WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 161

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The Great Chieftain's Treasure (2)

If someone asked which nation on the continent owned the most precious treasures, which kingdom would come to mind first?

Most people would think of the Holy Kingdom of Abilius or the Runtel Kingdom in the continent's east.

The former boasted the longest history, so ancient relics filled its halls, and the latter had the most advanced magic, so all manner of astonishing objects kept pouring out of it by the hour.

But it was widely agreed that the treasure vault of the Durkali tribe, representative of the orcs, was just as formidable.

'Makes sense. Objects carrying the power of spirits are hard to find anywhere else on the continent.'

Following behind Tarakhan, Brett Lloyd thought this to himself.

It wasn't a common ability in the human world, but spirits existed, all the same.

Even if the world wasn't literally made of five elements the way the orcs claimed, the underlying power itself was real.

Of course, since it wasn't a discipline developed systematically like magic, and since it was a power that depended heavily on the individual, getting your hands on an object infused with spirit power wasn't necessarily cause for unqualified joy.

'Still, the chief wouldn't make such big promises if he meant to hand us something useless.'

Brett glanced sideways at Judith.

She still seemed to be nursing hurt feelings, not once turning to look at him. He made a bitter face and muttered to himself.

'I'll need to clear up the misunderstanding myself eventually, but I hope this, at least, lifts her mood a little.'

After walking a few more minutes, the door of the vault came into view.

A crude stone door, with nothing about it that could be called elegant.

But when Tarakhan pressed his palm against the handprint carving, brilliant light poured out, and the door transformed into something clean and striking enough to draw gasps from everyone.

Not that there was any reason to keep admiring it.

Tarakhan strode inside, and Airen's group followed.

The open door swung shut behind them automatically, as if refusing to let anyone else through.

Countless objects came into view, most of them weapons.

A battle axe that gave off an edge so sharp it felt freshly sharpened only yesterday.

A hammer so massive that three or four grown men together would struggle to lift it.

Beyond those, weapon after weapon lined the walls, each one radiating a sense of menace just from looking at it.

The armor pieces were no less striking, catching the eyes of Airen's group with their elegant craftsmanship.

But the moment Judith and Brett laid eyes on a pair of swords resting near the middle of the room, every other treasure they'd seen so far vanished from their minds entirely.

"The five spirits the orcs speak of, what we call the Five Elements, originally came from two great concepts. One holds a warmth like sunlight, and the other a coolness like shade. The legend passed down among us says that everything in the world arose from these two natures opposing each other, and sometimes depending on each other. Whether or not that's the whole truth, at the very least, these two energies are real. The warm side we call plus, or yang. The cold side, minus, or yin."

"........."

"And that's why these swords are called the Yin-Yang Swords. Well, some call them by simpler names too. Blue Sword, Red Sword. Honestly, those names roll off the tongue better."

"May I... touch them?"

Judith asked.

Her voice trembled despite how short the question was. It couldn't be helped.

Until now, she'd never felt anything more than the interest one might have in a tool, no matter what sword she looked at. But this was different.

It felt like finding a piece of herself she hadn't realized was missing.

Tarakhan nodded, and Judith carefully closed her hand around the red-hilted sword.

Fwoosh!

The instant she did, a sound like something igniting rang out, and the blade turned red.

Not the dark, dried-blood red of gore, but something bright and hot, like flame.

Watching Judith as warmth visibly spread through her body, Tarakhan spoke.

"I knew it would suit you. My father, myself, and plenty of orc warriors before you have all tried holding the red sword, hoping to become its master. None of us ever got a response like that."

"........."

"Would you like to try as well?"

Under Tarakhan's gaze, Brett belatedly picked up the blue-hilted sword.

A sound like rushing water followed, and a cool, clear energy spread through his entire body.

Brett stood there in a daze, staring at the blade that had turned blue, and the chief smiled and said,

"Those are yours now."

"Something this precious, we couldn't possibly..."

"We'll take it! Thank you soooo much!"

Judith's answer, closer to a shriek, drowned out the rest of Brett's sentence.

Brett stared at her, stunned.

Her eyes burned hotter than fire, and he couldn't get another word out.

Watching them, Tarakhan laughed heartily and continued.

"I have no intention of taking it back, so don't worry."

"But..."

"It's fine. I already told you. In anyone else's hands, it would just be a pearl cast before swine. This way, I actually come out ahead, getting to boast about something that's been sitting here unused all this time."

Of course, that wasn't remotely true.

Even accounting for how particular the swords were about their wielders, this was clearly something worth more than even a Vulcanus Numbering Sword.

"Honestly, even I was surprised. My brother did say they'd suit the two of you well, but I figured it would still be a stretch."

"Guess spirits and I just never got along," Tarakhan muttered briefly, and Brett and Judith wore complicated expressions as they watched him.

It wasn't only about Tarakhan. They were realizing all over again just how deeply Kubharu had been thinking of them.

'I hope things go well here too...'

'He's close with Tarakhan, so it should be fine, right? And Karakum seemed cold on the outside, but maybe not underneath.'

Picturing Kubharu, probably still catching up with his father somewhere, the two of them stood frozen for a while, swords in hand, like statues.

Of course, they didn't stay that way forever.

Lulu, perched on Airen's shoulder, hurried Tarakhan along.

"Me too, I want something like that too!"

Just moments earlier, he'd been fighting to keep his eyes open from the aftereffects of his transformation.

But the moment he saw the astonishing gifts Judith and Brett Lloyd received, his eyes went bright and sparkling as if nothing had ever been wrong.

"Hurry, hurry!"

Tarakhan let out a hearty laugh at the cat pestering him like a child and nodded.

