[Name: ??? (Lost to time), Nora (Former)

  Condition: Battered (Dire Need of Repair)

  Rarity: Common Sword (8 ATK)

  Skill(s): Spirit Vessel

  Quest 1: Bind yourself to an owner

  -->Status: Complete

  -->Reward: Claimed

  Quest 2: Recover from 'Battered' condition

  -->Status: Incomplete

  -->Reward: Name]

  [A 'battered' bastard sword, useful for its ability to be wielded with both hands or just one. There appears to be more to this blade than meets the eye… Currently owned by Grail Initiate Romeo.]

  “Say something.” Said Romeo, looking down at the sword laying on his bed.

  ‘Something.’ Responded Nora, happy to go along with her new partners requests for now.

  Romeo took a step backwards, still looking at the worn-out blade, his eyes carrying with them a boyish curiosity that he would not likely admit.

  “Say something again,” He repeated, before adding. “With the same volume,”

  ‘Something again,’ Nora echoed.

  “There’s no change for me.” Romeo noted, “I think I’ll be able to hear you from any distance, regardless of physical barriers.”

  ‘That’s fine and all,’ Started Nora, trying to play the part as the mysterious voice. ‘But since we’re partners now, I really should be staying by your side at all times.’

  Taking a seat next to the blade on his bed, Romeo raised an eyebrow. “Partners?” he repeated slowly, unsure.

  ‘Yes,’ Nora replied with what she hoped sounded like confident dignity rather than desperate optimism. ‘You know. Mutual cooperation. Strategic alliance. I’ve got lots of information you’d find valuable, y’know.’

  In actuality, Nora wanted to steer Romeo towards the Mythos Academy, which would be where the main story would take place. She had had a lot of time to think of a plan to get back out of her sword form, and her best bet would be a certain side-villain near the early starting point of the game.

  Romeo turned the blade slightly in his hands, studying it with the same careful scrutiny he might give a suspicious animal. The lantern on the small bedside table cast a dull glow across the rusted fuller, highlighting the cracks that ran dangerously close to the guard. Nora was starting to realise that she probably didn’t look like a very reliable sword, even if she could talk.

  “Information,” he repeated at last, the word carrying more curiosity than scepticism. “You said that earlier as well. If you’ve got valuable knowledge, you’re doing a poor job selling it so far. All I’ve learned is that my sword is loud.”

  ‘Look, I can’t exactly dump everything on you at once. But I know things about monsters, dungeons, relics… that sort of thing. More importantly, I know where opportunities are.’

  Romeo’s expression didn’t change much, but his grip on the hilt shifted slightly as if the comment had caught his attention. That was enough encouragement for Nora to keep talking. ‘For example,’ she continued carefully, there’s a place called Mythos Academy. ‘Ring any bells?’

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  Romeo frowned faintly. “Of course it does. Every noble house with a knightly order sends promising initiates and heirs there at some point.”

  He trailed off for a moment, then glanced down at the blade again. “But admission isn’t something you just decide to do. It’s expensive, competitive, and usually reserved for the upper ranks of an order.”

  Nora brightened internally. That reaction confirmed the setting matched the game almost perfectly. Mythos Academy was exactly where the story of Hero of Orichalcum truly began, and more importantly, where one particularly dangerous professor conducted experiments that blurred the line between relic and living soul. If anyone in this world could theoretically separate a spirit from a weapon, it would be someone there.

  ‘Right,’ Nora said, trying to keep the excitement from leaking too obviously into her voice. ‘But think about it logically. If you’re aiming to become a Grail Knight, that place is basically the fast track. Better instructors, better resources, and you could live out all sorts of youthful fantasies. Even if you’re not a prodigy, someone with enough determination could get in.’

  Romeo leaned back slightly on the bed, letting the sword rest across his knees as he mulled the idea over. “You’re assuming I even have the option,” he replied after a moment. “Most initiates train for years before anyone considers recommending them. I haven’t even completed my first formal evaluation.”

  Nora paused, mentally recalculating. In the game’s timeline Romeo hadn’t been a member of the cast, which meant she had some flexibility in nudging events without ruining the story.

