“Don’t you have a last name, Young Master Ayden?” dared to ask A-Hui with an innocent smile.
His comrades made big eyes at him, but the man shook his head with a soft smile.
“No, I have no family name. Where I come from, only those who are descended from good bloodlines or who join a noble family have one, and... ‘Young Master’?” the redhead laughed.
“It’s normal!” A-Hui was surprised. “This is the least of courtesies.”
“I see. No title either,” the redhead said with a smile. “Just ‘Ayden’.”
“Oh,” responded A-Hui, frowning slightly as he wouldn’t dare to accept this request just like this. “Is this the reason you name your father and your country?”
“Yes.”
Ayden smiled faintly. His expression became more pensive.
“Do not worry, I’m sure our clan leader will help you,” A-Hui assured when he saw his expression, his face immediately showing his concern.
Ayden let out an amused throat sound, and he offered Lu Dehui an affectionate pat on the shoulder. Even though they had been able to explain briefly, he had not told them the entire story and had preferred to keep to himself that it was a dragon’s egg responsible for his current situation. Just as he had not tried to disabuse them of the possibility of a misunderstanding about his otherworldly origins. Simple prudence. Finally, after some thought, A-Hui had invited him to meet their Grand Master, the clan leader, against A-Feng’s advice.
Lu Dehui was a composed and friendly young man. His face with its delicate features was sympathetic and still had the sweetness of childhood, always filled with a smile meant to be reassuring. A high ponytail kept his long black mane that almost reached his waist. Ayden had never seen such silky hair, and he was confident that the women of the court would have killed to have such a head of hair. Even the light fringes he wore seemed polite — yes, polite — never impeding his beautiful dark eyes.
Lu Xiaofeng was a little taller than his elder and was built more strongly. Despite his wrinkle-free outfit and his hair pulled perfectly back in a low ponytail, there was something more nervous about him, where Lu Dehui was more peaceful. His features were square, his face more robust, and his eyes sharper. The young man was visibly taciturn and much less formal than Lu Dehui, but he was curious and followed the conversation carefully, despite his dark face.
“And so, this Qi…? Is that what I’m feeling all over here?”
A-Hui wore a big smile. “Yes! The Qi inhabits and forms everything, both the world and ourselves. To a greater or lesser extent, each of us has it, and it naturally endowed some places with powerful Qi. Some objects also hold Qi, thus becoming artefacts.”
“For example…?”
A-Hui made a pensive throat sound before A-Feng clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Your weapon absorbs Qi, right?”
Ayden looked over his shoulder at his two-handed sword. Lu Xiaofeng rolled his eyes.
“It absorbs the energy of the creatures I kill with it.”
A-Feng clicked his tongue again. “Feelings, life, death, and even a simple existence, everything is energy; therefore, everything can be imbued. Your weapon was forged by an ambition powerful enough to saturate it with it, and then it was used by people with a no less powerful spirit. Over time, it could absorb so much spiritual force, through its bearers or those it killed, that it finally developed a will of its own,” A-Feng continued as the three younger ones looked on in admiration.
A-Hui could not help but smile widely: A-Feng had explained all this without seeming to spit on the other. Ayden also seemed to have noticed. “Accurate analysis.”
A-Feng suddenly blushed, embarrassed, and looked away. “Any fool could guess that! Did you never learn that basic knowledge where you came from!”
Ayden smirked dangerously, teeth clenched. One day, he was going to crack and brush the mouth of this brat with soap and water.
“Does this sword have a name?” A-Hui asked.
“A name?”
Ayden looked at the younger one in surprise.
A-Hui nodded. “Yes. Weapons have names when held by warriors. Don’t you have this custom where you came from, Young Master Ayden?”
“Mm... There are, yes, but... They are usually legendary weapons or those mastered by people who have accomplished feats.”
Ayden stared thoughtfully at the road, fully aware of the five pairs of eyes fixed on him. The boys waited impatiently for him to say something, and after a moment, the redhead smiled and turned his head towards them again.
“Why not ‘No-Name’?”
The five young people looked at each other in surprise.
“No-Name?” A-Feng asked again, looking uncertain.
“No-Name. I don’t know who forged it, but it was passed down to me after being carried by my father. Since its creator is unknown, as are the other owners, why not ‘No-Name’.”
The five young people exchanged another incredulous glance: in their eyes, a name for a weapon was just as important as a name for a person. They were somewhat sorry that a blade was so named. But that was because they could not hear the delighted murmur of the sword in Ayden’s ears as it revelled in it.
No-Name was perfect for a sword of unknown origin!
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