WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 195: Definitely
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A slash came flying from beyond the darkness.
No, “came flying” was wrong. Something that flies has a process. It starts, moves, and arrives. But that slash had none of that. Its trajectory existed across the entire distance between the farthest reaches of darkness and right before Kyle's eyes at the same time.
A sword already carved out in full the instant it was drawn. A single flash whose beginning and end existed together. The laws of this space were powerless before that slash.
Even amid space folded and crumpled at random, the slash did not bend. Tangled time could not hold it. All the jumbled laws beyond the world were as though they had never existed before that single line.
The man who wielded that sword was such a being. The first, and still only, one among mortals born into the world and destined to die who had truly escaped mortality. A being who had risen to the heavens, stepped beyond the world, and rewritten the Law of the very species that had defined him.
The laws here could not seize Ruin Alastor's sword.
Kyle forgot to breathe.
For this single moment, both the agony of his breaking body and the weight of the gazes pressing down on him vanished from his mind. His eyes, soul, and every image within him were nailed to that one trajectory.
That sword was familiar, yet strange.
The sword that had taken the Sword Demon's life five hundred years ago. The sword Fenris had shown him. The sword wielded alone at the end of the Ascension Platform, at the edge of an unseen path. The sword swung while its wielder looked back at Kyle.
Every one of those swords had been immature compared to the one he saw now. During his final battle with Velatus, he had advanced endlessly and thought he had come a little closer to that sword. He had thought he might at least be close enough to brush against its back.
But that fucking bastard's sword was still far beyond him.
Ruin.
Crack!
The darkness split apart along the trajectory. The lawlessness beyond the world was corrected. Folded space spread straight. Tangled time began flowing in one direction. Light and darkness separated, and above and below came into being.
In the heart of that infinite darkness and chaos, order emerged across the width of a single blade, and the world was rewritten.
The gazes all trembled at once. Those nebula-like beings, whose bodies included even the darkness between the stars, rippled like waves before one Sword Mark.
The pressure crushing Kyle receded like the tide. His rampaging Spirit Root calmed, and his blazing Circuits cooled. The flow of mana that had been filling his dantian to the brim stopped as well.
The gazes gradually felt farther away. Kyle gasped as he read the emotions behind those retreating gazes.
There was no anger. Ruin's sword had clearly interfered with what was happening, yet the owners of those gazes were not enraged. Affection was still the dominant emotion in the outer gods' gazes.
And regret.
::Not yet::
Layer upon layer of voices overlapped and flowed into him gently.
::It is not time yet::
::We will wait::
They were chilling whispers. Those things had not given up. They had merely turned away from fruit that had not yet ripened. Still overflowing with affection for Kyle, they whispered.
::Beautiful child::
The final voice brushed over Kyle like a hand stroking his hair.
::Sleep well::
The crack in the darkness opened wider. The sliver of world Ruin's sword had carved out expanded, and a different color appeared beyond it.
...?
A human figure flickered amid the blending colors.
The first person he saw was a woman with green hair and long ears. She had been swinging a pitch-black sword amid lush greenery, but she flinched and turned her head.
"Kyle?"
"...Helenas?"
At the sound of Kyle's name, Kyle called out hers in surprise as well. Helenas, the Sword Church Master. She had begun to change after meeting Kyle, stayed in the Sword Grove, and decided to keep swinging her sword until he came for her. Kyle could not understand why he could see her over there.
"Why are you..."
Before Kyle could ask, Helenas spoke first. Before he could answer her question, the scenery rippled. Helenas, who had been approaching with a startled expression, rapidly grew distant.
Then he saw something else.
He had only been there once, but it was a place he could never forget. The Ascension Platform at the summit of the Sword Tower. Stairs that stood amid pure white. Julius had been swinging his sword at the top of those stairs, but he stopped and turned his head.
"What is this...?"
Confusion colored Julius's voice. His eyes widened at Kyle, who had suddenly appeared on the other side.
What is this?
Kyle was the most confused of all. Ruin's sword had split the darkness, and he had thought they were about to escape this horrible place. But beyond the darkness, he had seen Helenas, then Julius.
What do they have in common?
Despite his confusion, Kyle's thoughts remained calm. Helenas and Julius. Their common link was their connection to Kyle. Was that why he could see them?
No.
They had something else in common before their connection to Kyle.
The sword.
"I'm alive."
He put aside the question of why he had seen the two of them. There was something more urgent he needed to tell them. Kyle spoke quickly.
"So don't worry too much..."
He could not finish. Before Julius could reply, his image vanished. No, to be precise, it passed by.
Then another figure flickered into view.
It was someone Kyle had never seen before. A member of the Demon Tribe with a pair of long, awl-like horns and bright red eyes. Unlike Julius and Helenas, that demon neither turned toward Kyle nor stopped swinging his sword.
