Blacksmith – Part 08
Once she finished, her breathing became a bit erratic. Panting, she replayed her words in her mind. She hadn’t laid everything out, but she felt she’d made her case.
Now, how would he respond? When Cecily looked at Siegfried, she was taken aback.
He showed no signs of being flustered. Instead, a playful grin crept across his face, and without much thought, he said, “I have only one question for you. Where’s your evidence?”
She was sure. Not through reasoning, but through instinct. That he was the one who lent the Inhumans to the bandits, corrupted Jack Strader, and instigated Charlotte. This man was behind it all.
“Do you have any evidence to support your claim? If so, I’d love to see it.”
“…I don’t.”
“You don’t?! You suspected me without any proof?!”
Cecily bit her lip and glanced at Arvie. Charlotte should be in the custody of the Militant Nation, but the strategist showed no signs of backing her up. The other dignitaries simply watched the exchange in silence.
She felt utterly alone. Not a single hand reached out to help, as if that was the way it was supposed to be. To put it bluntly, they treated her like a clueless little girl.
Siegfried dramatically spread his arms, feigning dismay. Cecily felt nauseated by his insincere demeanor.
“I never imagined being accused by a person I just met, and without a shred of proof. Ah, but I understand, Cecily Campbell. You must have been swayed by Charlotte’s words. I hear she even forged the Empire’s treasured sword and pretended to be royalty. She’s a nasty piece of work. I can’t blame you for being fooled. Isn’t that right, Commander Arthur?”
“Uh, um, yes,” Augustus stammered. “Impersonating royalty is inexcusable. Such audacity misleads people.”
“Indeed. Bold, cunning, and utterly vile. A real shame what she did to you, Cecily Campbell.”
The world around her seemed to bleed red. Something boiled deep within her gut, threatening to explode. Every part of her burned with fury. She was close to losing herself.
“Show her some respect.”
Four people sneaking into the city—Infernal Blade or not—was reckless. Most would mock them for their actions.
But Charlotte and her companions had done it. They risked everything to give meaning to her late mother’s life. Cecily couldn’t laugh at that.
Yet the man who set it all in motion acted like he was innocent. He nonchalantly reclaimed the Infernal Blades he had lent out, wearing that arrogant smile. And the rest of the room let him get away with it. The Empire, the Militant Nation, the Crowd Powers, the Independent Trade City, and the Continental Law Commission—they all casually discarded Charlotte and her friends.
I won’t stand for this. As far as Cecily was concerned, everyone here was equally guilty.
“If you’re going to deny it, fine. But take back what you said about Charlotte. She’s far more noble than you think.”
“Why? You’re not making any sense,” Siegfried replied with exaggerated confusion. “She’s a criminal and an enemy of the Empire. Nothing more, nothing less. In fact, you should show me some respect. You accused me of wrongdoing without proof. So why don’t you take back what you said about me?”
Cecily couldn’t hold back any longer. Her hand shot up, all her focus on striking that smug face.
“Stop.”
A hand caught her fist mid-swing. It was Luke. He gently wrapped his hand around hers.
“Don’t,” he said softly.
“…”
Cecily froze, her hand still raised, before letting out a shaky breath and lowering her fist.
Siegfried, visibly annoyed, sighed and turned away, rejoining his superior. Augustus muttered something under his breath, probably a reprimand, but Siegfried just laughed it off.
Hannibal placed a hand on Cecily’s shoulder before stepping away in silence.
“…”
Her anger still raged inside. Her head throbbed with fury, and she wanted to scream at them all. But the atmosphere in the room wouldn’t allow it.
“We’ve strayed off topic. Now that the city’s blacksmith is here, let’s return to the matter at hand.”
The recent exchange would be brushed aside, dismissed as nothing more than an outburst from a socially oblivious individual.
Is this what Hannibal meant by the ‘balance of the continent’? Is this what they call politics? This stupid power play? They’re all insane.
Everyone here was mad. Or had she lost her mind?
“Luke Ainsworth,” Justina addressed. “How is the Sacred Sword coming along? I see you’re wearing a sword. Is that your latest work?”
