WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

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◈ I Pulled Out Excalibur

Chapter 244

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On That Adventure Worth Telling With a Smile (2)

Don Quixote adventured.

Across plains of snow-white marble.

Across salt seas.

Through verdant forests.

Along shores of rippling red waves, through obsidian forests, through sword graves where tens of thousands of blades stood planted in the earth, through the domain of a Constellation adorned with instruments, through gardens in full bloom, past ancient trees that soared toward the heavens...

Through countless corners of the Outland, Don Quixote adventured.

"The world is full of the unknown!"

He ran with vigor.

"If someone says the Outland, the world beyond the world, is nothing but harsh and cruel and bitter land,"

He marched at the very front, waving a banner painted with a sunflower that looked like a child's scrawl.

"Then I, Don Quixote, the Ingenious Gentleman of Quixano, shall say this. How could a world brimming with the unknown be anything but a joy? That must surely be because you do not enjoy adventure!"

Stars followed in his wake.

Dozens of Constellations, stars on their way to becoming Forgotten Ones, those who had only been postponing their deaths, all willingly followed Don Quixote in hopes of one final joyful adventure.

"Then follow me."

Don Quixote laughed.

"I will show you the finest adventure, one so good you could talk and laugh about it again and again, no matter how many times."

The Star of Mirth shone ludicrously bright.

So that those who gazed upon it could laugh, so that they could set down their worries and laugh until their sides split, the Star of Mirth willingly painted the dark night sky in every color imaginable.

"Come along, Sancho."

The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote was laughing today, as always. The dreamer who had once cried out that the world lacked laughter had, before he even realized it, become a knight leading dozens of stars.

"Toward La Mancha!"

Like the hero of that fairy tale, 「The Knights of La Mancha」, the tale inspired by the legend of Arthur.

Najin closed his eyes and let the past journey wash over him.

Recalling months, perhaps years of travel was not particularly painful. It had been, just as Don Quixote had declared, an adventure worth laughing and talking about.

The domain of the eccentric Constellation, adorned with instruments.

There, without a moment's hesitation, Don Quixote had grabbed one of the instruments and started playing. The performance was absurd. A mess. Even the Constellation who had been about to attack the intruders couldn't help but sigh.

「That's not how you hold a violin. That's not how you play it, either. Watch closely. Like this! This is how it's done.」

Instead of the sword she had raised to run Don Quixote through, the Constellation picked up a violin lying nearby and started to play. Don Quixote clapped at her playing and broke into song without missing a beat. The bard chimed in. The shepherd danced. The gardener added harmonies.

The Constellation was thrown off by the sudden performance for only a moment before she burst out laughing and kept right on playing.

「Truly, I've lived hundreds of years and I don't think I've ever seen people like you. Fine. You win. I'll admit it.」

The eccentric Constellation, who had attacked all who dared set foot in her domain, said, "It was a delightful performance. Worth enjoying," and cleared the path for Don Quixote and his companions, as if paying the price of admission for a show well worth watching.

Then there was another day.

A spire that seemed to touch the sky. A Constellation had shut herself away inside, dying slowly. She was the last princess of a fallen ancient kingdom, withering over long years in the anguish of being the only one to survive.

「A princess locked away in a tower by a vile witch! There she is! Any knight worth his salt must rescue a kidnapped princess at least once. Come, we free the princess trapped in that tower!」

Don Quixote climbed the tower with his bare hands and got the princess out. When she asked why he was interfering with someone who wanted to die, Don Quixote made his offer.

"Rather than dying trapped in a place like this, why not come with me to paradise?"

「I am a sinner. I failed in my duty as royalty and survived only by fleeing alone. I have no right to go to paradise. Let me die.」

The princess said so. Don Quixote's answer came right back.

「We are all sinners in this world, Princess!」

Don Quixote cried out.

「Everyone lives burdened by sin. Does that mean sinners cannot go to paradise? Not at all. From what I've heard from my faithful companion Rocinante here, God does not seem to be such a strict sort. Wouldn't you agree, Rocinante?」

「Why, of course, my lord. Surely He would not welcome those as wicked as demons, but for this poor princess, I imagine He would set aside a place.」

「There you have it, Princess. Come along. I shall gladly take you all the way to paradise.」

All that ridiculous logic and theatrical flair made the princess burst out laughing despite herself. Reluctantly, she joined Don Quixote's journey.

Don Quixote's adventures tended to go like that.

They unfolded in ways no one could have predicted, turning every situation into one where getting angry would feel foolish. No matter how grave things became, he laughed, and in laughing, things somehow resolved themselves.

