WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS

Translator/Editor: Ryuu
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

I PULLED OUT THE EXCALIBUR

Chapter 85 - Midday Date (2)

Kidnapped at the break of dawn, Najin found himself whisked away in a carriage, destination unknown, deeming the situation more than sufficient to be called an abduction.

-Abduction? With your strength, you could shatter this carriage and escape in seconds.
‘Still counts as an abduction, doesn’t it?’
-Well, fancy that. A man near the level of a Sword Seeker, getting abducted.

No denying that.
Exhaling shortly, Najin sank into the carriage seat, conceding the point. Technically, it was an abduction, but hadn't he also not resisted?

Silently, he gazed across.
Dieta fidgeted with her knees, her head slightly bowed, seemingly unprepared for what came after commandeering the carriage.

"So, where is this carriage headed?"
"Yes, what?"
"I asked where we're going."

Dieta straightened up, smoothed her chest, and began,

"To the Empire's capital, Camelot."
"…Camelot?"
"Yes, I have business in Camelot. Besides my knight escort, I could bring one more. Thought it’d be nice to have you along."

The Empire's capital, Camelot.
Najin slowly nodded.

"But why me?"
"…You’re asking?"

Dieta sighed and crossed her arms.

"Kapman, on a similar mission, perished. Rumors are rife about a dark mage’s workshop discovery and a visit by the Order’s Inquisitor General. Do you know how worried I was?"
"…Is that so?"
"Yes, it is. Don’t look so surprised. Of course, I was worried."

It made sense, upon reflection.
Hadn’t he been lavished with support, serving as the face of the Trading Company? A figurehead dying abroad would certainly spell significant losses.

While Najin pondered this, Dieta squinted at him.

"You’re thinking, ‘As a model, my death would indeed be a loss for the Company,’ aren’t you?"
"How did you know?"
"Good grief. Yes, well, it would be a loss for the Company, but do you think that’s the only reason?"

Dieta let out a long, very long sigh, looking slightly disappointed at Najin.

"We’re not just acquaintances from work, are we?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well… even if not close friends, we’re at least that, right? I thought so."

The front part of her statement was lost on him, but he caught the latter. Silenced by Dieta's words, Najin pondered. The concept of friends was foreign to him. Growing up in the Underground City, he had no place for friends.

Competitors, perhaps.
Or targets to be eliminated.

If not, the relationships were mostly one-sided. In Artman, people either admired, envied, or feared Najin. The only real relationships he had were with Ivan, Offen, and perhaps Master Hogel, but...

‘They feel more like elders or mentors than friends.’

So, what does being friends feel like?

‘What’s the definition of a friend?’
-What...?

Najin, rubbing his chin, posed the question to Merlin. She retorted incredulously, and Najin, slightly bowing his head, mulled over it. Friends, friends...

"Are you seriously pondering what a friend is right now?"
"…I’ve never had one before. Do you have any, Dieta?"
"That’s quite a rude question. But to answer, of course, I...”

Dieta too fell silent.
Friends seem straightforward. Chatting, shaking hands, hanging out – that's friendship, right? But Dieta's idea of a friend was different.

Someone you can talk openly with.
Someone in front of whom you can drop all pretenses.

By that definition, she’d never had a friend. Her tumultuous childhood didn’t allow for such luxuries. If the man before her denied their friendship, it meant she’d never had one.

"…I don’t have any either."

Suddenly, Dieta laughed.
Two people in their twenties, sitting and earnestly discussing the definition of friendship – it was absurd. With a thin smile, Dieta said,

"I thought we were friends, but if you thought otherwise, I’d feel a bit disappointed...”

Extending her hand, Dieta offered,

"Shall we start being friends then?"
"What role does a friend play?"
"Just someone you can talk openly with. Someone whose company is enjoyable and comforting enough to share your feelings with?"
"In that case...”

Grasping Dieta's hand, Najin considered.
Indeed, he felt somewhat at ease with Dieta. He wasn’t sure why.

