WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 58

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Hidden Dragon of Hale Kingdom (2)

Vice Commander of the Twilight Order of Hale Kingdom, Hill Burnett.

He was strong. And young.

That combination meant talent most people could never dream of. Some even said Hill Burnett might one day reach the rank of Sword Master.

For a kingdom as small as Hale, a man like that was a treasure, plain and simple.

His house backed him too, which meant his influence inside the kingdom was nothing short of overwhelming.

A position no member of the Six Southern Houses, not one of whom even held an earldom, could hope to match.

But.

"For this Demonoid Subjugation, I'll be operating with only the forces I brought myself."

Even a man of his standing had crossed a line, saying something like that in the middle of a cheerful banquet.

The southern nobles all thought so.

However great his reputation, that kind of arrogance was too much!

There was no way they could just let it pass!

The instant that thought crossed their minds, energy surged out from Hill Burnett's body.

Fwoooosh.

"Ngh!"

"...!"

A pressure like the air itself had turned heavy.

Every face in the banquet hall went rigid. No one could bring themselves to speak.

The glorious Vice Commander of the Twilight Order wouldn't allow it.

With the hall gone silent, he continued, solemn.

"A Demonoid is an entirely different class of being from a monster. Far more horrific, far more vicious, far stronger. Even children know that much."

"And yet you southern nobles, who supposedly know everything worth knowing, seem to have missed it."

"But it's fine. My men and I marched the whole way to Gairon territory with our faith firm and our loyalty to the crown burning hot. We're more than ready to wipe out these vile Demonoids. However!"

"Joining forces with people who value personal honor over the continent's peace and the kingdom's safety... doesn't sit well with me."

"..."

"Something to say?"

Plenty. Every noble looking at the Vice Commander of the Twilight Order felt their gut boil.

But not one of them could say it out loud.

The mood that had flipped in an instant, the pressure steadily growing stronger, Hill Burnett's face as he swept his gaze across the room, looking like it wouldn't shed a single drop of blood even if struck. All of it was unbearable.

One, two, three, four, five.

Five seconds passed, and the Vice Commander let out a small sigh.

He pulled his gaze away from the nobles and turned to leave the hall.

Bang!

The sound of something striking the floor.

No, more than that, a crash loud enough to startle everyone in the hall.

It had come from Laiyan Gairon.

He'd dropped to one knee, driving down with force.

Hill Burnett's gaze turned naturally toward him.

He asked.

"You are?"

"Laiyan Gairon, eldest son of House Gairon."

"State your business."

"I won't make excuses. I apologize!"

He spoke in clipped words, then bowed his head low.

He felt a gaze on the back of his neck sharp enough to cut. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

But Laiyan Gairon didn't stop. He kept going.

"I can't speak for the others here, but I know I fell short. I was unprepared. Standing before a Demonoid, an enemy no one can afford to underestimate, I still let my guard slip. I won't make excuses for that."

"..."

"But I won't do it again. I won't make that mistake twice. Taking the Vice Commander and the knights of the Twilight Order as my mirror, I'll do everything in my power to steel my resolve, so that not a shred of carelessness remains in me. Please, give me a chance!"

Vwooom.

The moment his blood-boiling declaration ended.

The energy Hill Burnett had spread across the hall gathered into a single point.

The people who'd been suffocating under it finally felt their faces relax.

Except for Laiyan Gairon.

Because all of the Vice Commander's energy had converged on him alone.

He took more than mere pressure. It struck him like a physical blow.

His resolute expression twisted despite himself.

"...!"

Still, he didn't fully break.

Laiyan Gairon bit down inside his own mouth.

Blood welled out and ran down his chin, but the pain cleared his head.

He lifted his bowed head and looked up. His gaze burned.

Hill Burnett didn't look away.

For a moment, the two held their standoff.

Then.

Whoosh.

The pressure crushing down on Laiyan Gairon vanished.

Not only that. A faint smile even crept onto the Vice Commander's hardened face.

The mood in the hall eased.

Into that calmer air, Hill Burnett spoke, his voice gentler now.

"My apologies. That joke went a little too far."

"..."

"Refuse to let you all take part? I'd never do something that insane. If the heads of each house don't personally take part in putting down the Demonoid, how are the people of these territories supposed to live in peace?"

Still a barbed remark. It meant their forces wouldn't actually help much, but a joint operation would proceed anyway, for the sake of stabilizing the territory.

Still, none of the nobles could say a word.

The aftershock of what had just happened lingered too heavily.

And before that mood could fade, Hill Burnett left them with one last line.

"Of course, I meant it when I said you should never let your guard down against a Demonoid. All of you, please bring yourselves to peak condition before the day of the campaign."

Footsteps clicked away.

No one in the hall could stop the Vice Commander of the Twilight Order as he strode swiftly out.

They could only watch his retreating back. No small amount of tension lingered in every eye in the room.

Only one person kept the exact same expression as before, from start to finish.

A figure the crowd had all but forgotten by now. Airen Farreira.

* * *

Hill Burnett went straight back to his room.

His mood felt strange.

He couldn't tell whether to laugh or groan.

'Laiyan Gairon lives up to his reputation. A solid talent.'

He'd heard the rumors well enough.

That in southern Hale, there was a prodigy who'd graduated from the Royal Knight Academy with outstanding marks.

And that over the past few years, he'd shown even more impressive growth.

Certainly not bad.

If he kept growing like this, he thought, the man might well become one of the pillars supporting the kingdom's future.

'But the problem is, that one kid is the whole story.'

The old house heads had never interested him to begin with.

But the knights under them, and their young sons, he'd had expectations for.

He'd held out a small hope that there might be some hidden gem among them, someone the rumors hadn't caught wind of yet.

