The Sword Master’s Son-in-Law

– Side Story – [Teddy and Sheffirius]

Side Story – [Teddy and Sheffirius]

Teddy of the Idler Family.

The boy, ten years of age.

Currently, the boy was steeped in a state of rapture.

The reason he was currently lost in rapture was singular.

A single fairy tale book.

“Ah…Sheffirius!”

In Teddy’s hands was a book titled ‘The Biography of Marcus.’

A common, run-of-the-mill fairy tale filled with heroic sagas.

In the tale of ‘The Saga of Marcus,’ the protagonist Marcus’s sword was called Shephirius.

“Shephirius is the best, without a doubt.”

Most children, upon reading this book, would be consumed by admiration for Marcus himself.

But Teddy was different.

Marcus, the hero of the story…

He didn’t admire him.

Teddy’s object of adoration was Shephirius, Marcus’s weapon.

“Marcus’s rise to fame only began after he obtained Shephirius, see!”

The point at which Marcus’s renown began to spread across the continent…

Teddy decreed that it was precisely from the moment he acquired Shephirius.

And in truth, it was so.

Before, Marcus had been but a hero in potential.

His fame barely extended past the neighborhood bully.

But from the moment he wielded Shephirius, he began to make a name for himself.

“A hero needs a good sword, just like Shephirius! That’s all there is to it!”

Teddy nodded, satisfied with the conclusion he had reached.

Wasn’t it the truth, after all?

Heroes each possessed a renowned blade.

Even the bravest warriors wielded legendary swords.

Even gods used legendary weapons.

“It’s not that a hero appears and then a sword is forged for them. It’s the sword that is forged, and then a hero appears.”

Without a good sword, there would be no hero.

Teddy held such an extreme view.

And so, Teddy defined Shephirius thus:

A sword that fosters, or even creates, a hero.

The very definition of Shephirius, as he conceived it, resonated within him.

“When I grow up, I’ll get an amazing sword like Shephirius too.”

Still only ten years old, Teddy already knew his future.

Born into a noble family, but the second son.

There was little chance he’d inherit a title or lands.

Nor was there any need to suppose he’d inherit them.

Because that title was only that of a Baron.

Even if he fought tooth and nail in a succession battle, all he would gain was a Baron’s title.

Thus, Teddy had abandoned all thoughts of succession from an early age.

If he was born the second son of a Baron, what paths were open to him?

Typically, a knight or a scholar.

These were the two choices he needed to contemplate.

Though there was really not much to contemplate.

Teddy’s choice was a knight.

He would become a knight and live like the hero in the fairy tales.

To be precise, what I truly desired was a blade like Sheffirius, a truly exceptional sword.

At any rate, that was young Teddy’s dream.

*

Teddy, now a knight, became a member of the Silver Order of Knights through a stroke of fate.

A truly glorious thing it was.

To become part of the knights of House Messiah, the family of the Sword Saint.

‘Disappointing, one might say.’

But to be honest, Teddy was a little disappointed.

‘The pay is… meager.’

With experience comes better pay.

But before gaining seniority, Teddy’s salary was far too low.

‘No, no. Isn’t it said that every little bit counts?’

Even small wages, when collected, can become a substantial sum.

Teddy began to tighten his belt.

He saved and scrimped, painstakingly accumulating wealth.

Even earning the inglorious nickname of ‘Tightwad Teddy’ within the Silver Order of Knights.

He saved every penny… and finally.

“G-give me that one, please.”

He had managed to gather the money he had been aiming for.

The money to buy a sword.

He resolved to buy a sword he had been eyeing for some time.

Of course, it wasn’t a sword with the kind of performance found in fairy tales.

‘This sword may not be Marcus’ Sheffirius…’

It was a luxury blade, but it fell short of being called a hero’s weapon.

It was even a little lackluster compared to other luxury swords.

‘But I like this one.’

The shape of the sword he was about to purchase was exactly like the Sheffirius he saw as a child.

Of course, there was a possibility that Teddy’s memories had faded and been embellished.

Even considering that, the shape of the sword was the Sheffirius that Teddy had always envisioned.

The price was also reasonable.

‘This is now Teddy’s Sheffirius.’

Teddy named the sword Sheffirius.

And with a thrilled heart, he drew the sword.

*Shwing.*

The clear, pure sound of the blade being unsheathed.

The grip, feeling as if it were molded perfectly for his hand.

It was such an ideal sword.

‘So that’s why people prefer expensive swords.’

Teddy was freshly realizing the advantages of a sword that cost money.

However, once he actually bought the sword, a problem arose.

The Care of a Sword.

That was the problem.

Teddy had resolved to cherish Sheffirius.

Naturally, meticulous care was part of that.

And so, he decided to wield it carefully from the very start.

“Wasn’t it said that monster blood corrodes a sword quickly?”

Wasn’t monster blood highly acidic?

That’s why he never used the sword when subjugating monsters.

“It’s only natural that blades will be damaged if swords clash.”

He didn’t use it during mock duels with real swords either.

