WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 113

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Frightening, Vicious Bunch (2)

Gulp.

Hyram, watching the sparring match unfold, swallowed hard.

The fight between the three young swordsmen and Zet Frost had been nothing short of thrilling.

Three fighters, each of them strong in their own right, had thrown themselves at his friend with tight, coordinated attacks, and his friend had taken every one of those fierce blows head on and still come out on top. It was a genuinely impressive display of skill.

'Setting up this bet was worth it after all!'

But everything that starts has to end.

Once Brett Lloyd and Judith dropped out and only Airen Farreira remained, the match was, for all practical purposes, over.

At least, that was what Hyram thought.

Only a Sword Master could overwhelm Zet Frost one on one.

And yet...

'What is this feeling?'

Sweat beaded on Hyram's palms.

He didn't know exactly why. But he could feel, on instinct, that something enormous was happening.

Airen Farreira, right now, felt different somehow.

And Zet Frost recognized it far more clearly than he did.

'What now? What is this?'

Zet Frost was leagues beyond Hyram. Not just in swordwork, but in his ability to control and sense Aura.

Which was exactly why he could tell.

Just how terrifying the amount of Aura pouring out of Airen Farreira's body and gathering into his greatsword really was.

'Almost no waste at all. Pulling in that much should have his power spilling out everywhere on its own... and yet he's controlling even that!'

Truthfully, Zet Frost had already suspected Airen was holding something in reserve.

Unlike Brett Lloyd and Judith, who had actively used their Aura manifestations throughout, the blond kid had shown nothing but stubborn, straightforward swordwork the entire match.

That was exactly why Zet Frost had let him go first.

Whatever he was hiding, he wanted to see it now.

And then accept defeat with no regrets on his face!

But... something about the situation had gone strange.

Staring blankly at the last one standing, Zet Frost ground his teeth.

"Fine. Bring it!"

Fire lit in his eyes as he settled into a stance.

He pulled his Aura up to its limit and spread it through his whole body, boosting both power and durability. Then he sharpened his senses to their absolute peak.

It had been a long time since his competitive spirit had burned this hot.

Without even realizing it himself, the 101st-ranked swordsman fixed his gaze on the young genius.

"....."

Meeting that stare head on, Airen Farreira sank deeper and deeper into concentration.

Something felt different again.

It had been the same with Brett and Judith, but this time too, confidence welled up in him, a certainty that he could summon a force smoother and sharper than before.

No, more than that, he simply wanted, without condition, to end this bet with a win.

'This man is incredibly strong!'

He knew it now. How strong he was. How strong he'd become.

Not just from Hyram's words, either.

The Measurement Device score he'd posted, eight thousand points higher than his record in Alkantrea, proved as much.

And Zet Frost had overcome the combined assault of him, Brett, and Judith together.

Without even going all out.

Even in the middle of that fierce, brutal exchange of blades, Zet Frost hadn't lost sight of the purpose behind the sparring lesson.

And he'd delivered a brief but excellent lesson because of it.

'If I could learn under someone that incredible for a whole month...'

He had to earn that chance. No matter what.

Thought settled, Airen pulled his strength higher still.

Fwoooosh!

The flame in his heart grew stronger. A dormant passion woke and added fuel to the fire, and an unbending will hammered at his chest.

The iron stake, still too rough to call a sword, but one step closer to becoming one.

Picturing himself gripping it tight, the blond young man drew his sword back for a downward strike with everything he had, and just as he was about to swing.

"I surrender."

"....."

"I lose. I lose, all right? So... put that damned monstrous thing down."

"....."

"Put it down, now! Damn it, are you not putting it down?"

Cold sweat poured down Zet Frost's face as he spat out the curses.

'Can't do it. There's no way I take that hit!'

Watching Airen, who had blown far past anything he'd expected, Zet Frost dropped flat onto his back in the middle of the training hall.

Then he added one last line.

"Unless you want every swordsman in Partisan hunting you down for murder, that's enough."

"...I'll be in your care for the next month."

"In your care."

"In your caaaaare!"

Brett Lloyd and Judith bowed their heads along with Airen Farreira.

Zet Frost lifted his head just enough to look them over, and muttered to himself.

'Damn it all.'

* * *

The three against one sparring match ended without incident.

Zet Frost had blown past everyone's expectations by showing just how vast the gap in skill really was, and Airen Farreira had made even that gap look small, revealing a terrifying power that won the bet outright.

Hyram asked.

"So, what in the world was that? What exactly did you do?"

