WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 34

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The Continent's Four Geniuses (1)

The Final Evaluation was over.

That meant the schedule at the Krono Fencing Hall branch was finished entirely.

The final interview with Hall Master Ian still remained, but it didn't really matter much.

Everything got decided at the Final Evaluation.

In this kind of situation, all the trainees could do was sit around blankly, roll around in their rooms, or swing their swords out of pure habit with their minds somewhere else.

But the instructors wouldn't leave them be like that.

"Trainee Gairan?"

"Y, yes?"

"Ah, no need to tense up. I'm not calling you for the final interview. I just have something to tell you."

"Ah..."

"The swordsmanship you showed at the Final Evaluation was impressive. A combo that made proper use of quick footwork. Fast enough to leave most people unable to think straight."

"Th, thank you."

"That said, I want to tell you a more efficient way to confuse an opponent's eyes. Mixing feints into real strikes, blending speed with misdirection, something like that..."

Ahmed, Karaka, Branden Phillips. Right down to the very end, they remained true educators.

The three of them hadn't used the Final Evaluation just to rank the trainees.

For days they'd gone without sleep, thinking and thinking again, until they'd worked out the right lesson for each child, and delivered it.

The trainees, called over on short notice, all left carrying full hearts once they'd received their teaching.

But that lasted only a moment.

Most of the trainees realized it.

This was the last teaching Krono Fencing Hall had to offer.

The time had come to leave the Hall and return to reality.

'Damn it...'

'It's really over now.'

Of course, the interview with the Hall Master hadn't even started yet.

But as mentioned before, the kids already had a rough idea of the outcome.

The last class, and the one before that, had each seen an average of twenty trainees chosen as formal students.

Which meant most of the children who fell short of that had no choice but to feel resigned.

"Hah. Still... it wasn't bad."

"I gained plenty. No, more than plenty."

"It's a shame. But I don't regret it. I gave it everything I had."

The trainees, having received the instructors' final gift, slowly began putting their hearts in order. As they did, they looked around every corner of Krono Fencing Hall.

The running course they'd raced along, the sand track that had drained every ounce of strength from them, the training room packed with every kind of equipment, the lounge that had been perfect for meditating.

They carved all of it deep into their hearts, so they wouldn't forget, even after returning to their own houses.

And the last place those children came to a stop.

The main training ground.

Looking at the massive scar carved into its center, most of them wore hollow smiles.

'Only kids on a completely different level, kids who could pull off swordsmanship like that, get to enter the greatest fencing hall on the continent.'

The lazy lord.

Airen Farreira.

Recalling the golden haired boy's name, the trainees could only shake their heads.

At first, they'd wondered what kind of person he even was.

Physical strength and stamina that didn't even reach an ordinary person's level.

He'd only picked up a sword a month ago, and before that, he'd been infamous as the laziest person in southern Hale Kingdom, a reputation bad enough to be talked about far and wide.

That was why everyone had treated him with mockery and contempt.

But that wasn't the truth. His true nature had been something else entirely.

'Is there anyone... who worked harder than that guy?'

'Not just among us. Search the whole world over, and would there even be one?'

Airen couldn't be described with a word like "tenacious."

Nothing could hold that absurd kid back.

Not regret over the past.

Not the horrific pain of the present.

Not even doubt and worry about the future, or the anxiety and despair that came with it, could stop him.

The obstacles that made countless others sit down and give up posed no barrier at all in front of Airen Farreira.

That was why, whenever the trainees thought of the lazy lord, the word effort came to mind before the word talent.

'Of course, he's a genius too, that much is true.'

That was also correct.

No matter how great Airen's effort was, no swordsman got completed by effort alone.

The strike he'd shown at the very end proved it.

No one but a genius could have shown a sword like that, one that made no sense at all.

'So what does that make him?

'Of course he's a genius. But he's also worked harder than anyone would guess, hard enough that the thought barely even comes to mind...'

'So then...'

A genius of effort.

That was the phrase the children, staring at the sword mark in the training ground, arrived at together, a word that fit the derogatory nickname "lazy lord" not at all.

But having watched him for a full year, the trainees had no choice but to agree.

They each pictured, one by one, the three geniuses who'd made a name for themselves across the continent in the last twenty years, and finally thought.

'The Fourth Genius of the Continent...'

* * *

The sword mark Airen Farreira had left on the main training ground.

The ones staring at it weren't only those about to leave the Hall.

If anything, the ones certain to become formal students watched the mark even longer.

Judith's case was the worst of all.

She'd already spent several hours with her eyes burning, watching it without a single word.

She didn't care who came near.

Not when other trainees came by, not when the hired assistant instructors stood beside her gasping in admiration, not even when Instructor Ahmed gave it a serious look before walking off.

Not even when the girl who'd taken first place in the Final Evaluation stood right beside her.

'...Did I really deserve first place?'

After a moment's thought, Illia Lindsay nodded. Yes. She had every right to first place.

It was the decision of Hall Master Ian, the greatest swordsman on the continent, no one less. She shouldn't doubt it.

But.

