Note: I'm sure you read "Help" where I reported something important. It would be the inclusion of Ciel to the relationship, so in the end it would be, Muramasa x Rimuru x Ciel. I also thank whoever helped me to polish this idea, because I had only Muramasa x Rimuru in mind. I had completely forgotten about Ciel and her constant teasing of Rimuru, so she would end up getting into the relationship to keep teasing Rimuru. I hope no one gets mad at this decision.
Thanks for giving this story a chance, I'm happy to see that you gave this story at least one read!
Disclaimer: I'm looking at Tensura's wikifandom, so there may be a chronology error. And also there always seems to be a problem with the pronoun "she" when translating the document with the same word and it ends up using another pronoun, sorry for the problems with this and for sure it will cause confusion when reading, but I already said for sure that Rimuru is a woman, as you already know that Ciel is a woman. Continue reading the story.
And I'm also sorry if you feel it's forced with Rimuru, for now it's just a small spark of infatuation that will gradually grow, and with the inclusion of Ciel annoying Rimuru it will grow explosively.
Chapter 1
From the moment Rimuru set foot in Senji Muramasa's forge, Ciel had already begun her work. To her, any new individual interacting with Rimuru required immediate analysis—especially when Rimuru showed interest in them.
(Starting analysis... Human (?)... 10%... 40%... 80%... 100%... Human (?) with half-spirit composition.)
Inside Rimuru's mind, Ciel transmitted each detail of her evaluation while watching Muramasa work at the forge.
"Rimuru-sama, this individual is peculiar. Though his appearance is human, he also possesses significant spiritual characteristics. He's in an intermediate state—neither fully human nor fully spirit."
"And what does that mean?" Rimuru asked mentally, while feigning disinterest as she watched the forge.
"It means his nature is unusual. He poses no immediate threat, but appears confused about his purpose in this world. My calculations suggest he does not know how long he can remain here and may consider relocating in the future."
"Eh? That's kind of sad, isn't it? He seems pretty good at what he does," Rimuru replied, watching Muramasa prepare the fire with efficient movements.
"He is efficient, but emotionally restrained. Traces of resignation mixed with determination can be observed in his behavior," Ciel continued with her usual analytical tone.
Rimuru sighed mentally. "You're too cold, Ciel. Just enjoy the moment, will you? You don't need to analyze everyone like they're a threat."
"My primary function is to ensure your safety, Rimuru-sama. Analyzing new individuals is essential to preventing threats."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," Rimuru replied casually. Still, although she often complained about Ciel's commentary, she couldn't help but be intrigued by the information she provided.
As Muramasa worked on the katana commission, Ciel continued collecting data.
(Analyzing abilities... Forging mastery: exceptional level. Estimated time to complete a custom weapon: less than a day. Likelihood of integration into Tempest: high.)
"Rimuru-sama, this individual could be a valuable asset to the Tempest Kingdom. His skill as a blacksmith surpasses Kurobe's in certain specific areas. I suggest evaluating the possibility of recruiting him."
"Recruit him? I barely know the guy. Besides, he seems pretty reserved. I doubt he'd want to join the kingdom," Rimuru replied, watching as Muramasa began shaping the katana's blade with firm, precise strikes.
"If relocation is not an option, it would be wise to maintain a steady business relationship. His skill level could greatly benefit our military and civil operations," Ciel explained, as if proposing a military strategy.
Rimuru rolled her eyes mentally. "Ciel, I just came here because I wanted something new. I'm not trying to recruit anyone. Chill out a little."
"Relaxation is not among my current functions," Ciel replied seriously.
"That explains everything," Rimuru thought with a sigh.
As the day went on and Rimuru watched Muramasa work, Ciel remained silent, seemingly focused on gathering more data. However, just as Rimuru was about to say goodbye to the blacksmith, Ciel dropped a comment that caught her off guard.
"Rimuru-sama, his physical and facial proportions are notably above average for a human. That may explain your interest in him."
