WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 189

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What Happened (3)

The sorceress girl, Anya Marta, had no friends.

Ever since she'd first awakened her Sorcery as a small child, she'd done nothing but follow Ignet around.

She'd never particularly wanted friends, either.

The only people she ever got to meet were members of the Black Knight Order or priests of the Holy Kingdom, and neither group was any fun at all.

Georgu Poive was about the only one who could actually hold a conversation with her, and even calling him a friend felt like a stretch.

Which was exactly why Lulu, the one she'd met a year and a half ago, had come to mean so much to her.

'So cute!'

Soft, fluffy, warm. Even the way she acted was cute.

On top of all that, despite being a cat, she could talk like a person, and her skill with Sorcery rivaled Anya's own.

Lulu was simply someone she couldn't help but adore.

'I love her! Second only to the boss!'

And now that same Lulu had shown up looking even more astonishing than before.

Not as a cat, but in human form, with little horns and wings on top of it, walking right up to her.

Anya, who'd never once had a friend her own age, couldn't help breaking into a wide grin.

That happy feeling vanished the instant Lulu got angry, of course.

"Why'd you do it! You said we were friends, so why'd you bully me and Airen!"

"Huh? No I didn't! Anya never bullied anyone..."

"You went along with Ignet to bully Airen! He said he didn't want to go and you tried to drag him off anyway, and you punched him in the stomach and knocked him out! Don't you remember?"

Some of it she remembered. Some of it she didn't.

Actually, she had no memory at all of the boss punching Airen in the stomach. All that stuck in her head was being told to join the knight order.

'But that's not bullying, that's a really good thing, isn't it?'

To Anya, Ignet was the best person in the world, kinder and cooler than anyone else.

She'd been told to keep her mouth shut about it and had never told a soul, but someday Ignet would even take a king's throne.

Getting to stay with someone that amazing, how was that bullying?

That was how she felt, but Anya didn't have the confidence to lay out that whole line of thinking to Lulu in any coherent way.

"Sorry. I won't do it again."

"Don't care!"

"I'll tell the boss, I mean the commander, not to do that anymore! Let's play again! Let's be close friends!"

"Don't care! I'm still mad!"

"What do I have to do? What do I have to do to make Lulu feel better?"

"...I don't know that either! It's not going to get better today, anyway. Think hard about it before we meet again!"

With that, Lulu shifted back into a cat and vanished into the darkness.

Even in her stunned daze, Anya found some comfort in the words "before we meet again," and she trudged back to Georgu's quarters wondering, 'How do I make Lulu feel better?'

She'd gone there to ask an adult for advice.

And then she completely ignored every suggestion Georgu offered after much careful thought, and set about her own plan for reconciliation instead.

Namely, gifting the human-form Lulu a gorgeous dress.

"Lulu can wear clothes now, so if I give her a dress she'll love it! I bet she'd want to wear a white dress and play with Anya!"

"...If that's what you were going to do, why'd you even ask me."

"Because Georgu only ever says useless stuff! You're totally worthless!"

Anya scolded him with the shamelessness of someone caught in the wrong, then pulled a set of magical sewing tools out of thin air.

Beside her sat a heap of enchanted fabric obtained by smashing open the golden pig piggy bank.

Of course, she could have simply summoned the finished product outright.

Anya's golden pig was an all-purpose piggy bank that granted any wish, so long as the price was right.

But wishing for a finished product wasn't very efficient.

Summoning the materials and tools and making it herself, the way she was doing now, got her a better result for the same amount of gold.

"Gotta make it pretty. As pretty as my own dress."

Anya Marta bustled her small hands, hard at work on the dress.

It was an unbearably cute sight, but watching her, Georgu couldn't help feeling a little hurt.

The same kid who'd spent all of two gold coins on his birthday present was now sewing an outfit out of a hundred gold coins' worth of fabric, just to soothe some cat's temper.

'...Better think about something else.'

Stung by the relative injustice of it all, Georgu quietly retreated to bed.

He turned his back to Anya and let his mind drift to Airen Farreira.

'...Ridiculous kid.'

He'd heard the rumors. That Airen had reached the rank of Master. He remembered being floored by that at the time.

Airen had shown real conviction, holding his sword steady even against the commander's overwhelming presence, but even so, his growth had been absurdly fast.

And what he'd shown today had been even more absurd than that.

Closing his eyes, Georgu pictured Airen Farreira standing face to face with the commander.

"...Ridiculous kid."

"Oh come on! Be quiet! You're messing up my work!"

"Could you go do that in your own room?"

"No. So be quiet."

"...Fine."

Georgu sighed and let his thoughts continue.

Traveling alongside Ignet, and alongside a Sorcerer of tremendous talent, had naturally sharpened his eye for people.

Even so, he couldn't pin down where Airen's ceiling was.

What was certain was this: across her entire life, there were fewer than five people who'd ever drawn a reaction like that from the commander.

'Julius Hyul, Quincy Myers... I never saw it myself, but Hall Master Ian probably did too.'

Meeting someone, then retreating straight to her room to meditate.

Among the young, this was a first.

