WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 136

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The Third Storm (3)

Aura.

It was the power that swordsmen and other martial artists could earn through endless training, a mysterious force that stood alongside a mage's mana.

With it, a swordsman could tear an ancient tree out of the ground with bare strength, or split a massive boulder with a single strike.

Of course, seeing it with the naked eye was nearly impossible.

Simply pushing aura out from within the body was staggeringly difficult on its own, and compressing it into a visible, tangible form was harder still.

And yet.

"........."

Right now, aura that should have been invisible was visible to Airen Farreira's eyes.

It wasn't a case of a blade wrapped in aura, like what Charlot and Victor had done.

Outside of a Sword Master's Aura Sword, that kind of thing was mostly a waste of effort anyway.

Besides, neither of the two duelists on the field had the skill for it.

So what was he seeing, then?

Was the aura coiled inside their bodies simply entering his vision now, the way Sorcery might?

Startlingly enough, that was exactly what was happening.

The aura filling each duelist's body looked like water poured into a human-shaped container, packed full from head to toe.

He could even sense the density of it.

Faint as the difference was, the aura of the man holding the greatsword on the right looked slightly thicker.

While that thought crossed his mind, the two duelists were already sizing each other up with sharp eyes.

The greatsword wielder stood heavy and grounded, keeping his center steady, while the man with the lighter blade circled counterclockwise, step by step.

Most people watching wouldn't have caught it. Airen did.

The lighter swordsman was closing the distance bit by bit, spiraling inward like a slow whirlpool.

Fwoosh.

A moment later, the circling man shot forward all at once. It wasn't a straight charge.

Airen had already caught the feint before it happened, buried in the motion of his feet, the angle of his shoulder.

The greatsword wielder, robbed of his timing, snapped into position a beat too late. The opponent's blade came crashing down from above.

Clang!

Except it wasn't an overhead strike.

Right before impact, the blade changed course like a hawk swerving onto its prey, diving instead for the greatsword wielder's ankle.

Caught off guard, he wrenched his blade around just in time, and five exchanges flashed by in an instant.

Overall, the lighter swordsman was leading the fight.

Going purely by aura volume, the outcome should have run the other way, but Airen thought he understood why the flow had turned out like this.

He could feel, almost close enough to touch, the way aura moved inside both duelists.

"......!"

The aura filling their bodies wasn't just sitting there like water in a bowl.

It shifted, moment to moment, in step with each movement.

Whoosh!

As a sword swing came through, the light along the arm, the shoulder, the waist brightened.

Tap!

When the man pulled back to open distance, strength gathered in his legs, and the aura in his lower body flared with intense light.

It felt like watching countless muscles fire in complex, dynamic coordination just to complete a single motion, and Airen realized he'd felt something like this before.

Back at Krono Fencing Hall, when he'd studied other people's muscles and joints in painstaking detail.

The difference now was that he wasn't watching the body itself, but how the aura supporting that body actually worked.

Airen lost track of time entirely, watching the two duelists with total focus.

"Match over! The winner is Donovan!"

"Argh! My money!"

"Ha, told you! I said Donovan would win!"

"No way, that guy's got no business losing to someone half his size..."

"Since when does fighting come down to size? By that logic every woman swordsman out there would be at the bottom of the ranks."

"Shut up! You won money, so quit whining!"

"Not a chance! Not a chance! I'm having beef for dinner tonight thanks to this! Hahahaha!"

"You little..."

About five minutes later, the result finally settled.

Just as the early flow suggested, the lighter swordsman had won.

Airen sat quietly for a while, sorting through his thoughts, then nodded.

The greatsword wielder had more aura, but judging by how smoothly and precisely each man handled his own aura, the swordsman named Donovan came out ahead.

Swordsmanship mattered, sure, but it seemed right to say aura control had decided the match.

And for Airen, this was fantastic news.

He'd just glimpsed a path to closing the massive gap between himself and Illia Lindsay.

"Hup."

Airen kept his eyes on Donovan's body during the winner's interview.

Sure enough, the aura inside him came into view again.

It was calmer than during the fight, but Airen could feel it pulse faintly with every word, every gesture.

If I could reference this information in an actual fight...

He'd gain a huge edge in the mental game, in reading his opponent's next move.

Just look at the fight he'd watched moments ago.

Donovan had circled his opponent and thrown two feints, and the motion alone had been smooth enough to impress even Airen, who'd learned his share of tricks from John Drew.

There'd been almost no visible difference between the fake charges and the real one.

But the aura told a completely different story. Compared to the moment he'd truly committed, those two earlier feints barely showed any pulse of aura at all.

If I can learn to read that properly and put it to use, it'll be huge in a real fight.

Nodding once more, Airen Farreira rose from his seat.

A few people who looked like his fans were nearby, but he had no mind to spare for autographs.

He smiled, apologized, and hurried out of the arena, sorting through his thoughts as he went.

Eyes that could see straight through an opponent's aura.

He still didn't know if it was some form of Sorcery or simply his own sharpened senses pushed to their limit.

But that wasn't what mattered right now.

What mattered was mastering this newly awakened ability well enough to use it without hesitation, even mid-swordfight.

I need to go train right now.

With that resolve, he stepped out of the arena, and another familiar face caught his eye.

That blue hair, House Lloyd's signature trait.

Brett Lloyd.

Judith was nowhere in sight. Brett stood alone, and he'd already spotted Airen too.

Brett walked over, footsteps steady, and spoke.

"You came to watch the matches too."

"...Yeah. I was thinking there might be something to learn from watching the other duelists. What about you?"

"Same. King-level really is on another tier."

"Yeah, it is."

Airen agreed.

