WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
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Chapter 272: Uninvited Guest (5)
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Late at night.
In the center of the indoor training hall, a place only the direct bloodline of House Lindsay could enter, Illia Lindsay stood with her eyes closed.
Her thoughts naturally drifted back to the sparring match that had taken place that day... No, the fight.
It could not truly be called a sparring match.
It had been far too fierce for that.
Her father's sword had brimmed with killing intent, while Ignet Crescentia's sword had brimmed with venomous intent.
'No, is venomous intent really the right word?'
It had not been reckless bravado.
Ignet's skill still fell short of Joshua Lindsay's, that much was true, but the gap was not so wide that her efforts could be dismissed as foolish courage.
That alone was remarkable.
A whole generation separated them, yet her father had maintained a serious attitude from the first exchange to the last.
But that was not all.
In Illia's mind, every movement of the swordsmanship Ignet Crescentia had displayed began replaying without a single omission.
'Desperate, tenacious, venomous... Ignet's sword was far removed from such things.'
It made no sense.
To hold one's ground against a swordsman stronger than oneself, especially against the pinnacle of House Lindsay, who had infused the power of fierce winds into his blade, the thought of enduring no matter what should dominate the mind.
One had to plant one's feet firmly, clench one's grip, and struggle with all one's might so that one's foundation would not be torn out by the roots.
But Ignet had not been like that.
No matter how fierce the wind rushing toward her was.
No matter if a more violent storm, a massive typhoon, came crashing down upon her...
She had not wavered.
She had not been swept away.
She had shown only her own sword.
'Even until the moment she lost...'
Of course, the outcome had been her father's victory.
As time passed, his sword strikes had grown fiercer and more merciless, leaving Ignet bloodied and rolling across the floor.
And yet.
She had looked radiant.
Watching Ignet calmly accept the result without losing herself, Illia realized that she had been judging her incorrectly all along.
'She is far stronger than I thought. Like...'
Someone like a king, who never lost her dignity before anyone.
Having thought that far, Illia took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes.
"..."
Thoughts still raced through her mind.
Her father, swinging his sword with the intent to take a life.
Ignet, refusing to yield and fully displaying her skill.
In the past, Illia would have felt as though her chest were burning with anguish.
Even her father's Sky Sword, the ideal she had always admired, could not completely extinguish Ignet's brilliance.
But why?
Illia no longer felt impatient, distressed, or suffocated as she once had.
After thinking for a little longer, she finally found the answer.
Then she smiled.
Whoooosh!
Illia drew her sword and moved smoothly.
The Sky Sword.
It was House Lindsay's secret art, passed down only through its bloodline, a sword art created by the hero Dion Lindsay that any swordsman in the world would covet.
She had once longed for its overwhelming power.
The absolute violence that could topple mountains, sweep away seas, and sever the neck of a fortress-sized demon in a single stroke, she had desperately wanted it.
Not anymore.
What filled her heart now was neither demons, Ignet Crescentia, nor even her brother Carl Lindsay.
Airen Farreira.
Thinking of the person who had shown her a new world, Illia's swordsmanship deepened.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Whooooosh!
Wind rose.
It was quite different from what her father had shown in his duel with Ignet.
It was also very different from the records passed down through her family.
Her ancestors had described Dion Lindsay's swordsmanship this way, as the emperor's sword that would bring everything in the heavens to its knees.
She did not want that.
She had spent her entire life telling herself that she had to reach the founder's level to stand against Ignet, who was praised as being like the sun itself, but...
'I do not care about that anymore.'
Illia closed her eyes again.
Airen rose in her mind.
Not only his face, his gaze, and his awkward smile, but also the feelings in his gaze whenever he looked at her were clear as day.
Since when had it started?
What she felt from him was not merely a will of steel.
At times, she had seen a fighting spirit hot enough to rival Judith's.
When they met at her family estate, his presence had seeped into her like water, making her heart race.
Recently, he had become different again.
Someone as vast and steadfast as the earth, someone who could wholly embrace her feelings just as they were.
'I want to be like that too.'
Whooooosh...
Illia's sword flowed more slowly now.
It was nothing like what Joshua Lindsay had shown.
There was no fighting spirit that threatened to tear the world apart, nor any oppressive force meant to crush another.
What filled that space instead was softness and warmth.
Instead of looking down from the heavens, she became a lower sky, a familiar sky that embraced the earth.
The moment she made up her mind, a deeper wind began pouring from Illia's blade.
Wooooooosh!
The wind she created was on an entirely different level from the Aura that Experts released through Manifestation.
The brilliant silver light scattering around her was proof of that.
Energy dense enough to be called an Aura Sword if it wrapped around a blade filled the space around her.
"..."
Illia's body rose into the air.
It resembled what Joshua had shown when he knocked Airen unconscious in the past.
