WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Reincarnation of the Sword Demon
Chapter 60
──────
From Whom?
Outside the workshop, Lucia and Bruno were waiting. Kyle immediately asked Bruno, who stood there with his arms crossed.
“What about the order uniforms?”
“I found a tailor, but if you want them made, we have to go in person and get measured.”
“Of course.”
Kyle had already heard that even pure-bloods needed a commission ticket to use the First Workshop. So before entering the First Workshop forge, he had asked Bruno in advance to find a tailor.
“Thanks to you, I burned through all my commission tickets.”
“So you regret it?”
“You annoying bastard.”
Bruno only grumbled under his breath and didn’t complain any further.
“Huh.”
Jade, who had come out with Kyle, looked back and forth between Lucia and Bruno, surprise in his eyes.
“So there’s another pure-blood young master. And... even a Demon Tribe half-blood young lady?”
Before Kyle came out of the Cultivation Floors, Bruno and Lucia had both shown their swords in the Exchange Tournament sparring matches, so Jade already knew who they were. Kyle poked Jade in the side and asked,
“Looks like you already saw their swords. How were they?”
“Do I have to be honest about this too?”
“Of course.”
“To be honest, that pure-blood young master over there was below my expectations. Maybe my expectations for the name Alastor were too high.”
Bruno’s face twisted at that. He glared with vicious eyes, but Jade didn’t look away.
“As for that Demon Tribe half-blood young lady... it was shocking. Before I saw your sword, the thing that shocked me most in the Exchange Tournament was her sword.”
“As expected.”
Kyle nodded and opened the roster.
“Honestly, I think four people is already enough to round out this order. Still, since my uncle gave me this roster, I’m planning to meet them one by one. Any good ones in here?”
“Hmm.”
For this, Jade was better suited than Lucia or Bruno. He stroked his chin and scanned the list.
“What kind are you looking for?”
“Someone good with a sword. Someone who loves the sword. Someone with fighting spirit and a hunger to win.”
“You’re not checking loyalty?”
“I’ll judge that myself after meeting them.”
“Young master, do you have prejudice against the Sword Church?”
Jade glanced up and checked Kyle’s expression.
“The ones who match your taste exactly are Sword Church disciples.”
Pursue the Sword, Love the Sword, Be Mad for the Sword. Those were the doctrines Evan, one of the Sword Church’s seven apostles, had spoken of four years ago.
“Not Sword Church.”
Bruno frowned and snapped it out.
“The Sword Church are the ones who have stood against Alastor for five hundred years.”
“That’s way too exaggerated. Stood against, my ass. The Sword Church has never once fully committed to invading Gladiheim in five hundred years.”
Jade snorted and shrugged.
“Every fifty years or so, the Sword Church Master visits Gladiheim, and more often than that, apostles or disciples poke around. That’s all, right?”
“Do you know how many Sword Church swords are stuck in the Discard Path?”
Bruno growled.
“And why are you speaking informally?”
“Come on, young master, I’m twenty-three. How old are you?”
“...”
Bruno clamped his mouth shut, so Kyle answered for him.
“He’s thirty.”
“Wh- what kind of bullshit is that? I’m twenty!”
Bruno barked, and Jade blinked.
“Twenty... younger than you look. Honestly, thirty sounds more believable.”
“Shut up...!”
“Anyway, I’m older, so I can speak casually, right?”
With a sly grin, Jade patted Bruno’s shoulder.
“And listen. As far as I know, there are five Sword Church disciples in this Exchange Tournament. If even I know that, there’s no way Gladiheim’s Secret Shadow Corps doesn’t.”
“...”
“The broad-minded Alastor Family Head let Sword Church disciples in without filtering them out. So are you rejecting Sword Church disciples on your own?”
“You... why are you defending Sword Church disciples so hard? Are you one too?”
Bruno asked with wide eyes, and Jade grabbed his stomach and laughed.
“I’m not a disciple. I’ve been proselytized a few times, though.”
“Then why defend them?”
“Rough world. I got help from Sword Church people a few times. You know this? Their branches will feed you and give you a room for free if you show up carrying a sword. Well, they do push you, saying that if you eat the food, you’re joining.”