"Hahaha..."

"Don't try to understand it. This guy's completely out of his mind."

"Hard to argue with that."

"Heh heh..."

Hyram shook his head slowly.

It was absurd.

He'd already thought Airen was impressive, but he'd never dreamed he'd witness something this ridiculous.

A small, bitter feeling stirred in his chest too.

Thinking back to himself, past forty before he'd ever reached Expert rank, he felt a pang of something like deprivation.

But the feeling didn't last long.

Optimistic by nature, he told himself, well, that's just how it goes, and offered his congratulations to the three geniuses.

"Congratulations, at any rate. Getting to torment that lazy bastard for a whole month. My drink's going to taste better tonight."

"Thank you. Was that the honey wine you mentioned earlier? If it's all right, I'd like to try a little myself..."

Brett spoke up quickly. Judith shot him a look of pure disbelief at how fast the question came from someone usually as quiet as Airen.

Hyram laughed. He said,

"Sure, that's fine, but don't drink too much."

"Because of the training starting tomorrow?"

"That's right. Knowing Zet Frost's personality... he's probably drawn up a brutally tight schedule. Might even be worse than what I'm imagining. He'll want to see you three wear yourselves out and drop before he's satisfied."

He meant every word.

Of course, Zet Frost wasn't a bad person.

He wasn't the type to half-ass teaching someone, either.

But if the other three failed to meet his standards and ended up quitting partway through, he was more than ready to accept that outcome happily too.

Perhaps sensing that mood.

Judith, Airen, and Brett all nodded, their faces set hard, after hearing Hyram's words.

They looked like they were seriously considering just what kind of teaching awaited them from the swordsman who had beaten all three of them at once.

"Still, I think one bottle should be fine."

"....."

"If it's too much to spare, one glass is enough."

"...No, it's fine. Drink as much as you like."

That night, Brett Lloyd emptied three bottles of honey wine and went to bed with a happy smile on his face.

The next day, he showed up at Zet Frost's estate looking perfectly fine.

"You okay, Brett?"

"Of course. That wasn't even that strong a drink."

"...Seriously?"

Judith said, looking horrified.

It had been milder than what she'd had with Kubharu, sure, but by her own standards it was still a pretty strong drink.

But Brett genuinely looked completely unbothered, fresh as ever.

"Rookie. Don't put yourself on the same level as me."

"You absolute lunatic..."

"He's here."

Just as the two of them were about to start bickering again, Zet Frost appeared with a bald butler at his side.

His expression wasn't great. It seemed like the unplanned schedule change was seriously annoying him.

"Follow me."

Zet Frost said curtly and started walking somewhere.

The three of them trailed after him, taking in the grounds along the way. The estate was massive.

Honestly, it felt bigger than Krono Fencing Hall, and that wasn't much of an exaggeration.

Judith said,

"The house is huge."

"I hear that a lot."

"Are you rich?"

"I'm rich. Jealous?"

"I would've been, once. Not so much now."

Zet Frost glanced back over his shoulder. His look said he'd never met anyone stranger, but Judith meant it sincerely.

'Just what Lulu's given me as gifts alone would probably cover a life this comfortable.'

She thought, not for the first time, that the richest person on the continent might actually be Lulu.

While she was thinking that, they arrived at their destination.

A building covered wall to wall in strange geometric patterns.

Brett asked.

"Is that a magic circle?"

"Yeah. A conditioning room that adjusts gravity through magic. For the next month, mornings will always be spent training your bodies here."

"Ohh..."

Judith let out a low whistle of admiration, and Airen and Brett both looked equally fascinated.

She'd heard, once or twice, that extremely wealthy knights used spaces like this for training.

But this was the first time any of them had actually seen one.

Watching them, Zet Frost let out a short laugh.

Once he confirmed they were all inside, he activated the magic circle.

"Guh!"

"Ngh...!"

"This... is way rougher than I expected."

All three of them reacted instantly.

Judith's reaction was the most dramatic, but the other two didn't look much better.

The pressure was far heavier than any of them had anticipated, and watching them, Zet Frost laughed heartily.

"Good. Swordsmen who reach Expert rank tend to slack off on physical conditioning past a certain point. They start trying to replace everything with Aura. But your body has to be strong for Aura to work efficiently. And pushing through hardship like this is part of how the total amount of Aura grows, too."

Plenty of theories floated around about how a swordsman's total Aura capacity actually increased.

Some said physical conditioning itself had a direct effect. Others claimed it came from small and large realizations accumulated along the path toward higher levels, quietly surfacing as Aura over time.

