WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 156: Candlelight

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Kyle was not the only busy person in Sword Grove.

The Apostles were busy as well. Before Kyle arrived, most of their days had been similar. Every day, at the same time and in the same place, they watched the Sword Church Master swing her sword. Then the Apostles trained with swords of their own.

Aside from passionate people like Tebar, the Apostles' training was mostly quiet. Each reflected in their own way, trying to reproduce the Sword Church Master's swordsmanship or looking back on their own. Only Tebar would challenge the Sword Church Master or the other Apostles. The rest usually did not even seek sparring matches with one another, much less challenge the Sword Church Master.

Whenever that life of sword seekers became stifling, they left the forest. They taught disciples and Sword Church members staying in nearby villages, or went traveling under the excuse of spreading the faith.

In other words, the Apostles had not normally led particularly busy lives.

Then Kyle appeared, introduced as a candidate to become the Sword Church Master's partner. He showed them a new sword, sparred with the Apostles, and even began devouring and digesting their swordsmanship.

It changed how they all felt.

They began swinging their swords with greater desperation.

Having the sword one had trained for an entire lifetime stolen away was frustrating. Yet a swordsman's instinct and longing outweighed that frustration. To avoid being robbed, they had to add something new to their own swords faster than Kyle could take them.

The Apostles had no choice but to study more deeply than before. They revisited the swords they had swung throughout their lives and considered what more they could put into them.

It was funny, in a way. The thief who was nibbling away at the Apostles' swords had also become the whetstone sharpening them.

For the Elders Obion and Theodic, it was a welcome change.

"I don't know what the Sword Church was like before I joined, but the Sword Church now is the most like the Sword Church it has ever been since I came here."

Obion smiled as he poured wine into a cup. Across from him, Theodic slowly nodded and accepted it.

"Serga is busy looking back and forth between the Sword Church Master's sword and the young master's. Evan must have had his pride wounded in that last spar, because he has been swinging his sword all night. Ronia has stopped wandering outside and is focusing entirely on her sword."

"Not to mention Lamika and Tebar."

Theodic chuckled at Obion's reply.

"Tebar especially. He has been following the young master around everywhere, has he not? The moment he thinks he spots an opening, he launches an ambush."

"I think he may be going too far. The young master cannot even visit the restroom in peace because of him."

"It goes both ways, does it not? Did you not see Tebar running through the forest naked the other day?"

It had been an unsightly scene that could never be shown to ordinary Sword Church members. A few days ago, Tebar had been enjoying a bath in the bathhouse when Kyle ambushed him. Furious, Tebar had not even stopped to put on clothes. He had stalked through Sword Grove with only his greatsword in hand, screaming like a madman.

"It is a good thing."

Obion took a drink.

"The Sword Church had been still for far too long. Because the Sword Church Master had remained still, everyone came to see stillness as natural."

Until now, the Sword Church had worshipped the Sword Church Master, who was no different from a gravestone shaped like a sword. A gravestone did not live or move. Of course, the Sword Church Master was alive, but to the members of the Sword Church, she had always been no different from a gravestone that swung a sword in the same place.

Even the Apostles who served her closely had thought that way. Nothing existed within the Sword Church Master apart from the sword. Not emotions, not even the desires of a living being. She only spent every day swinging the same sword she had swung yesterday, would swing the same sword tomorrow, and would do the same decades from now.

The Sword Church members and Apostles worshipped the Sword Church Master, but they did not follow her.

After Kyle came, the Apostles who had been motionless alongside her began desperately pursuing the sword.

"Faith in the Sword Church Master remains firm."

Theodic emptied his cup.

"The more one swings a sword and comes to understand it, the more one realizes how extraordinary her sword is. That greatness... comes not from the sword itself, but from the longing she has devoted to it. It may be irreverent to say so, but you know it too. The Sword Church Master has no talent for the sword."

Like Obion, Theodic had watched the Sword Church Master's sword up close for decades. Theodic's sword had developed greatly compared to several decades ago, but the Sword Church Master's sword had barely improved.