“Th- then that makes you a Sword Church disciple!”
“Does eating free food make me one? I don’t really agree with their ideas. Not that those guys even have much of an idea system to begin with...”
While listening, Kyle checked the list. Sure enough, two names on it were marked as Sword Church disciples.
“Are we going to meet them?”
Lucia asked.
“I saw their swords the day before yesterday. They were all quite skilled.”
“Stronger than you?”
“We would have to cross blades to know for sure, but the swords they showed in sparring were not at a level that would put me in real difficulty.”
Lucia answered in a calm voice. Kyle folded the documents he had opened.
“Let’s at least see their faces. Might as well greet them first.”
“Greet them?”
“The Sword Church Master has been saying for five hundred years that she wants Fenris back, right?”
Kyle smirked and tapped Fenris.
“They probably recognized Fenris yesterday too. So I should tell them in advance... ask them to pass a greeting to their Master.”
Bruno’s jaw dropped at those words. His whole body trembled, then he stammered,
“H- hey! Do we really need to go greet them? Maybe they didn’t recognize your sword as Fenris...!”
“Then I’ll go tell them myself. This sword is Fenris, and things just turned out this way, so please pass that along to your Master.”
“You lunatic! What if the Sword Church Master tries to kill you and take Fenris?!”
“She’s probably not that kind of person.”
Five hundred years was a long time.
Kyle remembered the Sword Church Master. Helenas. The little girl he had saved from a slave market five hundred years ago. An elf who had not a speck of sword talent, yet chose the sword as her fate and swung it for five centuries.
You had no Sword Talent. The sword never loved you at all.
Bruno shouted something from behind him, but Kyle ignored it and kept walking.
But if you swung a sword for five hundred years, your unrequited love must have achieved something.
Compared to elves, humans were a weak race.
Had every Alastor Family Head who existed across those five hundred years been weaker than Helenas? Kyle could not believe that.
If you had decided to do it, you could have reclaimed Fenris long ago. The fact that you didn’t means... Helenas, you wanted someone qualified for the fate you chose.
To be honest, all of this might have been only Kyle’s own assumption. Helenas might instead fly into a rage, kill Kyle, and seize Fenris.
Then there’s no helping it. I’m Raikal, so I’ll just have to ask her to go easy on me.
When it came to things like this, the Sword Demon did not care about dignity. Kyle chuckled and tapped Fenris.
Hey, mutt. You heard too, right? That little runt Helenas is apparently acting all weighty now as the Sword Church Master.
At his snickering words, a wolf’s howl came from Fenris.
For some reason, it sounded like laughter.
When Kyle first heard about the Sword Church, he had honestly wondered whether they were some secret society that hid their identities.
“Huh.”
Seeing this now, he realized that had just been his own misunderstanding. Five people sat together in the shared cafeteria of Hilt, the lower district. They were all wearing black cloaks with metal pauldrons.
He looked around the cafeteria, wondering if it was a trend in this era, but among everyone there, only those five wore cloaks with metal pauldrons.
Evan wore one like that too.
Evan, who had been a Sword Church apostle, wore silver pauldrons. Of these five, three had green pauldrons and two had yellow ones. It seemed that cloak was Sword Church formal wear, and the pauldron color showed rank among disciples.
Which meant the yellow-pauldron ones were stronger than the green-pauldron ones. Kyle recalled the roster he had looked at earlier. Out of the five Sword Church disciples in this Exchange Tournament, only two had names on his list. Kyle walked up to the yellow-pauldron disciples and asked,
“Jenafelt and Kroll, correct?”
From the moment Kyle’s group entered, people had already stopped eating. The beloved grandson who had made Thunder Emperor Julius Alastor leave home. The same grandson who had stayed shut inside the Sword Tower for four years, then suddenly barged into yesterday’s arena and defeated Rending Fang Jade in a single strike.
Now the one behind that shocking move had suddenly appeared in the shared cafeteria. Murmurs grew around the room, and the Sword Church disciples seated at the table stood up.
“Yes.”
A blonde woman with yellow pauldrons smiled faintly and placed a hand on her chest.
“My name is indeed Jenafelt.”
