WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 215: A Story of the Past, Pied Piper of Hameln - 1

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Young faces stood at regular intervals across the broad parade ground.

Thick logs rested across their narrow, neatly aligned shoulders like makeshift bridges. Bearing the crushing weight that ran down their backs and legs through sheer grit, the children stared forward with flushed faces. The moment the leader blew the whistle, they all stamped their feet in unison.

-On a low hill stands the hall of learning. Oh, embrace of Hamelin.

Small, deep footprints scattered densely across the sand. Children in uniform-like school clothes began jogging with logs several times their size balanced on their shoulders. Clenching their fists, they shouted as a strange bond bloomed through the pain.

-Burning all our blood and sweat to defeat our foes...

That feeling did not last long. Physical pain made them forget everything else.

The whistle wavered with their steps, and the heavy logs pressed down on them harder. As though their flesh were being crushed, they wrung every last breath from their lungs and shouted louder.

-For our glorious nation, we advance, offering our lives...

The run was nearing its end. Their strained voices gradually weakened. Nearly at their limits, the children moved in step toward the finish line ahead.

-Forward, forward.

They pressed onward in time with the song.

The instant the leader crossed the finish line, the song ended.

-Into the future of the military state.

"Ugh! I can't breathe!"

I threw away the whistle clenched between my teeth and gasped for air. My sweat-soaked clothes clung stickily to me. It was hard to tell where my skin ended and the fabric began.

Log jogging, one of the training programs at a middle military school.

It was supposedly meant to build the stamina and teamwork of students who had not yet matured into soldiers... but that was just an excuse. In truth, it was little more than the country's way of tormenting us.

"Teamwork, my ass. It just makes the politics worse."

People came in all sizes. Their stride lengths, shoulder heights, walking habits, even the intervals at which they breathed, none of it matched. Yet the logs forcibly weighed us down, so we had no choice but to devote every ounce of effort to matching one another's rhythm.

If we failed, the logs would tilt or roll off, and someone would receive a harsh punishment.

"Ow, my shoulder. Seriously. If I stop growing or end up with uneven shoulders, it'll all be this damned school's fault..."

I had collapsed during our brief break and was groaning to myself when I heard light footsteps on the ground.

I did not need to look to know who it was. While everyone else lay sprawled on the ground, moaning after a training session that bordered on abuse, there was only one person who could walk around so lightly.

Historia approached me without a single drop of sweat on her. She looked bored rather than tired.

"Ria, perfect timing. Come massage my shoulder, aaaargh! Never mind! I surrender!"

What terrifying pressure! It was heavier than the log!

Only after I bent my knees and declared defeat through the pain did Historia let go.

"Hui. You remember our promise, right?"

"What promi... Aaargh! I remember! I remember, so stop!"

The hand threatening my shoulder disappeared. Rubbing the spot, I looked at its owner.

On Hamelin's dusty parade ground, Historia alone seemed out of place. Her breathing had not grown ragged in the slightest, and not a speck of dust clung to the long hair swaying at her waist. I could not check here, but if I looked beneath her collar, it would be even clearer.

Her shoulders, which should have been marked red from the log, would be perfectly clean.

Anyone looking at her would think she had skipped the run alone.

"Thank you for joining the log jog. We were a little short on people today, so it was risky, but thanks to you, nobody fell behind!"

"Save the sweet talk. Are you going to keep your promise?"

"...Uh, well."

"If I filled in for the missing students, you would be my sparring partner for an hour. That was the promise, wasn't it?"

Really, though, it would not have been an exaggeration to say she had carried the log by herself today.

Historia might not have been the strongest person in the military state, but she was its strongest student.

Born with an extraordinary talent for aura, she had already attained Geongon and mastered it at eighteen. Her strength had surpassed that of senior officers and rivaled that of generals. She simply had no stars on her shoulders yet.

The only reason she had joined a run she did not need to participate in, despite being capable of lifting that log from a seated position, was because of the condition I had set.

"Ah, I'm going to get beaten half to death again."

"Don't be dramatic. We agreed neither of us would use aura."

"That doesn't change the fact that I'll get beaten without aura. Why not spar with someone else who's good at it?"

"No. The others get carried away by their own strength, and the instructors hold back. You're the only one who can trade moves with me, at least a little."

That was not trading moves. I read her mind in advance and dodged. Before long, though, Historia would start getting into it and beat me mercilessly anyway.

Still, a promise was a promise.

"Sigh. Fine. I'll take a beating today. If you want to hit me that badly."

"If you hadn't wasted your time and had sincerely trained in aura from the start, you would've been a good enough match for me."

"I don't think so."

Even with my fraudulent ability to read minds, and even with her agreeing not to use aura, I got beaten one-sidedly. The difference in talent was overwhelming. Learning a little aura would not change that.

Dissatisfied by my lukewarm attitude, Historia voiced the complaints she had been holding in.

"You're strange too. Why are you wasting your time on something as useless as log jogging?"

"Useless? Do you have any idea how much log jogging helps develop teamwork and physical fitness?"

"Don't say things you don't mean. Listen carefully, Hui. I'll say this again."

As though she were trying to persuade me while I sat there silently, Historia spoke each word clearly.

"You don't need to sacrifice yourself for them just because you're top of the class."

Historia roughly brushed back her hair and looked over everyone. Her eyes were different from when she looked at me, indifferent as though she were looking at stones by the roadside.

The clearest emotion in them was irritation.

Since entering Hamelin, the endlessly weak and childish students around us had been little more than weights tied around Historia's ankles. I was the only classmate who could even remotely stand on equal footing with her.

And while I faithfully carried out my duties as class leader, Historia believed they kept me from doing what I wanted.