"The Sword Church Master's sword reached the limits of her innate ability long ago. Of course, she still advances from that limit, little by little. One step in several decades, or perhaps only half a step."

The Sword Church Master had quietly swung only her sword through the span of time in which a human would be born, grow old, and die. Anyone else would have despaired long ago and laid down their sword, but she had not.

That was why Theodic respected her. It would not be an exaggeration to call the Sword Church Master the furthest point that someone without talent for the sword could reach. She had earned the title of the continent's strongest long ago, yet she was still unsatisfied and still swinging her sword.

"The Sword Church Master does not know despair. She has swung her sword that way for hundreds of years. I... hoped that she would continue to do so forever. If she were to despair now, after all this time, then the years she has spent would become unbearably painful. And as an elf, the Sword Church Master must live for as long again as she has already lived."

Theodic had been speaking almost like he was reciting something. Then he noticed Obion's warm smile from across the table, cleared his throat softly, and poured himself more wine.

"Of course, the reason I could not wholly welcome the Sword Church Master's change was also because of the ordinary members. There are more than ten thousand Sword Church members scattered across the continent."

That was the number of swordsmen formally initiated into the church and actively working as members. If one included the swordsmen connected to the Sword Church and the young swordsmen raised in the facilities of its parishes, that number would multiply several times over.

For a religion that had endured five hundred years, it might not sound like much. Yet the Sword Church was not a group devoted to a god. It followed one living Sword Church Master. At her command, those ten thousand swordsmen would immediately abandon any other affiliation and gather at Sword Grove.

"If the Sword Church Master ever despaired and laid down her sword, or if she were defeated and ceased to be the strongest swordsman, those countless members might despair as well."

"Do you still think that?"

"Now... I think a little differently. The Sword Saint's sword that the young master showed us was clearly greater than the Sword Church Master's sword. If the young master fully inherits that sword's legacy, he could become the Sword Church's new idol."

Theodic oversaw the church's overall operations, so he could not help thinking about its practical future. Yet even Theodic, who was speaking this way now, had lately been thinking more about his own sword than the church's future. The change Kyle had brought to Sword Grove had clearly affected him too.

Still, they had to consider the near future. Kyle had declared it earlier that day.

One week from now, Kyle would leave Sword Grove and return to Alastor.

"The new wind in Sword Grove will not die out just because the young master leaves. The Sword Saint's sword may have captivated the Apostles, but they will remain at the Sword Church Master's side as they always have."

"Because someday the young master will lead the Sword Church."

"That is right. What we should be worried about is... the Sword Church Master. The wind the young master has brought is far too strong for someone who stood still for so long. I fear the Sword Church Master may fall into an inner demon after the young master returns home."

"That is why they must have an heir."

Theodic spoke firmly. The two oldest Elders of the Sword Church had gathered over wine to discuss that very matter.

"If she conceives a child, the Sword Church Master will be less lonely. The young master will no longer be able to keep putting off marriage, either."

"..."

"What is there to agonize over? The Imperial Newspaper has already spread the relationship between the young master and the Sword Church Master across the continent. It has become an established fact, without any need to promise a later date. So let us have them conceive a child first."

"Theodic, a child is granted by heaven. Even if they wish for one, it may not come easily."

"Do not say such frustrating things. I am the only Apostle who has ever had a child. What do you mean, granted by heaven? A child happens when a man and a woman press their bellies together."

Theodic grumbled as though Obion were hopelessly dense, then took another sip of wine.

"I know humans and elves do not easily have children together, but then they simply need to make an effort until it happens. The young master is at a vigorous age, and the Sword Church Master is changing through these new stimuli. If they spend their wedding night together, they will make the effort on their own."

"The young master is only sixteen."

"That is why I do not understand it. At that age, I used to get excited at the sight of a falling leaf. Yet the young master lives in the same house and sleeps in the same bed as that beautiful Sword Church Master, and nothing has happened..."

"That only means he is pure, sincerely thinking about the future, and cherishing the Sword Church Master. It is not for old men like us to rush them."

"In matters like this, old men should be the ones giving them a push."