“I am Kroll.”
The bald young man also placed a hand on his chest and introduced himself. After that, the other three Sword Church disciples introduced themselves as well.
“Kyle... Alastor-nim, correct? What brings you to us?”
“I came to greet you.”
“A greeting.”
Jenafelt tilted her head with a warm smile.
“I thought Alastors were not very friendly toward Sword Church disciples. Looks like my prejudice was larger than I thought.”
“Oh, come on, what are you saying? If our family were truly unfriendly toward Sword Church disciples, would you be able to sit here and eat at leisure?”
Kyle said it with a smile of his own.
“Ah, I don’t mean that sarcastically. I don’t know about everyone in my family, but at least I have no prejudice against the Sword Church. Whatever each person’s circumstances are, you are all swordsmen who love the sword and have devoted your lives to it, aren’t you?”
The disciples stared sharply at Kyle, as if wondering whether there was another meaning behind his words. Under those gazes, Kyle opened both arms as if he had no hostility and nothing to hide.
“We’re all those kinds of swordsmen, so in a broad sense, you could say we’re friends. Aren’t we?”
“Does that mean... young master, we may understand this as you wishing to join the Sword Church?”
Jenafelt asked with shining eyes, and Kyle drew a line immediately.
“No, not that.”
“...”
“I’m friendly toward your religion, and curious about it too, but I have no intention of joining.”
“Young master, this may be a rude question, so I will apologize in advance.”
Jenafelt bowed her head first and asked,
“What... did you want to say, that you came to us?”
“I told you, I came to pass a greeting. But hearing your question, now I also have something I want to say besides a greeting.”
Kyle dropped into an empty chair at the table.
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
At that question, asked while crossing his legs as if this were his own living room, Bruno’s face crumpled hard. Strictly speaking, this was not a living room, but it was still a place Kyle could sit however he liked.
This was inside Gladiheim. Other than parts of the Sword Tower, there was nowhere in Gladiheim a pure-blood could not come and go freely. And this was a shared cafeteria used by trainees on ordinary days.
Even so, isn’t this guy scared of anything...?
Bruno’s thoughts had not changed since earlier. He still believed Kyle had no need to approach Sword Church disciples first.
And what does that question even mean? Why ask why they didn’t come to him...?
Bruno had no idea what Kyle was thinking. Jade and Lucia were no different.
“Young master.”
Jenafelt tilted her head. At some point, the conversation with the Sword Church disciples had turned into a conversation between Kyle and Jenafelt alone. Kroll wore the same pauldron color, but Jenafelt seemed to hold greater speaking authority.
Kyle felt the same way. Jenafelt was stronger than Kroll.
“As for why we would seek out young master... I cannot think of a reason.”
“When I entered this cafeteria.”
Kyle smiled and looked around.
“Everyone looked at my face first.”
“...”
“But Jenafelt, Kroll. You two looked at something else instead of my face.”
Tap.
Kyle tapped Fenris at his waist with his hand.
“You looked at this sword. Jenafelt, be honest. You know what this sword is, don’t you?”
“...”
“Or was I wrong? Well, yesterday this sword did suddenly fly down from the sky. Maybe it just looked more interesting than my face. If that’s all it was, then what I just said is pretty embarrassing.”
Kyle chuckled and drew Fenris. The moment he did, Jenafelt and Kroll flinched backward. Kyle looked over Fenris’s blade once, then his expression turned cold.
“A mere sword dares make me feel embarrassed. I can’t tolerate that. Lucia.”
“Yes, Kyle-nim.”
“Break this bastard with your sword.”
“Yes.”
If it had been Bruno or Jade, they might have hesitated in confusion. Lucia did not. Not that she lacked human emotion; she was startled too. But stronger than that feeling was Lucia’s priority: she put Kyle’s words first.
Chaang! Blood Fang came out of its sheath. Lucia’s advancing eyes locked onto Fenris. Ssssss... Aura as red as blood wrapped around Blood Fang. Its blood-red blade mixed with the color of Lucia’s aura and gave off a deeply ominous blood light.
Without changing his expression, Kyle held Fenris out to the side so Lucia could swing Blood Fang comfortably. Soon she stepped into range and brought Blood Fang down at Fenris.
