The Sword Emperor Transmigrates

Unlike the common title of Master, which referred to a general expert, the term Meister specifically referred to an artisan. It was not a title that could be proven by wielding augmented sword energy like a Swordmaster might. Being recognized as a Meister required navigating an incredibly stringent process. This was especially true in the Jehoia family, where the artisan’s bloodline was as much a part of the craft as the craft itself. If the result didn’t meet their high standards, they found solace only in smashing it to pieces and starting anew.

Even if they did not quite reach the heights of their ancestor, the Dvergrs, the dwarves of the Jehoia family produced weapons that blacksmiths from beyond the empire could not dream of matching. The title of Meister was bestowed only upon those whose skills were judged and verified by these very dwarves.

Even the weapons hanging on these shelves are astonishing. The so-called legendary weapons of the Central Plains feel like mass-produced items from a rural smithy in comparison.

Thanks to his heightened perception granted by Dragon Eyes, Leonard could discern the quality of the weapons. The impurity levels and proportions were perfectly balanced, leaving only the essential properties needed for weaponry while maximizing performance. Every blade was nothing short of a national treasure.

“Looks like my creations have caught your eye! Is there anything you’d like to take with you?”

“They’re all exceptional, far beyond my ability to evaluate,” Leonard replied, loosening the sword from his belt and placing it on the workbench with a small smile. “But I don’t see anything here that surpasses this sword.”

“Arrogant brat! Your eyes seem to be working properly!”

Although Garneau raised his voice in apparent irritation, his mustache twitched upward, betraying his amusement.

If Leonard had been someone who settled for decent craftsmanship, he wouldn’t have been worth Garneau’s attention. However, not only did Leonard admire the weapons, but he also judged their value accurately—a fact Garneau couldn’t help but respect.

“Let me see… This piece is rather well-made. Not bad at all.”

Garneau pulled a monocle crafted with magic engineering from his pocket, fixing it in place before closely examining the sword. The hot-tempered demeanor he had displayed moments earlier vanished, replaced by an expression of utter concentration.

He didn’t just inspect it visually. He ran his hands over the blade, tapped it lightly with a small hammer, and closed his eyes to listen to the subtle vibrations resonating from the blade. Every movement demonstrated the meticulous care of a true artisan.

“This weapon boasts incredible durability, but it’s in rather poor condition. Your skill doesn’t seem so terrible, so what exactly have you been fighting?”

Leonard pondered for only a moment before answering honestly. “I defeated the Void Deity Aiolos and battled two apostles of the Outer God Nidhogg. The sword took quite a beating during those encounters.”

“Hah?” Garneau’s eyes grew serious for the first time.

While he wasn’t familiar with Aiolos, the name Nidhogg was well-known on this frontier. He was one of the most fearsome malevolent dragons in existence and was the one who’d corrupted the World Tree, Yggdrasil. To survive encountering not one, but two, of Nidhogg’s apostles and bring back a sword bearing the marks of those battles was no small feat.

I thought it was just an exaggerated rumor among fools, but this kid… he’s far more remarkable than I imagined. I like him.

Just as warriors proved their worth through feats and victories, the Meisters held their creations to the highest standards.

Take, for example, the legacy of the Dragon Slayer. Among the legendary Dragon Slayers of the past was Sigurd. Warriors revered him not just for defeating the terrifying transcendental being but also for the legendary blade Balmung that accompanied his legend.

For Meisters, forging a weapon that could transcend history and achieve mythic status was the ultimate aspiration.

This kid… perhaps?

Garneau felt a faint but undeniable spark of anticipation. Leonard, this young warrior, might just have the potential to elevate his craft to the realm of legends. That tiny ember of hope ignited Garneau’s enthusiasm to its peak.

Without hesitation, he reached for materials he would typically consider too costly to use.

With a soft rustle, Garneau sprinkled the sword with powdered Astral Fairy essence. This rare material, made from the wings of extinct faeries, seeped into the blade, mending the subtle cracks that had formed inside and out. Just a pinch of the powder was worth an astronomical sum, yet Garneau used it without reservation.

Then, he grabbed his hammer.

Claaang! Clang! Claang!

He struck the blade with a rhythmic sequence: a powerful strike, a shorter one, and then a moderate hit. Repeating this sequence over and over, he slowly restored the blackened blade to its former glory.

Even though the weapon had once held divine power, Garneau’s hammer relentlessly reshaped its form.

Watching the transformation, Leonard came to a crucial realization.

Garneau’s skill is incredible, but that hammer isn’t ordinary either. It’s not just repairing the sword; it’s suppressing the divine power and imbuing the sword with the hammer’s strength.

If the strikes had relied solely on physical strength and aura, the hammer and Garneau’s hands would have broken long before the sword changed. The hammer’s divine nature, equal in power to the blade, made this process possible.

“Hmm.”

After hammering for nearly half an hour, Garneau finally stopped. He inspected the blade carefully, running his hands over its surface before handing it back to Leonard.

“The framework wasn’t completely broken, so fixing it was easy. However, this repair won’t extend the sword’s lifespan. If you keep pushing it against formidable foes, it’ll eventually break.”

“Thank you for your care, Elder Garneau,” Leonard said earnestly.

“Don’t call me Meister or Elder. Just Garneau will do!” Garneau barked the words gruffly, then he hesitated as he looked into Leonard’s crimson eyes.

Unlike the elder Meisters who had handed their creations to Knight Commanders or Grand Magi, Garneau was still young by their standards and had never entrusted anyone with his ultimate work. Making this offer was a first for him.