Theodic showed no intention of backing down, and neither did Obion.

"The more important the matter, the less it should be rushed."

"Having lived to this age, I have found that there are many things in this world that must be hurried."

"I am older than you. Who are you trying to lecture about age?"

"You must be very pleased to be a few years older. Fine, let us do this. We will only give them an opportunity. I saw that the young master is mature and enjoys alcohol, so we put several bottles of fine, strong liquor in the Sword Church Master's and the young master's room."

At those words, Obion fell silent and searched his memories. He had served the Sword Church Master for forty-five years now. Had she ever touched alcohol during that time?

"..."

At least, Obion could not remember it. The Sword Church Master usually took no interest even in meals, so she could not have secretly tried alcohol either. What about before Obion began serving her? Probably not then, either. Obion could not imagine the Sword Church Master drinking at all.

"The two of them have reached such high realms. Even if we bring strong liquor, would they become drunk?"

"Even we do not suppress the feeling of intoxication when we drink. I do not mean to make the young master and the Sword Church Master lose their senses. If they become a little more emotional than usual, they will sleep together on their own. The young master especially is in the prime of youth."

"Hmm..."

Obion's resolve began to waver. He did not want to deliberately make them consummate their relationship under the influence of alcohol, as Theodic said. Still, he found himself wanting to let the Sword Church Master taste fine liquor, since she had never tried it before.

"It is not for us to decide. Tomorrow, I will ask the Sword Church Master and the young master whether they would like to taste some wine if we bring it to them."

"Why wait until tomorrow? I have good liquor at my home, and tonight there is a very beautiful full moon."

"What does a full moon have to do with anything?"

"I see why you have remained unmarried all this time. In any case, let us not put it off until tomorrow. Let us go ask the Sword Church Master right away."

Theodic abruptly rose from his seat.

At that moment, Kyle was at the edge of Sword Grove.

The large-scale construction in Sword Grove had ended long ago, but Agur was still staying at its outskirts, having even built a new home for himself.

It was because of Jor. Once Kyle's afternoon sparring ended, he brought Jor here and devoted himself to the research he had promised. Agur endlessly sketched Jor's body, erased the drawings, and sketched again. He ran his hands along Jor's long body, stroked her scales, and stuck his head close to her horns, eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, and even the inside of her mouth.

Whenever Jor released lightning energy, Agur boldly pushed a hand into it and was electrocuted with an ecstatic expression. After discovering that Jor could release mana with attributes other than lightning energy, he began demanding to experience those attributes firsthand as well.

At present, Agur was trembling as he stroked a scorching blast of wind. Dwarves, whose bodies were specialized for making things, naturally possessed a strong resistance to mana. A human would have suffered severe burns the moment they touched that hot wind, but Agur did not let out a single groan of pain as he caressed it with his bare hand.

"Oh, ohhh..."

Instead, he made sounds of a different sort. Agur stroked the wind with rapture and ran his other hand over Jor's teeth. Jor sat with her mouth wide open, enduring that creepy touch as she glared resentfully at Kyle.

'Sorry. I really am sorry.'

Even Kyle had not expected the dwarf to become this obsessed with Jor. Still, he could not tell Agur to stop now. Agur's eyes as he studied Jor were far too serious.

It made sense. Dwarves created all things, yet never knew satisfaction. No matter what they made, it never pleased them. Dwarves were a race that spent their lives dissatisfied, creating things in vain until they died.

Because of that, dwarves made things without rest. Most of the time, unsatisfied with the results, they destroyed their own work. The dwarven works that remained in the world were mostly things made for commissions or things they had been forced to make after being captured. Either way, they were not things the dwarves had truly wanted to create.

"The young master's sword is the same."

After feeling around Jor for a while, Agur immediately lay flat on the ground and began sketching.

"Fenris. It is famous in the world as the Sword Demon's sword, and the Sword Saint's sword. But it was originally the symbol of a family that was destroyed five hundred years ago. It is only a sword made by some unknown dwarf to fulfill the Family Head's request."

