The man brought the sword down in quick succession, slicing the melon neatly into eighths.
The boy clapped his hands at such a show. "Father, we own the sharpest sword in all of the world!"
"No, my son. The sharpest sword in all of the world is owned by greed."
The boy frowned. "But Father, greed does not own hands. Greed can not even hold a sword."
"You are wrong, my son. Greed can own a most powerful grip."
The boy considered this. "Can the sword of greed cut melons?"
"The sword of greed owns an evil edge that runs deathly deep. A million and more have lost their heads to this sword, a billion souls shredded till nothing remained. Sons have pierced the hearts of their very fathers with the sword of greed."
The boy’s eyes grew wide. His words trembled. "I wish to never lay hands on such a sword."
Of a sudden, his chest puffed out, as did his chin. "I will build a shield, a most powerful shield. You must carry it always."
The father handed his son a slice of melon. "Yes, we shall build it together, my son."
The boy took an anxious bite and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "When shall we start, Father? Shall we start tomorrow?"
The man took a bite and tousled his son’s hair. "We have already started, my son. We are building it now."