The Academy’s Weapon Replicator - Chapter 5

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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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The Academy’s Weapon Duplicator Episode 5
Chapter 2: The Branch in the Casket, Mistilthane (1)
Deep in a moonless night.
A woman walked with quiet steps.
Her long blonde hair caught the moonlight, shining alone against the darkness around her.
Eyes slightly downturned, gait measured and calm.
There was a melancholy grace in the way her gaze seemed to gently push away the scenery—the kind of bewitching charm that would make any man turn to look twice.
So the woman continued at that unhurried pace, until—
“……Hm.”
She opened her eyes. Or rather, her eyes had been open all along—she was merely waking from a dream.
A few strands of hair clung to her lips.
“……Ah, I’m home.”
Elin looked toward her front door.
She checked her clothes.
“Nothing torn, nothing dirty. Good.”
Last time she’d walked all the way home with a leaf stuck in her hair.
Yawn. Still drowsy—though when wasn’t she? She stifled another yawn.
She opened the front door.
“Oh, you’re home?”
Her brother was sitting on the sofa, greeting her without taking his eyes off the WizardView—if you could call that a greeting.
“Aster.”
Elin shot her brother, Aster, a suspicious look.
“What?”
“Do you know anyone from House Roach’s first-year class?”
“Who’s that?”
“Frondier. The Lazy Human Frondier.”
Aster tilted his head further at her words.
“……Who’s that?”
Elin sighed.
Her brother was far too indifferent to the world around him. She couldn’t believe he didn’t even know who Frondier was.
“Someone saw you with Frondier. In the training hall.”
“……Oh, that guy?”
Something seemed to click for Aster.
“But we weren’t really together. I just greeted him in passing. He looked like he was waiting for someone.”
“Hmm.”
Elin made a short sound and walked past Aster.
Her brother watched her go with a baffled expression.
“Wait, that’s it?”
“I was worried you were getting mixed up in something strange.”
Elin took out a water pitcher and poured a glass.
She heard Aster snicker behind her.
“You’re joking. You sleep all day long—”
Whoosh. Elin’s hand flicked out.
The cup at her fingertips and the water it held flew toward Aster in a perfectly level arc, as if she’d pushed it across a table.
Aster caught it with his hands, then let his body fall backward with the momentum, twisting slightly to send the force spinning through his frame.
Splash. The water inside sloshed.
Elin watched with an unmoved gaze and spoke.
“You spilled it.”
“That’s what happens when you throw it like that!”
“Want me to throw you like that too?”
Damn it. Aster swallowed his frustration and drank the water.
With Divine Power, he wouldn’t even be a handful.
To chase away the stray thought, Aster turned his attention back to the WizardView.
“Huh?”
News was playing on the WizardView.
The content made Aster freeze.
[We now turn to breaking news. A party that cleared a dungeon near Solgitop has discovered a Divine Artifact. The artifact is a branch nearly two meters long, and its appearance bears a striking resemblance to Mistilthane, causing quite a stir—]
“Mistilthane?”
Elin responded to Aster’s murmur. She set down her water glass and moved to his side.
On screen, a party member was holding a transparent casket of some kind. Inside it lay a long branch.
An interview was just underway.
[Why did you keep it inside the coffin?]
[We didn’t place it there. It was in this state when we discovered it in the dungeon.]
[You never thought of breaking the coffin open?]
[Hardly. If this coffin itself is a Divine Artifact, we could risk incurring the wrath of the divine.]
[I see. There’s speculation in certain circles that it might be Mistilthane—what’s your take on that?]
[We honestly can’t say for certain. If it really is, we’d certainly be thrilled!]
The party leader laughed cheerfully.
Listening to that voice, Aster studied the twig within the coffin quietly.
Elin watched Aster’s expression and asked.
“……What do you think it is?”
“I couldn’t say. I’ve never seen the real thing.”
“Does he have any sense of it?”
Aster shook his head.
The “he” Elin spoke of was Baldur. Since he was the weapon that had killed Baldur, Aster had hoped it might convey something to him.
For reference, most gods have experienced “death.” Just as the gods did throughout long history and mythology.
Yet this didn’t mean they vanished entirely. Rather, they had departed from the human world.
They now existed in the “Realm of Salvation,” a concept somewhat higher than the Greek “Underworld” or the Nordic “Hel’s Domain” that appear in their respective mythologies.
Because of this, Baldur too would exist there, and if he so wished, he might be capable of offering Aster some hint or clue.
Unfortunately, Aster had received no such hint from Baldur.
Yet his gaze remained fixed on the twig, as though nailed to it.
“But you do want to confirm it for yourself?”
“Yes. If it really is Mistilthane, I need to have it.”
The twig that had killed Baldur.
For Aster, who bore Baldur’s love, it became a weakness in the same breath.
Conversely, if he could only possess that, his greatest weakness would vanish.
More than that—if he could master it himself.
If there were anyone who could wield that Divine Artifact, if there were anyone permitted by the divine to use it, wouldn’t that be none other than me?
[Then what are your plans for the Divine Artifact? You won’t be able to use it as is.]
[We believe it’s a weapon above our station to possess. We’re considering a sale if we can receive the appropriate price.]
“……Aster.”
“I know.”
That weapon will surely command an enormous price. Real or fake—it makes no difference. Even if it were fake, it would be real until the genuine article surfaced.
Any family uninvolved in warfare would never dream of using such a weapon.
They would never prove its authenticity, simply enshrining it in the family vault.
That alone would elevate their prestige. That use alone would drive the price skyward.
A commoner like Aster Evans couldn’t even dream of such a sum.
* * *
“Heard? About Mistilthane?”
“Oh, the auction was cancelled, wasn’t it?”
A few days later.
Constel was abuzz with talk of Mistilthane.
Whether student or professor, everyone’s attention had turned that way.
The party that discovered Mistilthane had put the Divine Artifact up for auction. But it was soon cancelled.
This was expected. What the great houses had put forward could not be reduced to mere currency.
Eventually, the heads of the great houses were to gather in one place for negotiations. Lesser nobles wouldn’t even be permitted to attend such a gathering.
Today was the very day of that noble assembly.
Unusually, today all eyes in the classroom had turned toward Frondier.
Separate from his nature, Frondier was unquestionably the son of a great house.
His father, Anper de Roach, is said to hold deep affection for his son.
Though by “son,” this refers not to Frondier, but to his older brother, Astier.
Moreover, there was Frondier’s recent statement as well.
“Mistilthane wouldn’t look like that”—his incomprehensible boast had spread like wildfire through the entire year. Now the moment when that boast would be exposed was fast approaching.
With these various reasons overlapping,
interest in Frondier at Constel today had skyrocketed.
Of course, Frondier himself remained the same—quiet, languid, his face drowsy as ever.
“Frondier.”
After class, Elodi came to find Frondier in his classroom.
Constel has six classes per grade level.
Though Elodi and Frondier were in the same year, they were in different classes.
Frondier is in Class 5, while Elodi is in Class 2 with Aster.
Since Aster is the protagonist of the game Aethius, most of the named characters are concentrated in Class 2.
As Elodi approached Frondier, the students’ eyes turned toward them both.
But Elodi’s action was, in a sense, inevitable.
She too was the daughter of a noble house—the daughter of House Rishe, which stood as a rival to House Roach. She would naturally attend today’s conference.
“Don’t say anything strange when we’re at the conference.”
Elodi spoke as though issuing a warning.
“Something strange?”
“Like how Mistilthane doesn’t look the way it should, or whatever.”
“I won’t say things like that. Don’t worry.”
“It’s not worry—it’s shame. I’d rather not be the one embarrassed. Well, as long as you don’t spout nonsense, we’re fine.”
Elodi exhaled pointedly.
Frondier laughed.
For just a moment, a glimmer of light crossed his languid face.
“There’s no need for that. It’s mine.”
“…What?”
What did he just say?
Mine?
“You mean it belongs to House Roach?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Then say it that way. Don’t speak so strangely.”
* * *
Frondier and Elodi made their way toward the school gates together.
Many students watched them as they passed.
Like a bride and groom emerging from a wedding hall.
Though the truth of their relationship was closer to the opposite.
“Elodi.”
Someone approached. It was Aster.
The two promising talents in the same class naturally knew each other.
In terms of the game’s progression, this was around the time Aster would break the ice with Elodi.
“Have a good trip.”
“Sure. Though there’s nothing I can really do there.”
Elodi laughed and offered a jest.
Aster smiled back, though there was a hint of tension in his expression.
“Elodi, could I ask you one favor?”
“Hmm?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but if possible, bring back Mistilthane. I’d feel assured knowing it was in your hands.”
Elodi’s smile turned wry at Aster’s words. She was not unaware of his situation. Yet it was far more complicated than his plea suggested.
From House Rishe’s perspective, Mistilthane was not worth such desperate pursuit.
If they could obtain it, they would, but it was not valuable enough to spill resources over.
The house most likely to secure it was House Roach.
The household head, Anper, was said to do anything for Astier.
There was good reason for Frondier to claim that Mistilthane was his.
“…Well, I’ll try my best.”
Elodi said this.
Depending on how the conference unfolded, she might at least be able to voice her opinion once or twice. Though she was uncertain how much weight it would carry.
“Don’t worry, Aster Evans.”
At that moment, Frondier spoke suddenly.
Aster looked toward Frondier.
The two were nearly strangers, save for their encounter in the training hall.
To this Aster, Frondier spoke calmly.
“I will ease your worries.”
With that, Frondier walked on.
Elodi followed a moment after.
“What was that supposed to mean? That you’d ease his worries?”
“Exactly what I said.”
Exactly what he said—but what did that even mean?
Elodi’s expression grew uneasy.
In truth, Frondier had a concern more pressing and anxiety-inducing than the conference itself.
It was the figure waiting for him at the school gates—that was the problem.
“Frondier.”
A cold voice called to him from in front of the halted carriage.
The first impression Frondier formed of this man was, if it could be likened to anything, that of a blade honed to killing sharpness.
Sharp yet unrelenting eyes. Every line of his firmly set mouth spoke to that same quality.
By the standard of beauty alone, his features were among the finest on the continent, yet few would dare approach a visage so keen it seemed it would cut at the slightest touch.
“……Brother.”
This man was Frondier’s elder brother: Astier de Roach.
He had inherited all the talents of Anper, the patriarch of an iron wall, and upon that foundation had grown into a broken character by the rules of Ethereus itself.
“You have cost us time. Board the carriage. Father waits.”
Astier moved before Frondier could offer a word in response.
It was a gesture of pure inevitability.
Elodi, who had come with him, had already boarded the carriage that House Rishe had brought along.
“……Yes.”
Frondier climbed into the carriage.
This man, whom he had met for the first time today, was his brother, and
the person with the highest probability of seeing through Frondier’s true identity.

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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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