Most swordsmen tended to believe in both explanations at once.

Airen, Brett, and Judith were no different. So none of them felt any particular urge to argue with what Zet Frost was saying.

If anything, seeing a conditioning room like this again after so long stirred up something close to nostalgia.

'Though this is definitely going to be brutal...'

The bald butler, who had approached while they weren't looking, handed out schedules, and all three clicked their tongues at the sight.

It was packed tight enough that even a full morning of hard, focused effort might not be enough to get through it all.

Zet Frost said,

"If you haven't finished by noon, I'll take it as a lack of will and mark you as failed. Complain all you want, just do it fast. Finish quick and rest, and I won't say a word."

"....."

"And don't even think about cutting corners. The butler here will be watching closely."

"Leave it to me."

The bald butler answered calmly, already settled into a plush chair, sipping a drink. He looked remarkably comfortable.

That spot was probably outside the reach of the magic circle's effects.

"Well then, I'll see you all at lunch."

With that, Zet Frost left the conditioning room, the corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

All three of them saw that expression, of course, but none of them said a word of complaint.

Whatever else was true, they'd agreed to follow Zet Frost for a full month.

And his teaching wasn't unreasonable, either.

His expression might have been irritating, but lending them a conditioning room powered by expensive magic was a clear gesture of goodwill.

"Damn it, let's do this."

"Let's go."

"We can't be groaning over something this small."

Judith, then Airen, then Brett, each steeled their resolve in turn.

Determination showed clearly in their eyes, and a firm resolve carried through in every step they took.

If they'd stayed quiet and simply focused on the tasks ahead, all three might have finished the morning's training without much trouble.

But Judith's provocation ruined everything.

"Whoever finishes last."

"....."

"Has to do whatever the fastest one asks, for the whole day?"

Airen and Brett exchanged a glance.

By then Judith had already sprinted to the equipment and started moving.

The other two scrambled to follow, throwing themselves into training right behind her.

A moment later, a hellish time attack began.

"Hah, haah, hah!"

"Hoop, hoooop!"

"Haa, haa..."

Three young swordsmen, drooling and pushing themselves through the training with total focus.

The butler, calmly sipping his drink, watched them with a blank expression.

* * *

"Ahh... damn, I overslept."

Zet Frost woke from his nap and checked the time.

One twenty in the afternoon. Frowning, he moved quickly toward the conditioning room.

He'd planned to arrive sharp at noon, feed them a quick lunch, and then work the three of them right after...

'Well... it's their first day, so I guess I can spare them an hour's rest.'

He hadn't for a second thought they'd have failed.

He might be lazy beyond hope these days, but there had been a time when he too had swung a sword with unshakable will.

Which was exactly why he could tell, just from their eyes.

They'd finish the schedule within the time limit, one way or another.

Barely, sure, but they would.

Thinking this, he quickened his pace and soon found himself in front of the conditioning room.

But there was no sign of the three of them.

'What? Are they resting inside?'

That seemed plausible enough.

The magic circle hadn't been shut off, but there was a spot inside untouched by the gravity effect.

Nodding to himself, Zet Frost pushed the door open and strode in.

Then he froze in place for a good five seconds, his expression locked.

"Guh, gruughh, uhhh..."

"Hnngh, hgh, uhhh..."

"Damn it, kuhhh, damn it..."

Sounds that could have been groans or battle cries, impossible to tell.

Breathing thick with curses.

The sounds came from Airen, Brett, and Judith.

The problem was, the time had already passed one twenty-five.

Zet Frost asked the butler.

"They didn't finish?"

"...All three finished before eleven. Airen Farreira, then Judith, then Brett Lloyd, in that order."

"...Before eleven?"

That fast?

Zet Frost shouted internally.

But an even more surprising answer followed right after.

"Well, at first they made a bet that whoever finished last would have to do whatever the fastest one asked. But it seems Brett Lloyd wasn't satisfied with the result, so he proposed another bet."

"What kind of bet?"

"Whoever completes the most tasks by the time you arrive, sir..."

"...Then why are they still going?"

"They seem too focused to have noticed you've arrived."

"....."

Zet Frost fell silent for a moment, looking at Judith.

Then at Brett Lloyd.

Then at Airen Farreira.

Not one of them was cutting corners. Even half out of their minds, all three were still giving everything they had.

"...Whew."

He shook his head with a sigh and thought to himself.

He was going to need to take these three a lot more seriously from now on.

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