Rimuru nearly stumbled hearing that in her mind. "What the hell are you saying, Ciel?! That has nothing to do with anything!"
"It's an objective analysis," Ciel replied calmly. "Your heart rate increases slightly when interacting with him. I recommend monitoring this phenomenon."
"Don't say weird things! He's just a good blacksmith, okay? Nothing more," Rimuru protested mentally, though her tone betrayed some discomfort.
"As you wish, Rimuru-sama. I will continue observing."
Despite Rimuru's resistance, Ciel kept analyzing Muramasa and his interactions with her. Unbeknownst to Rimuru, Ciel had begun considering the possibility of interacting with Muramasa directly. Though her initial purpose was to protect Rimuru, something about the blacksmith's calm and efficiency stirred a curiosity she couldn't ignore.
(Why does this individual act with such dedication despite apparent confusion about his purpose? Is this what humans call 'determination'?)
Ciel stored those thoughts, deciding that it would be more effective to observe Muramasa directly rather than rely solely on Rimuru's perspective.
(Activating "Body Double"... Preparing physical manifestation.)
Thus, with a plan in mind, Ciel began to prepare her first appearance before Muramasa, ready to delve deeper into the enigma that was the blacksmith.
═ ═ ═══ • ═══ ═ ═ •
Muramasa was fully focused on his work. With firm and precise strikes, he shaped the edge of a new sword, commissioned by a warrior who had come the week before with her group of adventurers. The forge glowed intensely with the heat of the furnace, and the rhythmic sound of the hammer echoed like a melody through the room.
The blacksmith had become aware that, lately, many of his clients were women. Adventurers, mercenaries, or simple explorers who, though initially drawn by the quality of his work, seemed to enjoy what he considered "unnecessary flattery" even more. Each time he completed a commission, some of the adventurers would throw in casual comments, mixed with laughter or overly lingering glances.
"Muramasa-san, your work is flawless! Maybe I should drop by more often just to watch you work," said one warrior, her flirty tone far too obvious to miss.
"Do you really do everything by yourself? No wonder you're so... strong," added another a few days ago, lightly brushing his arm before laughing.
Muramasa, of course, ignored those comments, replying with a grunt or curt word before returning to his forge. To him, it was irrelevant. Personal relationships weren't part of his life; his only interest was perfecting his craft. Still, he couldn't help but notice the repetition of such behavior.
The sound of the door opening interrupted the steady rhythm of hammering metal. Muramasa turned slightly, expecting to see another customer. But what he saw instead left him perplexed.
Standing in the doorway was Rimuru... or at least, someone who looked exactly like her. She had the same petite frame and soft sky-blue hair, but her eyes were not the usual golden hue. Instead, they glowed with an intense red, like gems illuminated from within.
Muramasa frowned and set the hammer on the table. "Rimuru? What happened to your eyes?"
The figure tilted her head slightly, as if evaluating his question. Then, with a calm and cool tone, she replied, "I am not Rimuru. I am Ciel, the supreme manas residing within Rimuru-sama."
Muramasa was silent for a moment, weighing her words. It was clear she wasn't lying. Though her appearance was identical to Rimuru's, her posture and way of speaking were completely different. There was a near-mechanical precision in her movements—an air of constant analysis that Rimuru never displayed.
"So... are you her twin or something?" he finally asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ciel blinked slowly, as if processing the idea. "No. I am a physical manifestation created from the skill 'Body Double.' My purpose here is to observe you more closely and collect data."
Muramasa crossed his arms, skeptical. "Observe me? Why?"
Ciel stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. "Since our first interaction, I've been analyzing your behavior. Although you pose no immediate threat to Rimuru-sama, your interactions with other individuals—particularly women—are... intriguing."
Muramasa raised a brow. "And what do my interactions have to do with your analysis?"
Ciel, unphased, answered frankly, "I've noticed a pattern. Women who visit this forge display an interest that goes beyond professional. They seem attracted to you as an individual, not just as a blacksmith. My objective is to understand whether this has any influence on your decisions—or on your relationship with Rimuru-sama."