Both Donovan, the winner, and the greatsword wielder who'd lost held a level of skill that dwarfed the ranks below King.

While he nodded along with Brett's words, Airen noticed a sketchbook in Brett's left hand.

Confusion crossed Airen's face.

Brett must have felt the look, because he opened the sketchbook and spoke.

"I recorded what I felt watching the duelists, in my own way."

"...This is that?"

Airen asked, a beat late.

The page was covered edge to edge in blue lines, just like his own hair.

He had no idea what it was supposed to represent, but one thing was certain: it wasn't a well-drawn picture.

Brett really is odd sometimes, Airen thought. He's got this occasional weird streak.

Of course, it probably wasn't meaningless.

Over the past few months traveling with Brett Lloyd, Lulu and Kubharu had both said the same thing more than once.

That all three of them, Airen included, were remarkable in their own right, but Brett was probably the most complete on the mental side.

They'd said, more than once, that even if it wasn't obvious yet, he'd show them something incredible before long.

And now, Airen understood it too.

He couldn't put it into words exactly, but looking through Brett's eyes, he sensed something remarkably settled in the man's heart.

He didn't know the reason, of course.

Like the mood he'd sensed from Brett and Judith before, this feeling now was just as hazy and uncertain.

Come to think of it, where did Judith go?

"Wait, weren't you here with Judith?"

"Hm?"

"I saw her in the stands earlier."

Airen let the question slip out, following the thread of his own thoughts, and Brett fell silent for a moment.

The silence didn't last.

He closed the sketchbook and answered with his usual expression.

"She went to train. We only ran into each other by chance in the first place."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Like how you and I just ran into each other now."

"I see..."

Airen nodded again.

Something, something about it felt off in a way he couldn't quite name.

But he didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it, so he sent Brett off with a smile.

"Well, see you around. I need to hurry and get to training too."

"Got it. I'll stop by sometime soon."

Airen Farreira waved and vanished quickly.

Brett Lloyd watched his retreating back with a steady gaze.

...And a moment later, Judith reappeared from where she'd been hiding, stepping out in front of Brett.

"Why'd you suddenly hide?"

"Wh, what?"

"Were you hiding from Airen?"

"No? Huh? Airen was here? Didn't know. I was just in the bathroom."

"Hmm."

"...What, why! No... ugh, forget it. I'm off to train now."

"Locking yourself back in the training hall? Since you're already out, want to grab food together first?"

"No thanks. Airen's out there working that hard, I can't just sit around. I'm leaving!"

Judith raised her voice a notch and strode forward.

Brett watched her go, the same quiet look on his face as before.

Maybe she felt the gaze on her back.

Judith, already walking away, glanced back over her shoulder and added one more thing.

"...Next time there's a match worth watching, tell me. I'll come along."

"Sure. Let's go watch together next time."

"........."

She looked into Brett's eyes for a moment, then spun around sharply.

This time she didn't look back, disappearing into the crowd.

Left alone, House Lloyd's eldest son stood there, sketchbook in one hand, stroking his chin with an aristocratic air, and muttered to himself.

"Still a long way to go."

* * *

Three days passed.

In that time, Airen Farreira set aside even his discussions with John Drew, pouring himself into training so he could put his new "eyes that see aura" to use in real combat.

Fortunately, it wasn't especially hard.

Swinging a sword alone wasn't quite the same as an actual duel, but with two months still left, it didn't seem like it would be a problem.

Not that this made the skill's value any less, of course.

Eyes closed, Airen quietly replayed the duel he'd watched three days earlier.

The way the two duelists had handled their aura came back to him, clear enough to touch.

It's broadly similar to how I use it, but there are plenty of differences too.

The fundamentals matched.

Reinforcing physical strength through aura, hardening joints and muscles until they were tough and resilient.

That much he already put into practice himself.

But drilling down into exactly how aura moved to execute a single motion, the differences added up fast.

Some parts, he was better. Others, the King-level duelists had him beat.

If he corrected these things one by one, he'd probably be far stronger two months from now.

And more than that... those two aren't the only ones I can learn from.

Airen opened his eyes and looked at the calendar hanging in the corner of the training room.

February 13th.

The day Grayson, ranked fourth among even King-level's elite, would step onto the stage.

And the same day the Proof Land's reigning champion, Illia Lindsay, would step onto the stage as well.

"There's no way I'm missing this one."

Muttering firmly to himself, Airen washed up in a hurry and headed for the Proof Land.

Behind him, he heard John Drew's voice mutter, "I'm useless now, I'm... I'm useless...," but he had no energy left to spare for it.

Thanks to Hints pulling some strings, Airen settled into the premium seats he'd reserved and waited quietly for the match.

He was here to watch Illia Lindsay's sword.

To watch her movement, and further still, to observe her aura.

There was no end to what he might gain from that, but right now, one thing stood above everything else in Airen's mind.

The Aura Sword.

If he could watch the flow of aura at the moment she summoned it...

Maybe...

A chill ran through him.

Airen rubbed his arm slowly, trying to settle himself down.

It didn't work, of course. Not even after taking deep breaths, closing his eyes and opening them again, over and over.

In the end, unable to shake the excitement building inside him, he sat there with a slightly flushed face, staring at the stage for a good ten minutes.

"Waaah!"

"It's the champion!"

"Illia Lindsay! Illia Lindsay!"

"The west's finest talent!"

"The next generation's king!"

"Sword Master! The youngest Sword Master ever!"

"Champion! Champion! Champion!"

Just like the first time he'd seen her at Krono Fencing Hall.

No, with an even colder expression than back then, Illia Lindsay appeared, sword in hand.

And then.

Hummmm.

A silver, radiant Aura Sword appeared alongside her on the Proof Land's stage.

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