"Right, everyone else should get their share too. I can't pick out something as perfectly matched as I did for these two, but whatever you choose is fine. Look around and pick whatever you like."

"Can I pick two?"

"No, you can't."

Tarakhan's face went stern, and Lulu drooped his head, looking crestfallen.

But a moment later, he was darting around the room without a care in the world again.

"This one's too heavy, this one's too sharp! Is there anything besides weapons? Ooh, this one's kind of pretty!"

"...Should we look too?"

"Let's."

"If I see something that'd suit you two, I'll let you know."

"I'll take a look myself."

The four of them tossed out a line each and scattered in every direction, and so began the treasure hunt for Airen and Illia.

But Airen, who was meant to be the one claiming a treasure, honestly didn't hold out much hope for himself.

He had little interest in material things to begin with, and the only category that mattered to him was weapons, but he already owned a sword finer than anything else here.

'Guess I'll look for some armor, then.'

With that thought, he looked around at various pieces, but nothing quite fit.

The leather armor he already wore had been made by Vulcanus himself, so the quality was excellent, but more than that, none of the armor here was the right size for him.

Since most of it had been made to fit the larger builds of orc warriors, finding something that actually fit proved far harder than it had been with the swords.

Airen ended up wandering aimlessly, his hopes lowered even further.

But a while later.

A necklace caught his eye, seemingly by chance, and held his attention.

"........."

There was nothing special about its appearance.

It had clearly been shaped by a craftsman's hand, finely worked, but at its core it looked like nothing more than a round stone.

It had none of the polish or luster one might expect from a gemstone.

But for some reason, it kept drawing his gaze back again and again.

'Sorcerer's instinct, maybe.'

Airen Farreira still felt a little embarrassed calling himself a Sorcerer.

But if even someone like him was getting this feeling, there had to be something to it.

And that wasn't all.

Lulu, who had wandered over without Airen noticing, was staring intently at the necklace too, and his voice came out certain when he spoke.

"I think Airen should pick this one."

"You know something about it?"

"No. Just a hunch. A hunch that it'll be good for you."

Coming from a Sorcerer far beyond his own level, that only made Airen more curious.

He looked toward Tarakhan as if asking for an explanation, and Tarakhan, frowning slightly, hesitated before speaking.

"I don't remember the details exactly, but supposedly it belonged to some skilled spirit mage and fortune-teller, from so long ago that not even the history books have a record of it. That's probably right, at least."

"Does it have something special about it, like the Yin-Yang Swords?"

"Not really... I heard once that it used to carry traces of all five elemental energies, but not anymore. Too much time has passed for that. I wouldn't particularly recommend it, but..."

Tarakhan glanced toward Lulu and continued.

"I can't very well ignore the instincts of a Sorcerer who stood toe to toe with my father. If you want it, take it."

"Heh heh, hehehe."

Taking Tarakhan's words as praise, Lulu grinned and spun through the air a few times before gently lifting the necklace and draping it around Airen's neck.

Since there was nothing especially distinctive about it, it didn't feel like much of an accessory, and nothing else about it stood out either.

It was a remarkably plain object to have come out of the Durkali treasure vault that so many coveted.

But the moment he put it on, Airen felt a strange sense of reassurance settle over him.

"Can I play with it sometimes too?"

"This?"

"Yeah. I don't really get it right now, but I feel like I might understand something if I look at it while transformed."

"Okay."

"Hm, now I'm curious myself. You there, Cat."

"My name is Lulu!"

"Ah, my apologies. Lulu, if you figure out something about this necklace, would you tell me the secret too?"

"Of course. I'll tell you second, once I know! Airen gets to know first."

"Ha, understood."

Tarakhan nodded readily, and Lulu, looking delighted, spun through the air once more before darting off again to search for a treasure of his own.

Thirty minutes later.

Once Tarakhan confirmed that the remaining two had also picked something out, he closed the vault door and said,

"It was good to meet you all. I'd like to talk more, but I hope you'll understand that I have to leave for now."

That much was to be expected.

His brother had returned to Durkali after seventeen years.

Even so, the fact that he'd made this much time for them was something to be grateful for.

Holding onto Tarakhan's kindness in their hearts, Airen's group followed a servant's guide back to their lodgings, exchanged a few brief words, and then each retired to their own room to sleep.

Of course, sleep didn't come easily to any of them right away.

Illia, especially, found herself wide awake.

'What kind of sword suits me... I wonder.'

Airen Farreira's golden Greatsword.

Brett Lloyd's blue sword and Judith's red one.

All three of them had found a sword that suited them, while she still hadn't.

Back in the vault, she'd simply picked up some ordinary dagger and left it at that.

Of course, she wasn't only talking about an actual sword.

Unlike the other three, Illia couldn't shake the feeling that she was wasting time, still unable to settle on even a general direction for her life.

'Lulu told me to empty my mind at times like this, but...'

Easier said than done.

After turning the thought over for a long while, Illia finally fell asleep near dawn, and dreamed of the mysterious fortune-teller master Kubharu had spoken of.

The orc in her dream wore a smile so deep it carved wrinkles into his face, and listened calmly to every worry she poured out.

Then he offered her a way through it.

Illia woke feeling like something tight and stifling in her chest had melted away, a cool relief spreading through her, and she managed a rueful smile.

'I can't remember a single word of what we talked about.'

Most dreams were like that, of course, but the sweetness of it had left such a strong impression that the loss felt sharper than usual.

Along with that, her anticipation for meeting Kubharu's master rose all over again.

She wasn't the type to put much stock in fortune-telling, but right now, Illia needed something, anything, to lean on.

But.

"...Turns out my master passed away a year ago."

When Kubharu came to find the group that morning and told them this, Illia felt an even deeper hollowness settle over her.

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