Another demon died beneath the demon's descending blade. The swordsmanship that neatly split the body in two was so outstanding that Kyle had no choice but to recognize it at a glance.
Kyle did not know who that demon was. He had never met him. But that exceptional swordsmanship was enough to remind Kyle of a name he had heard before.
Erebos's First Sword.
Varka Aspel, the Demon Tribe's first prince.
He never turned toward Kyle. Soon, his image passed by just like Helenas and Julius.
Kyle, Lucia, and Jor emerged from the darkness through the gap in the Sword Mark.
Behind them, the rift closed.
* * *
"...?"
Varka Aspel.
As he withdrew his blood-soaked sword, he flinched and turned his head.
"Just now."
Varka tilted his head slightly before continuing.
"Was someone standing beside me?"
Even as he said it, he knew it was a strange and sudden question. What he had just fought was a sacred duel. Only Varka and his younger brother had stood here and fought. No one else could interfere.
Yet Varka could not shake the feeling that someone had been beside him just now.
"No one was standing there."
One of Varka's retainers, who had been observing from a distance, answered.
"...Of course not."
Varka muttered softly and nodded. He turned back toward the younger brother he had just killed. The demon's torso had been cut diagonally in half. He was Varka's youngest full brother, the fifth of Varka's full younger siblings.
Varka smiled bitterly and leaned toward his youngest brother. Then red light rose from his blood-soaked upper body and settled into Varka.
The Demon King Inscription resided in the blood children of the current Demon King, Babelio Erebos, and in powerful members of the Demon Tribe. It was an unprecedented Demon King succession war in Erebos's history, in which whoever became the sole remaining holder of an Inscription would become the Demon King.
In the end, it was a conflict where blood brothers killed one another.
"I'm sick of this."
Varka muttered quietly as he stood. At present, he was the strongest candidate to become the next Demon King, and every one of his siblings coveted his Inscription.
The foolish younger brother who died today had been no different. Varka shook his head and moved to sheath his sword.
Then he stopped.
...?
Like someone hearing delayed thunder after failing to see the lightning that had flashed and passed by, Varka felt a sword.
A single sword strike he could never dare imitate. Though he had not seen it directly, Varka could feel just how perfect that strike had been. With only the faint impression of a sword that had passed by, Varka unconsciously raised his own sword.
"Hey."
Varka drew his sword downward and asked his approaching retainers.
"Is my sword different from before?"
"Pardon...?"
"Then I suppose it isn't."
At their reaction, Varka muttered quietly and raised his sword again.
It is different.
He repeatedly raised and drew his sword as he thought.
This is not the sword.
The impression of that sword, which he had not witnessed and had merely brushed past him, seized Varka's mind.
* * *
They had returned to the world.
The wind struck them hard enough to tear their cheeks. Gravity pulled at their bodies. From an immense height, the three began plummeting toward the ground.
They were falling. Kyle stared downward with wide eyes. The ground was drawing closer. Kyle and Lucia would not die from an ordinary fall, but this was far beyond an ordinary height. Besides, Kyle was so badly battered that it would not have been strange if he had already passed out. If they crashed from this height, they would die.
"Lucia."
Kyle removed the arm covering his eyes and called Lucia's name. Lucia, who had been dazed, belatedly came to her senses. She looked at Kyle, then hurriedly turned to look down.
"K-Kyle! We're falling!"
"I know. Can you do anything?"
It was a pointless question. Lucia could not fly yet. So she answered with what she could do.
"Even if my body breaks, I will protect you, Sir Kyle."
"You don't need to go that far. Jor, wake up already."
Kyle turned from Lucia, whose face was filled with determination, and lightly tapped Jor's head with Fenris's hilt. Jor shuddered and came to.
"M-Master?"
"Now that you're awake, fly."
Jor hurriedly grasped the situation. The long body that had been wrapped around Kyle and Lucia came loose.
Just before they hit the ground, they came to an abrupt stop. Kyle sighed in relief and glanced down at the nearby ground. If Jor had flown even a little later, they would have crashed into it.
"Where are we...?"
Lying on Jor's back, Kyle looked around.
An absurdly enormous canyon. Cliffs layered with red and yellow rock rose to staggering heights, blocking both sides of his view. Stripes of geological layers formed over endless ages marked the cliff faces.
Unknown land.
They had certainly returned to the world, but he could not even guess where they were.
Kyle forced his heavy eyelids open. His highest priority now was recovering. He put Baal, which he was still holding, into the Out-of-Place Artifact and sheathed Fenris.
"Let's get down first."
"Okay..."
