WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 286: To Grow a Tree (2)
──────
“Ha ha, shall we be off, then?”
A day after meeting Airen Farreira.
After staying in the territory for only a short while, the two Paladins departed.
It was not because they had pressing business. That was the excuse they gave, but the truth was that they were being considerate.
They had left quickly so Airen could focus on training without losing time, allowing him to shine at the Hero's Festival.
That was right.
Just as they had hoped, House Farreira's young hero had decided to participate.
That was why Gerald's master looked so happy.
‘He really does look happy.’
In the past, Gerald Mauser might have felt nothing but irritation at the sight.
What was so great about that kid?
Gerald might have grumbled over how impressive Airen could possibly be, that his master had traveled so far in such poor health for him, then turned right around without even resting for a few days.
But it was different now.
Gerald had realized it the moment he saw Airen's sword.
He had become certain after speaking with him.
And when he saw his master take up a sword again after three months, he had even shed a few tears.
Smiling, Gerald spoke to the driver.
“Let's go. Be especially careful not to let the carriage shake too much.”
“Yes, sir. I will do my best.”
“Ha ha, Gerald. It's all right. It truly is. You needn't be so considerate.”
“But...”
“I mean it. I'm in the best condition I've been in all year. If I could, I would walk and enjoy the scenery.”
Of course, that did not happen.
Perhaps the journey had exhausted him, but the elderly knight of the Purification Order quickly fell asleep.
The carriage's gentle swaying rocked the knight's body, but not enough to wake him, so Gerald remained still.
Instead, he watched his master's happy expression and fell into thought.
Ignet Crescentia.
Airen Farreira.
Without realizing it, he had been comparing the two. Startled, he muttered inwardly.
‘Just now, did I...’
Had he thought of the two together?
* * *
Whoosh.
Whooosh!
After the Paladins of the Holy Kingdom came to visit, Airen Farreira threw himself into sword training even more intensely than before.
It was not as though he had neglected his training until then, but he had indeed been focusing more heavily on the Five Elements Divine Technique.
‘Since I've decided to enter, I want to do well.’
Come to think of it, he had participated in a similar event in Aienmarc.
His thoughts briefly drifted to the past before turning to the meeting a week earlier.
Truthfully, Airen had not intended to participate in the Hero's Festival before they came to see him.
He had not seen any reason to do so.
A chance to make his name known throughout the continent and spread his reputation far and wide?
He had never cared much about that, then or now. To be honest, his rapidly growing fame was burdensome enough.
A chance to meet Ignet Crescentia, the wall he still wished to surpass?
That was not an issue either. It might sound arrogant, but if he wanted to spar, she would agree whenever he asked.
There was no need to have a special day and stage set aside.
The only thing that gave him pause was that the purpose of the Hero's Festival aligned perfectly with his convictions.
‘They say there will be more than twenty Masters besides me. Isn't that enough?’
If his participation would strengthen the message, then entering did not seem like a bad idea.
But many excellent swordsmen were already planning to participate. People so formidable that one empty spot would not even be noticeable.
Would it not be better to focus more on the Five Elements Divine Technique instead?
Would it not be better to focus on the tree, make up for what he lacked, and take time to cultivate himself, as he had sought Quincy Myers's understanding two years earlier?
That had been Airen's honest feeling.
But that thinking was completely overturned by the elderly knight of the Purification Order, who had grown pitifully frail in the brief time since Airen had last seen the knight.
It was overturned by a nameless hero whose bright eyes had remained unchanged despite it all.
‘You are extraordinary.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You are not a fool, so you must already know. You have earned no small amount of fame, so there must be many people clinging to you. You must have heard the honeyed words spilling from their mouths again and again. You probably worked hard not to become intoxicated by their sweetness. Arrogance breeds laziness, and laziness ruins heroes. But... do not do that. There is no need to force yourself to be humble.’
‘...’
‘No matter how highly you think of yourself, you are far greater than that.’
‘Um...’
‘Ah, there is no need to make excuses. Just keep quiet.’
‘...’
‘No, there is no need to say anything. Just follow me.’
‘Pardon? Where are we...’
‘The training grounds. I will show you with my sword. What I felt from you. What I received from you. What you... can convey to the continent.’
It was still vivid in his mind.
The elderly knight had finished speaking, risen from the seat, left the parlor, and walked toward the training grounds. The knight looked terribly unsteady.
It could not have been otherwise, because the knight was no longer a Sword Master.
The knight's crumbling body was barely supported by Aura, as though already at death's door.
But the moment the knight reached the training grounds and swung a sword.
The moment the knight expressed through that sword an answer clearly influenced by Airen, an answer to Airen's sword.
Airen could no longer try to dissuade the knight, worry for the knight, or deny the knight's words.
“A sword that gives hope.”
That was right.
The elderly knight was speaking of hope. The knight found joy through his own sword and sang of the future.
It was an answer that went far beyond how refined one's swordsmanship was or how strong one was.
Only then did Airen understand.
The purpose and intent of the tournament, which had felt somewhat abstract.
