WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
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◈ Reincarnation of the Sword Demon
Chapter 22
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The Highest Praise
Erika swallowed. Her mouth had gone dry, and the palm gripping her hilt was damp.
Julius, seated on the throne before her, looked like a mountain. Someone she had always looked up to, from as far back as she could remember. Since her mother had fallen into that endless sleep, he had grown even colder, someone she had almost never called Father.
"..."
The resolve she had fought to hold together was already slipping. Julius's eyes, deep and still, frightened her. Fear crept up and wound itself around her ankles.
She almost wanted to run. If she made even one mistake here, she'd spend the rest of her life earning Julius's contempt. The thought alone made her want to bolt.
"Auntie."
Just as her breathing started to come apart, Kyle appeared at her side and tugged at the hem of her clothes.
"Show him. The Snow Flower Sword Art."
He was grinning. The easy, guileless smile of a five-year-old with not a care in the world.
"The flowers you showed me yesterday were really beautiful."
That simple, sincere observation settled something in her. Right. The place was special, but what she had to do was not. All she had to do was swing her sword the way she always did.
Erika drew a long breath. The trembling in her fingertips went still. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. Where fear had been, cold resolve filled the space.
Shhhk.
The sword slid free of its scabbard. The temperature of the Sword Peak Hall plunged in the same instant. The mana in her body drew in the cold, following her cultivation technique.
Her first step landed. The blade split the air. White cold burst outward, and along every inch her sword tip had traveled, moisture and mana froze solid, leaving a shining white arc in its wake.
Clang, criing! A clear, high ringing, not the sound of a sword parting air but of ice shattering and freezing over again.
Her movements quickened. She swept across the floor like someone gliding across ice, fluid and unhurried.
Concentrate.
She fought to ignore her father's gaze. Only the sword, the mana, and the flowers she was drawing into being. Slash! Her strikes flew without pause. Dozens of ice blossoms bloomed in the air, far larger, more intricate, and sharper than anything she had shown Kyle the day before.
The vast space of the Sword Peak Hall transformed in moments into a white snowfield. The cold pressed all the way to the throne where Julius sat.
Last one.
She poured every last drop of mana into the blade. Snow Flower Blizzard. A storm of slashes, and with it came a howling blizzard, dozens of ice blades spinning out like petals and blanketing everything in every direction. Criing! Her sword carved a final cross through the air.
Petals of ice rained down. Erika's ragged breath turned to white mist and dissolved.
Silence fell over the Sword Peak Hall. Ice flowers glittered across the floor and walls. Standing at their center, Erika pressed a hand to her pounding chest.
She couldn't bring herself to look directly at Julius, so she let her gaze drop. She was afraid of what expression he might be wearing. Was he sneering? Or just disappointed?
"..."
Julius said nothing. He rose slowly from the throne and walked through the hall. Thud. Thud. With every footstep that drew closer, her heart pounded harder.
He stopped directly in front of her and reached out to flick one of the ice blossoms still drifting in the air.
Criing! It shattered and fell to the floor.
"Showy."
"The mana waste is considerable. Your movements are large, with too many unnecessary turns. This is a sword that performs rather than cuts."
"Ugh...!"
Erika's lips quivered. The bluntness of it made her eyes sting.
"But."
He went on.
"There are thorns hidden in the spectacle."
Her head snapped up. Julius was grinding the fallen ice fragments underfoot, looking down at her. His eyes were cold, but there was no contempt in them.
"Freeze the space to bind the enemy's feet, blind them with beauty, then cut off their breathing. Is that what you had in mind?"
"Yes, yes...!"
"The flowers aren't all sharp yet, and the thorns are still shallow. But the direction is right. You've worked hard."
Those few offhand words made something shift behind her eyes. Tears welled.
"Keep at it, and if questions about the sword ever come to you, knock on the door of this hall."
"Yes... yes, understood, Family Head-nim...!"
"Family Head." Julius smiled, barely. He set a hand on her head. "That's an awfully formal address for a thirteen-year-old. You can speak more freely."
"...What?"
"I mean you're allowed to call me Father."
"Oh..."
Tears burst from Erika's eyes. Her legs nearly gave out beneath her. She barely managed to stay standing.
"O-okay, understood. Fa... ther..."
She stumbled through the words and they came out hopelessly awkward. Sobs crowded her throat alongside the tears, and her voice barely worked. When she started crying properly, Julius looked genuinely at a loss. He swallowed a sigh and stroked her hair.
"I was too caught up in my own troubles to pay you proper attention. I'm sorry."
