WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 96: A Great Courage

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Erdera stared at Kyle with a baffled expression. A chimera with master-servant instincts carved into its very being had made a choice that could put its master at risk.

Surprising as it was, from a practical standpoint the choice was hard to respect. A chimera approaching perfection, maker unknown, an existence that might bare its fangs under a new master come tomorrow.

At the same time, its magical value was immense. Had it not been under Alastor's care, Erdera would have dragged it to the Association's research lab by force.

[Lastea Tower Master, is this really acceptable?]

The Association Master. An impressive title, but in the end, a figurehead. The ones who held real power in the Mage Association across generations were the tower masters who put their own names forward.

That said, mages as a breed were mostly missing a few screws, not quite right in the head. The Association Master was a position for a mage who didn't act like a mage, one who had to coordinate the opinions of mages locked inside their own worlds, show face at public functions, and walk the tightrope between factions.

So Erdera did not voice those feelings directly to Kyle. Kyle was the young lord of Alastor, cherished by every pureblood in the family, including the Family Head himself. Fifteen years old right now, but as close to future Family Head as anyone could get.

'The Thunder Emperor delegated all decisions regarding Lady Lucia to Sir Kyle.'

That alone told her how enormous the Thunder Emperor's favor toward this boy truly was.

[Sir Kyle made that decision. We can't push any further.]

[But...]

[I know, it may be dangerous. Still, Lady Lucia resisted the master-servant instinct. Her choice was her own, made against that instinct.]

The voice of Akarion in Erdera's mind was strangely animated. Akarion was genuinely moved that Lucia, a chimera, had been capable of doing what she did.

"Sir Kyle."

Akarion's lips, curved in a quiet smile, parted.

"Will you send blood once a month?"

At that question, Erdera swallowed a surging sigh. It was as good as announcing he had entirely given up on the collar.

"Did I not just tell you? That request should go to Lucia, not me."

"Ah, right, so I did. Lady Lucia, could you send blood once a month? I don't need much, only as much as was drawn earlier."

Lucia, her face still flushed red, had been keeping her head down. She slowly raised it.

"If I... feel like it, I'll send it."

"Hm, it's a shame it isn't a firm yes, but... nothing to be done. I'll just have to shower Lady Lucia with gifts until she feels like it."

Akarion said that and moved his hand. The collar Lucia had hurled out the window drifted back to him on its own.

"If anything feels off with your body, contact me anytime. I'll come as quickly as I can and look you over."

Akarion turned on his heel. Erdera was briefly flustered, but she caught his glance, let out a sigh, and nodded. As the two made for the door, Kyle called after them.

"Is this it, then?"

"For now, yes. You both made your choices, and the Association Master and I have accepted them."

Akarion looked back at Kyle with a faint smile.

"Let's meet again when you're ready to accept that request."

With those words, Akarion and Erdera left the room. They had withdrawn more cleanly than Kyle had expected, and he blinked a few times.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

He was still looking at the closed door when Lucia's small voice reached him from right beside him. He glanced over and saw her fidgeting with her fingers.

"No matter how overwhelmed I was, I said things to you that I should not have. Please forgive me."

"Forgive you for what. I liked getting cursed at, honestly. Don't do it often, but it's fine sometimes."

"I, I will never let this happen again."

"The first time is always the hard part. After that it gets easier. Now we know you can get angry and you can curse. Next time it'll come out just as naturally."

"That won't happen."

Her voice was small and her face still faintly pink. But her expression was not stiff. Having let that surge of feeling out was a relief.

"I..."

Lucia hesitated before speaking.

"If you had ordered me to wear the collar, Kyle, I would have worn it. I would not have resented you for it."

"I know. And that would have been the end of it."

"Yes. While hating myself for it, without end."

"Is it different now?"

"A little... yes. I don't hate the version of myself that said no."

Lucia smiled faintly. Kyle smiled back and got to his feet.

"Disliking something is disliking it."

Liking what you like, disliking what you dislike. An utterly simple logic, but following your heart rather than attaching reasons to everything left fewer regrets.

