How to Live as the Enemy Prince

A middle-aged man who seemed to be the owner of the smithy stepped into the shopping area. He seemed to forge the products himself – his thick, muscular arms were glistening with sweat.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Do you have a sword for a boy around seventeen years of age? It can be as long as an adult’s, but I’d like for it to be light. The kid hasn’t held a sword in a while.”

The man stared at Calian questioningly. 

He talked as if he were asking for a sword that was for a child much younger than him, yet his voice sounded nowhere near as old as seventeen. 

However, he knew better than anyone that prying too deeply in a place like this could immediately reduce his lifespan.

The man nodded. 

“Yes, please wait just a moment. I will bring some out for you.”

“Alright.”

When the man disappeared deeper into the shop, Calian studied the other weapons that were on display. 

Just then, a small knife about the size of one span of his hand caught his eye. 

It had no handguard for the purpose of hiding it in one’s clothes and its sheath had a leather belt attached to it so that the user could buckle it around their arm.

Calian reached out his arm and picked it up. Although it was just a knife, he could tell by the grip that it was well-balanced. When he drew the knife, its sharp iron blade gleamed under the light. Calian’s face lit up with satisfaction.

“This should be enough for me.”

Calian had not asked the owner for his own weapon. It was for Kyrie, whom he had encountered on the way to the horseback riding show, to use during practice. 

Even if Calian were to use a sword himself, he wouldn’t be able to use one that is forged using common iron as it wouldn’t withstand his aura for long. 

‘I guess the same goes for my body right now too,’ he thought.

He recalled the cry of his sword that shattered on the day of Bern’s death. 

Of course, it would be safe and sound right now, but Calian would never be able to see that sword again; Bern’s sword was a precious sword that was passed down the royal family of Secretia for generations.

Thinking about his sword also reminded him of the mage who shattered his sword and killed Bern. He was covering his face with a white mask. Calian’s lips stretched into a wide smile.

‘It hurt really bad. You can bet that you’ll get what you deserve if I see you again.’

“Here you go, sir.”

The voice of the owner snapped Calian back to reality. He had brought three long swords. Although they were supposed to be on the lighter side, Calian couldn’t even pick them up with just one hand.

‘What a mess,’ Calian pushed away the self-deprecating thoughts.

He held the sword with both hands and lightly swung it around, carefully examining it everywhere. 

Since it would be Kyrie’s first sword, he had to take extra care. Its centre of mass  was well-balanced. So was its pliability and sharpness. 

‘Even though it seems like a normal smithy, he’s highly skilled.’

The owner became more and more puzzled. This mystery customer whose face was veiled under a hood – who, at that, seemed like just a boy – was examining the sword like a sworn professional. 

The manner in which he was pinpointing the crucial features of each sword was even stricter than that of a high-class knight. And yet, he couldn’t even pick up a sword properly.

“I’ll take this sword and this knife.”

While the owner was in deep confusion about the customer’s identity, Calian picked out a sword. The owner himself would have chosen the same sword.

Calian took out eight silver coins and paid for the sword and the knife. 

“Did you forge all the weapons in this shop yourself?”

“Yes sir, I did.”

Right away, three gold coins were placed atop the counter. The owner’s eyes widened in shock as the amount was worth almost four times more than what Calian had just paid.

“I need a sturdier sword and a guardless dagger. They can both be average-weight.”

“Is it for the wielder of this sword to use when he gains more experience in using a sword?”

Calian nodded and added, 

“You are indeed correct. He is very tall and deals heavy blows, but he isn’t slow. I want him to use both of them for a long time, so I’d like for them to be durable and carefully forged. Will you be able to do that for me?”

The owner memorised the description of the sword’s wielder and eagerly replied, 

“Of course. Is there a name that you would like to engrave onto the sword?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Yes sir. When would you like them done?”

“I should be the one asking that. As long as they’re well-made, I don’t mind waiting.”

The owner hesitated for a moment and said, 

“Then I will find the best materials to forge a sword that will satisfy you. Could you stop by again in about a month?”

“I’ll do that. If it happens to amount to more money than expected, I will pay more when I come by.”

“Yes, thank you.” The owner bowed lightly. He handed the knife to Calian and brought the sword outside to mount the sword onto Raven’s saddle.

At that moment, Calian could swear that he saw the whites in Raven’s eyes. Calian frantically waved his hand around and took the sword in his arms instead. 

“No need, no need. I’ll do it myself.”

Thanks to this damn horse that’s only obedient to its owner, Calian had to struggle with all his might tying the sword onto the saddle. He buckled the leather belt that was attached to the sheath of his knife around the inside of his forearm and climbed onto Raven.

His next destination was a shop that sold something a little more special.