WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 7

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Krono Fencing Hall (1)

Krono Fencing Hall.

It was an organization that chose only talented children to teach, regardless of nationality, gender, or status, holding a reputation on a completely different level from every other fencing hall.

Simply graduating from the place, or even just becoming an official trainee, earned better treatment than most nobles received.

Its fame outshone most royal academies.

Any child with an ambition for the sword wanted to set foot inside.

But.

'...that's exactly why it's hard. Getting in. Staying in.'

That much was obvious. Only the brightest talents from every corner of the continent, among the finest young prospects, graduated from Krono Fencing Hall.

Those who fell behind in the competition had to return home in quiet defeat, carrying frustration and inferiority with them.

That was why Baron Farreira had agonized over it.

He had no choice but to agonize.

'Can Airen really survive that endless competition?'

Bran Sommerville's words had made him giddy. Just yesterday he'd stayed up all night, laughing to himself as he imagined his son becoming a splendid knight.

But the baron hadn't pushed.

He hadn't applied any quiet pressure either.

He knew how hard the path ahead of Airen would be.

His son had only just managed to step outside his room. The thought that he might crumble again held the baron back, so he'd simply asked, in a calm voice, what Airen wanted to do.

Two days passed.

"I'll try it," Airen said.

In the same calm voice.

But the baron saw a firmer expression than usual on his son's face, and he said nothing, only patted him on the shoulder.

It was the moment a bird that had never once thought of flying stepped out of its cage.

* * *

Clip clop, clip clop.

Late April, when even the last chill of early spring had faded completely.

The lazy young lord Airen Farreira left the Farreira territory for the first time in his life.

He was heading to the gathering point for Krono Fencing Hall trainees.

Arriving wasn't the end of it, of course.

He'd received a letter of recommendation from the wandering knight Bran Sommerville, but that only earned him the right to sit the trainee exam.

To formally enroll in the fencing hall, he had to endure a year of training.

And he had to post good results in two separate evaluations.

Remembering this, Airen closed his eyes for a moment.

'Can I actually do this?'

He didn't trust his own potential.

Except for the past month, he'd spent his entire life lying down or sitting still.

Wanting a high score after that was pure greed.

Still, Airen had accepted his father's proposal for two reasons.

The first was to turn this chance into a turning point for his life.

'This strange state I'm in now... I don't know how long it'll last.'

He wasn't lazy right now. If anything, he was more diligent than anyone.

But that wasn't thanks to his own will. It was purely the effect of that mysterious dream.

Which meant that if this unexplainable phenomenon ever ended, he could slide right back into his old, listless self.

'I don't want that. I don't want to sit around anymore. Not for my own sake, and not for the family that loves me either.'

They'd supported him for ten years, even after the childhood accident.

Airen wanted to stand before them as a son, a brother, they could be proud of.

To do that, he had to act now, while he still had even a flicker of will to move forward. No hesitation.

He had to push himself into a place where stopping wasn't an option.

"Whew."

Airen let out a breath.

A new environment, new people. For a boy who'd been shut up in his room, all of it weighed on him.

He'd forced himself to be brave, but the urge to turn the carriage around and go home kept flaring up even now.

But the second reason held that urge in check.

A fierce need to recreate the sword he'd seen in his dreams, in the real world.

For the past month, Airen had swung his sword like a man possessed.

Thanks to that, his stance had improved dramatically compared to when he'd first stepped into the training grounds, and he'd gained real strength too.

But it wasn't enough. Training alone in his family's training grounds had its limits.

The lazy young lord wanted to get closer to the man in his dreams. Closer to his sword.

It didn't matter whether that swordsmanship was extraordinary or ordinary.

And there was no question that Krono Fencing Hall was the best environment for that.

'So what did that man in my dream actually do?'

The boy knew almost nothing about him.

Why he trained with a sword, how long he'd trained, what he'd gained at the end of that grueling life.

That was part of why he rated his own potential so low.

He couldn't imagine that a man swinging a worn-out sword in some barren place had been anything special.

But it didn't matter.

The will and effort that man had passed on to him.

That was what gave Airen the strength to move forward.

That was enough.

Just as the lazy young lord finished his thoughts and slowly opened his eyes.

"We've arrived, young master."

The carriage had reached Krono Fencing Hall without him noticing.

This wasn't the main hall. Still, imposing buildings lined up one after another beyond the window, grand enough to make "branch" seem like an understatement.

Had they really invested this much just to train recruits?

Or had this place originally served some other purpose?

The thoughts crossed his mind briefly, then vanished. Not worth dwelling on.

Airen steadied his breathing, stepped down from the carriage, and spoke to the driver.

"Thanks. You can head back now."

"Shouldn't I escort you to the entrance, at least?"

"If that were the plan, I'd have come with the family. I'm just a trainee now. I should get used to doing things on my own, shouldn't I? Don't worry, go on ahead."

"...Understood. I hope you achieve something wonderful."

The driver answered politely, bowed, and left.

There was a faint smile on his lips, put there by how visibly different the young lord had become.

Airen didn't notice, of course. He watched the carriage pull away for a moment, then drew in another deep breath. And let it out.

Steeled by that resolve, he headed for the fencing hall's entrance.

A group of trainees who'd arrived earlier was already waiting out front.