  ‘Then consider this an investment,’ she said at last. ‘You help me get repaired, we train together, and when the time comes you aim for Mythos Academy. You improve your chances of becoming a knight, and I get… well… access to people who might know what to do with a sentient sword.’

  Romeo did not answer immediately. He remained seated on the edge of the bed, the battered sword resting across his knees while he stared at the far wall as if weighing the suggestion against a dozen other thoughts. The lantern light shifted slightly with the movement of the night air, making the crack along Nora’s guard glint faintly. Eventually he exhaled through his nose and rubbed the back of his neck.

  “That’s a very ambitious plan,” he said at last. “Especially considering the current state of my equipment.”

  Nora felt the insult immediately.

  ‘You mean my current state,’ she corrected.

  Romeo tilted the sword again, studying the rust along the fuller with an expression that was not quite critical, but certainly not reassuring either. “You said it yourself,” he replied. “Condition: Battered. Even without that strange window you keep mentioning, I could tell that much.”

  ‘Temporary problem,’ Nora said quickly. ‘We just need repairs.’

  “And how exactly do we repair a sword that talks?” Romeo asked.

  That question stalled Nora for a moment. She had thought about the broader objective, getting to Mythos Academy, but the immediate logistics were less clear. In the game, damaged relics were usually restored by blacksmiths using rare materials or mana-infused techniques. However, those mechanics were originally designed for players with inventories full of loot and quest rewards. Romeo, on the other hand, was an initiate living in a small frontier town.

  Still, the logic should hold.

  ‘A blacksmith,’ Nora said eventually. ‘I just need to get sharpened out a little, shouldn’t be too complicated.’

  Romeo gave a quiet snort. “In this town? The best we have is Master Havel, and he spends half his time fixing plough blades and wagon axles.”

  ‘That’s still a blacksmith,’ Nora insisted. ‘Start there.’

  Romeo did not seem entirely convinced, but he rose from the bed anyway, pacing a few slow steps across the room while turning the sword absently in his hand. The movement caused Nora’s point to swing gently with each stride. “Even if he could repair you,” Romeo continued, “it would cost money. Proper reforging always does. And we would need materials.”

  ‘Then we get materials.’

  “From where?”

  Nora considered that question carefully. The forest outside town had already proven capable of producing a wendigo, which meant there were certainly other monsters nearby. Low-tier creatures, most likely -wolves, goblins, scavengers- but those were exactly the kind of enemies that dropped the raw components used in early weapon repairs.

  ‘The forest,’ she said finally.

  Romeo stared at the blade for a moment after that answer, his expression settling into the weary look of someone who had just realised his evening was about to become far more complicated than he had hoped. The quiet room seemed to hold its breath while he considered the suggestion. Then, slowly, he let out a long, exhausted sigh and dragged a hand down his face.

  “You realise,” he said, glancing down at the blade briefly, “that if Havel decides you’re beyond repair, this entire plan ends there.”

  ‘I have backups.’ She insisted, although not entirely truthful, ‘My current form may be lacking one, but I promise my brain is bigger than yours!’

  Romeo stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him before starting down the narrow dirt path that ran between the cottages. The village had grown quiet since nightfall; most of the lanterns had already been extinguished, leaving only a few pools of amber light scattered along the main road. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked once before falling silent again, and the low murmur of voices drifted faintly from the direction of the tavern. Compared to the chaos of the forest earlier that day, the calm atmosphere felt almost surreal.

  They turned onto a wider road that led toward the outer edge of the village, where a faint orange glow flickered against the night sky. Even from a distance Nora could hear the steady rhythm of metal striking metal, the ringing sound carrying clearly through the quiet air.

  Clang.

  Clang.

  Clang.

  Romeo nodded toward the glow.

  “That’ll be the forge,” he said. “Havel keeps strange hours.”

  As they approached, the shape of the workshop gradually came into view. The building was larger than most of the cottages surrounding it, its stone chimney belching thin streams of smoke into the cool night air. Through the open doorway Nora could see the bright interior of the forge itself, where the silhouette of a broad-shouldered man moved slowly in front of a blazing furnace.