WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Sword Master of the Fallen Kingdom

Chapter 42

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Shadow of a Tainted Past (4)

"No way, did you get hurt?"

Yurian asked, eyes full of worry. I gave a small shake of my head.

When I lowered my gaze, I saw the wooden sword in my right hand. A training stick carved neatly into the shape of a blade. It was exactly the same as the one Yurian held. We must have been having a light spar, and I probably got tagged because I looked away for a second.

"You're not yourself today. Normally, you'd block that easily."

Yurian still sounded concerned.

"Did you have some weird dream last night?"

"No. I slept fine..."

"Then why did you miss it?"

"I don't know. Maybe I got distracted by how good the view is here."

I turned my eyes to the breathtaking scene spread below the hill.

Yurian shook his head like I was hopeless.

"It's been over a year. Shouldn't you be used to it by now?"

"Not at all. Every day still feels new. If you knew where I used to live, you'd freak out. Winters there were almost as cold as this place."

"Really?"

Yurian let out a quiet laugh. He reached out a hand as I sat on the ground. I took it, and the hand of a crown prince felt just as rough as mine.

After pulling me up, Yurian asked with a challenging look if I was ready to go again.

"Of course."

"Good. Let's do it properly this time."

"It won't be easy. I won't let my guard down twice."

Yurian and I widened the distance between us. Under the pleasant midday sun, we pointed identical wooden swords at each other.

The wind blew again, sweeping the field with a sound like waves.

"Hup!"

Yurian charged first. His tightly gripped wooden sword thrust straight at me. I did not react too quickly.

I already knew. If I answered that strike too simply, I'd get caught again by his flexible sword path, just like before.

Tak! Tak-tak! Tatatak!

Our wooden swords tangled with rough, snapping sounds. Yurian pressed me with a wild, free-flowing style, and I responded with the basics I had learned in the order. Still, as the exchange dragged on, I could feel myself getting overwhelmed. Yurian had not officially received his title yet, but he was already a fully formed knight. I was still just an inexperienced squire.

"You're going easy on me again, aren't you!"

I knocked his incoming blade aside and grumbled.

"Hahaha!"

"Don't dodge the question!"

"You're doing great, Kyle! You're way better than last month!"

Yurian smiled brightly. A clear young voice, a tone filled with admiration. His white hair fluttered once, and at the same moment, the brown wooden sword vanished from my sight.

Where did it go?

The answer came immediately. My vision flashed, then my balance gave out. Before I knew it, I was sprawled on the ground again, just like before. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I pressed my forehead with my empty left hand. A sigh slipped out.

"Ah..."

A complete loss. No excuses.

"I lost again."

I braced myself with both arms behind me and looked up. Spring was ending and summer was coming, and the sky above looked clearer and bluer than usual.

"Of course you did. Still, you're much better than before. Honestly, your growth is so fast it's scary."

"So what? I still can't even brush the Commander's collar, and you beat me up like this every day."

"Don't rush, Kyle. I've held a sword since I was five, and it's only been two years for you. Just catching up this far already makes no sense. In our order, everyone was called a genius when they were young, but nobody was like you."

"I think the Commander told me that last year too."

"Did he?"

Yurian tilted his head with an innocent look. I staggered up and sat leaning against a thick wooden post on top of the hill.

"I'm taking a break."

"Already?"

"Yeah. Some damned old man worked me too hard yesterday. My muscles still hurt."

"Using the Commander as an excuse isn't good, Kyle. It's proof you're growing. You should work harder."

"Yes, yes. Of course."

I let Yurian's advice go in one ear and out the other. A fluttering butterfly landed in front of my knee.

Has it already been over a year and a half since I got here?

Last winter really felt like I might die. It was my second winter in the north, but it was colder than any winter back in Korea. This was the capital too, much warmer than near the Caldra Mountains, and it was still that bad.

Well, summer's coming soon, so it should get better.

Muttering to myself, I gently tapped the butterfly.

Startled, it flapped its wings and flew down the hill. I leaned my head against the wooden post and stretched out in the cool wind. The sweat across my body cooled quickly, along with the strands of hair tickling the corners of my eyes.

