WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS
Translator: Ryuu
Editor: Abstract
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
SSS-CLASS HUNTER WHO DIES TO LIVE
Chapter 394: The Time He Waited, The Time He Walked (7)
His master was not a perfect person.
[That's not how you do it. Look closely.]
There was always a hint of excitement in those words.
[Well done. You're quite good.]
Those words were always tinged with a bit of jealousy.
[I have nothing more to teach you in this area. You're better at it than I am.]
And those words were always mixed with a touch of despair.
It wasn't solely because he was particularly perceptive that he could sense these emotions. It was because his master made no effort to hide them.
When he had first joined, his master had made it clear.
[I will treat you exactly as you are.]
[......]
[I won’t embellish. I won’t hide. I won’t deceive. You will always see me as I truly am. The me you see will correspond exactly to the depth of my essence.]
The master looked him straight in the eye.
[Therefore, you must become strong.]
[......]
[Sometimes people claim they’re just being 'honest' as an excuse for their behavior. What they forget is that anyone’s heart can be sharp enough to cut through someone else's. Just as there’s no etiquette in carrying an unsheathed sword around, dealing with someone frankly is never just a heartwarming tale.]
The master took hold of both his shoulders and continued in a firm tone:
[Yet despite that, I will be honest with you. Your heart will be cut by me countless times. Be prepared for that. Understand?]
He nodded.
It was as his master said. Raw honesty was indeed a terrifying thing. Through actual combat, he learned that even when the people of Taeeumgul clung to him, even when enemies pointed their swords at him, they were never completely honest.
His master also taught him how to cope with this knowledge.
[Don’t give consideration to what cannot be considered. Cut through it. Don’t avoid it; face it head-on. Don’t accept what can’t be accepted. Counter it. Face me with the mindset of wielding a weapon in a duel. Endure. Confront. Grow stronger!]
He did just that.
He didn’t avoid getting hurt. He didn’t try to superficially please. He just treated the person known as his master as he truly was… and his master treated him the same way. There was no misunderstanding to wedge between them, just as there can be no gap between mountains and fields.
Therefore.
[It’s about time for me to leave.]
He couldn’t misunderstand the meaning of those words.
[Master.]
[I’ve lingered for quite some time.]
His master was dying.
The divine humans, a race that lived by absorbing sunlight through their skin and drawing sap with their mouths, did not change much in physical form from birth to death. One could roughly guess their age by the luminosity of their skin. Already dim when they first met, the master, now akin to a candle burning down to its last, was on the brink of extinguishing.
[I was not strong enough to live forever. That’s all there is to it.]
The master coughed. His body flashed brightly once, then dimmed.
Learning that not misunderstanding can be terrifying, and at the same time, sad, was something he had come to know.
[I’m glad.]
And also, it could be as painfully joyful.
[That I could meet you before I left.]
In those words were sincere apologies and deep gratitude.
[That I could teach you many things.]
Contained within those words were profound regret and immense relief.
[It was a blessing to be your master.]
Those words held bottomless anxiety and soaring pride.
[Master.]
His master could have said other things.
I'm sorry. I was wrong. I wasn’t enough.
That he couldn't lead the way consistently, that he couldn’t even stand beside him due to his own weakness, he could have asked for forgiveness.
But instead of that, his master chose to express gratitude for their meeting. Instead of apologizing for his shortcomings, he was thankful. And it wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t a fabrication. Despite both being equally true, despite neither choice being false, his master chose that path.
He knew this without deceit.
Thud!
He pressed his forehead to the ground.
Thud!
The master, lying on the sickbed, maintained a faint flicker as he watched him.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
These were bows offered to the master.
Silently, the master received those bows. Each bow carried gratitude, sorrow, and once more, gratitude. If each slice of the Primeval Blade had ensnared a soul in the sky, then the bows he made surely drew those souls down to the earth to rest in peace.
There were seventeen bows in total.
The master smiled. Without eyes or a nose, just the movement of his lips could convey a broad smile.
[Thank you.]
The master closed his eyes.
It didn’t take long for the flickering to fade, leaving behind only a pale body. By the time that happened, he no longer had a master.
[......]
Living in a world without his master was not as daunting as one might expect.
His master had taught him. There are problems in the world that exist regardless of one's strength.
A single person's heart could be sharp enough to wound him. The need to face each person with the mindset of crossing swords meant the world was full of adversaries. He could kill every living person in the world, but conversely, he couldn't save even one dying individual.
He was not invincible.
He was just a bit lucky.
He was just born a bit stronger.
That was all.
He was an ordinary person.
At that moment, he realized he was not lonely.
The declaration of clearing the floor came as soon as they entered, just as before.
[Key manifestation complete.]
[The slices of the world you've woven into your own are now completely bound to your world.]
[Worlds that were destroyed have been granted another chance in the realm of the dead.]
[The 97th floor has been cleared.]
Yet the one who heard the declaration did not step onto the staircase to the next floor. Instead, they quietly walked through the world.
No— through worlds.
"In this universe, as a cosmic knight would say..."
He walked through a world made up only of points and lines, a world without stars, filled with countless artificial satellites and the massive corridors that connected them.
"In the legend of the renowned Dawn Cottage, there's a terrifying tale."
"What tale is that?"
"I don't believe in legends..."
"What's with this crazy old coot?"
He wandered through a world where a lone cottage stood atop a dimly lit mountain peak. A world that was nothing more than that cottage.
"Mom! Mom! Look at this!"
"Yes, my child. This is called 'dried pollock'. Where did you find it?"
"Ooh! Uncle Pollock gave it to me!"
A world where a free-spirited girl held the hand of her frail-looking mother, crossing a pedestrian crossing.
In that world, the woman and the man briefly locked eyes. Perhaps even with the woman's daughter, who might be her child.
It might have been mere coincidence, or they might have genuinely shared a glance. The man himself didn’t know.
In truth, the man wasn’t even sure if he and the silver-haired woman had genuinely shared any communication in the previous world, or if it was just an incredible coincidence.
But he knew he would find out soon.
Very soon.
-......
After traversing several worlds, the man finally stopped in front of a blooming red peony in spring.
Beyond that peony, a sword was embedded in the ground.
There was nothing else. No tower-like tombstone, no mountain-like burial mound. Although it seemed maintained, as there was no rust on the blade, the area was indistinguishable from a flower garden, filled with wildflowers and weeds.
But this place was more than just a flower garden.
It was merely that the sword, along with that peony, were just flowers among the weeds and wildflowers.
-......
The man began to bow toward the flower.
-......
In his first bow, the man encapsulated a world where an innocent child's pain was used to achieve immortal happiness, the death and rebirth of that world.
-......
In his second bow, he encapsulated the silver heart stuck in eternity, a world that died for a duty beyond love and lived again for a love beyond duty.
-......
With the third bow, another world.
The fourth bow, the fifth bow, the sixth bow...
-......
Eventually, in the last, the ninth bow, the man included the peony that bloomed at the end of an eternal winter.
-......
The man bowed deeply.
Then he stepped back until the peony was out of sight before turning around to walk away.
[You are entering the 98th floor.]
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