“You bet,” I replied. Ren already had his own sword made from Phoenix materials, a weapon he had received from his master. It was called a “Scissors Sword,” able to split into two blades or be used as one big one.
Ren was looking at the katana he made, sighing to himself.
“You got a problem there?” I asked.
“What makes you think that?” he replied.
“The way you’re acting, it would be strange to think otherwise,” I stated. From what I had seen, it looked like a pretty solid weapon. He’d mixed in some of Filo’s feathers she had shed. That was likely to make Motoyasu jealous, if he heard about it. Filo had recently become “Filo of the Wind,” one of the four heavenly kings, in Kizuna’s world. That made her well suited to providing materials. It was impressive that she was still helping out, back here in the past. Maybe I should have Ren use the remaining feathers to make a staff for Melty.
“It’s just . . . whatever I make, it feels like I hit a wall. I can’t match my master in anything, let alone quality. Master said my work is too bland, that I’m just doing what I’m told—what I think he wants—and I need to put more of myself into my work . . . but I don’t really know what that means,” Ren said. In this new light, I looked at the katana, shield, and other practice pieces that Ren had made. I saw it immediately.
“Yeah, bland. That really is the word,” I commented.
“Shield Hero, I don’t think you should . . .” Imiya said, stunned at how blunt I was. I loved getting that kind of response from her—like I did with Raphtalia. The banter would have proceeded even more smoothly if she finished her sentence and pushed me a little harder.
At that moment, Raphtalia herself was off with Eclair—a knight from Melromarc, who was Ren’s guardian. They were helping out with our trading. The two of them had been training too. They got along pretty well.
“What I mean is they’re balanced but average . . . no outstanding strengths, but no staggering flaws either,” I said. They would be easy to use, for sure. I didn’t hate that. But they could be a little more . . . stimulating too.
“Hurts my ears to hear it,” Ren admitted. “That’s exactly what Master said to me—that I’m not working a production line here. Can you tell me what I should be doing instead, Naofumi?” I wasn’t sure I should tell him anything. Keeping quiet might be better for Ren’s own personal development. One could often improve at something by simply doing it repeatedly. Even before we started training, I was using my free time to make accessories and medicine. Making medicine had been pretty easy, especially with my cooking experience.
I showed Ren the designs that Imiya and I had just come up with.
“This is the answer here,” I said.
“That looks pretty nice,” he said, but also furrowed his brow a little. Then he looked at the one Imiya created and didn’t seem sure what to say. It was written on his face though; he wanted to use it.
“We designed this to add an auto-tracking feature to your float weapons. Hopefully it will work,” I told him.
“You did?” he replied. “Okay then . . .”
“We’ll make it using materials suited to that purpose,” I assured him. I seemed to remember not only the accessory dealer but also Motoyasu II telling me that a deep understanding of materials was vital for accessory work. He only mentioned it once, so I’ve pretty much forgotten about it.
Ren had a bigger problem than that, anyway.
“Ren, you need to stop holding yourself back. That’s why you keep choosing these plain, unremarkable forms. You need to bring your adolescent semi-goth, death-metal sensibilities to the fore! Let your freak flag fly!” I told him. As soon as I said it, I knew it was a terrible line. So cheesy and bad. I would never have gone for that myself, if someone said that to me.
“What the hell? What are you talking about? I’m not into that stuff!” Ren shouted, shaking a little woodenly and averting his gaze. This was exactly what I’d been thinking about before—he understood the truth, deep inside, but was too embarrassed to admit it.
“You were a jerk when we first got here,” I told him, keeping the blunt streak going, “but I think you would have been better suited to this kind of work. You need that kind of confidence! Let Motoyasu work with Filo’s materials and I’m sure he’d make something better than this!” Motoyasu had already been making clothing for the filolials by hand. His skills with needle and thread were so impressive the Sewing Kit Hero S’yne considered him a rival. The source of that power was his insane—almost sick—love for Filo. If I asked him to make clothing that would allow Filo to shine even brighter, and that used Filo’s materials . . . the results would be so epic I almost considered doing it. Of course, Filo was highly unlikely to wear anything Motoyasu made.
“You think that’s all I need to do?” Ren asked.
“That’s how this world works. Makes me sick to say it,” I told him. The student from the bottom of the barrel has more room to grow than the perfectly sculpted honor student. It sounded like the main character from some pulpy novel, and I could kind of understand his desire to deny it. “What I want to say is you need to push down your reason a little and work based on instinct. Presupposing you have the skills required for the task, of course.” He was able to blend Filo’s feathers into metal, so he had to be pretty good at this. I might be able to use a Filo feather as an additional little decoration, but I couldn’t hope to mix them with metal. The two hardly seemed compatible to me. Being able to pull that off told me that Ren’s forging skills were already pretty advanced. What he needed was to break free of the internal limitations he placed on himself. If he continued to be reticent, taking the bland and safe path, he would never be able to bring out the true potential hidden in these materials.
The weapons old guy and Motoyasu II had cautioned him on this point too. Back then he had been trying to make a sword, but it had turned into a katana. They had told him to listen to the voice of the materials and then bend them to his will, but Ren clearly hadn’t made it to the “bending” part yet.
“Start by using life force as you work. That should provide you with some kind of image; make what you see,” I suggested.
“Ah. Master said something like that. I think I get what you mean,” Ren replied.
“So go get good at it,” I told him. I’d never heard the “voice” of ingredients when I was cooking. That annoying rotund noble had gone on about the ingredients being happy, but who cared about him? No one, I was hoping.
It almost made it sound like I was bending the ingredients to my absolute will. That wasn’t the case. I was just cooking them based on my culinary experience. I wondered if that was the “voice of the ingredients.” Nope, I was pretty sure it wasn’t. I’d been working within the realm of home-cooked foods, basically, but recently my confidence in that area had taken a drop. I’d been called things with a kitchen theme too, like the “Pot Lid Hero.” I still hadn’t forgiven the one responsible for that, and never would.
“I get it, but . . . easier said than done,” Ren admitted.
“Let your embarrassment go. No one makes the perfect product their first time out. Honing yourself a little at a time is how you get better at things like this,” I reassured him.
“Okay. Can you watch me for a while? If you think I’m holding myself back, let me know,” Ren suggested.
“I might break your concentration, but okay,” I agreed. Ren nodded and then started preparing the katana for another forging. “We’ll keep going with our accessories too. Don’t worry, I’m watching,” I said. Imiya and I started working on our accessories again, a short distance from Ren. Keeping focused on providing the assistance to float skills for Ren, I took a Glawick ingot created from Glawick ore and started my work. I’d need to add some gemstones too.