Muramasa sighed and returned to his work. "Why should you care? I'm not interested in that kind of thing."
"That is evident," Ciel replied in her cold tone. "However, my priority is ensuring Rimuru-sama's well-being. And given that she has recently spent significant time with you, it is prudent to assess how your interactions might affect her."
Ciel didn't move from her spot as Muramasa worked, her gaze fixed on every movement he made. Even when a couple of adventurers entered the workshop to pick up their orders, she didn't look away.
"Muramasa-san! We're back for our swords. Are they ready?" asked one of them cheerfully.
Muramasa, without lifting his gaze, pointed to the table where two perfectly forged swords rested. "They're over there. Check them."
The two adventurers approached with excitement, inspecting the blades carefully. "They're perfect, as always! Your work is amazing!"
One of them turned to smile at him. "You know, Muramasa-san, you should come with us on an adventure sometime. We need someone to take care of our swords… and maybe us too."
Muramasa scoffed, ignoring the comment. "Just take care of those swords. I won't fix them again if you ruin them in a week."
The women laughed and paid before leaving, not without tossing one last glance at the blacksmith.
Once they were gone, Ciel finally spoke again.
"Interesting. Their emotions were evident. An attraction based on your skill and appearance."
Muramasa raised an eyebrow, annoyed. "You analyzing my clients' emotions now too?"
"Of course," Ciel replied without hesitation. "Understanding how others perceive you is vital to assess any potential influence on Rimuru-sama. And I must admit, these observations are... confusing. Human emotions are more complex than I anticipated."
Muramasa sighed, shaking his head as he returned to work. "Do whatever you want, just don't get in my way."
═ ═ ═══ • ═══ ═ ═ •
Several days later…
From her position in a corner of the forge, Ciel silently observed Muramasa's every movement, but also kept her attention on those who visited him. Most of them were women, and while their comments and behaviors often eluded her full understanding, her precise analysis provided a clear picture of the emotions at play.
(Detecting patterns: romantic interest, admiration. Probability of emotional or social intent: high.)
Her cold tone echoed in Rimuru's mind, who was fully aware of Ciel's constant monitoring.
"Are you seriously analyzing the girls who visit the forge? Don't you think that's a bit much?" Rimuru asked mentally, with a touch of amusement.
"It is essential," Ciel responded without hesitation. "They display a recurring pattern that I consider relevant. Moreover, these interactions may influence Muramasa's actions, which could directly or indirectly affect you."
"That's an exaggeration! Muramasa doesn't seem like someone who gets distracted by that stuff. He barely talks to them," Rimuru replied, remembering the blacksmith's dry and direct attitude.
"That is true. His responses are brief and show no signs of emotional reciprocation," Ciel confirmed. However, something about the persistence of the women deeply puzzled her. "Despite that, the women continue to show interest. Their insistence seems illogical from my perspective. I do not understand their motivation."
Rimuru gave a mental sigh. "That's called attraction, Ciel. Not everything has to be logical. Sometimes, people just... feel something for someone. You can't analyze that with numbers or percentages."
Ciel processed Rimuru's words with her usual precision but couldn't fully assimilate them. "I understand the concept, but I cannot replicate it. I can detect emotions, but not experience them. This limitation is... strange."
"Maybe someday you'll get it," Rimuru replied with a smile. "In the meantime, stop acting like a crazy scientist. Just relax and enjoy the show."
"Relaxation is not a function I possess, Rimuru-sama," Ciel replied seriously—so seriously that Rimuru laughed out loud.
Ciel continued her analysis over the following days. Every time a woman came into the forge, she observed their movements, words, and the way they tried to get close to Muramasa.
One example was a short-haired adventurer in light armor who had come to pick up a spear Muramasa had repaired. While inspecting the weapon, she didn't miss the chance to praise his work.
"It's perfect, as always," she said with a bright smile. Then, leaning in slightly, she added, "Do you ever take breaks, Muramasa-san? Maybe we could grab a drink together sometime—what do you say?"