Not every stretch of the journey could be like that.

There were times they lost companions. Some who could not endure the erosion became Forgotten Ones in the end.

「To my dear Julai. To Amand Julai.」

Even in those moments.

「This is not a farewell. I have not forgotten my promise to take you to paradise. The songs you sang, the laughter you shared, I remember them all clearly.」

Don Quixote did not lose his smile.

「Come with us. Julai.」

The urn he carried no longer held only the people of the Quixano domain. The stars who had traveled alongside him were now in there too, making the journey with Don Quixote all the same.

And so time passed, and kept passing.

"......"

Najin.

"Ah."

He opened his eyes.

The memory was done.

He looked ahead. The journey's end was right there.

"We've finally arrived, my lord."

"Yes. So it is, Sancho."

A land bathed in warm sunlight.

Impossibly calm for the heart of the Outland, with a gentle breeze drifting through. Look up and there was a clear blue sky. In the Outland, it was a place that more than earned the name paradise.

"Rocinante."

"Yes, my lord."

"Is this truly the paradise we set out to find?"

"It would seem so. It is a place very much like paradise."

At the end of the long journey, they had arrived at paradise.

"We've finally arrived, Teacher."

"Truly, 'paradise' is the only word for this place. Is this the paradise the Knight spoke of?"

"...... Not bad."

"I can't remember the last time I felt real sunlight. Not imagined, not conjured by some domain, real sunlight......"

While his companions each added their word, Don Quixote drew a long, slow breath and looked around. Green fields and apple trees, a vast garden stretching out wide, petals swaying in the breeze.

He drank it all in. Then he turned.

There stood the companions who had adventured with him all this way. Their numbers, once over dozens, had dwindled significantly, barely fifteen remaining now, but counting the urn in his hands, every last one of them had made it to paradise.

"My dear friends."

Don Quixote spoke. With every eye upon him, he drove the lance into the ground.

"This is our final destination."

The end of the journey.

"A place bathed in warm sunlight. A place where green fields stretch as far as the eye can see. Where flowers bloom in full and verdant trees stand tall. A place that can truly be called paradise."

Truth be told, Don Quixote knew.

"This is the paradise we have been seeking."

Not just him. Every one of them who had traveled together knew it too.

"La Mancha."

That this place was not truly paradise.

Everyone knew.

Of course they did. Paradise exists nowhere. It never had. This was nothing more than a place where accident upon accident had somehow kept the sky from breaking, a byproduct of fractured skies folding against one another.

A place born of pure accident.

But Don Quixote called it paradise.

He gave this place the name La Mancha.

"The sun does not rise in the Outland. Sunlight does not reach it, and a blue sky cannot exist. That is the common knowledge of the Outland, is it not, my friends?"

Don Quixote laughed.

"And yet here, things that cannot exist do exist. Warm sunlight, a blue sky, green fields and flowers."

Laughing, as always, he spun his outrageous logic.

"Then this place, which cannot exist anywhere, is paradise. This is the La Mancha we have been searching for all along."

At Don Quixote's absurd reasoning, the stars burst out laughing. Well, having come this far, whether paradise was real or not hardly mattered anymore.

"If Teacher says so, then so it is."

"If the Knight says so."

"It does look like paradise, after all."

They were stars who had been searching for a place to be buried. Slowly eroding, waiting for death. Some had already made up their minds to die. Others just wanted one last joyful adventure.

So the shape of paradise did not matter.

What mattered was the adventure they had shared on the way here. Savoring that adventure, they chose this place as their final resting ground.

"Thank you, Teacher. It was the finest adventure. One worth turning over in your mind again and again, and laughing until you can't breathe each time you do."

"Especially the time we gave the Heaven-Wandering Star the slip. That was something."

"And the feast we held in the Graveyard of Instruments. Can't leave that out."

"What about riding the magical beasts at a full gallop?"

"And don't forget the ball, please?"

Sharing their memories, one by one they settled into paradise. Each let their eroding star fall to rest in that place.

"Don Quixote."

"Teacher."

"My lord."

"Sir Knight."

"You."

"My knight."

"My prince."

"My dear, my one true friend."

Each in their own way, they called out Don Quixote's name and said their farewells. They smiled and closed their eyes. With their falling stars, they made this place their grave.

And then something happened that no one had expected.

A Stars' Graveyard normally carries its own domain. One that admits no outside interference, belonging solely to itself. But the domains of the Constellations who had chosen to be buried in La Mancha did not exist independently.

"Ah......"

They shared a single domain.

Within a single domain called La Mancha, they closed their eyes.