Even if following your heart led somewhere terrible, in the end it was your own choice, and there was no one to blame. That was why Kyle held no resentment whatsoever toward Ruin, the one who had killed him five hundred years ago.

'It stings my pride a little that you regretted killing me.'

Or was that the wrong way to see it? He had been acknowledged as a worthy rival, so maybe that was something to be glad about. Kyle sat with those complicated feelings for a moment and came to understand, just a little, where what he was feeling now was coming from.

'Right.'

Walking out of the room, Kyle gave a small nod to himself.

'This is sympathy.'

Helenas had said it.

For Ruin Alastor, the sword had been proof.

The thought remnant of the Demon King Astaros had said it too.

Born into absurdity, given absurd power, and so he had tried to use that power in service of his kind and his world. Everyone had demanded responsibility and proof from Ruin Alastor, and Ruin Alastor had given it.

'I was never a particularly pure-hearted person. But back then, you were enjoying our fight in a purely honest way.'

Just as the Sword Demon had mourned death, the end of the fight, so had Ruin. In a life spent swinging his sword for responsibility and proof, the fight with the Sword Demon had been the one purely honest thing, free of any responsibility or proof.

'If I had known, I would have turned and run.'

Kyle smiled bitterly and ran his hand along Fenris.

He had no appetite.

* * *

Akarion and Erdera left the infirmary and left Gladiheim right away. They had accomplished every purpose of their visit, and both were busy people, so they declined even the offer of a meal.

After nineteen years, Lavian Alastor had woken, and the news was announced far and wide. A celebration naturally spread through Gladiheim, and everyone in the stronghold rejoiced at her return.

It was not a full recovery.

Only as much had been returned as was given. Lavian's left arm and leg still had sensation but would not move. Otherwise her body was sound. After nineteen years of sleep her physical condition had weakened, but with consistent care she would regain her strength quickly enough.

"I'll have to rely on a wheelchair, though."

The dining hall on the first floor of the Sword Tower. Lavian, seated beside Julius, spoke. Even now she sat in a wheelchair.

"Waking up at all is something to be grateful for. I've said it countless times and I'll say it again. Kyle, thank you for waking this old woman."

Her gaze alone was so sweet it felt like it might give him diabetes. Kyle, seated across from Julius and Lavian at the center of the table, nodded with a smile. He had been smiling so long that the corners of his mouth had gone numb.

"You won't be sitting for the rest of your life."

Barkas spoke up. The largest of the relatives by far, he was now hunched over, personally attending to Lavian's meal.

"As much as was given is returned. That means somewhere out there is the left arm and leg mother hasn't gotten back yet. All we have to do is get them back."

The brow that had always been pinched, giving Barkas a permanently irritated look, now drew a soft curve.

Unavoidable, really. Julius had kept his feelings from his children and grandchildren out of consideration for the Family Head's dignity, authority, and the matter of succession. Lavian had not.

In the Sword Tower, Julius had been the whip and Lavian the carrot. That was why her absence, stretching across nineteen years, had been so devastating to the purebloods of the tower.

"I feel grateful just to open my eyes and see you all again."

"But Mother, with your body in its current state, you won't even be able to swing a sword."

"Barkas. I appreciate you thinking of me, but value your own household before me."

"Wh... what?"

"Is this old woman the only family you have?"

Lavian shot him a look, and Barkas's shoulders jolted inward.

"I heard from Erika. If you were going to divorce my daughter-in-law, you should have at least raised Bruno properly."

Lavian's gaze moved to Bruno. The eye she had aimed at Barkas now traced a warm curve toward him. Bruno might be a similar size to Barkas now, but the Bruno in Lavian's memory was the newborn she had known nineteen years ago.

"Th... that..."

"You pushed your stubbornness onto Bruno, raised him hard and rigid by it, didn't you? Barkas, does growing older make you forget what you were like as a child? You used to cry in my arms all the time because you were scared of your father, and the moment you became a father yourself you turned around and acted just like Julius?"