There was a difference in power, of course, but it was similar enough that the memory came rushing back unbidden.
But more important than that was this.
She had broken through the wall in the form that suited her best, not by following in someone else's footsteps, but in her own way and through her own realization.
And the head of House Lindsay, who had entered the training hall at some point, watched the scene in silence.
"..."
One hour.
Two hours.
Three hours.
A considerable amount of time passed, but Joshua did not move an inch as he watched his daughter.
He was deeply moved.
He could not suppress the joy swelling within him.
But even stronger than that was his relief.
A tear ran down his cheek as he recalled the duel from earlier.
'...Honestly, I regretted not stopping my daughter when she said she wanted to come and watch.'
That was how fierce Ignet Crescentia's sword had been.
Even against Airen Farreira, whose growth had been monstrous, Joshua could face him with room to spare. Yet he could not afford such ease against Ignet.
He had to keenly identify openings.
He had to engage in a battle of wits to create an advantage.
He had to conceal his weaknesses and make the most of his strengths.
That effort might not have been his absolute best, but no one could say that he had treated her carelessly.
That was why he had spared her.
Strictly speaking, she was not his son's enemy. More than that, he had genuinely admired her.
Setting aside the rise of demons and the crisis facing the continent...
He thought that crushing the future of history's greatest genius with his own hands was not something a swordsman should do.
And yet...
'She is not lacking.'
Joshua wiped away the tears still streaming down his face with his sleeve.
Was it because they were father and daughter?
Or had a brief intuition, said to visit only Sorcerers, come to him?
Through his daughter's swordsmanship, he could vaguely sense her heart and feelings.
Her sorrow over Carl Lindsay.
Her fixation on Ignet Crescentia.
Her slight resentment toward him for being especially harsh on her brother, her distrust of the world, and her distrust of herself.
Freed from all of that, Illia looked as free as the wind.
'Then what about me?'
The head of House Lindsay reflected upon himself once again.
Even after recognizing his own problem while watching Airen Farreira, who was far younger than him, a single word from Ignet challenging him to a duel had been enough to shake his composure.
He had felt it before the fight, during the fight, and after the fight.
He felt that he might never graduate from being a parent consumed by a child's fate. Other parents might manage it, but it seemed impossible for him.
Unless his son returned to how he had been in the past, Joshua thought he would never escape this shackle.
But that was not true.
His daughter had splendidly graduated from her past.
Illia Lindsay was swinging her sword with an expression of boundless happiness.
Watching her with warm eyes, Joshua made a vow.
From now on...
He would not do that anymore.
He would not bind the happiness of the present by clinging to an irretrievable past.
He would not worry about his daughter's future while dwelling on his son's past. He would think only good thoughts.
Carl Lindsay...
He would let him go now.
"..."
He truly would let him go.
The moment he thought that, Illia's body, which had risen about a meter into the air, descended to the floor.
She swayed slightly as she lost her balance, and Joshua moved as if flying toward her.
He quickly supported his daughter and asked,
"Are you all right?"
"...I think I am."
Illia paused for a moment, then slightly corrected herself.
"No, I feel good. Very good."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. It feels like something that had been knotted inside me all this time has just... flown away."
She meant it.
She wanted to express this truly refreshing feeling, but no suitable words came to mind.
After thinking for a moment, she said to her father,
"I'm sorry, but I want to meditate and sort out my thoughts."
"All right. We can talk later."
"Yes. Thank you, Dad."
Illia smiled and plopped down onto the floor.
It was rather unreserved behavior for a young lady, but that was all right.
His daughter was not a woman of high society. She was a knight.
A genius knight who was not inferior to Ignet Crescentia and whose name would be remembered in history.
Joshua watched his daughter consolidate her newfound insight with a warm smile.
He did not know it, but the knot in his own heart was slowly beginning to unravel as well.
And from afar, the Jester Demon's Duplicate, who had been watching the scene, spoke to a man.
"Oh, my. It is both a happy and a sad occasion."
"..."
"Your beloved younger sister has found happiness, and the father you respect so deeply is finding peace. Good, very good! I do love such a harmonious family. Though I am not sure whether it is something welcome from your perspective."
"..."
The man remained silent.
It was nothing unusual.
Nor was it unexpected. The man had always known that this day would come.
No, it would be more accurate to say that it had come much later than expected.
...But still.
The man was merely reminded once again that being forgotten by the people most precious to him was not a pleasant thing.
"Let us go."
The Priest rose from their seat.
The Jester rose as well. Without the Priest's abilities, which were unlike those of a demon, the Jester could not walk around so openly.
It was only right for the Jester to quietly follow behind the Priest.
The man was the same.
Someone who could no longer return to the past.
Someone who had no choice but to move forward, and no choice but to continue chasing the one he had pursued.
Carl Lindsay hid himself in the darkness where the sun did not shine.
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