Chapter 1

Thanks to SpiritOfErebus for the editing. You can find him on FF.net.

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"Fall seven times, stand up eight. "-Japanese Proverb

3rd POV:

KLANG

The ringing of metals hitting upon each other and the sound of a forge at work echoed around the open grassland near the forest. You could hear the heavy hammer swing: from slow and steady beats that sounded like a church bell to swift and precise ones that descended upon the sword like relentless thunder.

From hours to days, the clang never stopped: the sound of a forge at work, of a man elevating his skills, and the sound of sheer stubbornness.

From now and then, the cry of determination hammered upon the swords. The howl of a man chased an impossible dream that no mortal could hope to reach. A blade that could cut through everything in existence: mortals, monsters, gods, and even concepts would not survive.

A mortal tried to create a Divine Artifact. A beautiful but hopeless dream.

However, dreams and hopes were what made humanity special. After all, there was once a blade forged by the hands of the fae. A sword made with man's hope and glory.

Excalibur, a divine construct, was the last noble phantasm that fell the White Titan of Tassili n'Ajjer, A Foreign Being that almost annihilated the world.

Now, a mortal, filled with dogged determination, dared to recreate the same feat. He devoted his entire life to making swords. The amount of blood, sweat, and tears had been pouring times and times again until he was too weak to lift his hammer.

KLANG

"Another fail." Senji Muramasa sighed.Standing up from his stool and walked out of the workshop that led toward a field of swords. He looked out on his sea of failures.

Hundreds of weapons from many cultures, with varied shapes and sizes, were laid upon the grassland. Blades that were superior to the masterpieces of many Smithing Familias lay unattended, wantonly stabbed into the dirt. Weapons that Adventurers would kill, backstab and betray one another to own were treated like mere mistakes. These were a chronicle of his attempts, a record of his perseverance. He then plunged the longsword into the ground and returned to his workshop to continue his work.

Inside the forge, the intense heat lashed out from the furnace, which increased the temperature steadily. Senji Muramasa didn't show a single sign of discomfort where any other blacksmith would have leaned backward. After all, the melting point of standard steel ingots was 1540 degrees Celcius and Muramasa had spent his entire life creating the perfect sword. His skin used to be singe from the heat.

Then, he sat down and threw the tamahagane steel(Jewel steel, Japan's traditional steel to make katana) ingot into the forge. Soon after, Senji started to pump hot air in the forge by a bellows with a smooth and steady hand.

As the ingot began to turn red from the intense heat, Senji grabbed it with a tong and put it on the anvil. With his hammer, he began to rain down strikes after strikes.

KLANG

Swings after swings, each with enough power to shake the ground delivered. Then, the blacksmith flattened the steel, paying no mind to the dilapidating anvil. Without exception, the impact of the smith's hammer strikes produced an ear-splitting sound that traveled for miles and miles outside of his forge, past the dense forest and causing an odd echo to ring out upon the fields and fields of swords.

As Muramasa hammered a new Katana, the noises of his work reached a campground of resting traders who slept after a long trip to deliver goods to Orario. As the sun was beginning to set, they began to set up the tents to rest. After all, night travel was taxing with large groups of people.

When they heard the sound of hammering, the hired Adventurers immediately searched for the source.

"The sound seems to come from the south. Let's make haste before the sunset." The navigator of a group of Adventurers said. "Yeah." his teammates reapplied unanimously.

Since the sound of forging was similar to the sound of fighting, they began to follow the sound and prevent any threats which may damage the goods.

As they reached the source where the sounds reverberated, they stopped by the sheer absurdity of the scene before their eyes. They saw a field of swords of excellent qualities surrounding a stone hut. But not just any ordinary blades you could find at a shop. No.

"What the hell is this!?" one Adventurer exclaimed in shock. He was confused by the mysterious sight. After all, he and his team have always passed through this trail to escort traders many times. However, this time…, they met a forest of blades.

"I've heard rumors about this place… a forest of blades." One adventurer said, awe evident in his voice. "A few months ago, this place was just an ordinary grassland. Soon, people began to hear the sound of forging, and a couple of swords appeared. Now? It's an army of them. "

KLANG

Their conversation stopped, and the Adventurers slowly approached the small hut where the sound of hammered originated. One by one, they stood upon a small wooden door.

"Should we knock? Or break through it?" an impulsive Adventurer asked aloud.

"Do you want to die? Let me remind you. Whoever created those swords is not a simple person. If you want to die, then die alone. Don't drag us in by your idiocy." The leader of the team immediately snapped back." And the last guy who tried to steal one of the blades woke up with a severe concussion. So don't try to be smart here."

"He or she could be a new god that just descended from Tenkai." the magic caster chimed in.

"Let's just knock and don't do anything too drastic. Maybe if we're polite about it, we could walk away safely with a dagger or a strong sword." the leader said firmly and began to knock on the door.

'KNOCK KNOCK'

After a while, the door opened, and a figure of a redhead young man appeared.

A young man with auburn hair and brown eyes stood before them. His figure seems imposing with a permanent scowl scanning them one by one.

"What the hell do you youngsters want? You guys are being too damn loud here." The man said, interrupting the group's train of thoughts.

"We're Adventurers from Freya's Familia currently escorting a trading caravan. And we want to investigate the newly appeared forest of weapons and the person behind it." The leader introduced themselves and asked the man before him calmly.

"Yeah. I made those blades. Any problems? Am I breaking any laws or something putting that stuff there?" Muramasa replied with no hesitation.

"No, sir! We just want to know who made these swords. Mister…" the man replied in panic as bullets of sweats appeared on his forehead.

"Senji. Senji Muramasa. By swords, do you mean those mistakes? Anything else, No? I'm going back to work. Remember to close the door when you leave. I don't want the air outside to cool off my damn forge." The redhead man, now Senji Muramasa, said as he returned to work.

'Failed attempts!? What the hell did this man just say?' the group thought in total shock. 'His failed attempts are better than what we bought from the Goibnu or Hephaestos Familia. What in the world is this!?'

"Ple...Please wait for a moment, Mr. Muramsa! Could you follow please go with us back to Orario City? After all, you could work with our Familia, and our Goddess, Freya-sama, will welcome you with open arms!"

"No thanks. I don't want to work with anyone." Muramasa replied, and he began to close the door in annoyance.

"No! Please! We still have one more question!" The leader shouted in panic as he tried to stop Muramasa." Can we have a few of your swords, please? If not, could we place an order?"

"No, and gets out before I beat the shit out of you. " Muramasa replied flatly.

The group of Adventurers immediately bolted.

A few days later, at the top of the Tower of Babel. A tall and muscular Boaz could be seen entering a room.

As he entered the room, He was greeted by a mesmerizing sight. A figure of a beautiful woman leaned against the large glass window in her room, all in her naked glory. A Goddess, not just any Goddess, this woman was the Freya, the Goddess of beauty and love.

"What is it, Ottar?" she asked the man in her melodious voice. The voice was so soft that it could charm anyone listening.

"Freya-sama. We just got information about the appearances of the Forest of Blades," the man, now named Ottar, answered. "Our Adventurers had a rendezvous with a man named Senji Muramasa. Who claimed to be the maker of those swords."

"A man, you said?" Freya asked in amusement.

"Ottar! I'm going to meet this man," she ordered.

"By your wish! Freya-sama."

Ottar nodded and exited Freya's room, leaving the goddess to her thoughts.

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Sorry for the cliffs. (Not really).

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