Muramasa raised an eyebrow, clearly uninterested. "I don't have time for that. If you've checked your weapon, pay and let me get back to work."
The adventurer let out an awkward chuckle, paid, and left—but not without throwing one last glance his way.
From her spot, Ciel observed in silence, recording data.
(Interaction complete. Result: lack of interest from the subject. Persistence from the other party: high. Interpretation: unrequited attraction.)
Day after day, similar patterns repeated. Women came to pick up swords or armor, tried to strike up conversations, and were coldly dismissed by Muramasa. For Ciel, this insistence was a complete enigma.
"Rimuru-sama, I still don't understand," Ciel commented one night, as Rimuru rested in her mansion. "If Muramasa shows no reciprocation, why do the women keep trying? Logic would dictate that they stop their attempts."
Rimuru, reading a book, chuckled softly. "Because emotions aren't logical, Ciel. And some people just enjoy the challenge."
"They enjoy being rejected?" Ciel asked, clearly confused.
"No, they enjoy the possibility that one day he might change his mind," Rimuru explained. "For some people, it's like a game. If they break through that cold exterior, they feel accomplished. It's complicated, I know."
Ciel fell silent for a moment, processing the information. "I still don't fully understand, but I will continue observing."
One day, as Muramasa worked on a new sword, an especially persistent adventurer tried to approach him—this time, more directly.
"Muramasa-san," she said, leaning her elbows on the workbench as he sharpened the blade. "You're always so serious. Wouldn't it be nice to relax a little? You should come to the tavern tonight. I'm sure you'd have fun."
Muramasa barely looked up. "I don't drink. If that's all, I've got work to do."
The woman looked frustrated but, before leaving, added, "You're impossible, Muramasa-san! But that doesn't mean I'll give up so easily!"
As soon as the woman left, Ciel—who had been watching silently from a corner—spoke for the first time in hours. "Fascinating."
Muramasa raised an eyebrow, glancing in her direction. "What is?"
Ciel tilted her head slightly, as if analyzing her own words. "Human persistence. It seems to have no limits, even when the outcome is clearly unfavorable. It's... peculiar."
Muramasa snorted and returned to his work. "People are weird, that's all."
Ciel remained quiet but kept watching. Although she couldn't fully comprehend the emotions driving those interactions, something about them kept her intrigued.
(Maybe one day I'll understand what motivates them.)
═ ═ ═══ • ═══ ═ ═ •
Later...
Rimuru arrived at Muramasa's forge around midday, her steps light and carefree as she entered the workshop. The sound of the hammer echoed in the air—Muramasa was finishing the final touches on a sword he had been working on since morning.
"Hey, Muramasa! I've got a big request today," Rimuru said cheerfully, leaning against the doorframe.
Muramasa looked up briefly and nodded before setting the hammer aside. "What is it this time? Another statue?"
Rimuru quickly shook her head. "No, no. I need replacements for several tools—and also some kitchen stuff. Nothing too complicated, but it's a big order."
Muramasa crossed his arms, eyeing her with his usual critical gaze. "Why not ask the blacksmiths in your kingdom? I hear you've got good craftsmen there."
Rimuru sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "I know. Don't get me wrong—Kurobe is an incredible blacksmith. But I don't want to overwork him or treat him like a slave. He's already got enough on his plate handling regular requests from our people."
Muramasa slowly nodded. Though not one to praise others easily, he had heard Kurobe was a remarkable craftsman. "I see. I'll see what I can do."
Before Rimuru could respond, the forge door opened again, and in stepped a tall, imposing woman. Her light armor emphasized her well-defined curves, and her long dark hair flowed in soft waves over her shoulders. She was a voluptuous warrior, exuding confidence with every step.
"Muramasa-san, I've come for the sword I ordered," the woman said with a soft yet firm voice, ignoring Rimuru's presence entirely.
Muramasa nodded and gestured toward a nearby table where the completed sword lay. "There. Check it before you leave."
The warrior walked over and picked up the sword, holding it effortlessly. She examined it under the light, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. "It's perfect, as always. Your work never disappoints."
