WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 288: Countless (2)
──────
As mentioned before, the public simply preferred a rise-from-the-bottom story over an elite's guaranteed success.
That was exactly why Ignet Crescentia's story had spread across the continent so quickly. Her swordsmanship was what had raised her to the position of the strongest of the next generation, but that backstory had also contributed greatly to her fame.
Airen Farreira was no different.
Though born a noble, Airen had overcome a childhood filled with scorn and dismissal to rise to the position of Proof Land Champion.
His opponent had even been Illia Lindsay, the genius of the Five Great Sword Houses, arguably the finest elite the continent had to offer.
Add in a romance everyone couldn't get enough of, and reporters, led by senior journalist Hints, had poured out article after article on the subject.
People starving for gossip kept talking about Airen's story long after he had returned to his household, endlessly curious.
And then, beyond even that...
Impersonators started showing up.
'Well, I guess that happens.'
Ethan, the leader of the adventuring party that had just encountered yet another fake Airen, smiled faintly.
Was it because of how much Airen had wandered the continent? Or because people figured impersonating him carried less risk than impersonating some other high-ranking noble?
Whatever the reason, Airen Farreira had an unusually large number of impersonators.
It had died down some by now, but a year ago, mercenaries in their twenties, blond and good-looking, had been introducing themselves as Airen left and right.
A few serious ones had even brought along black cats from somewhere.
Of course, since the cats could not actually talk, they were quickly exposed.
'Still, compared to the ones I've seen before, this one isn't bad at all.'
Ethan looked over the blond young man.
Sunlight-warm blond hair, fair skin, a kind face, and a way of speaking that was not rough at all.
Out of all the Airen Farreira impersonators he had run into lately, this one came closest to the original.
Even the details on the Mercenary Plate were solid.
Alkantrea was where Krono Fencing Hall stood, so it was clear someone had put real effort into gathering information.
But still...
"Hey, kid. No matter how well you've copied everything else, you're missing something important. There's no cat."
"Huh? Cat?"
"Right! The Sorcery cat, Lulu! Who's going to believe you're Airen without a black cat tagging along?"
"Eh, isn't it better without one? Even if you had one, you'd be exposed the moment someone tried to make it talk."
"Well, I mean, that's true, but..."
"Hmm, is there really no way to talk your way around that?"
"..."
Airen stared blankly at the adventurers.
Without even waiting to hear an answer to their own question, the three men had launched straight into debating how to make the act more convincing.
Meanwhile, the elf woman looked thoroughly exhausted by the whole situation.
'This feels... kind of off, somehow.'
It was a relief that his real identity had not been discovered. If they were going to keep mistaking him like this on their own, he ought to welcome it.
And yet something about it stung.
Maybe it was the fact that he had apparently gained this many impersonators without even knowing it.
Or maybe it was their attitude, treating the idea that he could actually be the real Airen as something not even worth considering. That stung a little too.
"Um..."
"Hm?"
"What's wrong, kid?"
"Well, Lulu's been focusing on her Sorcery training lately, so..."
"..."
"..."
"That's why she's not traveling with me right now."
Crackle, pop.
Silence.
Stillness.
A heavy silence settled over the campsite.
Neither Ethan, the party leader, nor the others who had been chattering away so happily, nor the elf said a word.
Only the crackle of the campfire filled the quiet.
Of course, it did not last forever.
Vulcanus the Dwarf, who had been watching the whole exchange without a word, spoke up in a low voice.
"He's telling the truth. That fellow really is Airen Farreira. And I'm Vulcanus, the one who set out to study the world so I could forge him an even finer Numbering Sword. Vulcanus, the continent's greatest blacksmith."
"...Pfft."
"Pfft, kh, puhaha... puhahahaha!"
"Hahaha, wow, you two have quite the sense of humor. Ah, right! I did hear a rumor that this Airen fellow owns a Numbering Sword, didn't I?"
"Yeah, I heard that too. Something about switching between two swords, a Sorcery Greatsword and a Numbering Sword."
"Really? I heard it the other way, that the Sorcery Greatsword was made with a blacksmith's help."
"Both wrong. I haven't made a sword for this fellow yet. I'm still training so I can forge him something even finer than that Sorcery Greatsword."
"I see!"
"Wow, I had no idea about that part."
"Of course you didn't. I don't mix with people much."
"Wow, this kid's not bad, but the Dwarf's even better."
"Right? His acting is incredible."
The adventurers, playing along, kept marveling out loud.
Leaving out the Sorcery cat, since that would have given the game away instantly, and instead doubling down with the blacksmith Vulcanus impression to keep the bit going!
Truly, it was the finest impersonation act they had ever seen.
It did not even seem like a bad thing.
If they had been trying to gain something from it, that would have been one thing, but they were only using it for jokes. Genuinely excellent jokes, at that.
"This won't do. Can't have this much fun without some drink to go with it."
"Whoa, Ethan! Breaking out the good stuff?"
"Watch it, call me stingy and you get nothing."
"Sorry, boss, my bad."
"Hmph, if the drink's good enough, I might take a look at your sword later."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Bulkan!"
"Not Bulkan, Vulcanus. And this one's not Aaron, it's Airen."
"Ah, right. My apologies. I'll be careful not to mix those up again."
"..."
Watching them happily pass the bottle around among themselves, Airen fell quiet.
There was nothing to be done about it now. He had become a fake Airen Farreira, and Vulcanus had become a fake Vulcanus.
At least it was some relief that none of them seemed to mean any harm by it.
'Well, not all of them, maybe.'
Airen glanced over at the elf.
