Chapter 42
Chapter 42
Chapter 42. Oppa, Guess What This Is Made From?
It was only after spending five full days resting within Rokan’s sanctuary that my vigor completely returned.
When I first collapsed, I had naively assumed I would bounce back in twenty-four or forty-eight hours and head straight back home, but the mending process took far longer than anticipated. Looking back, a significant reason for that misjudgment was my excessive confidence in Rokan’s capabilities. Regardless of how severely my body had suffered from straining myself with Dragon Tongue, I took it for granted that Rokan’s curative arts would patch me up almost instantly.
“Still, if it took this long even with your assistance… I suppose that proves my state was truly that dire, doesn’t it?”
I directed the question toward Rokan, who stood nearby, while shedding the loose patient robes and slipping back into my regular attire.
“It was perilous, certainly, but the unusual nature of the affliction played an even greater role. You collapsed after pushing beyond your limits to wield Dragon Tongue, meaning I could not simply rely on Dragon Tongue to remedy the backlash. Furthermore, because the damage ran deeper than ordinary physical trauma, restorative magic possessed inherent restrictions.”
Hearing his detailed explanation gave me a chilling reminder of how close to the edge I had truly walked.
Regardless, now that my physical condition was back to peak form, the path forward was straightforward: return to daily life, clear gate raids, and continue sharpening my capabilities through relentless practice. Even if my invocation of Dragon Tongue had been unrefined and partial, I had still successfully unleashed it. Breaking past such a massive hurdle meant I had genuinely advanced to another plane of strength.
The desire to test this new growth set my heart racing with anticipation. Then an abrupt thought crossed my mind.
“Rokan, come to think of it, what became of my weapon?”
The matter of the Dragon Bone Sword I had entrusted to his care had slipped my mind entirely until now. Rokan had warned me from the start that the structural harm was so extreme he could not promise a complete restoration, leaving me curious about the outcome.
“I managed what I could, at the very least.”
Reaching into his dimensional storage, Rokan withdrew my Dragon Bone Sword. Upon initial inspection, it looked completely identical to its undamaged state, yet the undertone in his voice hinted that the repair was far from total.
“Even so, achieving perfection was impossible. In practical terms, it will likely exhibit around sixty percent of its original output at best.”
“Ah, I understand…”
Sixty percent of its baseline was still remarkably lethal given how monstrous the blade originally was, yet an unavoidable pang of regret settled in my chest.
Would it be wisest to just keep swinging it in this state?
Then again, considering all the effort and expertise he had expended on fixing it, asking something along the lines of ‘Could you simply forge me another one?’ would be terribly ungrateful. I briefly contemplated reaching out to Sia to see if she possessed a spare Dragon Bone Sword in reserve, but upon further reflection, that felt equally inappropriate.
Shattering a weapon she had gifted me and immediately turning around to ask, ‘Do you have a backup?’ seemed like the quickest way to make her furious.
Right in the middle of these conflicted thoughts, an incoming call from Sia arrived.
“Hello?”
The instant the connection went through, her face popped up on the display. It might have been my imagination, but she looked noticeably more drained and weary than the last time we spoke.
[Oppa, morning! How is your body feeling right now? Are you all right?]
Because my recuperation had dragged on longer than planned, she had clearly been beside herself with worry. Was that intense fretting why her complexion appeared so worn out, accompanied by prominent dark rings around her eyes?
“Grandfather told me I’m fully healed now. He gave me the all-clear, saying I’m completely mended and free to return home.”
[Phew, what a relief! Truly, your well-being comes before everything else, Oppa! You have to promise to be careful!]
Her heartfelt encouragement alone seemed to instantly replenish my stamina.
[Oh, and Oppa, I put together a special gift to celebrate you getting discharged!]
“A present?”
[Yep! I bet it’s going to completely blow your mind.]
I had zero inkling as to what she could have prepared, yet her radiant grin suggested she could hardly contain her excitement to see how I would react.
[Grandfather is standing right next to you, isn’t he?]
“Yeah, he’s right by my side.”
[Tell him to hand over the gift I sent for you!]
Before I could even relay the request, Rokan, who had naturally overheard every word of our back-and-forth, pulled another object from his dimensional space.
“…Another blade?”
[It’s a Dragon Bone Sword! Grandfather let it slip to me. He mentioned that the one you were wielding ended up broken. Why did you try to hide that from me?]
I had explicitly requested that Rokan keep the broken weapon between the two of us, but he had clearly spilled the whole story to her without hesitation. When my gaze snapped toward him, the elder let out a boisterous laugh.
“There was hardly any reason to conceal such a minor detail. Neither of us is a stranger to Shasha’s character. Did you truly believe she would hold a grudge simply over a damaged weapon?”
“Well, that’s fair, but still…”
Even so, I had preferred that Rokan quietly resolve the blade’s condition before Sia ever found out about it.
[Since things turned out that way, I went ahead and crafted a fresh one myself! How does it look?]
A blade personally constructed by Sia’s own hands.
Taking the weapon from Rokan, I inspected it with great care. The immediate impression was that the degree of craftsmanship poured into this Dragon Bone Sword vastly surpassed the previous piece I had used. The earlier sword had possessed an elegant design, but this one demonstrated an almost obsessive level of refinement. The sheath alone made that abundantly clear, and the edge appeared honed to an even more terrifying degree of sharpness.
Perhaps the distinction stemmed from the fact that an unfamiliar dragon had made the original, whereas this one had been fashioned by Sia exclusively for my use.
Furthermore, another detail immediately caught my attention.
<MJ♡SA>
Reflecting the fact that it was a personal gift for me, massive letters were etched directly into the grip. Not only my initials, but Sia’s own mark as the crafter were carved together.
It was evident she wanted everyone who saw the weapon to instantly realize whose hands had brought it into existence. I appreciated the sentiment behind the gesture, but the engraving was undeniably oversized.
‘Hold on a second.’
Shifting my focus while turning the weapon over, my eyes landed on a sculpted detail on the opposite side of the hilt.
[What do you think, Oppa?]
Positioned right there, rendered just as prominently and with astonishing precision alongside the letters, was a miniature likeness of Sia and myself standing together.
“Sia, isn’t this…”
[I knew it! You remembered! I sculpted that by referencing the picture we snapped during our very first date! Do you love it?]
That explained why the composition seemed so familiar. Honestly, I might have appreciated the sentiment far more if she had chosen any canvas other than an instrument of death. Discovering an adorable romantic carving on a weapon built for slaughter provoked an overwhelming wave of cognitive dissonance. Judging by the decorative embellishments alone, it looked more like a commemorative showpiece than a weapon meant for lethal combat.
“Yeah. It definitely feels like an unforgettable gift.”
Considering how much devotion she had poured into carving it with me in mind, rejecting it was entirely out of the question. Even if it felt slightly bizarre, her deep affection was unmistakably etched into every groove.
[I’m so happy to hear that! And Oppa, listen closely, because this next part is the real secret.]
A brief silence followed, after which she dropped a staggering revelation that completely clashed with her innocent, cheerful smile.
[That blade was actually forged from my very own bone!]
“…?”
The weapon slipped in my grip, nearly clattering onto the ground.
Surely my hearing had played tricks on me. That had to be it.
Rokan had assured me that my physical form was entirely repaired, but perhaps some residual damage from the backlash had compromised my auditory nerves.
“Sia… what did you just tell me?”
[It’s a blade carved straight from my own bone!]
Right. My ears were functioning perfectly after all.
‘…Her bone?’
I was already aware that Dragon Bone Swords were produced from the skeletal remains of dragons. Sia was, by all accounts, a dragon. Which meant Sia had literally excised part of her own skeleton to forge this weapon for me?
…Rather than salvaging it from some long-perished ancestor?
Come to think of it, Rokan had once offhandedly brought up a similar topic.
‘On rare occasions, eccentric individuals among our kin take up the peculiar pastime of whittling away at their own skeletal structure to craft armaments, so there is no reason to make a fuss over it.’
Back when he first stated that, I had merely written it off as one of those bizarre draconic customs that human logic could never grasp. I assumed it was entirely irrelevant to my life.
Yet now that the reality sat squarely in my own hands, the dynamic was completely overturned.
Admittedly, the blade I used previously had also originated from the remnants of some anonymous dragon, yet wielding it had never provoked a shred of inner turmoil. But swinging an instrument forged directly from my lover’s actual skeletal frame crossed a bizarre line…
What was I supposed to be, a raving lunatic?
[Oppa, I made sure both its cutting performance and its overall aesthetic were vastly superior to the original sword. If I was going to craft it, I wanted to deliver the absolute finest quality possible, so I gave it my absolute all. What’s the verdict? Are you thrilled?]
“It’s terrifying…”
The involuntary confession nearly escaped past my lips. Fortunately, I caught myself before uttering the fatal word, knowing what response was expected of me.
[Huh? What was that, Oppa?]
“I said I’m so thrilled that it’s… breathtaking. Truly, thank you. I promise to wield it with utmost care.”
When she pressed for clarification, I scrambled to paper over the slip. While my initial reaction to the craftsmanship was genuine admiration, uncovering the grim truth of its raw materials had made my thoughts grind to a dead halt.
Admitting that I felt creeped out now was completely impossible. In the end, this was simply what people referred to as a merciful lie.
Convinced by my smooth recovery, her gaze shimmered with pure delight upon believing I genuinely adored it.
[Oh! Oppa, in that case, wouldn’t it be amazing if we forged another one so we could have a matching couple set?]
“A matching… pair?”
What in the world was she planning next?
My thoughts spun wildly before the horrifying realization struck, prompting an urgent inquiry.
“Are you suggesting that you plan to craft an identical sword for yourself?”
[Yep!]
“And predictably, the raw material would have to be…”
[My own bone, obviously!]
Moments like this never failed to send a profound chill of disconnect through my spine.
[It’s not like we could use your bones to make it, right Oppa?]
…I had definitely just listened to an idea that defied all reason.
For the vast majority of our time together, Sia was nothing short of an endearing, sweet partner, only to abruptly drop casual statements that completely shattered human common sense. It was precisely during these surreal exchanges that the undeniable truth hit me: she was fundamentally a dragon, a creature wholly distinct from humankind.
[Even though my official classification is a spellcaster and I’ll probably never actually swing it in combat… having yet another coordinated couple item would still be wonderful, right Oppa?]
“…Naturally.”
At that point, I decided to abandon all attempts at rationalizing the situation.
[All right, I’ll see you very soon, Oppa! I need to get started on shaping my own sword right now. Hehe!]
Having thoroughly scrambled my sanity right up to the final second, Sia terminated the call.
My fingers remained frozen around the hilt of the blade she had literally carved out of her own skeletal tissue.
‘Good grief.’
Was my poker face holding together right now?
The mere thought of cleaving into foul fiends with a blade formed from Sia’s bone—watching their vile fluids seep deep into her remnants—made a violent shudder race down my back. Yet what alternative did I possess? Demanding she swap it for an ordinary steel sword was out of the question.
Perhaps time would allow me to grow numb to it, but achieving that mental state was certainly not happening anytime soon.
“It appears the token crafted by our dear Shasha met your approval.”
As I stood frozen, awkwardly clutching the weapon, Rokan strolled over and chimed in.
“Pardon? Ah, of course.”
“Excellent. Now that a superior weapon rests in your grip and your flesh has fully knit, the correct path forward should be glaringly obvious.”
‘Don’t tell me he’s thinking…’
“Why don’t we conduct a brief sparring session right here prior to your departure? It should loosen up your stiff limbs and allow you to acclimate to your new implement.”
Rokan wore that familiar, saintly warmth across his face, yet under the current circumstances, his expression resembled the mocking sneer of a fiendish devil.
“R-Right this second?”
“Indeed. There is no reason to delay. Did you not complain just yesterday about your frame growing restless from doing nothing but lying idle in a sickbed without fresh air?”
There was absolutely zero chance I had voiced such foolishness yesterday…
‘Wait. I actually did.’
Why did I have to run my mouth back then and dig my own grave?
“Hold on, my body still feels—”
“My word. What happened to your customary drive? Normally, you are practically brimming with fire, insisting that you must adapt to a dragon’s inherent might without wasting a single breath.”
While that was historically true, my psyche was completely unprepared to brandish a physical piece of my girlfriend’s anatomy.
Whether he saw through my turmoil or simply chose to ignore it, Rokan seized my wrist and pulled me directly toward the cavernous underground hall that had served as our battlefield.
Much later, the truth finally dawned on me: Rokan had seen straight through my terrified discomfort the very second I accepted the weapon fashioned from Sia’s bone. The sole purpose behind his sudden insistence on dragging me to the sparring grounds was painfully simple.
He merely wanted an excuse to toy with me.
…That realization provoked its own brand of profound cognitive dissonance.
Having entrusted the hand-carved blade to Rokan for delivery to Minjun, Sia was completely enveloped in a warm tide of satisfaction and euphoria.
‘If I knew Oppa would fall in love with it that much, I should have whittled one out for him ages ago.’
Minjun’s reaction had departed from his regular demeanor. Though words had failed him initially, his wide eyes had broadcasted an overwhelming degree of astonishment.
Had she scrutinized his expression just a fraction more closely, she would have detected that his shock stemmed from an entirely different origin than what she imagined. Yet, in a rare lapse of perception, Sia overlooked the clues entirely.
Instead, she firmly concluded that Minjun’s speechlessness meant his joy over the gift far exceeded ordinary bounds. People often spoke of being rendered speechless by immense delight, after all. That was the sole angle through which she evaluated his silence.
Granted, overwhelming sorrow could also render a person mute, but who on earth could ever feel despondent upon receiving a thoughtful token of affection?
Furthermore, ever since the notion of crafting a replacement blade for Minjun struck her, Sia had thrown herself tirelessly into the forging process, sacrificing sleep entirely aside from the brief moments she reached out to check on him. Having invested that immense ocean of dedication and meticulous care, assuming he would cherish it was only natural.
Yet her creative drive refused to halt there.
“Perhaps I should craft something additional as well?”
Now that she possessed the motivation to shape another matching piece identical to Minjun’s sword, an entirely new spark of ambition flared within her core: she wanted to fashion even more items.
While it didn’t hold the widespread notoriety of Dragon Bone Swords, dragons frequently adhered to a similar tradition of carving not merely weapons, but also personal adornments like pendants, bands, ear studs, and diverse trinkets directly out of their own skeletal framework.
Such items might carry less martial prominence compared to a Dragon Bone Sword, yet they would certainly serve as deeply sentimental offerings for Minjun. Sia reasoned that such talismans might even assist him in channeling draconic energy with greater stability, while offering additional coordinated accessories for their relationship.
“Hehe.”
Despite spending several consecutive nights without rest until her features carried noticeable fatigue, the sheer anticipation of forging yet another masterpiece sent the corners of her lips curling upward into an unrestrained smile.
Her mind painted a vivid picture of Minjun, not merely descending into hazardous dimensional gates, but walking through ordinary daily existence completely draped in ornaments whittled straight from her bones.
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