A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special - Chapter 14

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 14. The Small Bird (3)

“Quite cramped in here.”
It was Dezir Armang’s candid observation. The interior space beyond the iron gate was narrower than was comfortable. To be precise, the room itself was spacious enough, but the section allocated to them was confined.
Oddly, barbed wire had been strung throughout to prevent access to the display cases.
“Security concerns—can’t be helped.”
Across from them, behind a wooden display counter, stood a sharp-featured merchant who appeared to be Ujuken, with streaks of white hair scattered sparsely through his dark locks.
Ujuken’s eyes were thin and narrow. His gaze moved restlessly back and forth between Dezir Armang and Pram’s faces.
“The entrance and all—it seems you’re quite serious about security around here.”
“There are too many thieves to count, you know.”
Ujuken pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. The seasoned merchant quickly assessed that Dezir Armang would be a difficult person to handle.
He turned to address Pram instead.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you? A day or two ago. Do you have something else you’re looking to sell?”
“The opposite, actually. We came to look at something this fellow sold.”
Dezir Armang spoke.
Just as the merchant’s face was beginning to show obvious discomfort, he added:
“Of course, not a refund—we’re here to repurchase it.”
At those words, Ujuken’s expression smoothed out like a crumpled piece of paper unfolding.
“Well, you should have said so from the start.”
He walked toward the storage room in back.
Just as the waiting began to feel tedious, he returned carrying a single sword.
It was a rusted blade with its silver coating almost completely stripped away.
He set it down on the counter.
“A cheap iron sword, covered in rust.”
“So the price was 90 Bronze?”
“But this isn’t a sword. It’s too large to be called a Celestial Sword, and it’s too light.”
Dezir Armang realized something.
He recalled the object Doneta had given to Romantica.
“… Kemubin?”
“Exactly. This isn’t a sword—it’s a type of ornament called a Kemubin. Among the martial families, they hollow out a space in the sword’s blade, place something precious inside, and then present it to a loved one as a gift box of sorts.”
Even as the merchant explained this calmly, a shudder ran through Pram’s body. When he had sold the sword, the merchant had offered no such explanation.
The merchant’s next words were even more outrageous.
“The price would be 40 Silver.”
A sum equal to a Hebrion student’s monthly living expenses.
Unable to bear it, Pram objected.
“Hey, when I sold you this sword, you didn’t say anything like that!”
“I’ve never lied. What you asked for was an Appraisal of the sword, and I gave you exactly that. And make no mistake—judged purely as a sword, this is cheap iron goods.”
“Dirty swindler!”
“Enough.”
Dezir Armang cut off his words.
“The price has gone up quite a bit from what he sold it for.”
“40 Silver is a bargain. If I’d known how to open this Kemubin, I would’ve asked for 80 Silver.”
Ujuken raised an eyebrow.
Even for high-quality Kemubin decorated with pure gold, it was rare to exceed 10 Silver in value.
No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t see how this object warranted 40 Silver.
‘But there’s no question—this sword is connected to why Pram will end up using the Celestial Sword again.’
If it meant Pram could take up the Celestial Sword once more, 40 Silver was reason enough to spend it.
Dezir Armang withdrew his purse.
“I’ll take it.”
“Dezir Armang!”
Dezir Armang pulled out 40 Silver coins from his pocket and handed them to Ujuken.
Ujuken counted each coin audibly, his large hand moving deliberately.
“…38, 39, 40. That’s right. Take it with you.”
At the same moment, the iron gate swung open, and the Kemubin was placed in front of Dezir Armang.
Dezir Armang lifted the Kemubin and swung it lightly. True to its appearance, it was far too light for its size—like a sword with its interior completely hollowed out.
So was this merely an empty Kemubin, then?
So the handle is high-quality, but the blade itself is cheap—just a simple Kemubin, then?
‘In my past life, Pram’s sword had a handle exactly like this one.’
Dezir examined the handle with meticulous care, turning it over, running his fingers along it, gauging its weight.
The handle alone was genuinely superior craftsmanship—so much so that it seemed impossible for a cheap iron blade like this.
Dezir continued to study the handle with focused intensity. When his fingers swept across its edge, a knowing smile played at his lips.
‘Found it.’
The handle bore a small, subtle groove carved into it.
The groove was hidden with such cunning that it resembled merely a part of the wood grain drawn in black—at a glance, it would be nearly impossible to spot with the naked eye. Had he not seen the Kemubin that Doneta had given to Romantica, he would never have noticed it at all.
“Take hold of this sword, Pram.”
“What? But… but…….”
“Take it. See the groove carved into the handle? Place your fingernail in it and slide it downward.”
“But…… Dezir. I won’t take this sword.”
“Pram, this isn’t the blade you’ve known all these years anymore. This is a Kemubin.”
“But it’s an empty Kemubin. It’s still just a useless thing.”
Pram lifted the sword. Only the weight of iron. Nothing more.
After carrying this blade for so many years, Pram could be certain of one thing.
This sword was worthless.
“What a shame, Dezir. You’ve simply wasted forty Silver.”
“If this Kemubin were truly empty, you’d be right. But it isn’t.”
“This sword, or Kemubin, or whatever it is—I can only feel the weight of the iron in the blade and the wood in the handle. There’s nothing else.”
“You simply can’t feel it. Because what’s inside has no weight.”
“No weight?”
Dezir’s words sounded almost like a jest, yet his expression was grave. He did not appear to be joking.
“Such a thing couldn’t possibly exist…….”
“If you doubt it so much, why not open it and see for yourself?”
…….
“Do as I say, Pram. Trust me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Pram pressed his fingernail into the groove on the handle.
Click!
Then came the sound of something locking into place. At the same moment, the connection between blade and handle loosened.
Pram drew the separated handle toward him.
And from within the Kemubin, a Celestial Sword emerged, blazing with blinding brilliance.
A blade that gleamed with such dazzling radiance—a silver luminescence so pure it seemed to illuminate the entire world.
“Blangsum.”
Dezir murmured quietly.
“Bl-Blangsum!? That’s… that’s impossible!”
Ujuken cried out in shock at Dezir’s words, while Pram fell silent, holding his breath.
Blangsum.
A metal harder than steel, so durable that weapons and armor forged from it are said never to break—something every swordsman yearns for.
Moreover, Blangsum is so light that its weight is scarcely perceptible.
That was why Pram had never detected anything inside the Kemubin all these years.
And who could have imagined that a blade made of Blangsum would be hidden within such a decrepit iron sword?
‘This is the very sword that Pram used in the Shadow Labyrinth in my past life.’
The air in the room grew thick with shock, nearly suffocating.
The business was done. Dezir turned to the Giant Warrior behind him.
“Open the door. We’re leaving.”
In that instant, as Dezir turned, the Giant Warrior’s blade came down toward him—the touch of steel so cold it stopped his heart.
“How contemptible.”
“Give me that sword.”
“Don’t resort to such base conduct now. You sold me a Kemubin, and I paid the price. Our transaction is finished.”
“Had I known it was Blangsum, I would never have sold it.”
“Had your friend known it was a Kemubin, he wouldn’t have sold it either.”
Dezir’s voice cut like a blade.
“This is precisely what you did to him.”
Ujuken could say nothing more. There was nothing worse than having his own logic turned against him.
When Dezir took another step toward the door, the Giant Warrior pressed the Broad Blade Technique against his neck.
“……So you’re saying we’re doing this, then?”
Clang.
The lock on the iron door opened.
“While I’m being reasonable, you’d do well to listen to what I say.”
Behind the iron bars, Ujuken wore an expression of calm indifference.
Even the merchant, who had considered himself reasonably rational, felt his eyes bulge at the treasure before him. Blangsum was an object of precisely that magnitude of value.
Dezir Armang scratched his head.
‘Well, I deliberately flaunted the Blangsum to provoke him, but I didn’t expect him to lose his wits quite this badly…….’
Ujuken made a gesture of drawing a finger across his throat.
“Kill them both.”
Stride. Stride.
The Giant Warrior advanced rapidly with long strides.
But he had not taken even five paces before he was forced to stop. Pram blocked his path.
“I despise fighting, but if you come any closer…….”
Whisk.
Pram leveled the Celestial Sword forward. His knees bent low, ready to launch into motion at an instant, every muscle in his frame coiled tight.
From his slender build erupted a savage intensity that seemed to explode outward.
“I won’t show mercy either.”