Kyle looked down at Agur's sketch. He could not tell exactly what it was even as he looked at it, but it seemed to be a blueprint for something resembling Jor.

"Ah, that does not mean it is poorly made. Even when working according to a commission, dwarves have their stubbornness. Everything they make feels unsatisfying, but they still try their hardest. Fenris is a well-made sword. There are not many swords in the world made better than it."

As he said that, Agur sharply furrowed his brow.

"Come to think of it, young master, you are from Alastor. Dwarves do not like Alastor very much. More precisely, we dislike the Sword Tower where your family's purebloods live."

"Because the Dragon Queen made it?"

"That is right. I swear, there is not a single dwarf in this world who likes dragons. Those greedy, vain lizards have exploited dwarves since the distant past. The one who exploited the most dwarves of all was the Dragon Queen Velatus."

Grit.

Agur ground his teeth as he spoke.

"They say the Dragon Queen gathered up dwarves and ordered them to make all sorts of artifacts. He would not even tell them what he intended to use them for. Then he gobbled up countless artifacts and disappeared."

Kyle had heard about that before from the Fragment. The rewards granted by the Cultivation Floors of the Sword Tower were copies of artifacts the Dragon Queen had forced dwarves to make in the distant past.

"If you hate dragons, why did you make a dragon, Agur-nim?"

"Because I hate them. I am not from a generation that suffered under dragons, but ever since I was young, I have heard more curses about dragons than I have eaten meals. I thought that if I made that greedy creature, then rode it around as a dwarf, perhaps the dissatisfaction I felt throughout my life might finally be fulfilled."

Agur grumbled and cast a sideways glance elsewhere. The metal dragon he had arrived on was lying flat on the ground there.

"Well, it was not fulfilled. I only gained another monstrosity in my warehouse. I cannot even destroy it because it would be a waste of the materials I put into it..."

Agur called that vehicle a monstrosity and junk, but Kyle had no intention of calling it that. In exchange for allowing him to study Jor, the metal dragon had become Kyle's property.

Strictly speaking, it was a loan, but Kyle had already named the vehicle Iron Dragon.

"Maybe this time, my dissatisfaction will finally be fulfilled."

Agur muttered, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

"All the information on dragons in the world is old, and dragons themselves are something every dwarf has tried working with at least once. But as far as I know, no dwarf has ever made an eastern dragon. There is almost no reference material, either. That means I will be the first dwarf to make one."

"..."

"Until I came here, I thought old man Lagon had handed me an irritating job. But looking back now, it feels like fate. Dragon, I will make you the masterpiece of my life..."

Agur whispered as he glanced at Jor. Kyle could not help feeling conflicted at the sight. Strictly speaking, Jor was not an Eastern dragon.

'Still... she is one of a kind in this world.'

Was Jor not even more special than an Eastern dragon if he thought of it that way? Agur longed to make something no dwarf had ever made before, and Jor was the very existence that suited that longing.

"Hmm... It is getting late, so we should be going now."

"I will not see you off. But young master, when will you learn how to operate that monstrosity?"

"I should start learning soon. I have to return to the main house in a week."

"One week... There is only one week left..."

Agur let out a troubled sound and glanced at Jor.

"Could you not leave the Eastern dragon here?"

"No. Jor and I are one body."

Since he normally kept her in his Middle Dantian, it was not a lie. Kyle left Agur behind as the dwarf lamented in disappointment, then headed out with Jor.

[How much longer do I have to fool that creepy dwarf?]

'Fool him? Do not make me sound like a bad person. You are not a snake, and you are not a dragon. So I can call you an Eastern dragon.'

[I am not a dragon. I am a Spirit.]

'You know that is even stranger, right? What Spirit in the world is like you? Just endure it for one week.'

Kyle comforted Jor and returned to Helenas's house. It was nothing like the shabby hut from the past. It was the sort of house that seemed as if it belonged in a fairy tale.

"I'm ba... ck..."

Kyle opened the door and froze in place.

A living room gently lit by candlelight.

Helenas sat before a table with bottles of wine on it.

Footnotes:

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