WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
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Chapter 259: Beneath the Flowing Water (2)
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"Hic."
The King of Hale hiccupped while watching the exchange between the Grand Mage and the Sword Master.
Fortunately, no one was looking at him. Everyone's attention was on the two of them, not him.
He covered his mouth with one hand. He felt his wife's gentle touch stroking his back, but his heart refused to settle.
'Is it really all right to refuse him in such a stiff tone?'
If anyone had been rude first, it was Ephrein Slick.
He had not picked a fight outright, but he had disrupted the mood with his arrogant behavior. More importantly, making such a blatant recruitment offer in front of the King himself was simply improper.
But the King of Hale worried far more about how Airen would handle it than Ephrein's rudeness.
However skilled Airen was, however brilliant his talent, however impressive the connections he had built, none of it could compare to Ephrein.
Behind him stood the head of House Slick, and beyond that, the protection of the superpower Runtel itself.
'Please, let nothing happen...'
The King wanted to stamp his feet. He could not, not while seated on his horse, so he merely fidgeted them.
His anxiety reached even the Commander and Vice Commander of the Twilight Order nearby.
But there was nothing they could do either.
Grand Mage or not, they wanted nothing more than to charge over and grab the man by the collar.
'In the end, all we can do is watch.'
Faced with the cold truth that stepping in at their level would accomplish nothing, the two of them gritted their teeth and watched Airen.
For now, trusting Airen was the only option left.
Just then, Ephrein Slick suddenly snapped his fingers.
Snap!
Zzzzzzt!
A white barrier spread out in an instant.
The delegates of the Four Kingdoms froze.
It was not an offensive spell, but the mere fact that a Grand Mage had cast magic was enough to alarm the already tense crowd.
'I can't see inside.'
'No sound either... What are we supposed to do?'
Neither Sonan Kingdom nor Köln Kingdom, nor even Hale and Bisau, which had brought along a Master and a Grand Mage, could take any action.
One of the sixty-four mages, who had stood like statues until then, stepped forward to speak on their behalf.
"Master wishes to have a quiet conversation. Please understand. If you find that difficult to accept, you may continue the hunt regardless."
"..."
Nobody could bring themselves to move.
Of course, there was one exception. Kiril Farreira.
But then.
Swoosh.
"..."
The moment all sixty-four mages turned to look at her at once, even someone as formidable as Kiril had no choice but to stop in her tracks.
"Kiril, let's watch for now."
"..."
Cesar's rising star swallowed her anger.
The pressure of the formidable mage corps and her father's request both played a part, but...
'He defeated an ancient demon. What could possibly happen to him?'
Her deep trust in Airen was the biggest reason of all.
"Hmph."
Kiril nodded and snorted.
Then she glared at the middle-aged mage who had stepped forward and at the rest, who were still staring her down.
Sssss...
A subtle magical power was seeping from the white barrier beneath her gaze.
* * *
"What is this?"
"I wanted a private conversation."
"I've said everything I need to say."
"I haven't finished."
"I don't want to speak with you."
"Why? Because of my attitude?"
"That's right."
"But I've never once been rude to you."
"To others..."
"They are different from you. I only show courtesy to those who deserve respect."
"..."
"In a way, we are alike. You've judged the sort of man I am in your own way too, haven't you? That is why you've been colder toward me than toward the others. It is the same for me. I judged the people gathered here by my own standards and treated them accordingly. If my attitude bothered anyone, they should have stepped forward and said something."
The old mage smirked and went on.
"But no one did. No courage. Or no ability."
"..."
"That is precisely why I cannot help but look down on them."
"...What is it you want to say?"
"I already told you. I want you to come to Runtel."
"We've already been over that..."
"The world calls the mages of House Slick arrogant."
"..."
"But I don't agree with that. We simply want to associate with people worthy of our abilities, exchange knowledge, build relationships, and grow. If a handful of people excluded from that great history misunderstand us, slander us, or insult us, I do not so much as blink. Nor do I bother doing them any harm. I simply let them bark."
Airen let out a sigh.
The thought he had before coming to the banquet had been right.
He had spent his whole life meeting and befriending genuinely good people. Standing before someone he simply could not reason with made that painfully clear.
'This is exhausting.'
But he had a feeling that not hearing the man out would lead to something even more exhausting.
Resigned, he let out another sigh.
Then he asked Ephrein Slick.
"Why would the great mage of House Slick want to bring me along? I'm not a mage."
"Runtel isn't home only to mages. We may be relatively lacking in swordsmen, but our swordsmen are formidable too. We even have three Masters."
"Then wouldn't that be enough?"
"It isn't enough. What we want isn't a Master. It's something beyond that."
"Beyond that would mean..."
"The birth of a great swordsmanship house, one that can stand alongside Runtel, Slick, and Corcoran. Greater than the Five Great Houses of the West... the beginning of a new history."
"..."
"And I believe you're the talent best suited to fill that role."
He meant it.
Ephrein Slick genuinely believed this mild-mannered young man carried that kind of potential within him.
