“You treasure it very much.” 

Sitting on a rock bathed in blue moonlight, the man sharpening his longsword quietly raised his head. A middle-aged man with calf-like big and clear eyes was smiling. 

The most powerful Sword Saint of all time—it was Muller, who was exploring an unexplored area that recently appeared due to the changed terrain. 

“It seems somewhat inferior for a swordsman of your quality to cherish it like that.” 

“It is a sword that a precious person gave to me as a gift. It might not be the strongest sword, but it is the most precious thing to me.”

Twilight—this was the name of the longsword Kraugel was repairing using Grid’s repair kit. It had the same appearance as Grid’s Twilight, but lacked a lot of spirit. It was the difference in material. It didn’t make sense to compare Kraugel’s Twilight, made by smelting the scales of a low-grade dragon, to Grid’s Twilight, made from the fang of an Old Dragon. 

Nevertheless, Kraugel felt no regrets. It was because the sword was made for him by the only person he could proudly introduce as a ‘friend’ to his mother. 

“It is an item that contains your tastes and ideas. It must be more satisfying than disappointing when using it.” 

“Do you think my personal opinion was involved a lot in the form of Twilight?” 

“Isn’t it a form that can fully handle your ever-changing swordsmanship? I think it is a perfect sword for a swordsman like you, who uses your...