Chapter 99 Let the Banquet Begin
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
It wasn’t a planned visit, but thinking about Mother-in-law showing up earlier, maybe I should’ve expected this. Still, her speed was ridiculous. I couldn’t help worrying about how things were running back in the Torakuma domain. Could she have just tossed everything to Yohira’s brothers and come here?
”Once again, I am Torakuma Nobutsuna. Acting Head of the Family. A pleasure to meet you.”
She bowed deeply. I rushed to bow back, fumbling to match her grace. Ethelena stood frozen beside me—her mind hadn’t caught up yet. She probably didn’t even know how to greet someone like “Whirlwind.” Back when we talked, I was usually the one doing all the speaking anyway.
”And this here is the sword instructor serving House Torakuma. His name is Yajū Munenori. Be good to him.”
”I’m Yajū Munenori. Nice to meet you,” he said, light and casual, almost playfully.
The tone threw me off. Yajū… was that a twist on Yagyū? I remembered a Yagyū Munenori, a sword saint from history. Maybe this was some parody name from an eroge, but somehow the surname felt… filthy on him.
”Tatara Julon. I’m the master of this house,” I said quickly, polite but uneasy. Something about the man made my skin crawl. He served the Torakuma family, yet every instinct screamed I should beware him.
”Hmm… so you’re the reason Lady Nobutsuna sent me to this country?”
”That’s—”
”Let’s test that, shall we?”
Before I could finish, a sharp metallic clang tore the air. My body tensed on reflex. Munenori had already drawn both katana from his waist, the twin blades flashing toward my neck—but Yohira and Ichika were faster, their beloved swords catching his strike mid-swing.
I hadn’t seen it happen. Not the start, not even the clash. A no-beat strike—an art of drawing without motion. Two blades unsheathed in perfect silence, crossing my throat in the same instant. If Yohira and Ichika hadn’t been there, I’d be dead.
”That’s not something to laugh about, Yajū Munenori,” Yohira said quietly, her anger cold and certain. “You’ve grown reckless since you taught me.”
”You drew your blade against your lord,” Ichika added, voice trembling with fury. “Don’t expect to leave this country alive.”
Their calm was edged like steel, but Munenori only grinned, lips curling like a beast’s.
”What can you two weaklings even do to me?”
He licked his lips, eyes glinting at the swords they held.
”Did you think wielding god-blades forged by Ame-no-Mahitotsu-no-Mikoto makes you my equals? That’s the thought of insects.”
He looked ready to pounce, a predator savoring the scent. The name Yajū fit him perfectly—no exaggeration at all.
”Sorry,” he sneered, “but those blades don’t suit you.”
”Shut the hell up,” Yohira snapped. “Don’t decide where these blades belong with your filthy gaze and rotten mind.”
I could see it clearly now. This bastard was strong, sure, and his eyes sharp. But to say those swords didn’t suit them? That was unforgivable.
”You’ve got some nerve for a man hiding behind two women,” Munenori mocked.
”Quiet, you blind fool,” I shot back. “Don’t talk about a blade’s worth when you can’t even see the one who forged it. You’ll rot its value with your trash words.”
Yes, I’d made those two blades with what my master taught me, but they weren’t her exact style. Close, yet mine. Believing in my own eyes was fine—but running his mouth without knowing a thing? He should earn an appraisal skill before talking.
”Oh? You call Ame-no-Mahitotsu-no-Mikoto your master?” he taunted. “You don’t even look like you can swing a sword.”
”A blacksmith doesn’t need to swing one,” I said flatly. “If you shove your own ideals into a blade meant for someone else, it becomes nothing but a burden, you third-rate hack.”
You could make something perfect for yourself, but it’d only ever fit you. When crafting for another, you never mix in your own habits. If all you can make are selfish creations, then stop calling yourself a crafter—call yourself an artist.
”So you don’t value originality or rarity?” he scoffed.
”Those come after a blacksmith pours everything into their work,” I said. “If you just want art, go collect paintings, fool.”
His jaw twitched. Maybe he couldn’t stand being talked down to by someone he thought beneath him.
”Then your work must be boring,” he sneered.
”Good. If my skill dies with me, it’s worthless. Craftsmanship should live on—techniques, hopes, all of it. If it ends with one man, it’s truly meaningless.”