Yet though the Giant Warrior halted his advance for a moment, the result was that Pram’s warning had merely kindled his competitive spirit.
The muscles of the Giant Warrior, who gripped the Broad Blade, writhed. Presently, the enormous Broad Blade and the Celestial Sword collided in the empty air.
“Uuuooooaaahhh—!”
With a roar, the Broad Blade swung with terrible ferocity. Though it appeared to be indiscriminate slashing, there was unmistakably a particular current flowing through it.
A tyrannical flow that crushed the opponent thoroughly and prioritized inflicting damage above all else. Northern swordplay typically followed this pattern.
Moreover, the Giant Warrior was skilled not only in the blade but in Unarmed Combat as well. He feinted with his sword, then drove his empty left fist toward Pram.
Behind Pram lay the wall.
Without hesitation, Pram rolled to the side.
Crack!
The wooden plank shattered like dry straw.
“Grrr!”
The Giant Warrior shook out his right hand in frustration. Wood chips scattered downward.
Had Pram been even a moment slower, what would have shattered would not have been timber, but his skull.
“Kwaaaaahhh!”
The Giant Warrior charged forward again with a fresh roar.
He was relentless.
His attacks were powerful and swift, and even as he wielded that massive blade, he showed no sign of tiring.
Yet what was more remarkable was Pram.
He defended against the Giant Warrior’s assault without so much as a flicker of his brow.
To say he “defended” would be imprecise—he “deflected” was more apt. Pram accepted each blow at an angle with subtle precision, dispersing the Giant Warrior’s tremendous strength. His attacks seemed utterly ineffective.
“Grrrrr…….”
At this turn, the Giant Warrior’s frustration boiled over.
His assault became even more reckless. Faster, fiercer with every stroke.
As Pram slipped sideways, the Giant Warrior closed the distance with great strides.
The space between them was now too tight.
The Giant Warrior brought the Broad Blade down in a vertical strike from above.
A true overhead slam.
This could not be deflected.
“Kwaaaaaahhht!”
The Giant Warrior’s blade swept straight through Pram’s body.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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