Of course, no one could reach that alone.
The finest environment, one worthy of such tremendous potential.
The backing of the superpower Runtel itself was exactly the bargaining chip he had in mind.
"Countless geniuses have left their names in history, but not all of them managed to found great houses. That wasn't their fault, though. It was because the environments they lived in and the people around them were simply inadequate. Runtel is different."
A deep pride bloomed across Ephrein Slick's face.
A country of mages with no connection to swordsmanship?
Foolish people might think that way.
But it wasn't true.
The knowledge built through vast records, thorough analysis, and relentless experimentation did not apply only to magic.
It extended to the body, swordsmanship, and Aura.
He believed Runtel's methods were far more efficient than the Western fencing halls, which focused so heavily on abstract enlightenment.
'Sorcery and holy power. Set those two fields aside, and there is nothing Runtel's mages cannot conquer.'
It wasn't hope.
It wasn't a goal.
It was simply fact. A thin smile crossed Ephrein Slick's face as he spoke again.
"I know this isn't an easy decision. I know it's hard to cut ties with people close to you."
"..."
"But you need to decide wisely. Think it through seriously. Depending on who stands beside you, depending on what kind of backing supports you, your life and your swordsmanship will change entirely. If you have doubts, take your time and look things over before deciding. I promise you won't be disappointed. You'll love Runtel, without question."
Ephrein Slick's persuasion continued.
He spoke confidently, his eyes sharp with intent. He was completely different from the languid figure he had been only moments before.
He wasn't in any rush, though.
An immediate answer was probably too much to expect. That could not be helped.
Someone who had spent so long inside a well had no idea how wonderful the world outside could be.
This young man would need a little more time before he broke free of his shell.
'But he's worth waiting for. Unlike that commoner girl.'
A figure flickered through his mind.
He thought of Ignet, no, of the girl who was now Ignet Crescentia, and gave his head a small shake.
Back then, it had stung to lose her to Abilius, but in hindsight, he thought it had worked out for the best.
Unlike Ignet, Airen Farreira was known to have a mild temperament, and his bloodline was relatively better as well.
He would be far easier to manage without bringing any shame to Runtel's history.
Having thought this far, the old mage's smile deepened.
He would persuade him.
He would keep trying in every way he could until the young man's mind changed, until he had no choice but to change it.
Ephrein Slick was confident that, in the end, he would get exactly what he wanted.
That pleasant feeling cracked the moment he realized the young Sword Master's gaze was not on him at all.
'...What is he looking at?'
The Grand Mage's eyes wavered slightly as he followed the other man's line of sight.
A white barrier that completely separated the inside from the outside.
Airen looked as though he were staring straight through it, and that unsettled him.
'No, that's impossible. He isn't even a mage.'
Even a mage would struggle.
This was a spell cast by a man ranked among the continent's top ten. Sensing the magical power flowing along the ground beneath it through that barrier?
Impossible. Even Perry Martinez of Lavath would find it difficult.
Ephrein composed his expression to hide his unease, and Airen's gaze fixed on him again.
A moment later, the young Sword Master opened his mouth.
"Apologize."
"...For what?"
Ephrein Slick asked, his voice edged with disbelief.
It was absurd.
The man had stayed quiet this whole time, and now suddenly demanded an apology?
No, before that, his attitude itself was unacceptable.
He had sensed it from the start, but the young man's personality seemed quite different from what his research had told him.
Then Airen's voice rang out again.
"Apologize to the King of Hale. Apologize to the knight order that upholds Hale. Apologize to my father."
"..."
"You won't pretend not to know, will you? The environment I belong to, the kingdom I belong to, the house I belong to... and the parents who have embraced me more steadily and warmly than anyone else. You insulted all of them."
"...And if I can't?"
Anger crept across the Grand Mage's face.
He could not even manage a hollow laugh.
However formidable a swordsman he might be, however brilliant his talent, he was still nothing more than a green kid.
Give it ten years, twenty years, maybe. But Ephrein Slick was not the sort to let such words pass, even from a Master in his early twenties.
But Airen had no intention of letting it pass either.
"I'm challenging you to a duel."
"...I have no idea what's going through your head. They told me you'd never left your family estate as a child. Do you even understand what Runtel is? No, before that. Do you know anything about me at all?"
Honestly, he didn't.
But the man did not know much about him either.
Having thought it through, Airen Farreira thought of his friends. More precisely, he thought of something they had once said.
'Illia, Judith... It's been a while since I saw Judith. I wonder how her training is going.'
She was very dear to him.
Yet she had a fiery temperament and had provoked the people around her countless times, his red-haired friend.
Remembering one of her more provocative lines, Airen said this.
"Scared?"
"...You insane little swordsman."
Crack, craaack...
BOOM!
The white barrier shattered into countless pieces.
Slick's second-in-command stood before the crowd once more, his face twisted with fury as he nodded.
"Fine. I accept the duel."
Thud.
Hearing those words, the King of Hale dropped the bow he had been holding to the ground.
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