"N-no, it's fine, Fami... Fa, Father also had it hard..."
"Stop crying first." Julius's voice hardened. At that, Erika hiccuped and scrubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands. When she finally had herself under control, she bowed deeply.
"From... now on... I will work hard."
She said it, sheathed her sword, steadied her breathing, and turned around.
"See? I told you. Grandfather was going to like it."
Her nephew's smug grin drew a smile out of her despite herself. Still sniffling, she walked over and pulled him into a tight hug.
"Th-thank you."
"What did I even do?"
"Just... just thank you."
Tears and snot soaked into his clothes, but Kyle didn't pull away. He patted her on the back.
Not bad.
He'd smoothed things over between a father and daughter who had never known warmth. Erika's goodwill was a bonus on top of that. Among relatives who largely wanted nothing to do with him and his mother, he had secured himself a genuine ally.
After a long moment, Erika let him go. She bowed deeply to Julius one more time and left the Sword Peak Hall. She left far lighter than she'd arrived.
Now it was just Julius and Kyle again.
"You." Julius watched him quietly for a moment. "Was that deliberate?"
"What do you mean?"
"Erika. The reason you went out of your way to bring her, was that something you did for her sake?"
Julius's eyes sharpened, cutting straight through his five-year-old grandson's thoughts. Kyle shrugged.
"Not really. I just thought Auntie's swordwork was pretty and wanted to show you."
"Hmm."
"And Auntie was so scared of you, so I thought it would be nice if you two got closer. Then she'd be grateful to me, right?"
Kyle smiled, all open sweetness.
"The other relatives don't seem to like me and Mom much. But Auntie wasn't like that."
"Already building yourself some allies?"
"Families should get along."
"Ha." Julius laughed.
"You're right. Families should get along."
"Auntie's sword art is pretty, isn't it?"
"Quite pretty, I'll admit."
He stroked his chin and looked at Kyle with quiet satisfaction. Swordsmanship, spirit arts, and now this: an eye for how to navigate the world. It was impossible to believe he was only five.
"You've put me in a good mood. I wonder how I should repay that..."
"Give me a present."
Kyle grinned.
"A present. Tell me what you want, then. A toy? Sweets?"
"Come on, I'm not a little kid, I don't want things like that."
"If you aren't a little kid, who is?"
Fair enough. Kyle reminded himself that he was, technically, a five-year-old.
"I don't want toys or sweets."
"Then?"
"Let me into the Great Archive on the second floor."
"The archive?" Julius's eyes went wide.
"The Great Archive is full of books that are too difficult for you. And you haven't even awakened your spirit root yet. What would you do in there?"
"Study."
He said it like it was obvious.
"Grandfather can't play with me every day from now on. So I'll read books in the archive and study instead."
"Study..."
Julius thought for a moment. The Great Archive on the second floor held everything Alastor had gathered over five hundred years of existence. Mana cultivation, swordsmanship, magic. Every last text in it was beyond a five-year-old.
"The archive's books are divided into five tiers. Kyle, for now I'll grant you access to the lowest, tier five," Julius said. "And among the tier-five books, you may only access those on swordsmanship. You can study the forms in advance. Mana cultivation and magic, those are off-limits."
"Why?"
"Because reading them would be of no use to you."
"Understood."
Kyle grinned and nodded. Tier-five books, and only those on swordsmanship at that. Something about the restriction felt almost endearing.
He really does want to raise me as a swordsman above all else.
Not that Kyle minded. He loved the sword. He still believed he had been born to hold one, and that he had been reborn to hold it again.
"Oh, and there's one more thing I'm curious about."
"What's that?"
"The Sword Flower Garden."
Kyle's golden eyes lit up.
"I'm your grandson, so I'm allowed in, right?"
"There is nowhere in Gladiheim a pure-blood cannot go, except for the Sword Tower itself."
"Then, can I pull out the weapons in the Sword Flower Garden?"
"No." Julius gave him a look. "The weapons there belong to retainers and enemies the Alastor name has deemed worth remembering. They are not to be drawn carelessly."
"Then, is touching them alright?"
"Why do you ask?"
"There might be a dokkaebi dwelling in them, like in Fenris."
Kyle glanced at Fenris, still embedded in the floor of the Sword Peak Hall. The moment his gaze landed on it, dark smoke rippled, and a low wolf's growl reached him.
"That mutt growls because it doesn't like me. But the dokkaebis in the Sword Flower Garden might actually like me."