“Huh.”
Lucia tried to swing with full power, but she could not carry it through to the end. Because of Kyle’s command.
The command she had heard was to break Fenris, not cut off a person’s neck.
“What if you hadn’t been able to stop?”
Kyle asked with a dry laugh.
With a pale face, Jenafelt had shoved her head between Fenris and Blood Fang. Behind her, Kroll had drawn his sword and was awkwardly aiming it toward Blood Fang.
Kroll tried to block Blood Fang with his sword, but Jenafelt had tried to block Blood Fang with her own neck.
“Y-young master.”
Jenafelt forced out the words. Her face was pale with fear, but Kyle could tell that fear was not fear of her neck being cut. Jenafelt had felt pure fear that Fenris might actually break.
“Th-this sword must not be handled carelessly.”
“Why not? This is my sword. If I felt humiliated through this sword, then breaking it is my freedom.”
“Th-this sword is not... young master’s sword.”
“Then whose sword is it?”
Kyle asked with a teasing smile. Jenafelt swallowed hard, then looked down at Fenris near her neck with adoring, honey-dripping eyes.
“This sword... is the sword our Master longs for desperately.”
“So you did know.”
If Kyle had been mistaken about Jenafelt and Kroll knowing Fenris, then there would have been no helping it. He could not just watch Fenris, reunited after five hundred years, snap in two. Before Lucia’s blade fell, Kyle would have stepped in himself.
Maybe Fenris could have endured even if I didn’t step in.
[Grrrr...]
An angry wolf’s growl leaked out of Fenris. It seemed furious that Kyle had tried a test like this and talked about breaking it.
Hey, you think I’d really have left you there to break? I was going to step in. I would’ve looked even worse in front of everyone, but for you, I can crush my pride as much as I want.
At his calming words, the wolf growl faded. Kyle raised Fenris slightly and brought its blade close to Jenafelt’s neck.
“You also know the name of this sword your Master longs for, right?”
“...”
“It’s funny to come this far and still pretend not to know. Say it. Maybe you’re mistaken. Unlike you, I don’t lie about things like this. Say the name, and I’ll tell you whether you’re right or wrong.”
The whisper, paired with his sly smile, sounded irritating even to Kyle himself. Jenafelt let out a short sigh and spoke.
“Five hundred years ago, it was the beloved sword of Sword Demon Raikal. Ruin Alastor took it as spoils and sealed it deep in the Sword Tower for a long time. Fenris is this sword’s name.”
“Wrong.”
“...?”
“I’m joking, correct.”
Kyle smiled and withdrew Fenris. Even though that terrifying blade had been pulled back from her Adam’s apple, Jenafelt strangely looked disappointed.
“I asked just now, but didn’t get an answer. What would you have done if Lucia failed to stop?”
“What would I do? I would have died. My neck would have been cut.”
Jenafelt straightened the bent-forward posture she had taken and rubbed the neck that had just touched Fenris.
“That’s all? You didn’t think she’d stop, or think it was bluster, anything like that?”
“The situation was too urgent to think that far before moving. If you feel sorry toward me, there is no need. If I can offer my life for Fenris, that is a joyful and honorable thing.”
Jenafelt stared at Fenris with dazed, wet eyes. Her cheeks were flushed like a girl in love. Looking at her expression, Kyle let out a hollow laugh.
“You’re insane.”
It was his honest impression. Jenafelt showed no sign of offense, and glanced at Kroll, who was still awkwardly holding his sword. At her gaze, Kroll flinched, quickly sheathed his weapon, and bowed.
“S-sorry, Jenafelt-nim...”
“This is not something you apologize to me for, Kroll-nim. Your apology should go to Alastor’s young masters. You dared draw your sword in front of them.”
Jenafelt wore a faint smile, but her eyes toward Kroll were cold as ice. That gaze softened when it turned to Kyle.
“I apologize on Kroll’s behalf. Please forgive him.”
“Yes, I forgive him.”
Kyle spun Fenris, still in his hand, and drove it into the floor where everyone could see.
“I have one thing I’m curious about. Why did you come to Gladiheim?”
