Hinokagura. Although he could have lived with the rest of the Hoshigamis, he felt no purpose in that household, no peace of mind. He felt complacent. That was part of the reason for him leaving the estate for the castle town, and that is how he found his place among the wolf wardens.
He headed into the house, it was built for a minimalist lifestyle. One small sitting room and a bedroom with a kitchen. He went ahead and sat in a meditating position while taking in deep breaths, seemingly in deep thoughts.
As he sat down he thought back to his interactions with the rest of the family at dinner. He felt disgusted at himself. He felt disgusted at the way he was treated. He needed to do something about his status in the house. Because even though he acted somewhat carefree about his position, it cuts deep down to his bone. The shame of being looked down upon by the entire family like he didn't matter. He needed to make a name for himself. He needed to be someone thay would not be pushed around. But how?
He knew he would get no such opportunity if he remained idle he needed to think of something but nothing came to him.
While in deep thoughts he heard a knock on the door which broke his focus. " Come in." He said quietly. The door opened and a man with shoulder length white hair, golden eyes and a very cunning smile stepped through. Daiki Hoshigami stepped through the door.