as placed on him were heavy, but not burdensome.

He was not hung up on to Mistiltein, but he would be happy to have it as his own.

But, truly, was the thing truly worth putting up the ‘Gram’?

Gram, the sword of the hero Sigurd.

Sigurd was arguably the most famous hero of Norse mythology and while he was not a god himself, but the term ‘sacred artefacts’ includes hero’s weapons too.

And in the case of Gram, it surpassed even the weapons of the gods.

“Now, now, let’s calm down for a moment.”

Miller panicked and took control of the situation.

“The deal has been going on for a while, but there's a matter that needs to be settled first.”

“That’s right.”

Quinie interjected.

“Is this a real mistiltein in the first place?”

All eyes turned to Quinie.
She had been watching the situation unfold, but now she stepped forward to calm things down.

“If this isn't mistiltein, then this transaction is a whole different matter.”

It was too early to make a deal assuming that it is genuine.
In the first place, it was only valuable because they didn’t know if it was real or not.

“Then, who's going to verify it?”

Lidwig gestured to the transparent coffin surrounding the mistiltein.
There was only one simple way to find out and that was to break that casket.

Right now, the mistiltein couldn’t sense any divine energy.

But if its because the coffin has 'erased' the energy, mistiltein could be a 'new thing', including that transparent coffin.

If so, breaking the coffin was a risky endeavor and no one wanted to receive divine punishment.

“I'm not checking.”


“I can't confirm whether this branch is mistiltein or not.
Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.
he value of this object is inherently that.
We need to remember this and proceed with the deal.”

In other words, the value that this object creates by itself.
If you make an expenditure equal to that value, the deal is made.

That was Quinie's thought.

If you trade on the assumption that this was the real mistiltein, Quinie cannot impose any conditions that are worth it.

Nor does she want to.

However, if they assume that this is just a symbolic Mistiltein that cannot be used in reality, the price will drop and the families who want it will change.

One that doesn't want the Mystiltein as a weapon, but as a heirloom.

That's Quinie, and the families like hers.

At this rate, we might be able to get it fairly cheaply…….’

“I don't care.”

A word that cut off her thoughts then.

In a voice like a verdict, Enfer said.

“As long as you can prove it's real, that's all that matters.”

“……Yet you're willing to stake your sword? What if that isn't real?”

Hortel asked, surprised for once.

“If it's not real, that's it.
That's all.”

“Sounds stupid.
What does it mean to offer 'Gram-“


The voice was mingled with a light breath, and the air sank that much.

“My days are long past.”

Those were words I dared not say.
Everyone looked at Enfer in bewilderment.

“Atzier will surpass me.
So what good is a sword to me?”

“……You, are you really going to throw away the Gram?”

“Do not make me repeat myself again and again.”

Enfer's eyes were hard.
He's never been like that.

“Mistiltein belongs to Atzier.”

The words that stunned everyone present.
They were conclusive, clear and definitive.

Quenie sighed.

She hadn't expected Roach to be so insistent.
But she couldn’t help it, it was time to step back.
He's offering the gram, but what could she do?

There were other things of value.
Everyone seemed to agree with him.

However, at that moment, a voice, akin to a blade of grass, drifted from somewhere.

“There is no need, Father.”

A voice that was so different from Enfer's, so relaxed, as if it were a casual conversation.

However, the words were anything but lighthearted.

The gap between the tone and the content was so wide that everyone reacted one beat later.

“Frondier, refrain from speaking.”

My brother, Atzier, cautioned.
Enfer narrowed his eyes too.

A low, boiling voice came from his mouth.

“Do you know what you are talking about?”

“Of course.”

My voice was still flat, as if I was oblivious to the atmosphere.

Lidwig leaned in uncomfortably close to me.

“How old is he? The second son that Enfer has been hiding.”

For the first time, Lidwig looked directly at my face, which he hadn't been interested in before.

It was languid and carefree.

In a good way, it was, but in a bad way, it had the color of laziness and indolence.

Will he be the one to go into battle one day with such a peaceful face?

“Young one.
You don't understand the topic and you're interrupting, huh?”

I glanced at the snarling Lidwig for a moment.

Just for a moment.

Then I looked away and pointed at Mistiltein.

“Father, there is no need to give up Gram on something that isn't even real.”

Lidwig was momentarily stunned by my words.

Did he just ignore me?

“Who are you to say such things without knowing?”

“How I know, I have no way of proving.”

I took a step forward, as natural as water flowing.
In a relaxed manner, as if going for a walk.

At the end of that peaceful stride, no one was any less certain that there would be peace at the end.

I stood in front of the coffin and placed my hand on it.

“It's easy to check.”

When I said those words, everyone knew what I meant.

From the moment I stepped up, everyone had a bad feeling.

Enfer, Atzier, Hortel, and Elodie all moved at the same time and stopped.

They tried to stop me, but it was too late.
No matter what they did, I was already ahead.

For them, I might get my hand cut, or even get myself killed.

“If you're really fed up with that, aren't you afraid of God?”

Flustered, Lidwig's dialect became even more bizarre.


I laughed.
It was a laugh that didn't read the real mood and made the air around me languid.

“I've never been afraid of anything.”


The coffin shattered.

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