Luke nodded. “Yes, but it’s still far from being a Sacred Sword. It’s not powerful enough for a seal.”
The room filled with sighs of disappointment.
“Losing the previous Ainsworth was a devastating blow.”
“Of course. This boy is barely twenty, just a child. His skills don’t compare.”
“There’s little difference between his sword and the one our nation forged.”
“It’s not too late. We should consider sharing the Sacred Sword forging techniques.”
“Are you really bringing that up again?”
“The Empire has skilled swordsmiths. What we lack is the method. Once we figure it out, we’ll craft a second Sacred Sword ourselves. Do you really think this boy will improve much in a year?”
“He really made a mess of things, killing his father. If only Basil Ainsworth were here, we could have had a more constructive meeting.”
One by one, they expressed their dissatisfaction. It felt like they were ganging up to slander Luke. Cecily turned pale. Hannibal and Housman did not join them, but maintained silence. Was this really a gathering of delegates from powerful nations?
Luke didn’t respond. He just stayed still, accepting their insults without protest. His right eye was cold and emotionless. Cecily couldn’t understand how he could stay so calm in this situation.
Had it always been like this? Had Luke endured this kind of treatment for so long that he’d become numb to it?
“One more question,” Justina said. “Is your demon’s Infernal Bladecraft not enough to seal Valbanill?”
Infernal Bladecraft? An unfamiliar term, but Cecily quickly understood what it referred to.
Luke’s assistant, Lisa, wasn’t human but a demon. Her ability allowed her to instantly forge a katana by drawing on Luke’s past experience. The elemental effects embedded in those blades rivaled those of an Infernal Blade. And they called this ability Infernal Bladecraft.
“Our special regard for you among the blacksmiths stems from that skill. What do you say?”
“As I’ve said many times before,” Luke said irritably, “katanas forged this way are terribly brittle. They shatter after just a few strikes. They might delay an enemy, but sealing? That’s impossible. I can’t rely on that.”
“Are you even taking this seriously?” Augustus interjected, frustration evident in his voice. “The nations and the Continental Law Commission overlook your demon not only because of its abilities but also out of consideration for what you’ve been through. At the very least, you should repay that favor. The future of the continent depends on it.”
“Out of consideration? Good one,” Luke said with a snicker. “You’re just using me.”
Augustus’ eyes narrowed. “You brat.”
“What’s going on?” Cecily let her curiosity slip out.
Augustus’s gaze slowly shifted toward her. The smirk on his face said he had found a perfect target. A chill ran down Cecily’s spine.
“Cecily Campbell. It seems you’re unaware.”
“Unaware of what?”
“That man offered his own sweetheart for a Demon Pact to save himself.”
Cecily couldn’t process what was said right away. Yet somehow, goosebumps prickled her skin.
“You know that assistant of his? She’s the demon born from that pact.”
“Arthur! Not now!”
“Why not, Quasar? It’s important to inform those involved of the truth.”
Augustus and Hannibal’s exchange felt like echoes from a far-off world.
“Y-You’re wrong. Lisa is…”
“You seem to have the wrong idea, Miss Campbell,” Augustus relished her distress, delivering the words with glee. “That demon is made from the flesh of Ainsworth’s lover. After they wandered into Valbanill’s lair, Ainsworth, desperate to save himself, forced his lover to create a demon and used its power to escape on his own.”
“But…”
But the death spell for a pact was inscribed on the heart, making it impossible to recite without prior knowledge, especially since it required cutting open the chest.
“Valbanill’s hatred runs deep. The King knows all the death spells of humans and whispers it to them. Stand before the King, and you’ll learn the death spell inscribed on your heart, Cecily Campbell. You’ll likely be killed immediately afterward, though.”
“Luke would never do such a thing!”
“Even if you were right, it doesn’t change the fact that he alone escaped, using the demon his lover desperately created as a shield. If you doubt it, you can ask the man himself.”
A loud ringing filled Cecily’s ears. Augustus’s voice grated on her nerves.
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