WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Dionysus

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 217: We're All Getting Old (2)

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Kun radiated a ferocious fighting spirit.

Watching Kun, Ian let out a helpless laugh.

Ian must have heard the news as well.

That demons were on the rise. That the peace which had lasted for over a hundred and fifty years might come to an end. That help was needed.

Naturally, Kun did not care about any of that.

As Kun came flying at them with the same spirit shown when Kun had first challenged them, Ian thought,

‘Crazy bastard.’

At first, Ian had not understood.

Why was Kun so obsessed with them? Why did Kun need to pursue Ian alone, even at the cost of most of Kun’s life?

Why had Kun devoted himself to the sword and challenged Ian, practically throwing away everything, including Kun’s beautiful wife, Keira Fin, and vast wealth?

Ten years passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. Ian was now nearly a hundred years old.

‘Why?’

A smirk deepened on Ian’s lips. Uncontrollable fighting spirit poured from Ian’s body as Ian swung a sword.

‘That doesn’t matter anymore!’

Booooom!

Their swords collided.

The shockwave spread outward in rings, smashing rocks, trees, and everything else in the landscape alike.

Everything crumbled.

Yet Ian, standing at the center of it all, remained firm.

Kun had already retreated far away. Ian drew out even more power.

Wooooooooong!

It was enormous, beyond comparison with an ordinary Aura Sword.

The Aura blade, which had stretched nearly ten meters long, began to shrink.

No, it compressed.

The air trembled at the miracle that not even a Master, much less an Expert, could dare imitate.

Kun did not waver.

Kun looked exactly as before, with the same expression on Kun’s face.

Holding an Aura Sword that looked far more modest than Ian’s, Kun took a step forward.

Fwoosh!

Kun’s body vanished as though it had evaporated.

“Hoo.”

The Hall Master of Krono Fencing Hall awakened their senses.

Ian’s wide-open eyes, alert ears, and every other sense sharpened to their limits.

An amount of information far beyond what Kun could perceive flooded into Ian’s mind in real time.

That was not all.

The quantity of Aura.

The precision of Ian’s swordsmanship.

Ian lacked nothing a swordsman ought to possess.

Ian was confident they could smile and show any swordsman in the world the difference in their skill, even if Julius Hyul, the pride of the Holy Kingdom, came looking for them.

The great swordsmen of history might have been another matter, but there was no swordsman on the current continent stronger than Ian.

At least, that was what Ian believed.

Even so, there was one area where Ian had to concede one move, no, several.

Speed.

Boom!

Booom!

Bam!

Thunderous impacts rang out without pause. Footprint-shaped cracks appeared everywhere.

Kun was responsible for them.

The immense muscles covering Kun’s body.

The vast Aura filling Kun.

Everything that made up Kun, without exception, had evolved for one purpose alone.

To move quickly.

Kun’s chilling obsession and Effort had partially shattered the limits Kun had been born with.

Poor Aura control?

A lack of depth in Kun’s swordsmanship?

None of that mattered. Ian could not even see Kun’s other shortcomings.

There was only a sword honed to the very limit, all to pierce Ian.

To stop Kun’s sword, Ian had to give everything they had.

Crackle.

Crack.

“...”

Unable to even breathe properly, Ian kept twisting their body.

Losing in speed meant losing the initiative.

Losing the initiative meant having to react late, which meant having less time to make decisions.

Though Ian surpassed Kun in nearly every other way, that one deficiency put Ian at a disadvantage.

One late or wrong judgment would lead to defeat.

In such a dangerous situation,

Boom!

Booooom!

Booom!

Ian continued blocking Kun’s assault.

Ian stopped every sword strike coming from every direction without failing even once.

Ian had no choice.

Ian’s overwhelmingly keen senses fed them the right information.

Ian’s absurdly swift mind enabled quick decisions.

And the body forged from decades of experience and talent performed every movement required of it perfectly.

Ian displayed the most beautiful swordsmanship in Krono’s history.

In several exchanges, Ian even struck half a beat faster than Kun. Ian had clearly predicted Kun’s sword path.

It was judgment close to foresight.

Of course, that was as far as it went.

Ian had no trouble defending, but Ian’s absolute speed still fell short. Switching to the offensive was out of the question.

Still, Ian had a strategy of their own.

‘The blade.’

Other than speed, Ian surpassed Kun in every respect.