Thinking of how uncharacteristically delighted Ignet had looked, Georgu murmured under his breath.

"This expedition might turn out more fun than I expected."

"Georgu! Cut it out! Stop making things hard for Anya!"

"..."

Georgu pulled the blanket over his head.

Ignoring his sulking entirely, Anya kept her small hands busy without pause.

* * *

At that same hour.

Having slipped out of the banquet hall, Airen Farreira had also sunk into meditation, much like Ignet.

Their meeting had lasted only a moment, but the feelings she'd left in him were far from small.

A competitive fire, joy, longing, admiration, and a storm of other thoughts churned through his head all at once.

'Still, I should probably just be honestly glad, first and foremost.'

He thought back to the first time he'd met Ignet.

Back then, she hadn't seen him as himself at all, only as a trace of his past life, and that had left Airen with a bitter taste of defeat.

In a way, that feeling from back then was part of what had shaped him into who he was now.

Unlike before, he'd met her gaze this time standing tall, on equal footing, and Airen decided he could honestly give himself credit for that.

Of course, earning her recognition didn't mean everything was settled.

If anything, this was where the real beginning started.

Having thought this far, Airen Farreira rose from his seat and checked his surroundings.

Once he confirmed no one else was around, he summoned his Greatsword and began to swing.

Whoosh!

Whooosh!

'My ability still isn't enough to fulfill what I've set out to do.'

It wasn't for the sake of shining during the dungeon expedition.

It wasn't to climb to a rank above Ignet Crescentia, either.

The reason Airen pursued greater strength was to fully realize the resolve and conviction he'd forged in Durkali.

He still thought about it often.

If his strength had fallen short at Alhad Den, what outcome would have waited for him at the end of that?

If he'd been weaker than Grayson, whom he'd met in Aienmarc, could he still be traveling now, happily, alongside Lulu and Illia?

Certainly not.

'...Holding onto firm will and conviction, a clear purpose, that matters.'

But if the strength to achieve it fell short, then no matter how noble the purpose, it would all come to nothing in the end.

His eyes lit with resolve, Airen Farreira swung his sword harder still.

Fwoong!

He tempered the fierce will left behind by his past self, growing it firmer, hotter.

Fwooong!

Alongside it, he built up the strength of his body as well.

So that neither mind nor body would fall short of the other, he kept honing himself without rest.

He had to keep advancing.

He had to keep putting in the effort, without end.

A young man carrying a heart hot as flame, refining his sword with the bearing of a hero.

He didn't stop training until winter's long darkness had finally receded and the bright sun had risen into view.

'...Illia.'

Watching the brightening sky, Airen suddenly thought of Illia Lindsay.

He knew.

How much she'd agonized, how much courage it had taken her, just to reach this point, just to stand before Ignet Crescentia.

And he understood all too well how painful it must feel, after all that struggle, to be met with no reaction at all, not even the faintest flicker of interest.

If Ignet had responded to him the same way she once had, his own pride would have taken a serious blow too.

'But there's nothing I can do for her.'

He could walk beside his friend and cheer her on. He could take her hand whenever things got hard for her.

But in the end, it was Illia who had to take that step herself. That much, he couldn't do for her.

"..."

After turning his thoughts to his friend a while longer, Airen Farreira lowered his gaze from the sky.

Then he swung his sword again.

Just as he had yesterday. Just as he always did.

As his body moved, his eyes held something far weightier than worry for his friend. They held trust.

* * *

Two weeks passed since the Holy Kingdom of Abilius's forces had arrived.

Preparations for the dungeon expedition seemed to be moving forward smoothly.

But that was only true from the outside looking in. Beneath the surface, a constant tug of war of maneuvering and pressure continued without pause.

Even so, it had finally reached its final stage.

Passing over Lavath, Phalanke, and Calven, the three regions closest to the dungeon, Ignet Crescentia, Abilius's chief representative, had secured her place as the expedition's leader.

Naturally, no small number of people found this uncomfortable.

Abilius might be the greatest power on the continent, but the legitimate claim rested with the three kingdoms.

Directing the expedition and dividing the dungeon's rewards were said to be separate matters, but neither Lavath nor Phalanke were the type to sit quietly while control slipped out of their hands.

But after Ignet broke her brief seclusion to meet with the two kingdoms' representatives herself, instead of leaving the diplomatic work to Georgu as before.

"Thank you for your consideration."

"..."

"..."

No further friction arose over the question of command.

"Hah, hah."

Naturally, Airen Farreira paid none of that political maneuvering any mind at all.

Swish!

To drag his ideals down into reality.

Swiiish!

To keep his dreams from staying dreams.

Swiiiish!

To catch up to the spirit that had grown strong on firm conviction, Airen's body kept growing in turn. Evolving, day after day.

And so, at exactly twenty-four hours before the moment of departure.

"Hah."

Airen Farreira finally lowered his sword and let his thoughts drift back to the distant past.

He recalled his days as a probationary trainee at Krono Fencing Hall, the awakening that had come to him right before the Mid-Term Evaluation, and nodded quietly to himself.

"Good."

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