But it was a bust.

Not one person besides Laiyan Gairon had stepped forward to face him with any confidence.

They hadn't even managed to back him up, which meant the kingdom's future looked grim indeed.

He was in the middle of that thought when a soldier outside his door announced a visitor.

His face creased into a frown.

He wasn't in the mood for conversation right now.

But the moment he heard who the visitor was, that feeling washed clean away.

A short while later, watching the figure walk in with a cheerful grin, Hill Burnett shot up from his seat.

"Sir Miller! It's been far too long!"

"Ha, I've lost count of the years myself. Been keeping well?"

"Of course I have. But how did you know I was here...?"

"Ah! I didn't come looking for you on purpose, just happened to be passing through on business. I'm a bit busy, but I couldn't walk right past without stopping in. You got some time?"

"Of course I do. Sit, sit!"

A hulking man in his middle years, his face covered in scars.

The kind of rough look that could make anyone shrink back just from a glance.

But Hill Burnett respected this wandering knight from Gerbera more than any senior knight in his own kingdom.

His skill, his character, his sheer nerve.

And the heroic figure he'd cut during the joint subjugation campaign with Gerbera Kingdom.

'A man who's practically the model of what a knight should be.'

Recalling the past, Hill Burnett wore a soft smile.

Seeing it, Tom Miller scowled.

"Wipe that face off. Doesn't suit you."

"What, what's wrong with my face?"

"The pickiest man in all of Hale Kingdom, making that kind of dopey face? How am I not supposed to curse at you?"

"Pickiest man, honestly..."

Laughing despite himself, Hill Burnett kept the conversation going in good spirits.

An entirely different attitude from the one he'd shown in the banquet hall.

But this was closer to who he really was.

Strict and cold when it came to work, but around people he actually liked, he showed this far more human side.

About thirty minutes passed that way.

Sometimes listening to Tom Miller's stories, sometimes sharing his own.

Somewhere in the middle of all that back and forth, the topic of Tom Miller's disciple came up.

Hill Burnett said.

"Ah, I've heard the rumors well enough. Quite the prodigy, they say?"

"Prodigy's a strong word... well, I suppose I could say the kid has some talent worth using."

"Isn't that a bit stingy of you? Your disciple's standing out even among that monstrous golden generation of Krono, isn't he?"

"Eh, he's just a kid who couldn't even manage formal admission and got knocked out... though, well, I won't say he'd lose badly to the ones who did pass, at this point... hem, hem."

Tom Miller feigned modesty.

But he didn't outright deny what Hill Burnett said either.

Even by his own exacting standards, his disciple's talent was the kind that looked downright lovable.

'Well, it's not just my disciple, though. Krono Fencing Hall's 27th cohort... there isn't a single one among them who isn't a genius.'

The 27th cohort of Krono Fencing Hall.

Known by another name, Krono's golden generation, these young people had been the hottest topic across the continent for the past few years.

Every one of them, having finished a year of training and gone home, had shown explosive growth in their respective countries.

The storm they'd stirred up was so massive that even the prestigious houses of the Western Five Kingdoms, famous for producing Sword Masters generation after generation, had started openly watching them with wariness.

The truly striking part was this: every one of Krono's standout golden generation members putting on such an incredible show wasn't an 'official trainee.' Every single one of them was a 'washout.'

That had sparked no end of controversy at first.

One camp argued that Krono Fencing Hall's judgment had simply been poor, that they'd let real talent slip through their fingers. The other camp insisted the ones who'd actually passed were far superior to the washouts. The argument raged on and on.

But that controversy had washed away before long, clean as if it had never happened.

The prodigy of Adan Kingdom who'd taken first place, outright, in Krono Fencing Hall's Final Evaluation, and who'd then turned down formal admission anyway.

Illia Lindsay had pulled off an achievement bordering on absurd.

'Becoming an honorary knight of the Moonlight Knights, the strongest order in Adan Kingdom, at fourteen... "astonishing" doesn't even begin to cover it.'

Thinking of Adan's prodigy, Hill Burnett's expression hardened.

When had he himself reached that level?

Thirty? Older than that?

He couldn't say.

'A monster just as absurd as Ignet has appeared on this continent.'

Having thought that far, he gave his head a small shake.

He didn't want to dwell on it any longer. Chewing on it further would only leave him feeling more inadequate.

What mattered right now was that Tom Miller's disciple stood out even among that extraordinary golden generation of Krono.

Changing his expression, he picked the praise back up.

"Exactly. Well said. Setting aside Illia Lindsay, who's simply beyond common sense, I'd say your disciple could hold his own even against the 27th cohort's official trainees."

"Heh heh, you flatter me. But I won't say it doesn't feel good. Go on, a little more."

"I could say it ten times, a hundred times. Ahh, honestly, I envy you. Why doesn't our own Hale Kingdom have talent like that..."

Hill Burnett grumbled.

Laiyan Gairon, the one he'd just seen, was decent enough, sure, but next to Tom Miller's disciple, he was nothing worth mentioning.

There wasn't even anyone who could follow in his footsteps, and that grim thought wouldn't leave him.

But that thought lasted only a moment before his face shifted, a look of having slipped up.

It was a natural worry for a loyal subject thinking of his country, but he realized this wasn't the sort of thing to bring up while enjoying time with a respected senior he hadn't seen in years.

Now was the time for lighter conversation.

Quick to catch his own mistake, he was about to change the subject when Tom Miller cut in with a genuinely puzzled look.

"Huh? What do you mean by that? No talent?"

"Sir?"

"From what my disciple tells me, there's a monster out of Hale Kingdom who's on par with that Illia Lindsay."

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