Chapter Seventy-Four: Creville’s Birthday Gift

“Alright! Big brother, you’re still as formidable as ever.” Kervil, having witnessed his elder brother’s skill, realized it would be difficult to best him any time soon.

“Still as formidable? What do you mean?” Treyce feigned ignorance, as though he had nothing to do with it.

“Oh, come off it, brother. That’s the ‘Seventy-Six’ sword technique, isn’t it? Don’t bother denying it any longer!” Prince Kervil chuckled, pulling out his phone.

“I’ve looked into you, brother. ‘Seventy-Six’ and you are one and the same!” Seeing his younger brother so resolute, Treyce smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “As expected of my dear little brother. You guessed right.”

“No wonder!” Kervil seemed somewhat disgruntled. “With skill like yours, how could I possibly win?” While Kervil was still grumbling, Treyce took the opportunity to pick up the knife.

“Since I am indeed ‘Seventy-Six’, I’ll entrust this knife to you. I’m sorry, but this dagger is a keepsake from a friend; I can’t just hand it over to anyone.” Treyce slid the knife into its sheath and offered it to Kervil. “If it doesn’t suit you, feel free to choose another from the rack.”

“Oh?” At these words, Kervil’s eyes lit up. He moved closer to the weapon rack, examining each piece—the Tang saber from China, a Persian scimitar from the old empire, a Japanese katana from the Warring States era, and then—

“Brother, what’s this one?” Kervil pointed at a peculiar knife on the rack. Unlike most standard military blades, its edge curved inward.

“A Nepalese kukri. Before that nation was merged into the Eastern Union, this weapon was popular across the globe. Sadly, there aren’t many left now.” Treyce gave a wistful sigh. This particular piece was a fine specimen he had brought back from the last century, restored to its luster through careful maintenance.

“Then that’s it! I like its style.” Kervil reached out to take the knife, only to find a transparent block encasing it.

“I don’t blame you for not knowing—this transparent casing is to keep out oxygen. For preservation’s sake, I had no choice but to use it.” Donning gloves, Treyce placed his hand on the block. Unexpectedly, it “suddenly” sprang open (though it had been invisible), and he retrieved the knife.

“If it ever needs maintenance, seek out the head of the Welsh Society.” Treyce handed the knife to Kervil, letting him feel its heft. “It doesn’t have a proper sheath, so I had a former Nepalese craftsman make one from leather. I’ll give you that as well.” With that, Treyce produced the leather sheath and handed it to Kervil.

“Hey! Brother! What about my gift? You’ve been talking to Kervil all this time—aren’t you ignoring me?” Charlie, seeing how much attention Treyce lavished on Kervil, was beginning to get annoyed. Treyce just smiled and replied, “Don’t you love a good drink? I’ll bring you something tonight. For now, let’s keep playing!”