Until the Titan roared on the afternoon of the third day, signaling nightfall in Braavos, "Shorty" Weiss still hadn't come to the smithy to find him.
Just as Arthur thought he had missed his chance with the wooden-faced swordsman and his Water Dancer master, there was a knock on his door.
The guard brought in a swordsman dressed in standard Braavosi fashion. He wasn't tall, had curly hair, sharp features, and remarkably spirited eyes.
"You are Arthur Snow?" The swordsman clasped his hands behind his back, introducing himself crisply in Braavosi.
"I am Syrio Forel, the Water Dancer master of 'Shorty' Weiss."
Arthur raised an eyebrow involuntarily, but he wasn't surprised.
A student with such outstanding swordsmanship implied a master of formidable skill. Arthur had a hunch that the Water Dancer master Weiss spoke of was Syrio Forel.
Syrio Forel was the First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos. And every First Sword was acknowledged as the finest swordsman in the city.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, First Sword of the Sealord." Arthur stood up and walked to a nearby rack where the finished Black Mamba sword rested.
"Where is 'Shorty' Weiss? The real sword I promised him is ready."
"You know me? You knew my relationship with Weiss beforehand?" Syrio frowned, a trace of wariness in his eyes. "I have never met you. What is your purpose?"
"In Braavos, I should at least know the name of the best swordsman, though your name isn't as easy to remember as the courtesans'." Arthur smiled, took the sword from the rack, and turned back.
"When a boy with a wooden personality possesses such brilliant swordsmanship, his master isn't hard to guess."
"I'm not interested in your identity. I just wanted to meet you and learn the water dance." Arthur drew the sword. The last rays of twilight caught the rustic blade, revealing a unique luster.
"In exchange for teaching me, I will forge you a Black Mamba sword like this one."
"This sword is also... hmm?" Syrio Forel narrowed his eyes slightly. He suddenly sensed a hidden, deadly sharpness in the unassuming rapier, from tip to edge.
"May I see the sword first?"
"Of course. It was promised to your apprentice, Weiss, anyway." Arthur sheathed the blade and handed it, scabbard and all, to Syrio.
"He didn't tell me where he lives. You can take it to him later."
"This is truly a fine sword. It seems the rumors are true; with this blade, cutting another sword in two is indeed possible." Syrio examined the rapier closely, asking, "Weiss told me you dodged his charged strike. How did you do that?"
"Maybe it was luck." Arthur shrugged. He couldn't exactly tell Syrio he used a [Dodge] card to cheat.
"Some questions have no answers. How is the Black Mamba? Worth teaching me the water dance?"
"This sword is indeed a masterwork, not much inferior to Valyrian steel." A flash of desire passed through Syrio Forel's eyes. Every swordsman coveted a fine blade.
"I heard that if I defeat you, you'll forge a Black Mamba for me for free?"
"The quality varies from sword to sword." Sensing the eagerness in Syrio's tone, the corners of Arthur's mouth lifted unconsciously.
"I was in a perfect state of mind when I forged this one. Not every sword can reach this quality."
Compared to Syrio's water dance techniques, Arthur actually valued his identity as the First Sword more.
Whether it was his fame or his position close to the Sealord, proper utilization could bring many benefits.
"Of course, if you agree to my request, I will naturally put my all into forging the Black Mamba you desire."
Syrio scrutinized Arthur, emphasizing, "Only teaching the water dance. How long do you need? And I can only come after the Titan roars."
"I learn fast. No more than half a year." Arthur nodded. "I will wait for you in the backyard punctually."
In the end, Syrio Forel didn't take the Black Mamba sword. He said 'Shorty' Weiss would come to live at the mansion later, serving Arthur as a guard to repay the debt of the gifted sword.
In the following weeks, whenever the Titan roared, Syrio arrived at the mansion on time to teach Arthur the water dance.
This gave Arthur systematic training in the water dance, significantly improving his footwork and swordsmanship.
Over these weeks of instruction, Arthur became well-acquainted with Syrio and 'Shorty' Weiss.
Especially Weiss. He couldn't put down the rustic-looking Black Mamba, wiping it carefully with an oilcloth every morning and evening.
Arthur didn't treat Weiss as an ordinary guard. He arranged for him to learn duties usually reserved for a squire.
Such as grooming Shadow daily, learning horsemanship, and studying the Common Tongue of Westeros.
Although Weiss was wooden, he was incredibly focused and serious when learning, often mastering skills faster and better than ordinary people.
Arthur once asked Weiss what he wanted to do in the future. The shorty just scratched his head woodenly, blushing, and wouldn't answer.
It wasn't until Arthur invited Syrio to dinner after a practice session that the topic came up.
"He wants to become the First Sword to the Sealord," Syrio Forel said bluntly after a few cups of plum wine.
"But with his temperament, he cannot become the First Sword."
"I heard the First Sword is recognized as the strongest swordsman in Braavos," Arthur asked, puzzled. "He might not be now, but given his age and focus, I think he has a good chance."
"I have no doubt about his achievements in swordsmanship. He is the apprentice I chose," Syrio smiled. "But to be the First Sword requires more than just superior skill with a blade."
Arthur: "What else does it need? Loyalty to the Sealord?"
"Loyalty is naturally important." Syrio shook his head, put down his cup, and narrowed his eyes. "But seeing is more important. That boy lacks the ability to see the truth of things!"
Syrio told Arthur the story of how he became the First Sword:
"The ships of Braavos sail to all corners of the world. Every time they return, the captains present exotic animals to the Sealord for his menagerie.
"Except for dragons, I saw every kind of rare beast in the Sealord's menagerie.
"At that time, the previous First Sword had just died. The Sealord summoned me, for by tradition, a successor had to be chosen immediately.
"Many swordsmen had seen him before me. Some were stronger, taller, faster than I.
"Yet all were sent away. No one could say why."
"When I first saw the Sealord, he was sitting peacefully with a fat yellow cat on his lap. He told me one of his captains had brought it to him from an island far beyond the sunrise lands.
"'Have you ever seen an animal like her?' he asked me."
"And I told him: 'Every night in the alleys of Braavos, I see thousands like him.' The Sealord laughed and clapped his hands, appointing me First Sword that very day."
"Seeing... worthy of the Sealord, to test hearts with an ordinary cat." Arthur nodded in agreement after hearing the story.
"By his method, the First Sword found would either be an honest man to the point of stubbornness, or a clever man with true insight."
Syrio looked at Arthur with some surprise.
"Just as you say. It was just an ordinary cat.
"Others expected to see a rare beast, so they only saw a rare beast.
"They said the cat was huge, but it wasn't particularly large, just a bit fat from laziness and the Sealord feeding it scraps from his table.
"They said its ears were exquisite, but really, a piece had just been bitten off in a fight with another cat.
"And it was clearly a tomcat, but because the Sealord said 'she,' they believed it."
Arthur thought for a moment. "As you say, Weiss's wooden nature isn't suited to be the First Sword."
"Weiss is too obedient. He can follow orders meticulously." Syrio shook his head with a sigh. His apprentice's talent for swordsmanship and stealth was first-class, but his personality was rigid.
"He struggles to think for himself or distinguish the deeper nature of things."