"It seems right. Friends."
"Right?"

Accepting Najin's handshake, Dieta mused.
To her, Najin had always been perfect and capable. In swordsmanship, disguises, escapes, diplomacy, combat – he was a flawless mercenary.

But seeing him earnestly contemplate and feel unfamiliar with the term 'friend'...

It was like encountering a new side of him. Naive in terms of relationships. After all, he always seemed a bit reclusive.

‘Is he weak in this aspect...?’

Dieta swallowed hard.
Exploiting psychological nuances for gain was a trader’s virtue. Even without friendship experience, this was her area of expertise. Her greedy eyes fixed on Najin.

‘If I manipulate him this way or that.’

Could I make him look only at me?
Starting with daily greetings, sharing meals, and then...

"Friends."

As Dieta schemed, Najin suddenly spoke up. Though it seemed like a murmur, it was loud enough to catch Dieta's attention. Drawn by his voice, she looked at Najin's face.

He was smiling faintly,
as if fond of the resonance the word 'friend' brought.

At that sight, Dieta's mind went blank. She swiftly turned away to look outside, pressing down on her racing heart, trying to steady her breath.

...In relationships,

or rather, in matters of love, isn't it said the one who falls first loses? If that's the case, she's already marked as a loser, stepping onto the battlefield with a label on her forehead. Reversing the roles of victor and vanquished wouldn't be easy with just resolve.

'It's going to be a tough battle.'

So, start with friendship.
They say starting is half the journey. Having started, it’s as good as done. If she’s come this far, that’s quite the progress. So, for today, she should take it easy...

"......”

Dieta's escort, Pasion, glancing back, shook his head. Whatever conversation happened inside, judging by his master's flushed ears, it seemed to have gone awry.

Stay strong, Dieta.

Murmuring internally, Pasion drove on.

The journey to the Empire's capital took a considerable amount of time.

Throughout the carriage ride, Najin remained on high alert, which Dieta found peculiar. His demeanor suggested he was being pursued or cornered.

Sharp, alert eyes.
Hands always resting on the sword hilt.
Just like when she first saw him.

Back then, in the alley, Najin had the same look. Dieta thought to broach the subject but decided it was too soon and held her tongue.

"Regardless of who."

As they neared the Empire's capital, Camelot, after several days, Dieta turned to Najin.

"You won’t be harmed in the Empire's capital. If blood is shed in the heart of the Imperial City, that person won’t stand idly by."
"Who might that be?"
"Sword Master, Sir Gerd."

The advice to relax.
Hearing this, Najin blinked. Realizing his constant vigilance had been noticed, he gave an awkward smile.

"…Is it that obvious?"
"Even when talking or sleeping, your hand’s on your sword. How could it not be?"

Dieta let out a bitter laugh.

"Let's talk about this later."

Saying so, she gestured ahead.

"We’ve arrived."

Before them stood a massive gate.

"The Empire's capital, Camelot."

***

The Empire's capital, Camelot, encircled by towering walls, is the heart of the myth-entwined Empire of Britannia. As Najin stepped out of the carriage, the expanse before him took his breath away.

The city's core, known as the world's center.

Looking up, the sight is dominated by towering spires. Seven Magic Towers encircle the capital, yet none cast a shadow. Special treatments allow the towers’ walls to let sunlight through, ensuring the Empire's every corner is evenly lit.

An endless, boundless city.

At its heart, and its highest point, sits the Imperial Palace, covered in platinum. Gazing at its peak, there's a void in the sky, dark as night despite the daylight, but not devoid of light. Through the breach, a star was visible.

A constellation of thirteen stars.

The first Emperor of the Empire,

The rightful ruler of Britannia,

The great hero, the King of Knights, Arthur's star.

Day or night, Arthur's star shone from the Empire's core, illuminating everything. Overwhelmed, Najin couldn't help but sigh.