That meant the quantity of Aura and the density of Ian’s Aura Sword were on an entirely different level as well.

Was luck on Ian’s side today?

Ian realized they had struck the exact same spot on Kun’s sword several times.

It had not been intentional. Kun was not an opponent Ian could afford to watch that closely.

But now, Ian thought they needed to take a risk and aim for it.

Swoosh!

Kun attacked the instant Ian finished thinking. Ian focused with all their might.

Ian’s senses sharpened to the point where they could feel every cell in their muscles, ligaments, and joints.

Time stretched like cheese.

In the slowly moving world, Ian’s sword struck the spot they wanted.

Kaaang!

‘It worked!’

Ian felt it through their hand.

Ian leaped back, their expression remaining cautious.

Two more times.

No, if Ian drew out a little more Aura, they could break Kun’s weapon with just one more strike in the same place.

Ian kept their face composed and waited for the right time. In that brief instant, they exchanged seven moves.

Block. Block. Endure.

Duck under a strike, then block, block, block again.

Then Kun’s movement suddenly seemed to grow larger in Ian’s eyes.

It was a familiar sword path. Kun did not know it, but Ian had seen that habit several times.

It was a movement Ian had never revealed they had noticed, saving it for the moment of perfect victory.

Fwoooosh!

Ian thrust their sword with completely different momentum.

The timing was perfect. The counterattack was perfect.

As time slowed once more, Ian smiled faintly.

After three draws, Ian had regained the upper hand. For the first time in a long while, exhilarating joy ran through their body.

Ian’s gaze had already passed the blade and reached Kun’s eyes beyond it.

Then Ian sensed that something was wrong.

“...!”

Kun knew.

Kun knew Ian intended to break Kun’s sword.

They had crossed blades for decades. There was no way Kun could not read the thoughts in Ian’s eyes.

Then why?

Why was Kun moving exactly as Ian wanted, knowing Kun’s sword would break?

As Ian reached that point, a possibility suddenly came to them. Their eyes widened.

‘If Kun expects the sword to break and charges forward anyway...’

If Kun was prepared to suffer a grave injury, perhaps even lose an arm up to the shoulder.

Could Kun not drive the broken sword into Ian’s heart?

If that was the case...

‘Then I lose!’

Ian smiled.

It did not take long for suspicion to become certainty.

With their concentration at its peak and time moving slowly around them, Ian felt like giving Kun a thumbs-up.

Ordinarily, things would have been different.

If not for Ian’s concern for the next generation, for Airen.

Or if Ian had been given a little time to calm the impatience that concern had brought on...

The result would have been different.

Of course, that was only an excuse.

Ian watched their sword continue forward, unable to stop it. Ian watched Kun’s eyes.

Ian’s smile deepened. Their eyes curved until wrinkles gathered around them.

A moment later, the result came.

Crack!

“...”

“...”

Kun’s sword broke.

That much had gone as expected.

But what happened next was different.

Kun did not throw himself forward. Kun’s arm remained intact.

Ian looked at Kun, who silently held the sword broken in two, and spoke.

“Why?”

Why had Kun not gone for Ian’s life?

It was a natural question for someone who knew their rival’s nature.

Ian understood better than anyone what this battle with them, this victory, meant to Kun.

Yet Kun did not answer.

Instead, Kun asked a question of his own.

“Are you worried about your disciple?”

“...”

“Figures. What else could it be? You bastard. You were thinking about something else while fighting me?”

Ian had nothing to say.

Ian felt sorry for their rival. Ian felt pathetic themselves.

And though Ian had thought they had put it aside, their concern for their disciple had never faded.

As those emotions swirled within Ian and they stood there blankly, Kun casually tossed aside the broken sword and clicked Kun’s tongue.

“Spit it out.”

“Hm?”

“I said spit it out. Let’s hear what the hell has you so worked up.”

“...You’re going to counsel someone about their worries?”

About a disciple, no less?

Ian muttered with an incredulous look on their face.

Ian had spent over forty years as the Hall Master of Krono Fencing Hall, and this man, who had only just taken on a disciple, wanted to give Ian advice.

“Heh. Hehehehe!”

It was so ridiculous that Ian started laughing.

Still, it was not bad.

Seeing this unfamiliar side of their rival for the first time in decades eased some of Ian’s worries.

“Heh heh.”

Kun smiled back.

Kun could not help it. Kun did not understand himself either.