“Guh.” After a moment of rubbing his temples in frustration, Garneau finally spoke. “Leonard, was it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you planning to keep wandering into danger and pushing your sword to its limits?”

“Yes,” Leonard answered without the slightest hesitation.

For him, a weapon’s true worth lay in battle. Until his final moments, he would never abandon that belief. It was a conviction unchanged from his past life as the Sword Emperor.

Hearing Leonard’s unwavering resolve, Garneau felt his own determination blaze hotter than ever. “Good! A life of peace doesn’t need legendary weapons. It’s hardship and trials that forge legends!”

His hesitation gone, Garneau’s eyes burned brightly as he declared, “If your sword ever breaks or if you find better materials, come find me! I, Garneau of Jehoia, swear on my name to forge you a weapon worthy of legend. Do you hear me?”

Though caught off guard by the unexpected offer, Leonard saw no reason to refuse. He nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good! For now, I’ll inspect the rest of your gear!” Still brimming with excitement, Garneau circled Leonard, carefully checking his equipment.

The Cardenas family generally provided high-quality supplies, so most knights rarely owned personalized gear. Leonard, too, continued using the armor and greaves he had received from the Order of the White Dragon, replacing damaged pieces as needed.

Garneau’s sharp eye seemed a little lacking this time. "Seriously? They call you the next head of the house, yet they make you rely on standard-issue gear! The people of the Cardenas family have their merits, but they’re way too passive when it comes to Order-made equipment! Even the smallest details can save a life!"

Of course, such words needed to be taken with a grain of salt. To achieve those minor improvements in the Cardenas family’s high-quality standard equipment would require selling off a noble estate or two just to cover the cost. For an organization managing a massive army, such inefficiencies simply weren’t feasible. Unless it was for an irreplaceable figure, like a commander, it was nearly impossible to justify investing in customized gear for knights at the Transcendence Tier.

“Your breastplate, pauldrons, and gauntlets just need a little adjustment to better fit your body—one or two days should suffice. What about spare weapons?”

“I carry a few swords for throwing or mid-range combat.”

"Those are standard-issue too! Pick something off the shelves here that suits your fighting style and replace them! And I sense an unusual aura from your left hand. What are you carrying?”

Leonard drew out Mimong, impressed by Garneau’s perceptiveness.

“This is a relic that Commander Wade gifted to me. It’s called Mimong.”

“…A creation of the ancestors. This is beyond my craft.” Clicking his tongue, Garneau handed Mimong back to Leonard.

Even the proud dwarf artisans of the Jehoia family had yet to surpass the relics crafted by their ancestors, the Dvergrs. Mimong was an extraordinary weapon, achieving unparalleled sharpness exceeding that of an Aura Blade without relying on divine powers or magic—an accomplishment born solely of superior craftsmanship. Recognizing its quality alone was enough to affirm Garneau’s status as a Meister.

Leonard stored Mimong back in his hand with the Heavenly Nature Sword Art and selected a few blades from the rack to store in his subspace pouch. Then, he turned to Heather, who had been quietly observing.

“Garneau, I have a request,” Leonard said.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Could you also pick out suitable equipment for Heather here? She’s a peer of mine, but she has already stepped into the Transcendence Tier and reached an unprecedented stage. I believe she’s more than qualified.”

“Hmm? You’re putting in a word for her?”

Finally noticing Heather’s presence, Garneau approached her, scanning her from head to toe before nodding slightly. Even with Leonard’s recommendation, if Garneau was not impressed, he would dismiss the matter outright. However, something about Heather seemed to pique his interest.

After observing the hardened calluses on her hands, Garneau remarked, “A dual-blade user, eh? Water and wind elements, perhaps? I’ve heard of a spirit swordswoman who rides a wolf—that must be you, huh?”

Caught off guard by the sudden encounter with a Jehoia elder, Heather nervously bowed. “Ah, h-hello!”

“Enough with the formalities. I’ll need to make your weapon from scratch, so next time, bring that wolf along. I’ll even craft some armor to keep it covered.”

“Wow! Thank you so much!”

“Hmph! Completely the opposite of this old soul over here.”

Heather’s pure and genuine demeanor seemed to win Garneau over, as he stroked his beard and coughed awkwardly to hide his reaction.

Suddenly, a voice spoke out, “Garneau, you’ve become soft. Could it be that even dwarves can’t escape the passage of time?”

At the sound of a voice from nowhere, Garneau spun around furiously and shouted. Leonard recognized the newcomer and also tensed up slightly, while Heather remained clueless.

Her ignorance was understandable. Standing before them was a woman who, save for a scar running across her face, looked to be about the same age as Leonard and Heather.

“What did you just say?! Soft? Me?! You wretched woman, showing up here means you’ve broken another weapon, haven’t you?!”

“My unique trait is simply too powerful. Even your finest creations can’t withstand it, Garneau.”

“For someone using a weapon made entirely of adamantium as a one-time-use item… you’ve got the nerve to talk! Do you even realize why every smith in the Jehoia family refuses your orders as soon as they hear your name?!”

Garneau exploded with rage, but the woman calmly walked up to him and seated herself on a chair across from him, completely unfazed.

She then turned her gaze to Leonard. “It’s been a while, Leonard. How have you been?”

She was a Demigod Tier knight wielding the Extermination unique trait and was second only to Wade in strength and rank. Audrey, the Black Dragon Commander, had arrived.