-It’s been a while, this place too.

Merlin, gazing at Camelot through Najin's eyes, smiled wistfully. The Camelot she knew had changed too much.

Britannia wasn’t always an Empire.
Nor was Camelot always this grand.

Originally, Britannia was just a shelter established by Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table for refugees. Camelot, now the capital, was merely an old castle back then.

-They’ve grown it so much.

From those humble beginnings, Britannia has become an empire dominating the continent, and the old castle of Camelot transformed into a vast capital, encircled by seven Magic Towers. Merlin sighed with mixed emotions.

"This way."

Led by Dieta, Najin arrived at a street lined with buildings, each flying its own flag, representing various houses or groups.

Among them stood a building with Dieta Trading Company's emblem, modest and unassuming compared to the others, with just a flag hanging from an otherwise plain building.

Thud.

Stopping before it, Dieta turned to Najin, her smile indicating she took great pride in this building.

"This is our company's building."

She marked her territory in front of the building. Opening the door, Dieta gestured inside. inviting him to follow.

Najin followed Dieta into the building, still bare and stark. The cleanup seemed incomplete, with dust in places. Climbing the ‘creaky’ stairs after Dieta, Najin reached the top floor.

Though it was only three stories high.

At the highest point of the building, Dieta flung open a window. Beckoning Najin to her side, she tapped the windowsill. Unable to resist her gesture, Najin joined her by the window.

"This is the Merchant’s Quarter of Camelot. It can't compare to the merchant's street in Cambria, can it?"
"Indeed."
"Owning even one plot here signifies a successful company. See those flags? Locktide, Corneld, the continent’s renowned companies. Vastly more significant than my company."

Pointing out lavishly decorated buildings and their towering presence, Dieta continued,

"Yet, starting from the City of Opportunities and erecting a building in the Empire's capital is a first for our company. By ‘our,’ I mean mine. It’s a remarkable achievement, don't you think?"
"Is it?"
"For now, it's just this modest building."

Turning to Najin, Dieta smiled.

"But I plan to devour that building."

Pointing at the tallest building in the street, the Corneld family’s banner flying high, she laughed.

"Like in Cambria, engulf the entire street, making it mine... and then."

Next would be there.
Extending her finger, she pointed at the palace. Around the palace stood five towers, resembling towering watchtowers. People referred to these as the Empire's Five Pillars.

The Empire's Five Pillars, the Imperial Pentagon.

Towers granted to the five, excluding the Emperor, deemed the greatest in the Empire. Najin knew one of these housed Sword Master Gerd.

"Owning one of those towers."

Pointing at a tower, Dieta declared her goal.

"That's my objective. Thanks to you, Najin, a goal I can dream of."

Dieta’s eyes sparkled a bright yellow as she looked at the tower. A snake's gaze, hungry for gold, and Dieta’s gaze.

"To come all the way to the Empire's capital without much reason... I just wanted to see it with you. How does it seem? Daunting, right?"
"It doesn't look easy."
"That’s not something you should say."

Dieta smirked.

"Your goal is right there, isn’t it?"

Following her gaze, Najin knew where she meant without her pointing. He looked at the star hanging above the palace.

The highest star.
The greatest, Arthur's constellation.

Looking at that star, Najin smiled faintly, feeling the long road ahead.

"It’s a long journey ahead."
"I know. Just looking at those flags makes me sigh. I need to knock them all down to ascend there, but I’m already weary."

Turning away, Dieta leaned against the window, sweeping her hair back.

"So."

Reaching out, she grabbed Najin by the collar.
Firmly gripping his collar, she pulled him closer. Despite her slender fingers and the ease with which he could escape, Najin allowed himself to be drawn in.

Close enough to share breaths, Najin and Dieta locked eyes. Her pale yellow gaze met his dusk-lit eyes. From this proximity, Dieta whispered as if sharing a secret.

"Don't rush, or you'll spoil even what's meant to be."

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