'The fact that Airen Farreira, that Airen Farreira's sword, chased right up under my chin, that's something I can't deny.'

It wasn't a welcome thought.

She'd held onto first place safely, but the result wasn't one she liked.

If this had been her final goal, fine, but she had a much bigger one than that.

Taking first place at the Final Evaluation was nothing more than a first step.

So allowing someone else to close in on her from the very start of the journey... was not a pleasant situation at all.

And yet.

'Why doesn't it feel bad?'

Still unable to tear her eyes from the sword mark, Illia thought back to the day of the Final Evaluation.

Right up until the moment before the test, his presence had felt faint, as if he existed somewhere between reality and illusion, but the instant his name was called, it surged out violently.

That force had felt as heavy as an iron clad giant rising to its feet. In that moment, Airen had become an entirely different being.

The boy didn't stop. No, he couldn't stop.

Whether what stood in his way was burning flame, a massive tidal wave, or even the storm ruling the sky itself.

He pushed forward without hesitation, gripped his sword. Swung it.

Having thought this far, Illia Lindsay nodded.

'I wasn't lacking. Airen was just that outstanding.'

That was it. She'd given everything, and shown a performance that wasn't lacking.

Even if she unleashed the Sky Sword again right now, she probably couldn't do better than she had that day.

And yet the match had come down to the wire, not because she'd fallen short.

It was because her opponent's skill had been outstanding. She admitted that honestly, and accepted it.

"Haah."

There was no need to tear herself down.

No intention to strike anyone else down either.

Once she'd reached that conclusion, her chest felt clear for the first time in a long while. Something that had been blocking her all this time felt like it had shattered.

Illia turned around with a faint smile on her face, the first in a long time. She wanted to grab anyone and talk about what she was feeling right now.

No, anyone might be a bit much.

If so, given the choice...

That was when the thought crossed her mind.

A blue haired boy standing a little way off from her.

The moment Illia spotted Brett Lloyd, the smile vanished from her face.

"..."

He'd been staring at the sword mark on the main training ground long before she'd arrived.

Probably even before Judith. She could just tell. Her expression turned pained.

'...Brett, and Judith too, neither of them were easy opponents.'

That was true.

Honestly, it had been unexpected.

She hadn't meant to look down on them, but she'd thought there was a considerable gap between them and herself.

And she'd thought three months would be far too short a time to close that gap. No, she'd been certain it would only grow wider.

But it hadn't.

The reason Illia had drawn out her house's sword hadn't been because of Airen Farreira alone.

'Telling him this now... probably won't help.'

After hesitating a moment, Illia pulled her gaze away from Brett.

It wasn't that she couldn't guess what he was feeling, but it wasn't something she could fix for him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Illia Lindsay left the main training ground. Then she moved quickly to find the person she wanted to meet.

It wasn't a difficult task.

What he'd be doing right now was obvious, and so was the place he'd be doing it.

Sure enough, the boy was deep in meditation in a corner of the small training ground.

An odd sight, sitting with his eyes closed, gripping a large sword in silence.

Illia let out a soft laugh and called out his name.

"Airen Farreira."

"..."

Slowly, the boy's eyes opened.

For a moment she felt an overwhelming presence, as if someone had stepped out from behind a curtain.

That state didn't hold for long.

As the seconds passed, the atmosphere shifted, and after a few moments, the familiar feeling Illia knew well settled back over him.

It was the real Airen Farreira.

'Strange.'

Airen at the Final Evaluation had felt similar to this. Only for a moment, but it had felt like he'd become an entirely different person.

Of course, that wasn't what mattered right now. The girl was here to talk with him.

Illia said, "Mind if I take a little of your time?"

"That's fine."

Airen nodded.

Honestly, he'd wanted to stay a little longer with the sword of the man from his dream, but not enough to turn down Illia's request.

The two of them naturally made their way to a bench and sat down, leaving a little distance between them.

After a few seconds of silence, Illia opened her mouth.

"I'm not staying at Krono Fencing Hall."

"What?"

"I'm leaving. I never planned to become a formal student in the first place. I meant to take first place at the Mid-Term Evaluation and the Final Evaluation, and... go straight back to my house."

Airen was startled.

Of course, Krono Fencing Hall might not mean much to Illia Lindsay. House Lindsay's own sword was among the finest on the continent, after all.

But if she'd never come at all, that would be one thing. Having enrolled and gone through a year of hardship, only to say she was heading back to her house, that raised questions he couldn't help but ask.

"Why, exactly?"

He had no choice but to ask.

Startled eyes, a startled voice.

Illia liked the boy's reaction.

If he'd asked in his usual calm way, she'd have felt fairly hurt. As much as she was conscious of him, she wanted him to be just as conscious of her.

Carrying that thought, the girl spoke again.

"Airen."

"Hm?"

"Do you know who the continent's greatest genius is?"

A topic that seemed to have nothing to do with the question at all.

But Airen didn't press her on it. Illia's face was far too serious for that. She turned her head slightly, looking up at the sky.

A moment later, the story of the monster the entire continent named first without hesitation began to unfold, slowly.

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