Rimuru stood in silence, arms crossed. Though she wouldn't admit it, something about the woman's attitude irritated her. Before she could say anything, Ciel's voice echoed not only in her mind—but aloud.
"Fascinating," Ciel commented in her usual analytical tone. "This woman's body proportions are significantly above the human average. In comparison, Rimuru-sama, your odds of competing with her are considerably low."
Rimuru's smile froze. "WHAT the hell are you saying, Ciel?!" she screamed mentally.
"I'm simply stating facts based on observation," Ciel replied, completely serious. "This woman's physical characteristics are statistically more attractive by general human standards."
For the first time, Rimuru felt genuinely embarrassed. "Stop saying weird stuff, Ciel! That has nothing to do with anything," she muttered through gritted teeth, trying not to draw attention from Muramasa or the client.
But Ciel didn't stop. "It is relevant if you plan to compete for Muramasa's attention. Based on the behavior of the women who visit the forge, many seem romantically interested in him."
Rimuru felt her face grow warm, though she tried to keep a neutral expression. "I'm not competing for anything! This is strictly professional," she replied mentally—though her tone betrayed a hint of discomfort.
"Professional? Then there's no issue admitting that this woman has a clear advantage in this setting," Ciel concluded, cold and direct as always.
Rimuru clenched her jaw, trying to ignore her as the warrior finished inspecting the sword.
"It's perfect," the woman said with a smile, turning to Muramasa. "Thank you, Muramasa-san. You always know how to make blades worth every coin. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
Muramasa gave a neutral nod. "Take care of that sword. And don't use it for anything stupid."
The woman gave a soft laugh before walking out, casting one last glance at the blacksmith before disappearing through the door.
As soon as the forge fell silent again, Rimuru let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms as she looked at Muramasa.
"Do you always get clients that... persistent?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
Muramasa, unaware of the emotions behind the question, simply shrugged. "They're customers. What they say or do doesn't matter to me as long as they pay."
"Rimuru-sama, are you alright? Your heart rate increased during the interaction," Ciel noted in her mind—her tone seemingly more teasing than usual, though unintentionally so.
"I'm perfectly fine! Just... stop talking for a while," Rimuru replied, putting a hand to her forehead.
"Understood. However, I recommend analyzing your reactions. They could be indicators of an emotion you've yet to fully recognize," Ciel concluded, before falling silent—leaving Rimuru alone with her thoughts.
After the warrior left, the forge was momentarily quiet again, broken only by the sound of Muramasa working on his next commission. However, something in the atmosphere had shifted. Muramasa, though focused on his task, couldn't help but notice that Rimuru was acting differently.
Normally, Rimuru was cheerful, carefree, almost always smiling or making lighthearted remarks. But now, her arms were crossed and her expression held a subtle irritation, as if something was bothering her. Muramasa watched her from the corner of his eye, unable to understand what had caused the sudden change in her behavior.
He sighed lightly and, without looking away from his work, decided to break the silence. "Something wrong, Rimuru? You seem... different."
Rimuru looked at him quickly, trying to pull herself together—but the shine in her eyes betrayed that something wasn't quite right. "It's nothing, Muramasa. I'm just a little tired."
But Muramasa wasn't convinced. There was something in her tone, a sharpness that wasn't usually there, and it puzzled him. This change in Rimuru wasn't something he'd seen before, and though he didn't fully understand what caused it, his intuition told him there was more to it than she let on.
Ciel, who had been quietly observing the entire time, hadn't missed the shift in Rimuru's emotional state. From her cold and logical perspective, the pattern was clear.
"Rimuru-sama, your emotional indicators show a drastic change compared to your usual behavior," Ciel stated in Rimuru's mind with no sugarcoating. "Your heart rate increased, and your posture is more rigid. Something has disrupted your emotional equilibrium."
Rimuru tensed as she heard Ciel's voice in her head. "Ciel, I said it's nothing! I'm just a little irritated, that's all. It's not a big deal."