Of course, if the blade was damaged, it could be repaired.

But-.

“Even if it’s repaired, if you entrust it too many times, there will come a day when it’s unusable.”

Therefore, he didn’t use Sheffirius during subjugations, nor during duels.

Just a talisman.

To Teddy, Sheffirius was like a talisman.

Teddy’s feelings for Sheffirius didn’t end there.

“It was said that a person’s feelings for a legendary ego sword manifest through divine miracles, wasn’t it?”

Teddy’s wish was for his sword to become an ego sword.

So, he treated it as if it were a living thing.

He would hug the sword while sleeping.

Firmly believing that one day, it would become an ego sword.

Thus, as time passed, Teddy deepened his affection for his beloved sword.

“Teddy… you aren’t thinking of your sword like it’s a partner, are you?”

“…Swords aren’t dolls? Keep that in mind.”

“If you’re not going to use it, can’t you just give it to me?”

Even if his colleagues gave him strange looks and nagged him.

*

Clink-. Clink-.

The sound of thin pieces of metal colliding.

Teddy’s gaze turned to the bundle in his hands.

This bundle contained Teddy’s memories.

“Sheffirius…”

The shattered fragments of Sheffirius.

They filled the inside of the bundle.

And Teddy returned to the Messia family estate.

He headed to the rear of the lodgings.

“I’m sorry…”

Teddy dug a hole in the flowerbed in the back.

And placed the bundle into the hole.

The bundle holding the shard of Shephirius, that is.

“If only I had been more attentive…”

And then he covered it with earth again.

The mound rose naturally, plump and round.

Shephirius’s grave was made.

“If only I had watched my surroundings…”

If only I hadn’t let them take my sword,

none of this would have happened.

Teddy, while lamenting his weakness…

“I will have my revenge, no matter what.”

Did not forget the perpetrator of the crime.

“Just you wait.”

Teddy knelt before Shephirius’s grave.

His fists clenched tight, he steeled himself.

“I will get revenge, one way or another.”

*

The day after vowing vengeance.

Hell Week came.

And there, Teddy met kindred spirits.

“Commanders…!”

Two commanders who had suffered the same pain as him.

He rejoiced at the thought of having comrades.

But-.

“You’re talking nonsense. What’s the big deal about a broken sword?”

It was Commander Bertnia who spoke.

Just a sword.

Commander Bertnia was not the kind of person to be his comrade.

“Hearing your story, it sounds like you’re upset about a broken sword… You seem a little petty.”

He was, in fact, an enemy.

An enemy who made him out to be a petty person.

“It’s probably because you have no experience with women that you’re so petty.”

Suddenly, Bertnia shifted to a strange topic.

Teddy was taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“Knowing a woman will make you more magnanimous.”

Bertnia said, sending a sticky gaze Teddy’s way.

He suddenly recalled a rumor he had heard in the past.

A rumor from when he was a new recruit.

‘Be careful of… Commander Bertnia.’

‘Why is that?’

“They say if any decent-looking recruits arrive…he drags them into his chambers. You understand what I mean, yes?”

That was the sort of talk that had kept Teddy away from Bertnia all this time.

Teddy realized he’d made a mistake.

He hastily retreated.

“I, uh, I should be going.”

Watching Teddy leave, Bertnia clicked his tongue, a hint of regret in his eyes.

“A promising one, that. A pity, truly.”

Leaving the regretful Bertnia behind, Teddy sought out Commander Pandert, another potential ally.

Teddy had believed Pandert would be on his side.

But Pandert was resolute, contrary to Teddy’s expectations.

“A broken sword only proves your weakness. Were you strong, it would not have broken.”

Pandert’s words, a firm refusal to become comrades.

“Perhaps you should spend that time honing your skills, hm?”

But Teddy wanted to refute Pandert’s words.

*My weakness* caused it to break?

It was the person who borrowed the sword who broke it in the first place.

It wasn’t broken in a contest of strength.

Ultimately, Teddy decided they couldn’t understand each other.

Teddy was alone once more.

Alone, Teddy pondered.

‘…Even if I have to do it alone, I *will* see this through.’

Teddy, utterly alone.

Silently, he stoked the flames of his resentment.

*

Behind the Pure Silver Knights’ barracks, lay a flower garden.

Within it, a small rise.

The grave of Shephirius.

“I don’t think I can avenge you.”

Teddy lowered his head in silent apology to the grave.

‘Curse me, if you must.’

At Teddy’s waist hung not the standard-issue sword, but another.

A masterpiece forged of pure mithril.

The second Shephirius, recompense from Arthurus.

Needless to say, being crafted of pure mithril, it was far superior to the previous sword.

“I suppose I am just another knight, aren’t I….”

A knight craving a better blade.

Teddy turned his back to the grave of the former Shephirius.

Wiping away a tear, Teddy left the grave behind.

‘This much I promise. I will cherish this one even more than I did you.’

Teddy, now equipped with a new sword.

He glanced down at Sheffirius resting at his hip, a warmer smile gracing his lips than perhaps ever before.