A little later, the two old men began talking about their disciples for the first time in their lives.

For men who had destroyed every bit of scenery around them, the mood was surprisingly warm.

* * *

“Hmm.”

Kun had thrown away the chance to pluck the sweet fruit of victory after losses had piled up so high that Kun could no longer remember them.

Kun scratched his head.

No matter how Kun thought about it, it was absurd.

After all...

“Cough!”

Drip, drip.

Kun was suffering from an incurable illness.

This was likely the strongest Kun would ever be in Kun’s life. As old age caught up with Kun, the sickness would only worsen.

In other words, Kun had thrown away Kun’s only chance to defeat Ian.

Why?

Because Ian had not looked well?

Or...

Because Kun feared that if Kun suffered grave injuries while already ill, Kun might die?

‘Bullshit.’

What nonsense.

If Kun could drive a sword into Ian’s heart and die from Kun’s own injuries afterward, Kun would welcome it.

That was no empty talk. Kun had swung a sword all this time with exactly that intention.

“Hmm.”

Kun groaned again and tilted his head.

Once to the right. Once to the left.

Kun kept thinking, and thinking, and thinking some more.

The large old man spent days mulling over the same thought as Kun returned to Kun’s home, where a red-haired swordswoman greeted Kun.

“Old man, why are you so late?”

“...”

“What? Why do you look like that?”

“You little bastard. Is that any way to speak to your Master?”

“No, you were teaching me swordsmanship, then suddenly shouted, ‘Now! It’s now!’ and ran off. You disappeared for half a month, then came back with that weird look on your face. Of course I’m asking.”

“Heh. Damn it...”

Kun let out a string of rough curses.

Now Kun understood.

No, perhaps Kun had known all along.

To teach Judith, who had a personality just like Kun’s and was drowning in pain much like Kun’s own.

Judith, who was more foul-tempered and more stubborn than Kun was...

‘I’ll have to live a little longer.’

Kun tilted his head again.

Kun had sensed it as soon as they met.

Judith was one of Kun’s kind.

There were many people who had gone through a hell similar to Kun’s, but Judith might be the only one who had suffered a hell as horrible and painful as Kun’s own.

But that alone was not enough to explain what Kun had done.

No matter how precious Judith was as the first disciple Kun had ever taken, Judith could not matter more than Kun’s lifelong wish.

“Why are you cursing at your dear disciple?”

“Hello? Hello?”

“Is it because I don’t call you Master?”

“Master? Master? Teacher?”

Kun frowned.

It was not because Judith was being annoying.

Kun just felt frustrated by Kun’s own actions, by thoughts Kun could not understand.

The conclusion Kun finally reached was neither thoughtful nor special.

Yet it was surprisingly close to the truth.

“Have I changed because I got old?”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, you bastard. Be quiet. Do you want a beating?”

“What kind of Master is this?”

They seemed more like friends than master and disciple.

Still, Judith and Kun suited that relationship well as they constantly threw insults at each other.

It did not continue forever.

Before long, Kun watched Judith swing a sword with eyes burning hotter than anyone’s, with passion even fiercer than Kun’s own.

The Master quietly nodded.

‘Still, it wasn’t a bad choice.’

* * *

“I’ve gotten old too.”

Ian muttered as they headed toward the Lake after parting with Kun.

No other words came to them.

Ian truly had grown old. Age had made Ian forget what mattered most.

‘My disciple trusted their Master, yet I could not trust my disciple.’

That should not have happened.

Even if no one else in the world believed in their disciple, Ian had to.

Especially when that disciple possessed one of the continent’s greatest talents.

Ian nodded as they thought,

‘Airen will do well.’

In the end, he would realize it.

It might take time. He might wander for quite a while.

But Airen would achieve it in the end. Ian’s role was to support and encourage him, so that process would not be too difficult or painful.

‘To hear this from Kun of all people...’

Ian let out a hearty laugh and shook their head.

It seemed Ian was not the only one who had grown old.

Having sorted out their thoughts, Ian shot forward at high speed.

Whoosh.

Fwoosh.

Perhaps because Ian’s heart felt lighter, their steps felt lighter than before as well.

Ian headed back to Airen faster than before.

No, Ian tried to.

More precisely, Ian had no choice but to stop near the Lake.

“...”

A vast curtain of darkness hung over it.

Feeling the Demonic aura that had swallowed the entire Lake, Ian’s expression hardened.

“How could this...”

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