The Academy’s Weapon Replicator
chapter-6-1

The Branch in the Coffin, Mistletoe (3)

A sharp tearing sound. The sound was enough to leave everyone present frozen.

Divine punishment is coming...

Everyone couldn't speak carelessly due to the tension.

"Huh?"

"W-what is this?"

At that moment, the branch that was in the coffin 'flowed down'.

Literally, what had been a branch a little while ago was becoming a black liquid and pouring down, pulled by gravity.

"I told you. It's a fake."

Frondier reached out to the black water that was flowing down.

The surrounding nobles screamed.

"C-can you touch that,"

Frondier received the black water in his hand. The water ran down his hand like that.

But the moment Frondier clenched his fist,

"Huh?"

The water in his fist became metal again, and when released, it became a liquid again and flowed down.

"Oh, this is a strange guy."

"......Ah."

Then, as if something came to mind, Elodie opened her mouth.

"Viscoelasticity."

"Hmm? What?"

Frondier smiled in agreement with Elodie's words.

"That's right. This material is a viscoelastic metal."

"What is that?"

"Simply put, it's a property that becomes hard when force is applied, but becomes liquid again soon when left alone."

However, it is impossible for a metal to have this property in the first place.

Viscoelastic materials are soft even when they become solid, as they have their original elasticity and viscosity. It can't be as hard as metal.

It wasn't Mistilteinn, but there was no doubt that this jet-black water was a magical metal.

"Then what about what looked like Mistilteinn just now?"

"Someone must have infused mana using a spell to imitate its appearance. Mana is also a power. Perhaps this coffin served that purpose."

"Whew..."

Only then did the air of relief spread around. Since it wasn't holy water, there would be no divine punishment.

Ortel asked.

"But how did you know? That this thing is a fake."

"The elders thought the same. Mistilteinn is the weapon that killed the god Baldur. If this really were that branch, the god Baldur wouldn’t just stand by."

Frondier concealed the fact that he knew the original form of Mistilteinn.

Excessive truth kills persuasiveness.

"And I've never heard of Mistilteinn being stored in a coffin."

"But is that all?"

What Frondier had mentioned was common knowledge.

The chances of this branch being the real Mistilteinn were undoubtedly low.

However, no matter how slim the chances, one does not gamble with their life on the line.

A wrong gamble on divine punishment means a fate worse than death.

"As I said before, I am not afraid of divine punishment. And."

Frondier filled a glass bottle on the table with black liquid.

The liquid, which turns into metal when pressure is applied, was easier to contain in the bottle than expected.

Then, with a heavy look, Frondier said,

"To think this could replace my father's sword, I cannot bear it."

At those words, everyone fell silent for a moment.

But soon, a hearty laugh broke the silence.

"Ha-ha-ha! Completely fooled. Showing such an embarrassing side in front of these youngsters."

It was 'Zodiac' Heldre.

Despite his age, he burst into a hearty laugh and approached Frondier, placing a hand on his head.

"What did you say your name was?"

"It's Frondier."

"Frondier, yes, Frondier. I will not forget that name."

After saying this, Heldre looked at Enfer.

"Enfer, you have a son who is deeply filial."

"─I have nothing to add."

"You never had to put out Gram thanks to your son, shouldn't you give him a gift?"

Heldre's face, wrinkled with age, had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Enfer looked quite displeased.

"I was originally going to scold him sternly."

However, in that short moment, only Quinnie had something different in mind.

“What for. Didn’t you hear him? He said he wasn’t afraid of divine punishment. Nobody present here has the courage to say that. Maybe even the gods would want a bold young man like this.”

Enfer briefly closed his eyes.

As a result, it could be said that Frondier’s actions were right. He did not have to sell Gram, and he prevented further conflict between the families.

Obtaining Mistilteinn was not the only problem. In these times when attacks on families were becoming more common, there was no need to draw attention to oneself due to petty jealousy.

However,

“It’s too result-oriented to praise you, Frondier.”

“……Yes, I’m sorry, Father.”

“Your actions were very dangerous. Much more so than anything you have done before. Normally, I would hold you strictly accountable and educate you so that you won’t make such a mistake again. You should be grateful that I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Frondier stood still and listened.

Watching that gesture, completely devoid of childishness, Enfer sighed.

“However, considering the value of Gram, I can’t just let this go.”

“Ho?”

Ludwig attached himself to the conversation unnecessarily.

Enfer said,

“If there’s anything that you want, go ahead and tell me.”

Frondier’s eyes held surprise at his words. It’s an emotion that rarely appears in those emotionless eyes.

“Ah, well, then……”

Frondier briefly put his hand to his mouth as if in thought and then looked up.

“I would like to see Gram. The inside of its scabbard.”