Even Jor's answer lacked energy. Jor had reached the limit as well. Jor had used nearly all that mana fighting Velatus, used something similar to Dragon Speech, and been crushed beneath the outer gods' gazes. As a result, Jor's flight swayed like a drunkard's steps. Wobbling, Jor descended and landed in a broad rocky area, half sliding across it.
Splat.
It was closer to a crash than a landing. Lucia, holding on to Kyle, rolled off Jor's back. Jor sprawled out and panted heavily.
"Sir Kyle, are you all right..."
"No, I'm not."
Kyle answered honestly. The consciousness he had kept tightly stretched was beginning to snap. The final battle with Velatus, the outer gods' rift, beyond the world, the fall. Too many things had happened in rapid succession.
His body had exceeded its limits countless times. There was not a single part of him that was intact. All the bills he had postponed were arriving at once.
Let's see...
Kyle slowly closed his eyes and assessed his condition. His internal injuries were severe. Internal bleeding and blood clots. Every time he breathed, bloody foam gurgled in his throat. His side had been torn open, and his organs protruded. His left leg hung like it could tear off at any moment. The muscles and bones in both arms were a mess. Bones throughout his entire body were cracked and broken.
This is serious.
The worst injury he had suffered since reincarnating was during his battle with the Black Cube's demon, but his injuries now were far more serious. That was only natural. The opponent Kyle had defeated today was Velatus, the Dragon Queen. She was incomparably stronger than the Flower Immortal, who had been called a low-ranking Ascendant, and the one being who was both the oldest and greatest in the current world.
Fighting such a being, defeating her, and surviving was absurd in itself. Today, Kyle had achieved something no one else in the world had ever accomplished. He gave a faint smile at that fact and closed his eyes.
"I'm going to sleep."
He pulled out several potions he had brought from the Sword Tower and muttered weakly. Figuring out their location and investigating could wait. He needed rest first.
"I don't want to... die in my sleep. Just pour the potions over me and make me drink them. Don't force me awake..."
He could not do this. He could not speak anymore. Kyle stopped resisting and let consciousness go. Still, it was fortunate Lucia was beside him. He would have to scold her later for disobeying his orders.
"Sir Kyle...?"
Lucia moved to catch the unconscious Kyle, then stopped. He had told her not to force him awake. She had disobeyed earlier, but she could not do so now. Lucia picked up the expensive potions scattered on the ground and held her hand before Kyle's nose.
His breathing was faint, but it continued. Lucia swallowed her sigh of relief and examined Kyle's body. He was covered in blood. Not one part of him was uninjured.
Lucia had been injured too. She had fought the husks of Eastern dragons and dragons. But compared to Kyle's wounds, hers were no more than scratches. Feeling an ache in her chest, Lucia held back her tears. She was the vice-captain of the Sword Wolf Knights and Kyle's retainer. In this unknown place, she had to protect Kyle and tend to his wounds.
"Jor, please keep watch over the area..."
As she spoke, Lucia flinched and looked back at Jor. Jor had passed out as well, the long body hanging limp. Neither showed any sign of waking.
"Mm...!"
Lucia stamped her feet. Unfamiliar land. An unknown canyon. Her unconscious master and an exhausted Spirit. Of the three, Lucia was the only one who could still move properly.
Stay calm, Lucia.
Lucia took a deep breath and organized what she needed to do. Her priority was treating Kyle's injuries.
But where was she even supposed to begin? There were potions Kyle had told her to pour over him and make him drink, but potions were not all-powerful. Potions that healed every injury simply by drinking them existed only in fairy tales. Potions basically accelerated recovery.
Kyle's injuries were far too serious to treat with potions alone. Especially his broken and twisted bones. If she poured potions on him without setting them properly, the bones would heal crooked.
I know first aid, but...
Kyle's wounds went far beyond first aid. What he desperately needed now was a medical expert. Lucia stamped her feet and bit her lip. First... she needed to put his protruding organs back inside, then set the badly twisted bones...
Lucia's expression abruptly changed as she continued thinking. Blood Fang slid out from her waist. The red blade gave off a chilling light.
She sensed presences. Someone was approaching. Not just one person, but several. They were not hiding their footsteps. Judging by the level of those presences, they were making noise on purpose. They expected her to notice them.
They must have seen them fall from the sky. Lucia bit her lip. In this situation, she was the only one who could respond. A chill ran down her spine. The approaching presences were strong enough that Lucia alone would struggle to handle them.
Should I run?
Could she carry the battered Kyle, drag the unconscious Jor, and lose them in this enormous canyon? It was impossible. She did not even need to steel herself. Lucia could die for Kyle again and again.
There is no hostility. They are not here to ambush us.
If that were their goal, they would not be making their footsteps so obvious. Just as Lucia did not know who they were, they did not know Lucia either. Rather than hostility, Lucia showed caution as she shouted.
"Do not come any closer!"