To them, La Mancha was more than just a word for paradise. It was the journey toward it, all those joyful adventures they had shared together. That was the grave they chose. In the paradise bathed in warm sunlight, the echo of their laughter rippled softly through the air.

"......"

Only three remained. Don Quixote, Sancho, Rocinante.

The three of them looked out over La Mancha and smiled.

"My lord."

"Yes, Sancho."

"You should bury them, my lord."

Don Quixote buried the urn in La Mancha. The people of the Quixano domain, who had been reduced to ash by fire, and the companions who had journeyed alongside him, and those who had become Forgotten Ones, every last one of them was buried in La Mancha.

They would find rest here.

Everything Don Quixote had set out to accomplish, he had accomplished. He had gone on an adventure worth laughing and talking about, and at its end, he had arrived at paradise.

"What will you do now, my lord?"

Najin asked.

What would he do next?

"Well. First, I suppose I must grant you this piece of paradise, Sancho. By the decree of Don Quixote, the Ingenious Gentleman of Quixano, you, Sancho, are hereby the Lord of La Mancha!"

Don Quixote declared Najin Lord of Paradise with a wide grin. Najin shrugged.

"And......"

Don Quixote looked up at the sky.

"I..."

The clear blue sky, and beyond it, the faint outlines of countless stars. Looking at his companions who had found rest in La Mancha, Don Quixote smiled.

"I think I shall continue adventuring a little while longer."

"Continue, my lord?"

"Yes. Are there not still many in this Outland who cannot laugh? The world still lacks laughter."

Don Quixote knocked on his own armor.

Fakes, antiques, falsehoods patched and stitched together, yet through the journey it had become a true Star Relic.

"So laugh I shall."

He laughed.

"Must I not gather more adventure tales worth laughing and telling? The journey of Don Quixote continues!"

His laughter was contagious. Rocinante and Najin both broke into laughter without meaning to. Yes, yes, that's right, my lord. The three of them laughed for a long while.

"Then I shall accompany you, my lord. I too wish to run a little further."

"Rocinante, with you alongside me there is nothing to fear. Sancho. What will you do?"

"How could I be absent from your journey, my lord? You still can't put your armor on properly, after all."

"Ahaha! I knew you'd say that. With the Lord of Paradise by my side, there's nothing to fear!"

One story had drawn to its close, but this was not the end of the story. Only the beginning of a new one. The three of them began getting ready for the road ahead.

"To my dear nephew, Anton Quixano."

For a moment, Don Quixote became Alonso Quixano again and sent a letter to Anton Quixano.

"I have arrived at La Mancha. When your revenge is finished, I hope you will come here too. This is an invitation from your uncle Alonso Quixano, and from Don Quixote, the Ingenious Gentleman of La Mancha."

He was no longer Don Quixote, the Ingenious Gentleman of Quixano. He was now Don Quixote, the Gentleman of La Mancha, who had found La Mancha and would guide countless souls to paradise.

"Now then, my dear friends."

Don Quixote rose to his feet.

"Let us go and gather new adventures, breathtaking adventures, the finest tales to tell our friends who rest here. As always, adventures full of laughter!"

With that cry, Don Quixote took his first step forward.

Or rather, tried to.

"Aha."

Laughter.

"I couldn't agree more. The world does lack laughter."

Someone was standing in front of them.

Hair as black as night, flowing like silk.

A dress that brought to mind a night sky.

A woman draped in an extravagant gown fit for a ball spoke in a languid, unhurried voice.

"I do love laughter as well. Laughter is like black paint, you see. No matter what colors lie beneath, it paints right over all of them. Before laughter, everything loses its color."

She was a beautiful woman. When she smiled, though, that smile held nothing beautiful. Nothing ridiculous, either. A smile filled with nothing but mockery. Deeply unpleasant.

"Before laughter, everyone rejoices. Overwhelmed by joy, they weep, and they open their mouths wide to cry out."

Joy.

"They dance from joy. They sing and laugh. They laugh until the world itself could be swept away, screaming with laughter. Laugh! Laugh and laugh again! For nothing in the world holds any worth besides laughter! And so laughter alone is the only truth!"

merriment.

"And you are."

"Yes."

"Who are you?"

"I am the master of jesters who laugh and revel. A king, perhaps. Or an emperor."

Sovereign.

"The Carnival King."

The Carnival King.

"By another name, let me see."

The Carnival King smiled.

"There is Dulcinea, I suppose. Don Quixote."

"...What?"

"The knight who will laugh for me, forever. Your lady has come to find you."

A smile of flawless beauty.

And then. Clap.

The Carnival King brought her hands together.

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