Perhaps that was why she spoke as if she were addressing me, yet loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"If you lead a pack of rabbits, you'll only become the head rabbit. Associating with dropouts, or those destined to become dropouts, will only hold you back. Please, Hui. Value your time."

Her words dug into the children's hearts.

Yet not one of them refuted her. Their feelings were entirely their own, but none could even meet Historia's eyes.

They only clenched their teeth and turned away.

Historia neither mocked them nor gave them another glance, which made their inferiority all the worse.

"Your time is far more valuable than that of those destined to fall behind, with no courage or spirit. Please, stop wasting your attention on worthless things."

One strong person could overwhelm a thousand. Historia was proof of that.

An overwhelming powerhouse.

Literally. During combined combat training, Historia had defeated every student in Hamelin... except one.

...Except one person.

A boy who had been reading in the shade without participating in the run heard Historia's voice. With a deep frown, he came over.

"Try thinking before you speak."

The red-haired boy walked toward us, looking scholarly and irritable at once. He snapped shut his thick book and tapped his forehead.

"Do you still not get it? Smashing everything to pieces isn't always the answer. Hui is top of the class, class leader, and a model for every student. He's earning points to make himself look good to the military state."

At his sudden appearance, Historia let out a short sigh, as though she had expected this.

"I didn't ask you, Lankart."

"I'm answering for our top student, who's busy managing his image. Let this sink in."

With a sharp motion, he pointed at the instructors. The instructors who had ordered the log jog from the platform were earnestly discussing something as they looked toward Historia and me.

Lankart glanced at an instructor whispering so we could not hear, then sneered.

"Our greedy top student plans to become ambidextrous. He's trying to show the instructors that he can handle not only unusual left-handers like you and me, but even those ordinary right-handers over there."

Where Historia stood for aura, Lankart stood for magic. He was her exact opposite in every way, the military state's lone mystery.

Lankart Spendry.

He was an arcanologist and a mage who had awakened innate arcane, a once-in-an-era genius already leading arcane officers despite technically belonging to Hamelin. Even the instructors found him difficult to deal with.

Of course, that did not apply to Historia.

"Left-hander, right-hander. You're making up words only you understand again. Lankart, isn't it uncomfortable living like that?"

"Bitch. You can't admit your ignorance, so you're changing the subject."

The genius of aura and the genius of magic. The twin pillars expected to lead the military state's future... snarled at each other every time they met. Historia crushed the canteen in her hand and glared at Lankart.

"You think Hui is some calculating, grade-obsessed freak like you?"

"No. He's far more obsessed with results than I am."

"You only see what you want to see."

"I'm still more objective than someone blinded by affection."

Lankart walked over without the slightest concern for Historia's sharp aura. Stepping boldly into her range, he gave a mocking sigh.

"The military state has plenty of aura users. No matter how strong you are, you pig, your limit is probably claiming one of the Five Generals' seats. You'll be important, sure, but you'll still be just an important part. You'll keep the enormous machine called the military state running properly, but even without you, the only difference will be its efficiency. Nothing else will change."

Anyone who viewed the world pessimistically and calculated everything would probably reach a perspective similar to Lankart's. To him, everything in the world was merely a phenomenon that could be explained, something to understand and use.

More mage-like than any mage, he looked at me as though he were looking at one of his own kind.

"Hui, on the other hand, has risen to a unique position. He's worse at magic than me and worse at aura than you... but he's knowledgeable in every field. He can place people where they are needed. He knows so much that even the riffraff like him. He can communicate with unusual cases like you and me. Hui is the only person with that kind of talent."

"...You're saying all of this is calculated behavior?"

"That's right. Hui intends to become the command headquarters itself."

It was not a guess but a certainty. Lankart said it without a shred of doubt. Anyone would think he was the mind reader.

Historia responded by picking at her ear.

"That sounds like something a frog in a well would say. I guess you think everyone is like you, so that's all you can see. You'd know if you had ever faced Hui yourself."

"Ah, I never expected a hardheaded idiot like you to understand."

"...Why is this failing student picking fights today? Do you want to die?"

Historia hurled the crumpled canteen at Lankart. It shot through the air with a loud crack, like a cannonball. If it struck someone, they would die instantly.

Yet neither Historia nor Lankart felt any real threat.

The canteen suddenly twisted through the air as though someone had grabbed it, then embedded itself in the nearby ground after smashing through it.

As though he had known from the start that the attack would not reach him, Lankart did not flinch.

"How barbaric. This is why I don't even want to talk to idiots."

"...You're nothing without magic."

The two always snarled at each other, but they had never actually come to blows. I had always mediated between them.

Today, though, I was tired. And if I stayed, Historia would drag me off and beat me up. So I left them to fight and quickly slipped away. Neither even noticed I was gone as they continued snarling.

I walked across the parade ground. Many emotions drifted among the children struggling to recover from the log jog amid the rustling sand.

Pain, suffering, jealousy, regret, fear, inferiority, and despair.

And resentment toward me.

Unlike the two with their brilliant talents, mine was more ambiguous.

Lankart and Historia had each reached heights nobody else could follow in magic and aura. They stood so far above the rest that no one could even dare look up at them, while I was only one or two steps ahead.

Nobody resented a natural disaster. People could not hold human emotions toward something too vast to comprehend.

Even if I was top of the class, they probably resented me more for struggling ahead right in front of them.

Dark emotions turned toward me. Instead of resenting the stars in the night sky that they could not hate, they resented ordinary me, the one who could mingle with them so easily.

I crossed the ground where those murky feelings swirled and headed toward the instructor calling for me.

Footnotes:

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