“We came to proselytize.”
Jenafelt answered proudly.
“By the declaration of Thunder Emperor Julius Alastor, many young martial artists gathered in Gladiheim. Those gathered here are not all the young martial artists of the continent, and not everyone gathered is a swordsman. Even so, it is true that most are swordsmen.”
“Well, yes. Our family’s knights are overwhelmingly swordsmen.”
“Yes. So this is a good place for our Sword Church to proselytize. We came to show how excellent the Sword Church’s sword is, to raise interest in the Sword Church, and to recruit martial artists.”
“So you never intended from the start to swear loyalty to Alastor and be appointed as knights?”
“Regretfully, our loyalty is already given to the sword, the Sword Church, and our Master. If you understand that and still accept even a fourth loyalty, then we are willing to become Alastor knights.”
It sounded like she was readily agreeing. Kyle quite liked that answer. In one way or another, Kyle’s true nature was closer to swordsman than knight.
“Ah, that won’t work then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I decided to create a new knight order. So if your swords were impressive, I was going to lure you over and ask if you’d become knights... but fourth is too late, no?”
Even so, since he had decided to create a knight order this time, Kyle rested his chin on his hand and smiled.
“Hmm, not even fourth. First is the sword, second is Sword Church, third is the Sword Church Master? If you swore to be appointed, then fourth would be Alastor, and fifth would be me, the commander? Then this really won’t work.”
“Your order is incorrect. I, Jenafelt, serve our Master first, the sword second, and Sword Church third.”
In a fanatical whisper, Jenafelt stared at Fenris with yearning eyes.
“I never imagined... we would welcome Fenris like this. Young Master Kyle. You said you came to greet us. Does that mean... you came to inform us that you are the current owner of Fenris?”
“That too.”
Tap.
Kyle lightly nudged Fenris’s blade with his foot. At that, Jenafelt’s eyes trembled, as if she could not forgive him for daring to touch Fenris with his foot.
“I also came to ask you to pass a greeting to the Sword Church Master.”
“To the Master...?”
“Yes. The Sword Church Master wants Fenris after five hundred years, right?”
“...”
“Then please tell her this. I became the current master of Fenris. For five hundred years Fenris sat quietly as decoration deep in the Sword Tower, but now that it is in my hand, it will not be used as gently as before.”
Her eyes trembled again at what followed.
“This bastard was not made as decoration. It was like that from the beginning, and five hundred years ago it was used very well for its purpose. So I will use it for its purpose too. I will swing it to my heart’s content for all the years it sat unused...”
Tap.
Kyle nudged Fenris again with his toe.
“I will use it even better than it was used five hundred years ago. So tell the Sword Church Master properly. She is a long-lived elf, so for the next hundred years or so, I hope she stays healthy as she has until now. Then someday after I die, she can make her own compromise with our family and receive Fenris.”
“...”
“I don’t know whether Fenris a hundred years from now will still be the Fenris the Sword Church Master remembered. You know how it is, swords come to resemble their owners.”
Kyle smiled mischievously.
It was an extremely provocative thing to say. Kroll’s eyes trembled, and the smile vanished from Jenafelt’s lips.
“Young Master Kyle. I find your words hard to understand.”
Jenafelt spoke.
“Most of all, I find it hard to understand when you say you will use it better than it was used five hundred years ago. That sounds as if... Young Master Kyle, you are saying you will use it better than the Sword Demon... its former owner.”
“You heard that right.”
Kyle laughed lightly as he answered.
“If someone five hundred years later is worse than someone from five hundred years ago, that’s too damn embarrassing. I wasn’t even born on some roadside either. I was born lacking nothing in environment or talent. Of course I should be better than Sword Demon.”
“Young Master Kyle.”
Jenafelt’s voice turned even colder.
“Do you believe you possess the qualifications worthy of being Fenris’s current owner?”
“Yes.”
Kyle answered without the slightest hesitation.
“The Family Head acknowledges it, Fenris acknowledges it, and I... well, I acknowledge myself. Isn’t that enough?”
Kyle slowly rose from the chair.
“Then from whom else do I need my qualifications acknowledged?”
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