”You don’t get it,” he said. “Things shine brighter when they’re one-of-a-kind, boy.”
”If something’s truly valuable, everyone should use it. Wake up, rich brat.”
Why do you think I taught Shamir and Est my craft? Why do you think my master showed me hers? Why did anyone bother teaching you the sword?
You heartless bastard.
”Looks like our values don’t match,” he said softly.
”Yeah. Parallel lines, clear as day.”
He grinned like a beast baring its teeth. Couldn’t win with words, so he’d fight. Too bad—I could see it coming.
I pulled two iron swords from my inventory and swung, aiming for the katana Yohira and Ichika were locking down. The testing art my master named for me struck true—four shattering sounds rang out. The beast’s eyes widened in shock.
Even so, his instincts were sharp. He leapt back fast, widening the gap.
”Those were fine blades, nameless but good. What kind of magic was that?”
”You stopped your blade in front of a blacksmith,” I said. “Breaking was the only outcome.”
I stored the ruined hilts and grabbed two more swords. He saw that and grinned, drawing another katana with a low hum.
”Better than the last ones,” he said. “Think you can break this one too?”
”I can.”
I stepped in. The space between us vanished. He met me head-on, confident, testing me. The instant our blades met, both shattered into glittering shards.
”You knew your sword’s limit,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “Turned its breaking point into your strike’s force?”
As expected of Torakuma’s sword instructor—he’d already analyzed my technique. I drew again, swinging hard. The moment the blade left my inventory, it met his and shattered anew. His face twisted in frustration as the shards fell between us.
”Yeah, Tatia is amazing,” I told Sunny-chan, grinning. “She stands at the very front, protecting everyone like a true knight.”
”Really!?” Sunny’s eyes sparkled.
”Really.”
”T-Tatara-dono… that’s too much praise,” Tatia stammered, cheeks turning red.
As I went on about her, Tatia’s face deepened in color until she looked like she might start steaming. If Ethelena or Yohira were here, they’d join in and heap on more compliments—she’d probably melt into the floor by now. Guess she’s lucky it’s just me.
”I’m not exaggerating,” I said. “You take the most dangerous job up front during every exploration. That’s just a fact.”
”I only do it because I can. My body is harder than most.”
”Being able and actually doing it—that’s the hardest thing.”
There are plenty of people who can do something but don’t. Rich fools, cowards—take your pick. Facing pain or fear and still stepping forward takes real courage. I only took the shield because I couldn’t stand watching Ethelena get hurt. I could never be like Tatia, ready to protect anyone.
”What do you even think I am, Tatara-dono?” she asked.
”Our knight,” I said with a straight face.
”You really are impossible!”
She shouted, flustered and red, but since Sunny was sitting on her shoulders, she couldn’t even swat me. If her hands were free, my shoulder would’ve paid for it.
Laughing, we reached the garden. Along the way, I dragged out Lord Clumsy—who’d been hiding behind a bush—and together we stepped into a scene so tense the air itself seemed to warp. Ethelena stood locked in a silent standoff against Anna-chan and Nina-chan. The pressure between them buzzed in the air like heat. Thank the gods Yohira and Ichika weren’t in it too.
”Why is Ethelena-dono losing her composure like that?” Tatia murmured.
”Losing composure?”
”Yes. She only acts that way when a certain type of threat appears.”
Wait, what? Threat?
”Those two are certainly charming,” Tatia continued, her tone careful. “Their figures are also… full. But Ethelena-dono is on another level entirely.”
”Yeah,” I agreed. “Even among the top faces in this fantasy world, she’s unmatched.”
Even in this land of eroge-level beauty, Ethelena stood apart. Even without counting succubi or shadow-born beauties, she had the kind of face you’d call world-breaking. Yet she never flaunted it—that’s what made it easy to forget how stunning she really was.
”What’s your relationship with those two?” Tatia asked.
”They’re my childhood friend’s younger sisters. Guess that makes them my childhood friends too?”
”Ah, so that’s it…”
She nodded like she’d solved some mystery. I didn’t ask what she meant—talking about women’s logic was a losing game anyway.
”Um, it’s our first time meeting, right?” Anna said.