"Kyle, you already know this, but even if mana can reinforce the body, we still do physical training so it doesn't come back to bite us later."

Yurian gave a wry smile and took his stance alone, lifting his wooden sword.

"Because of sword forms?"

"Right. A knight's sword forms are built around mana use. But that doesn't mean fundamentals aren't important. In the end, it's still me moving a body reinforced by mana. Feel matters. Like this."

With those last words, Yurian began to demonstrate the seven forms of Asherad Royal Swordsmanship in front of me. The graceful sword dance flowing from a plain wooden blade snapped my focus back at once.

First Form, Rising Flame.

Second Form, Dance of Embers.

Third Form, Piercing Frost.

Fourth Form, Flowing Moonlight.

Fifth Form, Ashen Storm.

Sixth Form, Repose of the North Wind.

"And lastly."

Yurian caught his breath and stopped swinging for a moment. Then, in an instant, the wooden blade slipped into a blind spot in my awareness and etched two strikes through the air.

"Seventh Form, Brand of Ash."

Yurian spoke. Two strikes contained in one sword path. My eyes widened at that sure-kill dual strike, impossible to dodge. Even though it was only an empty shell with no mana in it, I could still read the exquisite principle hidden in Yurian's wooden sword at that final moment.

"How is it?"

"...It's hard."

It still wasn't easy. I gave my honest impression. I had watched the Commander and the other senior members demonstrate it many times, but I still didn't have that click yet.

"It's always like that at first. Still, you're gifted with mana control, Kyle. You'll adapt fast."

"As if sword forms are something you just adapt to. It'd be faster to learn magic."

"Come to think of it, are you still learning magic from Cecilia?"

At Yurian's casual question, my shoulders twitched.

"Uh... a little? Not that much."

"Is Cecilia teaching you well?"

"You know her personality too. Skill aside, she grumbles and grumbles and grumbles over every little thing... still, she does teach me seriously."

"Hmm."

Yurian looked at me with a meaningful gaze, then let out a short sigh.

"You're really clueless. Are you pretending not to know, or are you just dense..."

"What did you just say...?"

I narrowed my eyes, and right then I felt a presence behind me that made no effort to hide itself.

"Kyle! Your Highness!"

The moment I noticed, a familiar voice rang out. Not Yurian's soft young tone, but a woman's voice with a sharper edge. I turned without thinking.

A woman was climbing up from below the hill. She wore a gray robe, and her hair was a pale brown close to muted blond. Every time she huffed her way upward, the light brown hair that reached her waist swayed back and forth. With delicate features that looked almost cute at a glance, she stopped in front of Yurian and me at the top of the hill.

The daughter of House Haska, one of the most prestigious families in the north. And one of the few mages in the Knights of Ash.

Cecilia Haska.

"The Commander is calling both of you! He said free time is over, stop fooling around and come back."

"Is it that late already?" Yurian asked.

Cecilia, taking a moment to catch her breath, answered bluntly.

"Your Highness, were you playing around without even checking the time? It's lunch now, no matter how self-directed your training is."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. He said come in before it gets any later. He even threatened to make you run a hundred laps around the training grounds. And..."

After exchanging a few words with Yurian, Cecilia turned to me where I sat against the post. At her sharp glare, I clicked my tongue inwardly. Cecilia had only just grown out of girlhood, but she narrowed her eyes at me like I personally offended her.

"Cecil..."

I called her by her nickname, and she twisted her face into a deep frown.

"I knew it. Kyle, you were slacking off again, weren't you?"

"Slacking off?"

"Ugh. It's obvious at a glance. Try being diligent for once. Your face is nice enough, so why do you act like that? That's why women don't like you."

"Oh yeah? Then are you popular?"

"Me? Men always line up for me, unlike someone."

Cecilia puffed out her chest proudly. She probably thought she was acting mature, but to me she looked nothing but cute.

That was the truth. No matter how I looked at her, Cecilia was closer to a lovely girl than a seductive lady. If only she'd keep that cursed mouth shut, she'd look like an angel. That wasn't just my opinion either. Even the older members agreed.

