WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 147: You Said You Liked It

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There had been no grand reason for the Sword Demon to settle in this forest five hundred years ago.

The Dark Age had lasted a full forty years. War had become ordinary, yet nowhere was there a proper all-out war. The conflicts that did break out were local skirmishes, and even those felt more like gestures than real wars.

That was what happened after forty years of fighting. Even the imperial royals who had opened the Dark Age wanted nothing more than to maintain the current state of affairs. The small nations established in the chaos, and the nobles who had expanded their territories, did not want to spend any more resources. Mercenaries who had filled their bellies dreamed of retirement one after another. It was also the time when Cyrus's organization, the Crows, sought to become more than a mercenary band and grow into a corporation.

In such an age, the one place where a war still seemed possible was the west. In the south, the resistance from the natives of the Avara Plateau was too fierce for war to even seem likely. In the west, though, Demihumans had gathered together and were busy trying to form a union of their own.

A major war might break out again someday. That possibility was strong in the north as well, but to the Sword Demon at the time, the west, full of Demihumans longing for a nation of their own, carried a stronger scent of war than the Demon King, who might invade at any moment.

'In the end, I never got to see that war.'

Looking back, all of that had been an excuse. He had wandered battlefields for decades and earned the name Sword Demon. At some point, he had gathered a great number of followers, and no matter how often he tried to shake them off, they clung to him like leeches.

It had become tiresome to keep driving them away. After decades of roaming battlefields and killing people, he had not grown disgusted enough to call it disillusionment, but he had gotten tired of it. The sword he had swung so eagerly all those years was still beloved and entertaining, but perhaps because the Sword Demon had grown older, his feelings had changed somewhat.

He no longer wanted a noisy battlefield thick with the smell of blood. He wanted somewhere peaceful and quiet, where he could reflect upon the sword he had pursued all that time.

'Come to think of it, that was an excuse too. There just... wasn't a battlefield that drew me in anymore.'

He had picked up a little tagalong as well. A little elf he had happened to take in from a slave market. Picking up and raising even a puppy created a sense of responsibility, and now he was caring for an elf capable of conversation. She never complained that her legs hurt, no matter how tirelessly they traveled, and there was not a trace of childishness in her. Yet it had bothered him to see her stubbornly trying to follow him even when she was too exhausted to walk any farther, even when the blisters on her soles had burst and blood was streaming down them, without letting out a single groan.

That was why he settled in the forest. It was a fairly decent forest. Peaceful, with a lake. It did not smell of blood.

"..."

Had he lived there for about five years? Kyle descended to the ground and looked at the forest, Sword Grove.

It would take over ten days on horseback to travel from Karent's western gate to Sword Grove, but Kyle had flown here. When he had first learned how to fly, he could not understand how a human being could possibly take to the sky. Now, Kyle could fly as well.

He was not as fast as Helenas, so she had helped him on this occasion.

"Welcome to Sword Grove."

Obion, who had arrived with them, spoke with a gentle smile.

"Young Master is the second member of Alastor to visit Sword Grove."

"I heard from my grandfather that he came to Sword Grove twice in the past."

"Yes. The first time was to challenge the Church Master. The second was to ask how he could awaken Lady Alastor."

"It looks peaceful... quiet, too. Nice."

There was no sign of anyone within the forest. Five hundred years ago, more than a hundred followers had lived here. Now, only Helenas and the Apostles lived in Sword Grove.

There was a small village outside the forest instead. Obion noticed Kyle looking in that direction and spoke.

"The purple pauldron members of the Church live there."

A purple pauldron was the rank directly below Apostle in the Sword Church. Some were Apostles' disciples, while others served directly under an Apostle's orders.

"Do I have to stay there too?"

"Ha ha, you are an honored guest, so there is no need for that. Young Master may stay anywhere you wish within Sword Grove."

"You can stay at my house."

Helenas answered. She tightly held Kyle's hand and whispered.

"Because it's our house."

Strictly speaking, she was not wrong. The hut in Sword Grove where Helenas lived was the home where only the Sword Demon and Helenas had lived five hundred years ago.

The Apostles, who did not know that history, could not help wearing strange expressions. Lamika clenched her fist tightly as a pang went through her chest, while Ronia and Evan looked back and forth between Kyle and Helenas with disbelieving faces.

"Is that their newlywed home...?"

Tebar muttered with an awkward expression. Kyle only swallowed the sigh rising in his throat and did not bother correcting him.

Sword Grove had changed compared to five hundred years ago. So much time had passed that the trees had grown thicker, making the forest seem larger than it had in his memories.

The huts where his followers had lived had changed as well. It was surprising that the huts remained at all.

"These are the huts where the Sword Demon's followers lived in the distant past. The Apostles live in them now."

Obion explained, and Tebar grumbled.

"Living in shabby old ruins like these is a pain in this age. I want to tear them all down and build new ones, but the Church Master absolutely refuses to allow it."