At dawn, when he had encountered the lightning spirit, Kyle had become fully certain that he possessed the talent for spirit arts. Arian had said spirits and dokkaebis were different things. But he had perceived the mutt inside Fenris, which meant this body had some kind of gift where dokkaebis were concerned, no doubt about it.
So he wanted to find out.
He couldn't exactly learn mana cultivation or sword forms yet anyway.
Julius stroked his chin, thinking it over. Fenris was the Sword Demon's blade from five hundred years ago. The weapons in the Sword Flower Garden were not that old, but all of them had belonged to warriors who had left their mark on an era. Some of them might hold a dokkaebi just as Fenris did.
"Touching them, I'll allow." Julius nodded slowly. His grandson had gifts in abundance. If he wanted to develop all of them for the sake of the sword, there was no reason to refuse.
Kyle cheered.
"Will you go to the archive now? Or the Sword Flower Garden?"
"Come on, right now I have to play with Grandfather."
Kyle grabbed the wooden sword and bounced over to Julius.
"After today we can't play every day, right? So today I'll play enough that Grandfather won't feel like he missed out."
"You make it sound like you're playing for my sake."
"Isn't it fun playing with me?"
"Would I still be here if it wasn't?"
Julius chuckled and raised his hand. The wooden sword resting near the throne floated up and flew into his grip.
"Did you read the sword technique primer I gave you yesterday?"
"All of it."
"You finished it already?"
"Yes. None of it was difficult. Why would reading it take long?"
"Ha ha."
He had suspected as much after watching Kyle reproduce Erika's Snow Flower Sword Art earlier. His grandson's confident reply made Julius smile, something a little mischievous in it.
"The foundations must be laid down solidly. Even advanced sword forms cannot reach their true power without a proper base to stand on."
"Then today, let's play with basic swordsmanship."
Kyle smiled, his golden eyes bright. Julius's eyebrows climbed. Play with basic swordsmanship. Coming from his young grandson, the phrasing was genuinely charming.
"Amusing way to put it. All right, let's play with basic swordsmanship."
The words had barely left Julius's mouth before Kyle closed in. A thrust, honest and precise, with no tricks in it. Thwack! Julius raised his wooden sword and knocked it aside without effort. The blade glanced off to the side, but Kyle didn't flinch and switched straight to a slash.
Whoosh! The wooden sword swept toward Julius's waist.
Not an ounce of sloppiness.
Julius marveled inwardly. Most young children break their center of gravity when they swing with real force. But Kyle's lower body was as solid as an old tree with roots sunk deep into the earth.
The elixir? Not explanation enough on its own. His balance was flawless, the kind that came from a veteran who had swung a sword so many times the act itself was no longer conscious thought.
Crack, crack, crack! The two wooden swords clashed without pause. Downward cut, upward cut, horizontal slash, thrust. The most fundamental movements of swordsmanship flowed one after another in an unbroken chain.
Hmm.
Kyle set his jaw. Even from Julius's plain basics, the pressure felt like a mountain bearing down on him. Block and he was pushed back. Try to sidestep and the space shrank. A cold thrill ran through him, and the corner of his mouth curled up.
He had fought countless powerful opponents in his past life, but few had ever pressured him with nothing but clean, unadorned fundamentals. The thrill coursed through him as he drove his sword forward. Inside, he was burning with it. His movements, though, grew quieter and quieter, unnecessary force draining away until only the optimal path remained, the one the basics themselves demanded.
"Stop."
The wooden swords went still. Julius lowered his.
"I did only give you that primer yesterday, didn't I?" he murmured, smiling.
"I can do more," Kyle said, clicking his tongue. His arms and legs were trembling on their own, though. Elixir or not, swinging a wooden sword that hard for that long had his whole body screaming.
"Too much will injure the body." Julius walked over and stroked Kyle's sweat-drenched hair.
"Truly... magnificent."
The word wasn't enough by half, but Julius couldn't think of one that was.
"There is no child in this world who could wield a sword like this at your age. In all of Alastor's history, none have, except for the Founding Ancestor himself."
From the head of the Alastor family, that was the highest praise he could give. Julius didn't think for a moment he was overstating it.
"Kyle." He lowered himself to one knee so their eyes were level.
"I hope you grow up quickly." He meant every word.
"I want to grow up quickly too," Kyle said, his golden eyes fixed on Julius.
"But I also hope Grandfather stops getting older."
"Why is that?"
"If I grow up strong and you've grown old and weak by then, beating you later wouldn't feel like much."
"Ha." Julius laughed.
"Ha ha ha..."
It was, he thought, the best thing a grandson could ever say to him.
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