"Pffft… hey, just remember it is supposed to serve you as a weapon, so mind the sharpness."
"...!"
Rotsard's voice brought Blanid back to reality, and the girl only then noticed she had been touching the golden white blade this whole time. And she didn't even realize that she had put down the sheath in the first place!
"Ah! S-sorry!"
She flinched and cried out in exasperation, hurriedly taking out a clean handkerchief that she immediately wiped off the blade with…
"?!"
And although she was careful with it, her eyes trembled when the fabric was sliced apart by the gentlest of touches. If she hadn't learned her lesson in her practice sessions with the advanced-swordsmanship teacher, where they handled real swords all the time, she would have handled it improperly and cut herself… no, she would have sliced her thumb clean off…!
"A-am I really allowed to have it…?"
Blanid asked almost pitifully, making it seem as if the thought of Rotsard changing his mind and taking the gift away was the worst thing she could imagine.
"You already do~ I think you will find it very useful, for sure you will need it to… Nevermind. Oh, that's right. It should defend itself from others using it without your permission. As for what that permission is... To give it, you would need to hold the sword in both hands, and the one who you're lending it to should take it with one hand, holding it between yours. Otherwise… well, this little thing will assume it's being taken against your will and defend itself."
"!!!"
Rotsard nodded with a smile that turned slightly somber, before straightening his back and gasping in realization, then proceeding to give an additional explanation that left Blanid's mouth agape.
"..."
*tk*
Blanid closed her mouth and swallowed her saliva. She then picked the scabbard up and sheathed the sword until it latched with the same satisfying sound.
She then hugged the sword while blushing.
"Wh-what's its name…?"
"...!"
Blanid suddenly raised her head and asked, looking at the bleached-blond-haired youth with eyes filled with innocent expectation, making him freeze up for a second.
He… did not expect that question. It was too childish, too… pure.
The sword wasn't just some thoughtful gift. Rotsard made it in secret, without even mentioning it to Syon, even though he would surely be of great help in that endeavor.
How could he?
Rotsard created it with a dual purpose in mind… to give the future hero a weapon that would make him a useful ally once the Arch Deofol realizes that Rotsard wasn't going to play with its rules...
...or, in case the story would follow its track and he, Rotsatd Vallhall would succumb to gedwyld...
Yes, the second purpose of the sword given to the future hero Justin was a failsafe in case he would find himself in a situation where he would have to kill Rotsard Vallhall once he deofolizes.
If he deofolizes...
As such, he never thought of something like a name for a tool meant for that. A named weapon was something out of a legend or a fairytale that parents or grandparents tell children before bed. They were supposed to be something encouraging, happy, or inspiring.
…what the future hero was holding so affectionately was none of that, not to Rotsard…
But, at the same time, the little face the person Rotsard believed to be the future hero, Justin, was making was piercing right through the anxiety and fear Rotsard felt.
The youth was reminded about his father… back when Rotsard was a child, and his father was showing off some amazing attacks and giving all of them silly names to make him gasp in awe as he applauded each and every one while his mother laughed happily from the side…
Then, Rotsard's mind turned back to the story… Before the final encounter with the Arch Deofol, the hero's party would go on a search for a weapon of legends, Caladbolg, but it would end up as a major setback. After fighting their way through a maze in a mist-covered island that emerged from the depths of the holy lake of Avalonnia every blue moon, they ended up finding some broken pieces of a rusted common shortsword instead… But instead of giving up completely, the hero would pick those pieces and continue traveling the land. He and his party find the best blacksmith of the known world, a living legend, and ask them to forge a new weapon. Upon the blacksmith's request, they would then visit five great spirits, and after completing many trials, they would receive blessed materials from each of them. Upon return, they would give the blacksmith all the materials and the broken pieces of the sword they found in the maze. Afterwards, after the blacksmith poured his actual soul into his greatest and last creation, the hero would receive the sword worthy of slaying the Archdeofol, and give it an appropriately grand name…
…that said, taking that name or something similar would be a bit too far, wouldn't it…?
"...~"
Instead, Rotsard smiled with only one corner of his mouth going up. He realized what name would make the future hero happiest at the moment.
"Caladbolg's shadow."
"!!!"
He said and watched as the eyes of the petite girl in front of him lit up with awe and adoration as she perked up. Just the widest smile blooming on her face!
Exactly the reaction he hoped for. It assured that his gift would become a perfect motivation for the future hero.
"May it serve you well."
"Th-thank you~!"
Rotsard said, his smile faltering again as the actual purpose of the weapon never escaped his mind, but the petite girl hugging the sword noticed none of that, too overjoyed to look past her gift.