Chapter 89 A Blade That Cuts Everything⁕
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Heh heh, it’s truly massive, isn’t it? It won’t even fit in the mouth.
Yohira opened her mouth wide and tried to take my—yes, my—Oni Cleaver, as she called it. But it was too big, so she pulled away, her voice full of surprise and mixed emotions.
”I’m not even sure if it could fit in my belly. Even we Oni might split apart if we took it in.”
Yohira licked from base to tip like an ice cream cone. Ethelena was more skilled, but Yohira’s clumsiness excited me. My breath quickened.
”Are you excited, Tatara? Because of my clumsy mouth?”
”It’s not about skill—it’s because it’s you.”
Yohira rubbed my manhood—now even harder—with both hands as she said that, and I somehow managed to answer her. My body craved anyone’s touch, turning it all into pleasure. I hadn’t noticed with Ethelena, but now it felt wrong.
Yohira tried again, but even the tip filled her mouth. Even Ethelena couldn’t handle it, so Yohira definitely couldn’t. It would block her airway.
”Does Ethelena always take this? It’d go straight through her!”
”Honestly, even I think it’s too damn big.”
”You’ll never bed a normal woman, Tatara.”
”I’d be in trouble if it got any bigger.”
”Is that so? I think it can still grow more.”
”Don’t say such ominous things…”
Even with the women I had now, I felt at my limit. But according to Ethelena and Yohira, Tatia was a candidate too—so four of them? That was a hell of a lot for any normal man.
As we talked, Yohira licked the underside and glans, teasing me. She studied my reactions to find my sensitive spots—her combat instincts now used here. I’d have no chance against her in a fight.
”Mmm… Tatara, something’s leaking.”
”It’s precum. Proof I’m enjoying it.”
”So you weren’t just being nice.”
”Of course not, damn it.”
I wanted to push her down and thrust in. Having any reason left felt like a miracle.
”…Tatara, do you want to enter me?”
”…Honestly, I want to thrust in.”
Yohira looked troubled—she thought her clumsy mouth wasn’t enough. Her hand moved between her legs, her instincts taking over.
Seeing that, I couldn’t hold back.
”T-Tatara…?!”
I ripped off my shirt, spread it on the floor, and pushed Yohira down. She didn’t resist. I pressed against her, keeping the tip away.
”Sorry, Yohira, I can’t wait.”
”B-But I might get pregnant…”
”I won’t enter. Just hold it between your thighs.”
I hugged her legs and slid between her thighs. It rubbed her folds and clit, giving her pleasure.
Yohira’s thighs were soft yet firm, her skin smooth. I moved slowly, then faster. It was her first time, and she was overwhelmed.
”T-Tatara! This is amazing! My head’s… going blank!!”
Yohira’s body flushed red, her mind foggy. I cast Sex Sorcery to increase her sensitivity.
”〜〜!!?”
She cried out, arching her back. I moved faster. The clit stimulation made her climax, her body bowing.
She squirted, soaking me. Yohira covered her face, panting.
”Yohira, are you okay?”
”…Do I look fine?”
”Honestly, you looked amazing.”
She glared through tears, her voice raw with need. I pulled her hands away and kissed her. It started soft, then deepened.
”…Tatara, wasn’t it good for you?”
”It was—but why ask?”
”You haven’t finished.”
Yohira looked down, unsatisfied, at my manhood—still standing tall and hard. True, I hadn’t ejaculated, but it had felt plenty good.
”A little more?”
”I’m close.”
”I’ll help.”
Yohira climbed on me, pressing her small breasts together.
”…Ethelena was right—you’re insatiable.”
”I’m at a loss for words here.”
Yohira rubbed her nipples along the shaft, then stroked me with her body. She licked and sucked the tip, her small breasts and nipples stimulating me.
I erupted quickly. Yohira’s eyes widened as semen filled her mouth. She tried to pull away, but I held her head. It spilled from her lips. She swallowed some, but coughed out the rest.
”Sorry.”
”You’re a pervert, Tatara,” she spat, glaring at me through tears.
I apologized. She cursed me, and I accepted it.
”Were you practicing?”
”…My mom’s been teaching me.”
”…Can’t comment.”
”Don’t push it.”
Her glare made me look away. My manhood softened, but her glare could make it hard again. I held back.
”You’re all over me… I need a bath.”
”At least your hair’s clean.”
”That’s rich, coming from you.”
My fluids are the cause.
”I’ll intrude.”
Then the worst—or best?—visitor arrived. A save?
”Ichika…?!”
”Hmm, Yohira beat me. She looks untouched.”
Ichika was too calm. Mother-in-law sent her.
”Ichika, take Yohira to bathe?”
”As you command. Master, you’re calm?”
”She knew and came here. Mother-in-law told her.”
”Spot on.”