Who on earth is going to marry that girl? Do the guys who say they like her even know her personality?

"Not a spinster past marriage age?"

"Hey! I told you not to call me a spinster!"

Cecilia yelled at the top of her lungs. Most nobles got engaged in their teens and married by around twenty at the latest. In that sense, she was unusual. She had turned twenty-one this year and still had not had a single engagement.

"I just chose to devote myself to the order instead of marriage! Nobody forced me! It's my choice!"

"Ah, yes. Of course."

"You're only one year younger than me! You're in no position to say that to me!"

"Where I came from, getting married around thirty was normal."

"Thirty? Stop lying! You just don't have anyone. I get letters about marriage proposals every single day!"

"So, are you going to do it?"

I stared at her and asked coldly. Cecilia suddenly lowered her head and fidgeted like she had no words.

"Th-that's..."

"Cecilia, didn't you complain to me before? You said your friends kept pestering you about Kyle, asking question after question. You called them immature girls who only care about a man's face..."

"Your Highness, please be quiet!"

That didn't last long. Yurian chimed in from the side, and Cecilia smacked his back hard as if nothing had happened.

Smack, smack.

Each time her small palm struck Yurian's back, it made a vicious sound.

"Wait, stop! Calm down, Cecilia!"

"Your Highness needs more scolding. You keep saying useless things!"

"When did I... ah!"

While the two bickered, I let out a small sigh and stood up. Cecilia really was fierce, if nothing else. Outside the order, she probably acted all proper.

"I'm heading back first."

"Huh? Hey, Kyle, wait up!"

I picked up my wooden sword and headed leisurely down the hill. Cecilia came to her senses a beat late and hurried after me.

"I keep saying it, he really is clueless..."

I heard Yurian mutter behind us. Rubbing the spot where Cecilia had smacked him, he quickly came up beside us. I left the two of them bickering again and raised my head. The blue sky of passing spring shone with an aching clarity.

***

Kyle opened his eyes and drew a rough breath. Only after staring at the now-dark ceiling did he realize he had fallen asleep in bed.

"Damn it, again..."

Kyle raised an arm to cover his eyes and groaned. The same dream as before. Those shadows sometimes surfaced in dream form regardless of his will. Even though they belonged to memories that should have faded by now.

I fell asleep around six. What time is it now?

After breathing for a while, Kyle pushed himself up and rummaged through the Inventory Pouch on the nightstand beside his bed. He took out a pocket watch and checked the time: 1:30. He blinked a couple of times, and a sigh escaped on its own. Hunger hit him a moment later.

Grrrr.

His stomach growled. Kyle slowly got out of bed. In one corner of the room, dim moonlight spilled over the dinner he had set aside earlier beneath a cloth cover.

Kyle pulled off the cloth, tore a loaf of bread in half, and stuffed it into his mouth. He mechanically chewed a piece of cheese beside it and drank lukewarm milk. His mind cleared, and his stomach settled a little.

Come to think of it, after lunch I skipped dinner and fell asleep early.

No way I'm going back to sleep now.

Kyle looked down quietly at the table and tray. He needed time to settle the mess in his head left by the dream.

I should just go to the library. I couldn't go earlier anyway.

After chewing through the small meal, Kyle took one last sip of milk and covered the tray again with the cloth. He put on everything except his leather armor and strapped the sword from his pillow to his waist. Grabbing his cloak and Inventory Pouch, Kyle stepped out of Gerard's tower. The cool night wind brushed gently across his whole body.

The Lenore Magic Tower library is west of here.

Recalling the layout of the tower grounds, Kyle crossed the vast compound without hesitation. Not long after, a building about the same size as Gerard's tower came into view. Naturally, the doors were locked. The library was open only until midnight. If someone wanted to read after that, the only option was to borrow books ahead of time.

But that restriction did not apply to Kyle, who held an elder access pass. Using the droplet necklace Gerard had given him, Kyle entered the library without difficulty. He swallowed a breath on instinct.

Moonlight settled softly.

Kyle raised his gaze along the falling light. At the very top of the building, beyond a glass-sealed ceiling, hung a full moon.