"At least we have repaired them. We regularly call in mages to cast preservation spells as well."

Evan added casually. Kyle had wondered how those roughly built huts had endured for five hundred years without collapsing. That explained it.

'It feels as if time has been forcibly stopped.'

It could have been called the feeling of returning to the past. Kyle smiled bitterly and glanced at Helenas. Helenas herself was smiling. It was not a faint smile, but a curve anyone could clearly see.

"We will escort you no farther."

After passing the followers', now the Apostles', huts, Obion stopped walking. He gave a warm, grandfatherly smile and bowed deeply.

"Have a pleasant time."

The farewell sounded a little strange somehow. As Kyle was about to clear his throat in embarrassment, Helenas pulled him along. He had no right to refuse, nor any way to resist.

Ba-ra-ba-bam.

For some reason, he felt as if that sort of music was playing in his mind. Despite five hundred years having passed, the hut's door opened smoothly.

"I never thought I'd enter this place with you again."

Helenas looked excited, but Kyle's expression was complicated. He had felt it while entering Sword Grove, but it became even clearer inside the hut.

Nothing in here had changed. It felt as though time had stopped, as though it had been preserved and put on display. Helenas had supposedly lived here for five hundred years, yet there was no trace of those years or of any life lived within the hut.

Everything remained exactly as it had in the distant past, when the Sword Demon had lived here. The bed he had made himself by chopping down trees and hammering in nails was still there, as was the bedding he could no longer remember where he had found. Not only the bed, but the desk, chairs, drawers, and every other piece of furniture were the same.

"No matter how well it was preserved with magic, can it really look this identical?"

"I made them again."

Kyle froze at the answer. He slowly turned his head to look at Helenas. Her face, which had been excited when they first entered, was now colored with sadness.

"At first, I never thought of preserving them with magic. After using them for around fifty years, they broke down. So I asked dwarves to make them. I remember everything in here exactly, without a single difference."

In other words, she had called in dwarves, who were difficult even to ask for favors, and had made them recreate that crude bedding and furniture exactly as they had been.

"It was sad, but there was nothing I could do. Even dwarves said restoring what had already broken was impossible. So I just had them made the same way. I found and used the same kind of wood you used to make those things, and I recreated the bedding from the same materials that felt the way I remembered."

"..."

"The only regret was that your scent had disappeared. That could not be helped. I could not recreate your scent. Still, I only had them remade once. After that, I called mages to cast preservation spells regularly."

"You're kind of creepy."

"Creepy? Why?"

"What would you do if I died someday?"

Helenas's eyes darkened at that question. Her gaze felt even creepier, and Kyle hurriedly added.

"I don't mean someone else killing me. I'm human too. I can't live a thousand years like an elf."

"...That's true. But that's still a distant story. You're young."

"If I died, would you... do something like this?"

"Like this? What do you mean?"

"Would you cast preservation magic on my dead body and keep it here?"

"That's a way to do it too."

Helenas slowly nodded. Seeing that, Kyle's face hardened as he shook his head.

"Don't do that."

"I don't want you to die."

"People die someday, but... well, it is too far away to discuss now. Let's change things one step at a time first."

"What are we changing?"

"This house."

Kyle looked around the hut as he spoke.

"I understand that you kept this place exactly as it was five hundred years ago because your memories with me are precious. But the person who used to live in this house has come back."

"That's true."

"Let's start with the interior. Let's replace that old... artificially aged bed, desk, chairs, drawers, all of it. No, let's build an entirely new house."

Helenas's eyes widened at his words. Seeing her faded blue eyes tremble, Kyle continued.

"Why? There's no problem. Keep the memories in your head, and let's make new memories with the reincarnated me."

"I understand... what you mean, but."

"I understand how you feel. You lived for five hundred years, so you must have grown attached to this place. But you have to throw away what needs throwing away. Does it make any sense to live in old ruins like this after so much time has passed? What did the Apostles do to deserve it? Hey, don't tell me the bathroom is still the same as it was five hundred years ago?"

"I don't use a bathroom."

"Elves don't shit either?"

"Once one reaches a high enough realm, excretion becomes unnecessary."

"Then you don't need one. Still, this is supposed to be a house, so having no bathroom at all is a bit much. Let's put in a clean, modern one. We'll make a new bath too."

Lamika, who held firm beliefs about attending to Helenas's baths, would never accept it, but it would be much better than drawing lake water from the forest and purifying it. Kyle dropped into the old, or rather, carefully aged chair made by a dwarf.

"Dwarves really are amazing. How did they recreate even the fact that the thing I made so poorly is slightly tilted to one side? I've barely sat down, and my ass and back already hurt."

"I like it."

"I don't. Your personality may be like that because you're an elf, but I think your environment played a big part too. I'll call people in and rebuild this hut and all the Apostles' huts, so all you have to do is agree."

"..."

Helenas did not answer immediately, instead pressing her lips together. As the silence stretched on, Kyle quickly added.