"Ahem. This young man here is the young lord of House Lloyd, a distinguished house of the Gerbera Kingdom, Master Brett Lloyd. He comes recommended by the renowned Sir Kol Sweidi."

"Is that so! What an honor to welcome the noble bloodline of House Lloyd!"

"We've heard plenty about Sir Kol Sweidi's reputation as well! It feels like we're looking at a future graduate!"

"Hmph, hmph!"

House Lloyd was famous enough that even Airen recognized the name.

Calling them the real power behind Gerbera Kingdom wouldn't have been an exaggeration.

Every word and gesture carried the particular arrogance of high nobility.

No wonder the gatekeepers were falling over themselves.

They handed over a map of the fencing hall's grounds and ushered Brett Lloyd inside with elaborate courtesy.

Once the preening House Lloyd servants had finally left, it was Airen Farreira's turn.

He gave a small bow and spoke.

"I'm Airen Farreira, of House Farreira, Baron. I've come with a letter of recommendation from the wandering knight Sir Bran Sommerville. Pleased to meet you."

A plain introduction, with no boasting about himself or his house.

In truth, Airen could have bragged plenty if he'd wanted to.

House Farreira held the lowest rank among the five noble tiers, baron, but it was fairly wealthy thanks to heavy trade.

Of course, it couldn't compare to a powerful house like Lloyd from a major kingdom, but even commoners usually scrounged up something to boast about. His restraint stood out by comparison.

But that wealth was entirely his father's doing.

'I'm a noble who did nothing at all for ten years. Just a deadbeat.'

He had no right to strut in front of anyone.

Besides, Krono Fencing Hall didn't discriminate by status, age, or gender, so there was no reason to add anything extra.

Airen finished speaking and waited calmly, and the gatekeepers started fussing all over again.

"Ah, so you're the young master of House Farreira!"

"An honor to meet someone so distinguished. We know Sir Bran Sommerville well too. A fine man who's led the charge against demonkind for decades now! With a recommendation from someone like that, passing the exam should be a given!"

"Whatever the result, I intend to work hard."

"We're rooting for you. This is the map of the grounds, and this mark here is the auditorium. Good luck."

The gatekeepers bowed, and Airen bowed back.

The two watched the boy disappear through the doorway, then spoke to each other.

"Bran Sommerville, that old geezer, what's gotten into him? Writing a letter of recommendation."

"Right? And hey, isn't that kid the lazy young lord?"

"What's the lazy young lord?"

"You don't know? The deadbeat of House Farreira."

"No idea. Though looking at that body, I think I get it now."

"Yeah, he did look pretty frail. How on earth did he catch that stubborn old man's eye?"

The gatekeeper with the beard voiced his confusion. The one with the scarred eyebrow answered, unconcerned.

"Well, no need to wonder about it now. We'll find out soon enough."

"Fair enough. Ah, another one's coming."

"Looks like we're almost done for the day. Good, the faster they come, the better."

The moment another trainee approached, the fierce gleam in their eyes dimmed at once.

Back to their mild-mannered selves, the two greeted the new trainee with practiced courtesy.

* * *

The auditorium, the gathering point, turned out to be farther than expected. The grounds of the fencing hall were vast.

But the map was detailed enough that Airen never lost his way.

While taking in the strange structures around him, Airen Farreira found himself standing before the auditorium doors before he knew it.

Then, as if everything that had been fine until now had been a lie, a heavy pressure welled up in his chest.

'Calm down. Stay calm.'

There would be countless trainees inside.

And each one of them would have talent and effort behind them that he couldn't hope to match.

Some might have been called prodigies, geniuses, since childhood.

The exact opposite of him.

But did that matter?

'I'm not here to compete with other people.'

The boy stood here to break free of his old self, to live a better today than yesterday.

His only rival was himself.

Thinking that eased his mind considerably.

Just do his best. So there'd be no regrets.

With firm resolve, Airen pushed the door open.

The interior of the auditorium came into view.

"......"

And then, the gazes of countless people fixed on him.

The boy couldn't hide his bewilderment.

'What?'

Why is everyone looking at me?

Airen thought to himself.

It wasn't simply the reaction of a room noticing someone new walk in.

They were clearly showing interest in him specifically. Even though they had no way of knowing who he was.

"......"

Thankfully, none of them actually spoke to him directly.

If they had, Airen wouldn't have known how to answer.

He'd had almost no experience mingling with anyone outside his family, and the current situation was excruciating.

Even in silence, having hundreds of eyes sweep over him wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling.

Fortunately, the mood didn't last long.

Thud, thud.

"Hup!"

"Isn't that..."

"Wait, why's the gatekeeper..."

A middle aged man climbed onto the empty platform with heavy footsteps.

Not a single trainee failed to recognize his face.

They couldn't have, even if they'd wanted to.

The scar across the man's eyebrow was hard to forget, and barely two hours had passed since most of them had met him at the gate.

'Not a gatekeeper...'

'An instructor?'

As if answering the half formed doubts running through the trainees' minds, the scarred man stopped and spoke.

"Good to see you all. Trainees. Well, trainees to be."

"......"

"I'm the instructor who'll be teaching and evaluating you starting today. Ahmed."

Whoosh!

The brief introduction finished, and a surge of presence rolled off Instructor Ahmed's body.

It wasn't simple dignity or atmosphere.

It was an actual force bearing down on everyone present, and it spread through the assembled trainees in an instant.

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