She was happy I understood. If not, she’d be pissed or heartbroken.
”Excuse us, master.”
Ichika buried her face in my crotch. Why!?
”H-Hey!?”
”As your servant, I must clean you.”
Ichika licked my manhood, covered in semen and spit. It was sensitive, but her touch made it hard again. Her saliva smeared the mess.
”…If you can’t clean it, I’ll punish you.”
I reached for her core. Her underwear was wet, outlining her slit. I traced it, pinched her clit, and broke her focus. Her mouth work got sloppy, so I increased the torment.
Yohira watched, aroused, and rubbed herself. Ichika blushed, trying to hide. I hugged her, spread her legs, and exposed her dripping core to Yohira.
”M-Master, stop! Yohira’s watching!!”
Ichika tried to cover up, but I licked her neck. She moaned and froze. I opened her collar, revealing her large breasts and stiff nipples.
I cupped her breasts and sucked her nipples. Ichika wailed, gushing. Yohira watched, fingering herself faster. Ichika’s legs went limp. I traced her slit, toyed her clit, and drew cries. Yohira copied me, chasing pleasure.
Ichika climaxed, screaming and squirting. Yohira followed, shaking. Both panted, filling the room with gasps.
Afterward, I sent them to bathe and cleaned alone. The air smelled of arousal, but I ignored it, aired the room, and scrubbed the floor. I pulled my guard katana from inventory.
My forged guard katana, ‘Yakikiri,’ looked proper now. Yohira resisting my Charm bothered me. As lovers, she should accept me. But letting Charm through from anyone close was wrong.
”Failure…”
I’d planned party sets, but it wasn’t enough. I drew the katana and eyed the blade. Mithril gleamed, mocking me.
”This won’t protect them…”
(Are you giving up on the guard katana?)
A voice startled me. ‘Chef’ was there. How?
(Stopping the gift?)
I hesitated, then spoke.
”I can’t trust it. It failed twice today.”
(When?)
”Midday test—rage magic affected me. Just now, my Charm affected Yohira easily.”
(Can I borrow it?)
’Chef’ took the katana, closed her eyes, and touched the blade. She communicated with it, then faced me.
(When affected by magic, it resolves: ‘With righteous fury, we grip the sword.’)
”A demon-slaying blade?”
Don’t chant suddenly. That world’s power is insane. Who muttered about my lower half?
(When Charmed: it thought ‘Fuck her! FUCK HER!!’)
”A lecherous blade!?”
Why does this katana have an ego already? A demon sword?
(Its performance is excellent. It blocks all negative effects for the wielder.)
”Master agreed.”
(It blocks negative effects. Given to undead, it’ll block healing too.)
”…What?”
Deadlier than I thought. Does ‘bad influence’ cover that?
(It’s young, but in a century, it’ll block gods.)
”Its performance is insane.”
(Your wish to protect is strong. Be proud.)
’Chef’ spoke indirectly, but her care reached me.
”…Can I gift this?”
(Those two girls will be safe from threats.)
”…I’m relieved.”
A guarantee from ‘Chef’? I can trust it.
”What do you want? A cleaver?”
(You said to order a cleaver. This one’s special.)
What does ‘Chef’ want? No clue.
(A tuna cleaver.)
”That’s special.”
It’s like a katana. Learning from Master sparked this.
(900mm blade.)
”That’s a katana.”
Like Ichika’s ‘Botan,’ a straight katana.
(Use this material.)
’Chef’ gave 4kg adamantite. Enough for a 90cm cleaver. Adamantite cleaver? Strange.
(Return in a week. Use all you learned.)
”I accept.”
’Chef’ smiled, curtsied, and left. She wants it after I learn everything. Master holds back. He’s a tease. Teach failures too.
I want to learn cleaver forging first.
”…Questions?”
”Yes, a few.”
”Ask.”
”Teach me cleaver forging.”
”…A cleaver.”
Master expected a wild question. He crossed his arms and looked up.
”What type?”
”A tuna cleaver.”
”Another strange request.”
Master found it odd. Did Hizuru have cleavers? A tuna gift needed tools.
”Length?”
”90cm blade.”
”…Why not a katana?”
”She’s a cook, not a fighter.”
Master looked up again. He’d taken similar orders.
”Cleavers use katana skills. You can forge it.”
”Only proper?”
”I’m not a cleaver smith.”
Even a blade master admits he’s weak on cleavers—damn pride there. Man-killers and tuna-splitters? Different beasts, though both blades.
”Still, I’ll teach cleaver basics.”
”Won’t budge on that, eh, Master?”
Outside his wheelhouse, but teaches swords anyway—Master’s the real deal.