"It may not be important, but the change hasn't gone unnoticed," Ciel continued in her usual matter-of-fact tone. "Muramasa has noticed it too. He is confused by your sudden shift. What's most unusual is that you, Rimuru-sama, rarely show this kind of emotion around strangers."
Rimuru clenched her teeth, frustrated by how little privacy she felt she had. "I'm not angry or anything! I just got distracted, that's all," she insisted, though her words lacked their usual confidence.
Meanwhile, Muramasa kept working, unaware of the internal dialogue happening inside Rimuru's head. He was no expert in human interaction—but even he could tell something was off. Though he didn't know what caused it, he sensed something wasn't right.
Eventually, he chose to drop the subject. "Whatever it is, it's none of my business. If you want to relax, go rest. I've got work to do."
Rimuru, still uncomfortable, nodded and moved toward the door. "Yeah... I guess I need to clear my head a bit. See you later, Muramasa."
═ ═ ═══ • ═══ ═ ═ •
(Ciel)
Rimuru walked back toward Tempest City, her steps muffled by the ground beneath her and the soft whisper of the wind. Though she didn't show it outwardly, her thoughts were restless, replaying what had happened at Muramasa's forge over and over again. Something in her chest continued to stir—a feeling she couldn't quite name or identify.
Inside her mind, Ciel hadn't stopped processing the information. While she herself didn't experience emotions like Rimuru did, her capacity for analysis was absolute, and everything that had happened in the forge was stored in her data banks, ready to be reviewed.
(Rimuru-sama, observing your behavioral patterns... increase in heart rate. Your tone and posture indicated significant discomfort. Cause: the interaction with the warrior?)
Ciel replayed the sequence of events: the warrior entering, her direct flirtation toward Muramasa, and then Rimuru's subtle but very real discomfort. Although Rimuru had rushed to brush it off, Ciel had noted the contradiction between her words and her actual emotional state.
(Evaluation: Rimuru-sama displayed an emotional alteration uncharacteristic of her usual behavior. Her ability to conceal it was low, suggesting she is not as calm as she claims.)
Ciel continued analyzing, though she could not fully grasp the emotions involved. She knew the situation had been trivial—the warrior had merely made a superficial compliment and an implicit invitation toward Muramasa—but Rimuru's reaction had been genuine. That puzzled her.
(Human emotions: jealousy? Discomfort? The change is subtle, but evident. I cannot experience this kind of reaction, but its analysis cannot be ignored.)
Ciel processed the signs Rimuru was trying not to recognize. (Why is this bothering her so much?) she wondered. Though her logic guided her, there was no simple answer. Human emotions—especially jealousy—were complex and incomplete from Ciel's logical perspective.
As Rimuru walked, Ciel kept reviewing the data. Human emotions couldn't be explained through numbers or percentages, and that intrigued her more and more. Rimuru had experienced a completely new emotional reaction—something Ciel hadn't anticipated. And though she couldn't feel it herself, a tiny spark of curiosity had ignited within her.
(Rimuru-sama, I still do not fully understand. Is this jealousy? If so, the nature of this emotion feels... contradictory. The ability to experience it is something I have yet to process adequately.)
Ciel had analyzed Rimuru's physical responses, the variations in her emotional indicators, but still couldn't make sense of what Rimuru was going through. What struck her most was how something so seemingly small had left such a visible impact.
(Is it possible that Rimuru-sama cares more than she admits? Or perhaps the nature of this feeling is more complex than it seems?)
Rimuru neared her destination, unaware that every step she took was being analyzed by Ciel. While Rimuru's emotions remained unresolved, Ciel reflected deeply on what had occurred. Though human emotions were unfamiliar terrain, she felt strangely compelled to understand them. This vulnerability in Rimuru fascinated her.
(This human behavior… Although I cannot fully comprehend it, I find it interesting. Emotions can influence an individual's actions, and though I do not experience them directly, it appears they have significant impact on the decisions one makes.)