And the power his own sword possessed, which he had not been able to grasp objectively.
‘...The latter is actually pretty embarrassing.’
He had resolved to raise a sword for the world and sworn to devote his entire life to that cause.
But as time passed, he came to understand just how difficult that was.
It was different from the past, when he had spoken lightly without knowing anything.
Now, Airen waited for the right time with a calmer, firmer heart.
‘Fighting unfamiliar strong opponents is certainly enjoyable, and it's not as though I don't know the thrill of the crowd's cheers and excitement. It's not that I lack confidence in competing, either. Even if I lose, I am confident I will not be discouraged.’
Despite that confidence, his resolve had not taken shape because his ideals lay higher than the peak of any tournament.
But things were different now.
If, like the elderly knight of the Purification Order who had regained strength after seeing Airen and his sword, others could draw even a little strength from him...
If that allowed him to put his convictions into practice sooner than expected. If the Hero's Festival became a place to display convictions rather than swordsmanship.
‘Even if I'm still a little immature, I should find the courage to try.’
“Good. Shall I try again?”
Airen emerged from his thoughts and gripped his sword tightly.
Then he displayed everything he had learned so far.
No matter how lofty his ideals or grand his convictions, swordsmanship was the means by which he expressed them outwardly. He could not afford to treat it carelessly.
Whoosh.
Whooosh.
He swung his sword.
Endlessly, without rest.
The fundamentals he had learned at Krono Fencing Hall, and the principles of the heavy sword he had added after meeting Zet Frost.
The mindset and tactical exchanges he had learned from John Drew.
The Heart Sword he had learned from Ignet.
The swordsmanship of the Holy Kingdom he had learned from the Purification Order.
What he had learned while being battered by the head of House Lindsay, and the many things his friends had inspired in him.
And finally, the Five Elements Divine Technique, beginning with the Sword of Steel and ending with Wood energy...
No, beginning another cycle.
Surprisingly, he had made progress.
The progress was so fast that even Airen himself was surprised.
But it was only natural.
He had spent a year, no, even longer than that, nurturing his energy.
Like the tree growing in his heart, he had been ready to shoot upward with the slightest catalyst.
The elderly knight's visit had served as a catalyst for that growth.
And that was not the end of it.
More events followed, each one lighting a fire in Airen's heart.
“Young Master, a letter has arrived.”
“From whom? Ah...”
[See you at the top. - Brett Lloyd -]
[See you in the Holy Kingdom. And watch closely. I'm going to beat everyone up and win the championship. - Judith -]
As expected of a close couple, their short letters arrived on the same day at around the same time.
A smile bloomed across Airen's face.
He missed his friends.
It had been more than six months since he had last seen Brett, but he missed Judith most of all.
He had not seen her once since their sparring match at the beginning of the year before last.
‘I can't wait to see how much stronger she's become.’
A spark rose in Airen's heart.
Brett had made tremendous progress recently, while Judith had already shown signs of remarkable growth two years ago.
The thought of facing them in an official tournament match rather than a sparring match made his heart race.
Even apart from the purpose of the Hero's Festival, his chest burned with excitement. So much that he could not understand why he had not considered participating before.
But an even more important source of motivation remained.
A letter from his lover, Illia Lindsay.
“...”
The letter was not long.
There was nothing especially remarkable in it. Like Judith and Brett's letters, it simply said to meet at the Hero's Festival.
And, as always, there was Illia's distinctive expression of affection, dry on the surface yet deeply felt.
Airen read it over several times before carefully tucking it against his chest.
Then he began throwing himself into sword training with even greater passion, surpassing what he had previously considered his best effort.
“Mmm, love really is a wonderful thing.”
Lulu, who had been enjoying a rare moment of leisure, watched him for a while before drifting off for a nap.
Marcus, who still personally attended to his young master despite his age, watched Airen with a gentle smile.
Thus a day passed, then a week, then a month. About ten days remained before Airen was due to leave for Abilius, the Holy Kingdom.
“Young Master Farreira.”
“Hm?”
“While you were training, the blacksmith asked to see you for a moment.”
“Really? You mean Mr. Vulcanus?”
“Yes. He said it was not urgent and that he would return when you seemed free, but...”
As Airen Farreira was about to leave the training grounds for lunch, Marcus approached and spoke to him.
Come to think of it, it had been quite a while since he had seen Vulcanus.
They lived in the same territory, but ever since Vulcanus had seen Airen's Sorcery Greatsword, he had remained shut away in the smithy.
‘It feels like I keep making him wait.’
Airen scratched the back of his head sheepishly, then nodded.
“Got it. There is no need to make him wait. I'll go see him myself.”
“Understood.”
Marcus bowed and withdrew. After a quick meal, shower, and change of clothes, Airen headed to the smithy.
As usual, the blacksmiths were diligently continuing their work.
Vulcanus was no different.
Clang.
Clang, clang!
Bare-chested and hammering away without even noticing who had arrived, Vulcanus did not speak until thirty minutes after Airen arrived.
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