"What's there to think about? I only made the furniture here five hundred years ago because I wanted to try making it once."

"That's why it's precious."

"Precious? You said everything I actually made broke, and what is here now was made by dwarves to look the same. Is that mine? It belongs to the dwarves."

"That's..."

"And when I made the furniture back then, I never even asked what you thought, did I? This time, let's decide together what to fill the house with. Let's build a new house entirely according to both our tastes. And... what else was it? My scent? What scent, it was just the smell of a bachelor."

Kyle pointed at his smooth sixteen-year-old skin.

"It's a little gross to say it myself, but I've eaten a lot of good things since I was young, and Mother has taken good care of me, so I smell pretty nice. I definitely don't smell like some lonely bachelor. A new house, new furniture, and the way I smell now. Isn't that much better?"

"You don't necessarily have to call people in yourself."

As soon as she answered, Helenas waved her hand.

Shra-ra-ra-rak!

The hut's walls and roof were sliced by countless slashes, and sawdust shredded as finely as dust scattered through the air.

"..."

Kyle had not expected her to be so extreme. He looked around with a dazed expression. The hut Helenas had cherished for five hundred years now had only walls up to Kyle's waist and the floor remaining.

"Church Master?!"

The Apostles came running at the shocked cry. They had escorted the pair all the way to the house and told them to have a pleasant time, only for the hut to be sliced apart in less than ten minutes. Their reaction was natural. Kyle turned to Obion, whose eyes were wide, and spoke.

"Th-the Church Master said she wanted to build a new house."

"All of a sudden?"

"This is the house of this child and me."

Helenas corrected him.

"Obion, bring craftsmen to build a house and furniture."

"Under... stood."

"You may rebuild the Apostles' houses as well."

At that, the younger Apostles, such as Ronia and Evan, brightened.

'Looks like I won't be sleeping under a roof today either.'

He had underestimated Helenas's extreme decisiveness.

* * *

"It seems the Church Master is completely captivated by that little brat. To think she would tear down the hut she had been so attached to herself."

As he returned to his own hut, Tebar let out a hollow laugh and muttered.

"Senior Lamika seemed to have mixed feelings about it."

Ronia said as she trotted after Tebar.

"It must have been quite a shock to hear that a new bathroom would be built. Lamika belongs to a line that has attended to the Church Master for generations, going back through her teacher and her teacher's teacher."

"If there is a bathroom, Senior Ronia's work will become easier too. You know that, Senior Tebar. Preparing the Church Master's bathwater is one of Senior Lamika's main duties every day."

"If Lamika spent the time she wastes doing that swinging her sword more, she would have gotten stronger. Not that she could have taken the Fourth Apostle's seat anyway."

Tebar smiled maliciously and looked back at Ronia.

"Come to think of it, you're the problem. You're the Sixth Apostle because you're worse than Lamika, who starts drawing water from the lakeside before dawn to prepare bathwater."

"Why are you suddenly attacking me?"

"Because you're worth attacking. Anyway, I like it. It means not only the Church Master's house but mine will be rebuilt too."

"Insulting me is like spitting on your own face. You were the one who brought me into the Sword Church and raised me as your disciple."

Ronia pouted and grumbled.

"I made you an Apostle, so I raised you well enough. After that, you should have handled things yourself..."

Tebar abruptly stopped speaking and drew the greatsword from his back. A sharp presence had slipped in from beyond his awareness. His greatsword moved on instinct, seemingly blocking the blade, but at the moment they met, the slash writhed like a snake and targeted Tebar's throat.

Swoosh!

The afterimage left by the slash wavered and disappeared. Tebar had stepped several paces back from where he had just stood, his hair standing on end. The unnerving chill of the cut on his neck mixed with the heat of flowing blood, leaving an unpleasant sensation.

"This bastard's insane."

Tebar looked dumbfounded, yet he twisted his face into a smile. Ronia gasped and turned her head.

'I didn't even notice?'

She had not been the target. There had not even been killing intent behind the ambush. Those were all excuses. The certain, unchanging truth was that Ronia had failed to notice Kyle's approach and attack.

"I heard you liked this sort of thing."

Kyle rose from his lowered stance with a smile. He looked as chilling as a venomous snake straightening up after coiling its body. That was the very sort of presence flowing from Kyle.

"Puahaha!"

Tebar could not help bursting into laughter. Who would have imagined that the young master of Alastor, the boy who had entered Sword Grove as the person who would become the Church Master's partner, would launch such a bold ambush? And that ambush had not been on the level of a greeting. The sword that had shown not a trace of killing intent until it nearly pierced his throat was an assassin's sword, too brutal to believe it was wielded by a young master of a prestigious house.

"Yes, I do."

Crack!

The wound on Tebar's neck, which had been streaming blood, closed. There was no need for any more conversation here.

Tebar's greatsword collided with Fenris.

Footnotes:

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