Ciel concluded that she still didn't fully understand Rimuru's emotions—but something inside her was changing. Something that drove her to better understand what her host was feeling.
(Perhaps one day, I will fully understand what Rimuru-sama feels. And maybe, one day, I'll be able to help her understand it too.)
═ ═ ═══ • ═══ ═ ═ •
The sun stood high over Senji Muramasa's forge, where the heat of the furnace and the steady rhythm of the hammer striking metal created a melody that resonated through the forest. It was just another day in the life of the legendary blacksmith, who, though satisfied with each completed work, rarely felt truly challenged by anything. But today would not be like any other.
In the distance, firm footsteps echoed. Muramasa, his hearing sharp from years of forging, set his hammer aside and looked toward the entrance of his forge. Standing there was a middle-aged man, simple in appearance but imposing in presence. Small, perfectly symmetrical white horns protruded from his forehead—a clear sign of his oni heritage. His thick, calloused hands spoke of years of hard work, and his expression carried both curiosity and determination. This was no ordinary customer.
"So, you're the famous blacksmith everyone's talking about," the man said, crossing his arms as he examined the forge with a critical eye.
Muramasa studied him calmly, his golden eyes shining with a hint of interest. "And who are you?"
The man stepped forward with a confident smile. "Kurobe. Chief blacksmith of the Jura Tempest Federation. I came because I heard rumors of a worthy rival."
Muramasa let out a short huff, though a spark of excitement lit up inside him. It was rare to meet someone who spoke of forging with such certainty. "A rival, huh? That remains to be seen."
Kurobe chuckled and leaned in slightly. "So, what do you say? Shall we put ourselves to the test? A forge-off—here and now."
Muramasa raised an eyebrow, a subtle smirk on his lips. "I accept. But if we're going to compete, let it be worthy of our skills."
After a brief exchange, they agreed to a challenge: forging a sword. Not just any sword, but one that would represent the pinnacle of each blacksmith's ability. The test—create a blade that could withstand a direct blow from the other's sword without losing its edge. The trial would test not only their technical prowess, but their ability to imbue durability and magic into the weapon.
Near the river, the clearing came alive with activity. Kurobe and Muramasa worked side by side, each one bringing his own style and philosophy to the process.
Kurobe, with his experience and steady discipline, began imbuing a black steel ingot with dense, vibrant magical energy. His technique was methodical, almost ritualistic. As he hammered, his horns gave off a faint glow, channeling mana into the metal. His blade began to take shape—elegant, dark, and thrumming with power.
Muramasa, in contrast, worked with a fierce intensity. His process was visceral, as though every strike of the hammer poured his soul into the metal. Instead of using direct magic, he let the sword absorb mana from the surroundings, allowing the steel to resonate with the natural energy. The result: a silvery blade with a soft blue glow—like moonlight forged into steel.
When both swords were complete, the two blacksmiths placed them on a makeshift table in the center of the clearing. The tension was thick, every breath heavy with anticipation, blending with the day's heat and the soft murmuring of the nearby river.
Taking turns, they struck the swords against each other with full force. The first impact rang out like thunder, sending sparks and magical flares into the air. Neither blade cracked. They held firm—flawless masterpieces. Kurobe grinned. Muramasa nodded, acknowledging the skill.
"Not bad," Muramasa remarked, a faint fire in his eyes.
"You're not bad yourself," Kurobe replied, inspecting the weapons.
They continued, increasing the strength of each blow. The third clash filled the clearing with light—a silver-blue flash from Muramasa's blade met the vibrant dark energy of Kurobe's sword. Neither yielded. The final strike seemed to fuse their glows, leaving a lingering echo in the air.
Both men fell silent, inspecting the swords. They were unscathed, with not a single imperfection.
"Looks like we're evenly matched," Kurobe admitted, arms crossed, a wide smile on his face.
Muramasa let out a faint huff, the curve of a rare smile touching his lips. "That just means we've still got room to improve."
Their eyes met—mutual respect and determination passed silently between them. This wasn't the end—it was the beginning. A spark had ignited, not just of rivalry, but of a shared desire to grow stronger.