Katana vs. cleaver? Blade structure. Cleaver’s double-edged, reverse of katana’s soft-iron sandwich—core iron bares as the edge. Common Japanese cleavers go single-bevel, flat one side—but flips for handedness. Past work said ‘Chef’s right-handed, but gotta confirm. Double-edge easier, but it’d turn into wide, thin special-ability katana—gut feeling.
Sketching designs and forging steps, I caught Master sighing huge, staring. My shape? Katana with cleaver’s jutting blade—looked wrong as hell.
”…This no good?”
”More man-killer than tuna cleaver.”
”Ain’t that just a katana?”
Master looked away at my words. Shit, sorry for making you pick ’em.
”Tomorrow: cleaver practice…”
”Cleavers? Forge solo.”
”…Been solo on katanas from start.”
”Don’t erase my damn purpose!”
But yeah, gotta hammer thin, razor edges nonstop for cleavers. Shave-katana sharp and slim, yet tough—rips hard hide without chipping. Adamantite’s tough, but needs more tricks.
So I locked in the forge alone when all slept. Dodged Ethelena’s shifts, lit the furnace, heated five kilos mithril. Forged katana-style—but huge. Total length two hundred centimeters, blade width fifteen, thickness one—monster katana. For killer cuts, sharpened thin—blade spread wide natural. Honed it careful. Two-meter edge took forever—sky turned blue by finish.
”…Fucked up.”
Lost in work, burned a full night blacksmithing. When’s the last time? Lately, stacked efficiency—sword in an hour. Honing included? Whole damn night.
”But… feels damn fresh.”
Dawn sky cloudless—prime training day. Set honed blade on bench, crashed living room sofa. Fatigue fogged my brain—I shut eyes, stole some sleep.
Then Master kicked me awake.
”Hey, Tatara! What the hell’d you forge?”
”Uh… sorry.”
”Tatara-san, what purpose drove you to birth that ultra-hazard?”
Seated formal in living room, Master and Mother-in-law tore into me nonstop. That blade I honed till dawn—no tang even—needed Mother-in-law’s barrier to contain.
”Purpose: sharp as hell, test cleaver tech—that’s it.”
”And birthed THAT…”
”Tatara, even you—that goal don’t justify it.”
I missed it, but they swore the thing screamed danger. Their words? Blade was pure nightmare.
”Uh, didn’t Appraise it… what’d I make?”
”Conceptual armament. Worst fucking kind.”
”…Lately, conceptual gear’s too easy, huh?”
”Own it—you made ’em.”
Master calls it top-tier nasty—what concept’s packed in? Moved to workshop, faced the thing.
”Concept’s ‘Severance.’ Viciouser than mine.”
”Worse than Master’s ‘Severance’ conceptual…”
”No tang—can’t fit katana gear… My barrier? Tip sliced it clean.”
”No, seriously fucked.”
Way beyond dreams. Not just physical—magic too. Why not Inventory it? ‘Severance’ would shred the damn space. Shit, no sheath. No tang—no grip. Grab ridge? Slip, fingers fly off instant… We’re screwed?
”Gotta fix this…”
”Tried Appraise—sliced interference. Dull-curse? Useless.”
”Worse news piling sucks… Master’s katana in Inventory how?”
”Mine don’t shred storage. Proves your conceptual’s leagues above.”
No joy in that gap proof—nobody wants this sharp. How to sheath? Bare? Drop it—floor splits. No.
Worse: Idiot brings kid siblings today. Keep ’em from workshop, forge—but five and three-year-olds? Promise hold? Doubt it. His kin—good listeners—but kids? Wildcards. Hazard spot breached? Dead end.
”No gear ’cause no tang, this blade.”
”Drill hole in blade, screw-pin? Vibration drops it mid-work—terrifying. Conceptual blocks ‘Crafting’ too…”
Expected no Appraise, but no ‘Crafting’? Hits hard. Sheath first or die—adamantite sheath? Slices easy, gut-trust. Past life legend: ‘Stab ground, world ends’ sword—special sheath. Memory hooks… but slips.
”Sheath needs concept too… ‘Indestructible’?”
\”‘Indestructible’ won’t cut it—too weak.”
”Stop time inside sheath, halt interference?”
”How forge time-stop concept…?”
”Okusama, dreaming big.”
”Yeah…”
Three heads, Manjushri wisdom—still no fix. Even Bodhisattva stumped on world-cutter sheath?
”…Uh, breakfast’s ready—eat?”
Right then, Ethelena’s voice rang out. Shit, we’d been tangled in this emergency—three heads scratching—but hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet.
”…For now, let’s eat first, then think.”
”Yes, we need fuel to work our brains.”
”Yeah, can’t fight on an empty gut, as they say.”
Blacksmith trio paused the brain-bust, headed for chow to fuel the fix.
Notes:
• Yohira – Torakuma’s first name.
• Ichika – The fox girl. Kunoichi.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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