Sengo did his best not to snarl about the ridiculous number of menial tasks his master, Masamune, forced him to perform even months later when low-status students were excused from the chores. Despite trying to accept his lot, it rankled his pride. He was an accomplished swordsmith already, after all!

If you want to be the best swordsmith in history, be humble first.

Being a servant student was part of the price to pay.

Focus on this sword.

Pulling the iron from the coals, he inspected the color of the piece in the pitch-black room. Replacing several it times in the small trench of the furnace. His hammer rang in a series of blows for the final edge shaping.

The best I've made so far. Yet there are areas I can push my craft.

Next, he carefully put a slurry of clay and water in his signature long wave pattern and heated the blade once more, slowly this time—always keeping it in motion so the blade heated evenly until it was cherry red. Now for the big test! Would this slurry with its special additive produce the edge for the sharpest blade ever?

There was no time to think. He had to plunge the blade quickly into the water for just a breath's time. The water hissed and the blade's glow faded. When the blade emerged and the metal curved because the uncoated edge cooled faster than the other, his heart sank. He swore as the blade warped to the right before his eyes. Turning the now useless hunk of metal in the tongs from one side to another, he groaned when he saw the discontinuity in the hamon; the design left from the hardening where the slurry was. Then he spotted the dry stir stick. Idiot! How could he have been so zealous to try the new recipe and forget to mix it?

Heat crept up his face as his arm with the tongs raised to chuck the wasted effort across the room.

"Muramasa Sengo!" The name snapped into the air with a growl behind the trainee smith.

It caused a pause in his movement, and he lowered his arm. Heaving in a breath, he replied, "Yes, Sensei?"

Masamune-sensei's tone softened. "The sword can only be as good as the focus, prayer, and care that its creator put into it. Let me see what has happened."

Sengo gave the tongs, holding the failed blade, to his teacher.

Masamune-sensei murmured, "This mistake is below you." 

Sengo bowed deeply. "Yes, Sensei. I let my excitement get the best of me. It won't happen again."

"You seem obsessed with having the sharpest edge."

Sengo nodded. 

"Isn't that what makes the best blade?"

The student's head tilted. Wasn't it? "It will be what the world will know my blades for, Master." When I remake this blade, I'll challenge you to a duel.

Masamune-sensei rubbed his chin before returning to his own work.