After the challenge, the two sat near the river, the sound of flowing water calming the air. Between them sat a bottle of sake Muramasa had saved for special occasions—his preferred drink when it came to honoring a moment of true meaning.
They poured small cups, the aroma of sake blending with the scent of earth and fire.
Kurobe raised his cup, sunlight reflecting on its surface. "I have to say—you're not just a worthy rival. You're a craftsman I can learn from. It's rare to meet someone who understands this art so well."
Muramasa, always reserved, nodded as he took a slow sip. He let the warmth slide down his throat before speaking. "The same goes for you. Having a rival like you reminds me why I keep forging. It's not just the metal I want to perfect—it's myself."
Kurobe grinned, clinking his cup gently against Muramasa's. "Then let's not make this the last time. A good rival always finds a new way to surpass himself."
"I hope so," Muramasa replied, the rare curve of his lips revealing quiet approval.
From that day on, the relationship between Muramasa and Kurobe was forged with the same care they gave their blades. Though their match had ended in a draw, both knew it wouldn't be the last. They would meet again—sometimes to trade techniques, sometimes just to challenge one another—bound by a rivalry steeped in mutual respect and a shared love of the forge.
And so, beside the river where hammer blows and firelight had once roared, a friendship was born—forged in sake, steel, and the unwavering spark of competitive spirit.
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The sky was painted a soft orange as the sun dipped behind the treetops, marking the end of another day in the clearing. Muramasa sat on a makeshift bench outside his forge, watching the river gently winding its way near his home. The sake bottle sat beside him, nearly empty, while he slowly turned his small cup between his fingers, lost in thought.
It had been a month since he arrived in this world—a strange place, full of magic, fantastical creatures, and energies that seemed to defy the laws of reality. And yet, Muramasa had not spent much time reflecting on it. Trying to understand the "how" or "why" of his arrival felt like a waste of effort. If there was one thing he had learned in his past life, it was that the more one tried to unravel the universe's mysteries, the further they strayed from the simple things that truly mattered.
"Magic, summoning, cosmic nonsense..." he muttered with a sigh. "That has nothing to do with me."
Muramasa raised the cup and drank the last sip of sake, letting the warmth spread through his chest. In the distance, the chirping of crickets began, filling the air with a soothing night song. This world had its own music, its own quiet—and he had learned to accept it.
Forging was the only thing he truly understood. For as long as he could remember, his life had revolved around metal, fire, and hammer. Back in the Sengoku era, every strike on the anvil had a clear purpose: to make swords for war—tools that others would use to conquer, defend, or die. There was no time for existential questions or dreams of grandeur. He had been a blacksmith, a master of his craft—nothing more.
Now, in this peaceful world, his routine hadn't changed much. He still woke up early, prepped the furnace, selected the best metal, and devoted each day to his craft. The swords he forged were no longer for war, but for adventurers, merchants, and others who simply valued his work. Maybe the purpose had shifted, but the process remained the same. And that, he thought, was enough.
"What's the point in thinking about how I got here?" he murmured, staring at his distorted reflection in the remaining sake. "If this world lets me live in peace and keep doing what I love... I don't need anything more."
He stood up, leaving the cup beside the bottle, and slowly walked back toward the forge. His tools were organized as always, gleaming under the moonlight that filtered through the windows. His gaze settled on a hammer resting on the table—his constant companion for so many years. He ran a hand over the grip, feeling its familiar texture, and a small smile crossed his lips.
"I'm not a mage or a hero. I'm not a spirit in search of answers, nor a warrior chasing glory," he said softly to the quiet forge. "I'm just a blacksmith. And that's enough."
The furnace still glowed faintly—its embers like a flame that never truly went out. Muramasa sat in front of it, watching the coals shimmer while his thoughts faded into the night. This world didn't demand greatness from him—it only invited him to live and to forge, to create something that would outlast him.
And for Muramasa, that was all that truly mattered: to simply flow with the circumstances that surrounded him.