She looked like she did not care for any of this, poking at the campfire with a stick and saying nothing.
'...It should still be fine, though.'
Airen looked away and smiled.
Having given up on setting the record straight, he let himself get pulled into the adventurers' conversation too.
"Want to hear about the training I did with the 101st swordsman before I went to the Proof Land?"
* * *
'Did we really need to travel together?'
'Then give me a reason not to. You're not exactly the shy type, are you?'
'Why would I trust a bunch of people running around impersonating someone?'
'Come on, you saw it yourself. You know they don't mean any harm. They're just travelers doing a bit for laughs.'
'That's...'
'And you know how it is. The central continent has gotten just as dangerous as the south or west lately. Way I see it, those people have no idea how rough travel has gotten these days. It looks like they left their territory for the first time just to see the Hero's Festival, and if they run into the wrong Monster in that state, that's it for them. You want to watch people like that die on the road?'
'...'
'We're headed the same way anyway, so let's just travel together, all right? If anything weird happens along the way, or something feels off, I'll cut them loose right then.'
"Tch."
Jarin, the elf mage of the adventuring party, was not exactly comfortable with the company.
She understood what Ethan was getting at well enough. She just did not agree with it completely.
If they were only using it as a joke, her thinking went, they would not be carrying around such a well-crafted fake Mercenary Plate.
'Might look fine on the surface, but you never know what's underneath.'
Some caution was probably warranted.
Not that she was seriously worried. She was not the kind of elf who let just anyone get the drop on her.
And the same went for the rest of the party.
Ethan was a Sword Expert, no question there, and the other two carried silver-rank Mercenary Plates, proof enough of solid skill.
'Yeah, thinking about it that way, maybe I'm just overthinking this.'
Jarin glanced over at the blond young man.
He had a solid build. Maybe it was part of keeping the act going, but he carried a Greatsword on his back just like the real Airen supposedly did, and despite the considerable weight, he never showed the slightest strain.
But looking at that mild face, without a trace of an edge to it, she found it hard to believe he had the experience needed to con someone.
'If anything, if he's so hopeless that we end up having to look after him in every little way, that would be its own kind of headache...'
But most of that worry had faded away by the third day of traveling with the self-proclaimed Airen.
"I've been here before. There's a place called Katan's Table with pretty good food. Want to head there if that's fine with you?"
"I'll go gather some dry firewood."
"I'll handle dinner tonight."
"...?"
There was hardly a trace of inexperience in him.
Sure, she had figured that made sense in a city.
Someone born in the central continent would naturally know more than a group who had mostly worked in the south.
But she had never expected that even outside the city, sleeping rough on the road, he would instinctively find his place and pitch in to help the party without being asked.
Even the food tasted good. Good enough to hold its own against Giovanni, the party's designated cook.
Half-convinced and still doubtful, Ethan took a bite with no small amount of worry. Then his eyes went wide.
"Whoa, what? Didn't expect you to be this good. Did you actually learn this somewhere?"
"Yeah. Bit by bit, for about two years now."
"That's more than a bit. Carrying your own spices around, that takes real dedication."
"I worked at it. There was someone who always enjoyed eating it."
"Who?"
"Illia."
"Illia? Ah... pfft! No, wait, ha, kheh... come on, don't crack a joke like that while I'm eating. I've spilled everything now."
"Not a joke. Here, have another bowl. Would you like some too, Jarin?"
"...I'm good."
Watching the fake Airen look at her with that faint smile, Jarin turned her head away coldly.
Fine, not being dead weight for the party was a good thing.
But the way his jokes kept coming out so shamelessly, day after day, bothered her.
If they were simply unfunny, that would be one thing, but they kept landing at moments she never expected, and holding back a laugh got harder each time. That was exactly what made it worse.
'How does he say that stuff with such a straight face?'
That man was impossible to figure out in more ways than one.
She was still turning that thought over, head down, when it happened.
Jarin's ear twitched. Her expression hardened, and she shot to her feet, casting a spell of light into the air.
Cursed beings emerged from the shadows.
Skeletons.
Beasts that should have remained dead and unable to move, yet wandered the mortal world without rest, denied peace by the demonic aura clinging to them.
They had been almost nonexistent once, but on this increasingly troubled continent, they were no longer such a rare sight.
'Of all the times. I hadn't even finished eating...'
Fwoosh.
Fwsh, fwoosh, fwoosh.
Jarin swung her staff and conjured four fireballs. But the others moved faster than she did.
Before she knew it, the party members had already charged forward, not a trace of tension on any of their faces.
Though they were Beasts, Skeletons did not possess much combat strength.
A veteran group with an Expert in its ranks would never be shaken by them.
The problem was the two who had joined recently.
The malicious energy unique to Beasts, fundamentally different from ordinary Monsters.
Jarin had seen many people unfamiliar with it act rashly in situations like this. Carrying that worry, she glanced back.
"..."
She frowned at the sight of the Dwarf sitting there completely at ease, all by himself.
She was about to snap at him for how relaxed he looked when it happened.
Craaack!
The elf mage's head whipped around again. This time, toward the front. She saw the party members swinging their swords with obvious enthusiasm.
No, not just them.
Thud!
Thwack!
Crunch!
One strike, one kill, every time.
Even she, who knew nothing about swordwork, could tell that the Beasts were being dispatched with startling cleanness and precision.
And that was the impersonator doing it.
She stared at him, dumbfounded, when the Dwarf, still showing no sign of getting up, dropped a single line.
"Why are you so surprised? Could a Master not even manage that much?"
Jarin had nothing to say to that.
Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried
