WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
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Chapter 281: The Fifth Energy (6)
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The Commander of the Black Knight Order returned from a long period of training.
Julius Hyul remained the greatest knight.
Both Quincy Myers, the former Red Knight Commander, and Alexis Christian, the current one, had shown far more than she had.
Even so, the Holy Kingdom gained courage beyond anything it had imagined through Ignet joining its ranks.
'Even if time passes, and the elders leading Abilius disappear...'
'It will be fine. There won't be any problem at all.'
Hope, and a future.
Holding the new flame she had brought in their hearts, the Order of Paladins set out to subjugate demons with even firmer resolve.
"Even so, surely they won't be able to find us all the way out here."
Despite the Holy Kingdom's rising momentum, the Priest paid it no mind.
This much had been expected. The Priest understood humanity's resilience better than anyone, so thorough preparations had already been made.
Recruiting the Jester Demon had also been part of the plan. Buying about a year's time was not difficult.
The Priest turned.
In a low voice, the Priest addressed the swordsman staring into the abyss with an expressionless face.
"Come in, Carl Lindsay."
With those words, the demon quietly disappeared into the pit, as though seeping into it.
Carl Lindsay watched the Priest's retreating back for a moment.
No. Carl kept his gaze fixed below, lost in thought.
Carl was no longer thinking of the family from whom he was now estranged.
Ignet Crescentia.
And Airen Farreira.
Remembering the battle from a few days ago, Carl slowly closed his eyes.
Astonishing talent.
Excellent skill.
But nothing that could compare to Ignet.
Just as Carl had suffered a miserable defeat, Airen too had been driven completely onto the defensive before losing consciousness. That was all there was to it.
And yet...
'Airen made her look back at him. Made her notice him.'
Carl Lindsay's memories traced back through the past.
Ignet had appeared like the wind, brought Carl down in an instant, then walked away with eyes devoid of any emotion.
As that memory crossed with what Carl had seen a few days ago, his heart churned. Feeling his chest tighten, Carl drew a heavy breath.
"...I'll make her look back at me."
Until she couldn't bear to do otherwise.
Carl would make it so.
Carl muttered quietly.
And kept muttering.
With that unceasing vow, Carl Lindsay threw himself into the abyss.
Watching the Priest's back, Carl gradually sank into darkness untouched by sunlight.
Carl could no longer remember clearly how or when he had come to walk this path.
But one thing was certain. There was no going back now.
...That was as far as the thought went.
Even the Jester Demon could not find the Priest, fully steeped in darkness, or Carl's figure for some time.
* * *
Two weeks after the duel with Ignet Crescentia.
Airen Farreira sank into a long meditation.
For three full days, he neither ate nor drank nor slept. He simply continued thinking and reflecting.
It was not that something was wrong.
He did not waver as he had when he first met her.
Nor was he anxious as he had been when he met her a second time.
He was simply thinking deeply about what effect the new stimulus that had flowed into him had on him.
'I still have a long way to go.'
The first thought that came to mind was, unsurprisingly, how remarkable a swordswoman she was.
He had achieved tremendous growth over the past few years.
It felt somewhat embarrassing to think so himself, but no one could deny it was true.
And yet, he had not been able to defeat Ignet. More than merely losing, it had been so one-sided that he felt the gap between them had only widened.
When he thought that neither he nor Illia could surpass her in talent alone, he let out a brief, dry laugh.
'That doesn't mean it's a problem.'
But he was not discouraged.
He had not taken up the sword to become the strongest swordsman.
Nor had he taken it up to defeat Ignet Crescentia.
Of course, he did not intend to ignore the fighting spirit and competitiveness that naturally arose within him.
But if he became consumed by those flames and forgot what was truly important, that would be the greater problem.
A thought he should always hold close.
A conviction he could forget if he briefly went in the wrong direction.
Recalling it once more, Airen Farreira finally emerged from his meditation.
"Oppa! You're awake?"
"Airen! Are you all right, Airen?"
"Are you okay?"
Kiril, Lulu, and his mother rushed over with worried expressions. A step behind them, his father watched Airen.
Their feelings flowing into him supported and healed Airen. He nodded and smiled.
"I'm fine. Sorry for worrying you."
His gratitude flowed back toward them as well.
That healthy, clear exchange of emotions, that circulation of the heart, safely restrained the flames that had nearly grown excessive.
The days that followed were ordinary.
Some days, he trained with his sword.
Some days, he went on outings with his family.
Some days, he spent time with Illia or crossed swords with Brett.
He spent less time with Lulu.
It seemed she had something to do and was frequently away from the territory. He found it a little strange, but figured she had a reason for not telling him, so he did not press her.
'Our feelings for each other haven't changed, after all.'
That was enough.
And so, time passed.
Whoooosh!
The seasons changed.
Airen's life remained much the same.
He swung his sword and spent time with those precious to him.
Of course, it was not completely the same. He saw Illia less often than before, and spent less time with Brett as well.
It seemed each of them had reached an important stage in their swordsmanship.
There was no problem with that.
As her lover, he did miss Illia, but it was bearable.
The words Illia had given him still flowed through his heart, and so did her feelings.
The stream that had grown through sharing love, swordsmanship, and many other things endlessly flowed through Airen.
And it was not only her feelings.
Compared to his days as the lazy lord, he now received the feelings of far more people.