Barkas's face went scarlet. He opened his mouth to say something, and Lavian gave his lips a light slap.

"What excuse were you about to make? The divorce I can overlook since it was decided while I was asleep, but now that I'm awake I won't stand for any of this. Go to my daughter-in-law, beg her properly, and get remarried."

"No, mother, that's all in the past now."

"Why did you divorce her?"

"Part of it was a difference in temperament..."

"Wasn't she someone you fell head over heels for and chased after yourself? Did living together disappoint you?"

Barkas's face went even redder, looking about ready to burst.

"After mother fell ill, I was... very on edge. So..."

"If you still have feelings left, write her a letter today."

Barkas couldn't find a reply and bowed his head low. Gerhard let out a quiet laugh at the sight, and Lavian's gaze snapped to him instantly.

"Gerhard. What exactly do you have to be so pleased about?"

"Pardon...?"

"Karthan has two sons, Barkas has a son too. Dante had a lovely daughter, and Arian had one son and one daughter. Why are you still alone?"

"I... I haven't found anyone I wanted to marry. After mother collapsed I wasn't at peace, and Gladiheim's administrative affairs have kept me busy..."

"Is that so? Now that I've woken up you can be at peace. This old woman's left arm and leg don't move, but my right arm works fine and my mind is still turning. I'll help with the administrative work too, so fill that empty space in your head with thoughts of getting married."

Gerhard's eyes wavered. He glanced automatically toward his older sister Katarina. Of Julius's six sons and three daughters, the ones still unmarried were Katarina, Gerhard, Roel, Seros, and Erika.

Roel, Seros, and Erika were not at an age where marriage was pressing. Katarina was different. Katarina caught Gerhard's look, and her gaze turned sharp as a sword's edge, but the moment Lavian's attention shifted to her, it vanished at once.

"Katarina, you..."

"I have no intention of marrying until mother has fully recovered."

Katarina said it quickly.

"And as the captain of the Aurora Knights and one who carries the Alastor pureblood line, I hold that any man who would be my husband must be a finer swordsman than I."

"Hm... well, that... fair enough."

"But mother, those who surpass me with a sword are mostly already married, and those still unmarried have their reasons for it. I am a swordsman myself, but those who live by the sword are twisted in character, more or less. One need only look at my brother-in-law."

Katarina let the point drift naturally toward Aslan. Aslan, who had been shrinking in the corner of the table, flinched and buried his head down.

"I, I'm sorry...!"

"Sister, why do you have to pick on him again?"

"A brother-in-law like that deserves it for a lifetime."

Katarina said it in a cold voice, and Lavian nodded along. She narrowed her eyes at Aslan.

Twelve years of Closed-Door Training, apparently. Thanks to that, Arian had to tend to her growing belly alone, and face the pain of childbirth without her husband beside her. What family could forgive that? Even if others forgave him, Lavian could not. She had been robbed of the chance to be there and give her blessing the moment Arian bore her first son.

"Aslan Antares."

"Yes... mother-in-law..."

"Don't call me that. I have no intention of thinking of you as a son-in-law."

"..."

"If you want to be recognized as one, you'll have to do a great deal right from here on. At the very least you should match that remarkable son of yours, who doesn't take after you in the slightest."

"I, I will recover mother-in-law's left arm and leg."

He couldn't simply stop calling her that just because she had told him to. Aslan lifted his bowed head and put resolve into his eyes.

"You'll recover my left arm and leg? You mean you'll leave my daughter's side again?"

"Th... that..."

"Kaya is only three years old. You'd leave that precious child?"

Whatever Aslan said, there was no escaping. In the end he could only shout another apology and bury his head again.

"Please don't scold my father too harshly."

Kyle quietly spoke up. Aslan shed tears of overwhelming gratitude. Lavian looked at Kyle with eyes dripping sweetness and let out a sigh all the same.

"How can this child have such a kind heart? Not only does he keep calling that good-for-nothing his father, he even covers for him..."

"Well, he is my father, that's a fact. For my sake today at least, please let him have a seat at the table. Kaya is watching too."

