"It's done."
After another hour of polishing, fitting the handle and guard, Muramasa placed the blade on a table, awaiting Amenoma Tougo's inspection. The crowd, which had mostly dispersed, had returned to its original size, everyone eager to witness if this sword was worthy of the "Amenoma" name.
Tougo's initial anger had vanished, replaced by his usual placid demeanor, though now tinged with an even stronger sense of apprehension. He hesitated, half-standing, half-sitting, as if his body couldn't decide what to do.
"If you've got arthritis, you should see a doctor," Muramasa quipped rudely. Tougo flinched but didn't retort this time. He just forced himself to stand up straight and walk over.
The blade had the characteristic grain of Tamahagane, while the spine had a pattern formed from the clay coating. The spine was darker, the contrast in shades making the hamon on the edge even more striking. More importantly, when Tougo's hand brushed against the blade, he could feel the quality the Amenoma-style demanded: "Every strike with intent, every part equal." To apply just the right amount of force to every part of the steel. Every other requirement of the Amenoma-style, as taught by his master, was also perfectly executed.
Looking at the man before him, who appeared even younger than himself, he felt a daze wash over him. What have I been doing all these years?
Despite his constant complaints about his wages, once he had entered the Amenoma school, how could he not have some ambition, some stubborn pride?
"...It's perfect. This is a true 'Amenoma-style' work." He stared intently at the sword on the table, his brow and mouth tightening, squeezing out the words from between his teeth. "And... it's a work I could never forge."
His voice was soft, only audible to those nearby. Seeing him so dejected, Yoimiya was about to step forward to comfort him, but Muramasa had already approached. She quickly grabbed the smith's arm, worried he would provoke the already fragile Tougo further, and whispered, "Muramasa... be gentle?"
As Muramasa paused, the onlookers reacted differently. The common folk were simply amazed that the head apprentice of the Amenoma school had been defeated by an unknown outsider.
"Muramasa... I've never heard that name." The samurai, Kurosawa, thought for a moment. He had traveled the countryside for years and had never heard of such a person.
"I must report this to the clan head immediately," the retainer from the Kamisato Clan mused. A swordsmith of this caliber was a talent that every faction would want to recruit.
"That name... have I heard it somewhere before?" The second son of the Kujou clan tried to recall the events of the past few days.
"That sword can take me to the next level." Naoe Hisamasa, who normally guarded the gates of the Tenshukaku, stared with a burning intensity in his eyes.
Muramasa, after pausing for a moment, patted Yoimiya's hand, signaling her to let go, but said nothing more.
"Perfect? Then you are mistaken." Muramasa sheathed the finished blade, concealing its edge. "This is nothing more than another failure."
His words sparked an even more intense debate among the crowd, though they were more concerned with the outcome of the wager. But for those who had an eye for swords and experience in forging, it raised more questions.
"Hey, did he say it's a failure?" The chestnut-haired man nudged his still-shocked friend, who for the first time shot him an annoyed glare. "I don't know... this sword, no matter how you look at it, is far from a failure."
He was stunned by the man's skill, and the next words he heard resonated with the pride embedded in that craftsmanship.
"Why does everyone look so surprised?"
"The kind of sword I strive for is not of this level. That should be obvious." He said it as if it were a matter of fact, and he acted accordingly. What was a mountain peak to others was merely a hillside to him.
"This is what swordsmithing is all about."
"So, don't you dare tell me you 'can't do it'."
"You have a body that can do as you please, yet you're as timid as an old man. Isn't that a waste?"
His words were still harsh, but the encouragement within them was palpable to everyone.
"If you really can't forge the sword 'they' require, then just submit the one I made. That way, you'll have no complaints, right?"
With that, without waiting for a reply, he turned and left.
"Wait for me—" Yoimiya hurried after him, worried about whether they could just leave. But the crowd had already parted, making a path for them. Within the crowd, several people, unable to contain themselves, pushed forward with their own agendas.
"Tougo, Tougo, let us see that sword!"
"Yeah, just one look!"
"Do you know where that smith lives? How can we contact him!"
"Is that sword for sale? I'll pay a high price!"
The area was in an uproar, but Tougo's gaze was still fixed on the departing smith. In contrast to the clamoring commoners, those who understood the true mastery at play had already left.
"Let's go," the white-haired man urged his friend. The two slipped away as the crowd surged forward, disappearing into the streets of Inazuma.
"That was surprising. I never thought I'd see something so interesting on a rare trip to Inazuma," the chestnut-haired man laughed, half-jokingly saying to his companion, "With that sword, do you think I could withstand... the Musou no Hitotachi?"
Accustomed to his friend's reverence for that single strike, the white-haired man just sighed. "Right now, I just want to get out of here as quickly as possible."
Amidst the bustling crowd, a sharp tap silenced everyone. A lean but sturdy old man stood nearby.
"M-master!" Tougo stared at the old man who was supposed to be bedridden, now standing before him. An indescribable emotion caught in his throat.
"What are you all crowding around my shop for? If you're buying, buy. If not, get out!"
At his words, the crowd dispersed like birds, leaving only Tougo standing there.
"Agh..." The old man sighed, a hint of guilt in his eyes. "It was my mistake."
"What... what do you mean?" Tougo didn't understand his cryptic words.
"I had planned to feign illness this time to test you, to see if you could take on this great responsibility. But I didn't consider that your spirit wasn't ready for it... Tougo, for the next few days, don't work. Take this sword... and go home and think."
His words made Tougo's mind go completely blank. "Then... m-master..." he stammered, at a loss for words.
"I know about your wager. I'll ask about it later. Don't worry about the price. This was a wager of the 'Amenoma-style,' it has nothing to do with you personally."
The old man patted his shoulder and straightened his back, not a trace of his back injury to be seen.
-------
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