”Yes,” Tatia replied, bowing slightly. “I’m Tatia, a knight-in-training. Nice to meet you.”
They exchanged names and shook hands. From the way they both smirked after, I could tell they’d just sized up each other’s training level. Two warriors recognizing strength—kind of fierce, kind of scary.
Alright, everyone was here. Time to open the banquet.
Ichika and Dahlia moved through the crowd, handing out drinks. Ichika had changed into one of the shop’s maid uniforms—don’t ask why—and Dahlia, as always, wore hers naturally. The sight of both together was enough to make even nobles swallow hard. The City Mayor looked like she’d taken a direct hit from an enemy spell, collapsed on the living room floor like a defeated rival character. I helped her into a chair and shoved a drink into her hands.
For the adults, we poured a rare spirit gifted by the church—something said to be impossible to mass-produce. A little voice, maybe a drunk god or just my gut, whispered that this should be our first drink. It was also the finest brew from the city’s best distillery—something you should savor before anything else touched your tongue.
The kids got top-grade fruit juice from the Color Farm, courtesy of a generous uncle. I’d pay him back later. Ethelena would probably sneak over to share with them anyway—she loved that juice, and it was hard to find.
Alright, speeches weren’t my strength, but as the host, I had to start us off. I took a deep breath and spoke.
”Thank you all for gathering here today.”
Every gaze, from the smallest child to the oldest guest, turned toward me. My throat tightened, but I pushed through.
”As part of our early exchange of technology between nations, Lady Kasumi Torakuma, wife of the Torakuma Lord, and Lady Amatsu, a blacksmithing artisan, have both completed their term of cooperation successfully.”
Truth be told, my mother-in-law had joined the project unexpectedly. Still, her adaptation of Hizuru’s cursecraft into spell formulas had greatly boosted mana efficiency here. That alone was a huge gain.
”We also thank them for introducing a new style of weapon creation and teaching this city the katana technique,” I continued.
It wasn’t me who learned swordsmanship—it was the idiot—but thanks to that idiot’s talent and the katana’s nature, he’d become unbeatable in close combat within the academy. That was all thanks to my mother-in-law’s supervision. Hinagiku-san… well, she hadn’t exactly worked out as a teacher.
”To show our gratitude, we’ve prepared this banquet. Please, enjoy the food and drinks to your hearts’ content.”
I glanced toward the special cutting stand I’d prepared for the tuna. Once the toast was done, I’d pull it out from my inventory and carve it up. Just one drink wouldn’t dull my hands, but the weather was warm—about twenty degrees. I’d have to serve it fast before the freshness faded. Ethelena’s beef stew would be ready by afternoon; between that and the fish, we’d feast all day.
”And now,” I said, lifting my cup, “let’s finish this long speech with a toast. Cheers!”
”Cheers!” everyone echoed.
Every hand raised, every glass clinked. I took a sip. The spirit had alcohol, yes—but its smooth texture and clean, sweet aroma made it glide down like silk. There wouldn’t be seconds; it was too rare. And honestly, one cup was enough. Any more, and you’d never stop. A proper test of restraint—very fitting for a drink from the Church of Wine.
”Tatara-kun, what is this amazing drink!?” someone shouted.
”It’s a rare vintage from the church,” I said. “They shared a small amount with me. Only enough for one round.”
”You can get something like that!?” another asked.
”Just got lucky this time.”
Some kind soul at the brewery had overheard me talking and offered it from their own stash. I couldn’t even recall their face—but they were definitely good people.
”Hmm,” Nobutsuna murmured after a sip, eyes thoughtful. “Even in Hizuru, you rarely find a drink of this quality.”
”That good, huh?” I said, smiling.
Notes:
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi.
• Dahlia – The automaton.
• Amatsu – A master blacksmith and a female. Demonstrate forging skill to Tatara. The duel arises from Tatara’s request for guidance. Senior craftsman guiding Tatara. No kin known. Golden right eye and calm mastery define her.
• Hinagiku – A tengu woman as Ranka’s potential companion. She stays with Tatara’s group after travels. Joins household scenes only. Linked to Ranka by shared gluttony jokes. No direct tie to Tatara beyond cohabitation. Cheerful eater.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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