Kaya sat on Julius's knee, toying with his beard. At the mention of the youngest grandchild, Lavian gave a low murmur and nodded. Memories from that age tended to last a long time. Whatever kind of son-in-law he was, he was Kaya's father. Picking on him like this in front of everyone was not good for the child.

"A letter has come from Ransel."

Julius, whose beard Kaya had been tugging at freely, spoke up. It was a natural shift of topic to keep Lavian from pressing Aslan further.

"Congratulating you on opening your eyes, and saying they'd like to send a gift."

"It isn't only Ransel. Letters have arrived from everyone our family is acquainted with."

Gerhard continued.

"From the imperial court as well, of course."

"Nothing surprising there. They'll want me to come for an audience once I've recovered, I imagine. Tell them this old woman has a long way to go before she's well and can't say when that will be, so she won't be able to come."

"Understood."

Gerhard answered evenly and glanced at Kyle.

"A letter from the imperial court came for you as well. They want to commend you for repelling the Demon Tribe on Beltua Island."

"Do I have to go?"

"The relevant reports have all been sent already, so if you don't want to, you don't have to, but... it seems the Imperial Palace intends to host a party to coincide with your visit."

The eye behind his monocle held a teasing smile.

"A party for the young Alastor pureblood who defeated the Fist Demon. For Black Sword Kyle Alastor."

"..."

"If you have nothing urgent, I'd encourage you to attend. You're young, yes, but you command one of Gladiheim's knight orders, and the time has come for you to show your face properly in social circles."

Jade had not lied. Through this affair the Empire wanted to spread Kyle's name and achievement. Alastor may have been a house too great even for the imperial court to handle, but it was still a house within the Empire at the end of the day.

"A party at the Imperial Palace will draw royalty and nobles from the Empire and beyond. Among them will certainly be martial families."

Kyle's expression was one of pure reluctance. Gerhard added to his point. True to his role as Gladiheim's steward, he had read Kyle's mind fairly well.

"They aren't quite at Alastor's level, but there are houses on the continent called the Three Great Martial Families alongside Alastor. Vandemion and Izelion. Have you heard of them?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well... bold of you to say so. Arian?"

Gerhard looked over at her in disbelief, but she swirled her wine glass with a shameless expression and answered.

"Kyle never took much interest in that sort of thing."

"You should have taught him what every member of a great family ought to know."

"There weren't enough hours in the day even for cultivation techniques and swordsmanship. I meant to teach him later, but he entered the Cultivation Floors at eleven and I missed the window."

"Good grief..."

"But because he threw himself that deeply into the sword, he reached the level he's at now, didn't he? From our family's perspective, you should be praising him for it."

Gerhard pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple.

"Vandemion is... a family within the Empire, like us. They've produced the Imperial Guard Captain across generations as well. Izelion is a family rooted in the east, a closed house that rarely shows itself publicly."

"If it's a party at the Imperial Palace, we'd be able to meet Vandemion?"

"Most likely. Izelion might attend as well. Closed as they are, they share the name of the Three Great Martial Families with us, so they might very well take an interest in you."

"Hm..."

Kyle thought for a moment. A party for high nobility was uncomfortable and stuffy and sickening in every way, and the thought of attending grated. But he was curious about other houses said to be comparable to Alastor.

However. If he attended that party, his epithet Black Sword would be introduced to the great names of the continent. Kyle himself would have to say it aloud. Even imagining that was nauseating enough to turn his stomach.

[Hey, kid.]

As Kyle sat weighing it, someone spoke directly into his head.

Fragment had reached out to Kyle without him even opening his consciousness.

[Say you'll attend the party.]

'Why?'

[Didn't they just say you might meet Izelion? You haven't forgotten our promise?]

The promise, made in exchange for creating the Primordial Chaos Sword Canon, to cooperate in searching for someone, or something. Kyle let out a long breath and answered.

"I'll attend the party."

Debuting the Black Sword before the continent's social circles required a courage that dwarfed even the time he had thrown himself at Ruin Alastor.

Footnotes:

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