Lucia's voice struck the canyon walls and echoed in layers.
"Stop where you are and identify yourselves!"
The footsteps stopped. She could not hear anything like whispered conversation. Only the sound of wind striking the rocks. Before long, a voice came from beyond the boulders.
"Judging by the voice, you're human."
The speaker sounded somewhat surprised.
"Your accent has a little northern dialect in it. Are you from the North?"
"I told you to identify yourselves...!"
"If you wish to know another's identity, you should give your own first. We only came to see what had fallen from the sky. We did not come looking for a fight, so let's exchange names first. Who are you?"
The voice spoke the continent's common tongue, so this could not be the East.
It was a reasonable question. Lucia hesitated briefly before revealing a reliable card.
"I am Lucia, vice-captain of Alastor's Sword Wolf Knights."
Alastor.
Except for the East, which had been cut off for more than three hundred years, that name carried weight anywhere. The Empire's Grand Duke family. The Sword Saint's family, respected and revered across the continent. The continent's greatest Martial family. Ordinary thugs would buckle at their knees before that name, and even powerful factions could not touch it lightly.
As expected, the presences stirred.
"...Alastor?"
A startled voice called out.
"Alastor? The Alastor from the North?"
"Yes."
Silence followed. They seemed to be whispering among themselves, but she could not hear their voices. Lucia maintained her guard and gripped Blood Fang's hilt tightly. At least, she had felt no hostility in the first question or the voice that had just questioned her.
"Huh."
Soon, a hollow laugh came from beyond the boulders. It carried equal parts disbelief and bewilderment.
"How is Alastor here?"
The next voice held pure confusion and curiosity. Lucia narrowed her eyes and asked back.
"Where are we?"
"Huh... You do not even know where you are? Let's see each other's faces first. There is a lot we need to confirm. We have no hostile intentions, so rest assured."
"One person."
Lucia gripped Blood Fang's hilt tightly as she spoke.
"Only one person may approach."
"You're very cautious. I understand why, but..."
With that mutter, footsteps approached. As Lucia requested, only one person came forward.
Lucia's eyes widened at the figure that appeared.
Their appearance was strange. A cloak woven from layers of black feathers flowed from their shoulders to their ankles, and on their head was a mask.
A long beak and goggles. A mask like one a plague doctor might wear. The black feather cloak and that mask were famous symbols. Lucia unconsciously swallowed and took a step back.
"You recognize it. I am honored."
A voice came from behind the mask. The man lifted the feather cloak slightly and gave a formal greeting.
"I am Dorian of the Black Wing Guard, directly under Duke Oun. Please forgive me for greeting you without removing my mask."
"The Black Wing Guard...?"
"It seems you fell here without even knowing where you are. Ha ha, it is a truly strange matter, but considering this place, I suppose it makes sense."
Dorian chuckled.
"This is the western dark frontier of the continent. It is well known that we are stationed here, but it is quite strange that you, who were said to have gone missing, are here. Why are you here? Why did you fall from the sky?"
As he continued asking questions, Dorian examined Lucia's surroundings.
"What is that long creature? It does not seem to be a snake. Is it a monster? Were your injuries caused by fighting that monster?"
"..."
"Not very talkative, are you? Is it because of the person lying behind you?"
Dorian laughed quietly. Lucia had stood in front of Kyle from the beginning, shielding him.
"I told you not to be so wary. You must know that while the Southern Branch may be different, the Crows' headquarters is favorable toward Alastor. You seem to be in serious trouble. We can help you. No, we must help you."
Lucia struggled internally. She did not know about the conversation between Kyle and Duke Oun. But she knew that Kyle had formed ties with the Crows' Central Branch. In the end, Lucia cautiously stepped aside.
"Huh..."
A surprised sound escaped Dorian.
"This is... extremely serious. By the look of him, those are fatal wounds, but he is still breathing. His entire body is red, though his hair seems to be naturally red as well."
Excitement and joy trembled in Dorian's voice.
"You said you were the vice-captain of the Sword Wolf Knights, correct? Then there can only be one person whom someone like you would protect so cautiously. Is that person lying there... Sir Kyle Alastor, captain of the Sword Wolf Knights, a pure-blooded Alastor, and the Black Sword?"
"That... is correct."
Lucia nodded slowly. Kyle was in critical condition. They had few means to treat him. That left no choice but to accept outside help.
"I will explain the situation later. As Lucia, vice-captain of the Sword Wolf Knights, I formally request assistance. Captain Kyle's condition is critical. Please treat him at once..."
"Of course we will."
Dorian answered quickly. When he raised his hand, the people waiting farther away appeared beside him in an instant. Every one of them wore feather cloaks and crow masks.
"Do not worry too much. We will save him. We must."
They absolutely had to.
Footnotes:
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