Within Airen's soil, richly nourished by them, a small sprout began to grow.
Whooosh!
Whoooosh!
The seasons changed once more.
Nothing much changed. Unfortunately, the same was true of his swordsmanship.
He continued training without missing a single day, but there was no visible progress. Still, he did not feel impatient.
Of course, that did not mean he had completely let go or given up.
He needed to be wary of becoming consumed by competition and burning himself out, but there was no need to treat healthy ambition and fighting spirit as taboo.
'What was Ignet's swordsmanship like back then?'
In that sense, his spar with Ignet had been a great help.
If it had happened in the past, he might not have been able to endure it.
The Airen of his lazy-lord days would have bowed beneath that overwhelming heat and never risen again.
The Airen who had obsessed over the past and future while neglecting the present and those around him might have run into trouble as well.
But now, he was fine.
A stream that had grown wider.
Broad, solid earth that had grown enough to contain that stream.
The stimulus Ignet had sent into a heart like that felt less like flames that would ruin his world and more like warm sunlight shining down from the sky.
The sprout used even that as nourishment and slowly, very slowly, stretched toward the sky.
Whooosh.
Whoooosh!
Whooosh!
He was not yet aware of it.
He simply moved forward diligently and steadfastly, one day at a time.
Sometimes he felt disappointed, and sometimes the strain weighed him down, but in the grand scheme of things, those moments were brief.
As though nothing had happened, Airen pressed forward with a spirited heart. He moved. He swung his sword.
And so, once again, time passed.
A change came to House Farreira.
"Kiril? Your clothes are different from usual. Are you going somewhere...?"
"Huh? Oh! I have something to do. It's not particularly important, though..."
"Really? What is it...?"
"Yeah! I'll tell you later! Bye!"
Whooosh!
"..."
Airen wore a bewildered expression as he watched his little sister cut him off and fly away in a hurry.
That kind of reaction would have been unthinkable for the Kiril he used to know.
She had snapped at him or become irritated before, but she had never acted as though he was such a bother.
And Kiril was not the only one. Everyone else was the same.
At some point, his parents had begun leaving their children to their own devices while becoming absorbed in dating each other, and Lulu still rarely showed her face.
Even Marcus was the same. The man who had always stayed closest to care for him was busy managing the new servants.
But...
'That can happen.'
Airen did not think much of it.
It was not that they thought less of him.
If anything, it meant they trusted him.
If it had been his former self, the lazy lord who seemed so precarious that disaster might strike the moment anyone looked away, the others would never have treated him this way.
They would have set aside their own work and spent all day watching only him, anxious and on edge.
'When I think about it that way, I really have changed a lot.'
It was not only those around him who had changed.
Airen himself had changed greatly. Not only his actions, but his thoughts and heart had become much steadier.
It was true not only compared to his lazy-lord days, but even compared to the final part of his journey in Lloyd territory.
He had held the same great conviction then and now, but he was far more stable in the present.
'I'm no longer impatient, anxious, or worried.'
There had been a time when he repeatedly wondered whether he was holding onto an unattainable dream.
It had been a conviction beyond his station.
Who could cheer on such a resolve, one that shook his entire present life and exhausted even those watching him?
He understood now why Karakum had flown into a rage when Airen had dared to declare in Durkali that he would walk the hero's path.
That was right.
It was still a goal and dream some might call arrogant, but...
Now, he thought he could say it with greater confidence.
"I want to take up my sword for the world."
He was not saying it because he knew nothing and was intoxicated by stories of his Past Life.
He could be certain of it. He was far steadier than before.
That did not mean he had become perfect.
He was still lacking and insufficient. But he no longer needed to hide that and move forward alone in solitude.
He could accept the advice and help of others, exchange thoughts and convictions with them, and walk forward together with a calm, steady heart.
And so, he would seek his own happiness, the happiness of those around him, and eventually the happiness of the world.
Of course, it was still a long way off.
He had no idea how long it would take to reach that point, but...
He decided to relax a little.
He did not think everything was like that, but at least the conviction he carried...
'It is a conviction in which not only the result, but even the process of moving forward has value.'
Airen nodded, left the training grounds, and returned to his room.
Then he meditated while slowly continuing his train of thought.
It was a dream and conviction he had always carried, even before then.
But today, something was different.
Without realizing it, he entered his inner world, and something new came into view.
'...A tree.'
It had not grown alone.
Airen had exchanged feelings with countless people, and from that exchange, a stream had flowed.
Airen had cultivated broad soil and solid ground capable of holding that stream without strain.
That was right.
This was not a sprout he had raised alone. It was a sprout they had raised together.
That was why it was strong, healthy, and green.
Airen smiled.
The leaves glistening in the sunlight looked especially fresh.
Rustle...
It was barely waist-high, and its growth was frustratingly slow.
But that was all right. Fast would be nice, but being slow was not a problem. What mattered more was how straight it grew.
Keeping that in mind, Airen circulated the Five Elements Divine Technique. He circulated it with his heart.
The five energies had finally settled into place.
Metal, Fire, Water, Earth, Wood.
The formed circle flowed. It flowed, and flowed, and flowed again, growing deeper.
And so, time passed once more. About a year after his duel with Ignet.
A letter arrived for Airen Farreira.
"The Hero's... Festival?"
It was an invitation sent from Abilius in the Holy Kingdom.
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