Unlike a normal building, the library was an eight-story structure opened into one giant hall. At the exact center of the first floor was a small garden made for resting. Looking up from there, he could see the black night sky with the moon suspended in it. From the first floor to the eighth, each level had railings overlooking the garden below, like a huge shopping mall or department store.

"Even the Grand Archive in the Alenos ruins wasn't this big..."

He muttered softly. The scent of old paper brushing past him felt strangely familiar.

After glancing around for a moment, Kyle climbed to the top of the library. The forbidden section, inaccessible even to a First-Rank Mage. He reached for a book there, but his hand stopped in midair, as if something blocked it.

As if a transparent wall stood in front of him, his fingers met physical resistance.

An application of Spatial Magic.

No problem. Kyle used Gerard's pass again. The moment the blue droplet gem touched the invisible wall, the resistance melted away. Kyle quickly scanned every shelf in the forbidden section.

He needed two things. Books describing Izra's Thorn, and books about the resurrection spell. Before long, he came down to the first floor with an armful of books. A reading area was set up near the central garden.

Click.

A long table fit for several people. Kyle turned on the Magic Stone Lamp in front of him. Dim moonlight plus the lamp's bright glow created a comfortable reading environment.

He tore through the forbidden books quickly. Izra's Thorn and the resurrection spell. Anything else, he skipped outright. He did not even check the contents.

Nothing, huh.

Still, he could not find what he wanted. A sigh escaped Kyle without him noticing. He had brought every forbidden book that looked even slightly relevant, yet there was no real result.

Now only that old white book is left...

Half giving up, Kyle picked up the last white book. It was completely blank inside. That lasted only a moment. Kyle's eyes widened, and he took out a holy potion from his Inventory Pouch, lower grade than the one used to treat Gerard, and poured it over the pages.

Ssssss.

The result came quickly. Golden letters appeared one by one across what had been blank white pages. The corners of Kyle's mouth twisted upward. A forbidden section indeed. He had not expected to find a book from the Crescent Theocracy here.

Not just any book, either, but one that compiled all kinds of holy spells.

Did he get it from the black market? Or does he have direct ties to the Theocracy?

Either way, it did not matter. Just as before, Kyle poured small amounts of holy potion page by page and skimmed at speed. The book calmly listed kinds of holy spells and their explanations.

There it is.

Izra's Thorn.

Near the end of the book, he found the information he wanted. Kyle read the passage below clearly in his mind.

[A spell forbidden under the Holy Pact several hundred years ago. Creating just one requires sacrificing close to several hundred priests and mages. If the purple stake-shaped thorn is stabbed into a human body, the mana inside instantly crystallizes, causing damage close to immediate death. Because it destroys the soul itself along with the body, it was banned by the Holy Pact, and after the ban its production method gradually fell out of use.]

"Ha..."

A laugh escaped him naturally. During the Northern War, only two people were directly struck by Izra's Thorn, him and Rowen. The other members did not suffer the curse directly. Even so, they were pushed back. Simply because of the gap in national power. More than anything, because Rowen, the former commander, had played too great a role.

"So mass production is impossible..."

Even if the Empire was the strongest nation on the continent, it had limits. It could not mass produce Izra's Thorn, which needed hundreds of priests and mages to make one. The loss of the production method was likely less about the ban under the Holy Pact and more about efficiency.

No, it probably was never truly lost in the first place. They must have hidden it deep away, then judged they had no choice and used it while accepting the sacrifice.

A sliver of good news inside bad news, then.

Strength entered Kyle's right hand as he gripped the page. He muttered through clenched teeth and turned it.

Then he saw it. Along with Izra's Thorn, the second piece of information he had been searching for so desperately.

The resurrection spell, Resurrection. In other words, the Rite of Revival.

The greatest taboo of all, bringing the dead back to life.

In a flash, countless faces crossed his mind. Rowen, Yurian, Cecilia. And the others who had died for him while clinging to false hope.

Kyle's eyes trembled violently.

"...Kyle-ssi?"

A rustling sound came from somewhere. Kyle turned toward the source. A blue-haired girl stood there. Lena, fidgeting and reading his mood, started walking toward him.

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