WeTried Translations

Translator: Dawn

Editor: Dawn

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Genius Knight of a Fallen Race

Chapter 1

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The Elephant Pulled Out the Stake

Your parents were a bunch of vagrants who deserved to be cursed. They left you in this village right after you were barely weaned, then disappeared. You’d best be grateful. If we hadn’t protected you, you would’ve been devoured alive by some wolves out there. What kind of kindhearted person in this world would take in and raise a brat with no ties, an Alto at that...

Whenever the village chief got heavily drunk, he would always grumble like that.

Shan had heard it so many times that he could recite it word for word even with his eyes closed.

It wasn’t just the chief who would tell the story. From old man Kolo, the mill owner, to Jexen the woodcutter, to Aunt Masa the pharmacist—whenever they saw him, they would frown and tell him to be grateful that a demon brat like him was even allowed to live in the village. Beatings with hands and feet, and sometimes even clubs, were just a bonus.

Why does everyone hate me so much?

The man who answered Shan’s question was the most respected adult in the village, who had studied in the capital city in his young days—Priest Ador.

“That is because you’re an Alto, Shan.”

“An Alto?”

“They are a race who turned their backs on the goddess’s love, wielded wicked power, and were cursed terribly. Those eyes of yours are the proof.”

Just as he said, Shan’s eyes were different from the others. It didn’t seem noticeable in bright places, but they glowed softly in the dark. When he wandered around on dark nights and happened to run into someone, it wasn’t just once or twice that they’d panic, thinking some beast had come into the middle of the village—and each time, Shan would get beaten for the “crime” of startling people.

At the sight of Shan absentmindedly feeling around his eye area, Priest Ador spoke with a bitter expression,

“In ancient times, the Altos built a stairway to the divine realm by wielding evil magic. In response, the goddess grew enraged and passed judgment, bringing about the fall of the Alto Empire and placing a curse upon those who had lived there.”

To ensure everyone would recognize the Altos, the goddess altered their forms. In Shan’s case, his eyes were only somewhat unusual, but there were those who had large horns growing from their heads, or whose entire bodies were covered in grotesque scales. Just imagining such hideous appearances made Shan shudder, and he carefully voiced his thoughts aloud.

"Then... does that mean I was born a sinner?"

“It can’t be helped. Not everyone is born into royalty or nobility. If some are born blessed, then some are bound to be born cursed,” said Priest Ador as he patted Shan’s head. “Study the goddess’s teachings without ceasing and obey her. Then, one day, the goddess will forgive you and welcome you into her realm.”

“Will that really happen?”

“Of course.”

Looking at the priest’s sunken eyes filled with faith, Shan swallowed the words that were about to come out. In truth, Shan only wanted the villagers to be kinder to him rather than heading to the goddess’s realm after death. He didn’t want people to hate him when he’d done nothing wrong.

Learning the reason for persecution didn’t make him feel any better. The villagers’ persecution of Shan, seen as deserved for being a descendant of a sinful race, only left him more depressed.

“Hey, you dirty cheeky Alto, who said you to walk on the main street?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Get lost. You stink.”

Shan quickly bowed his head to the boy who kicked him hard in the shin and stepped aside. Since he was someone who should have died but had been allowed to live out of kindness, whatever the villagers did to him was considered justified. He could own nothing, and having to provide labor for the village without any compensation was just one of those justified things.

“Hey, Alto. You cleaned the barn, right?”

“Do me a favor and do my laundry. Head to the little stream over there and make sure to do it thoroughly.”

“Where’s the firewood I told you to bring me?!”

Fortunately, Shan was a pretty talented laborer. Contrary to his thin, and small stature due to not having eaten enough, he was strong enough to handle the workload of an average adult male. In fact, there was a little secret behind that.

“Hmph.”

Bang!

Shan drove his axe into the tree and quietly watched as the fairly large tree fell toward him. Anyone watching from the side would have panicked and rushed over at once. However, Shan didn’t even blink as the tree narrowly brushed past him and crashed down beside him. He already knew it would turn out that way.

Now, I just have to break this tree into small pieces for some firewood...

Shan had a fairly amazing talent. He had the ability to use his body more efficiently and correctly than others to achieve much superior results. In his eyes, other people’s movements all looked like the puppets controlled by the traveling troupe’s puppeteer who had once come to the village—puppets with strings tied to every joint, slow and unbearably clumsy.

But when he asked why they moved like that, and whether they couldn’t use their bodies more efficiently, the answer he got was far from pleasant. The villagers said that such things were surely the wicked magic of the Altos and must never be used carelessly. Being different from others was considered bad, so in the end, if everyone else moved inefficiently, Shan had to match their inefficiency.

Fortunately, the villagers didn’t point it out as long as he didn’t openly show off that kind of ability. Perhaps it was because the better he worked, the easier things became for them. Thanks to that, he loved times like this, when he came alone to chop wood, since he could move as freely as he wanted.

Shan instantly chopped the tree into countless pieces and loaded them into a cart. After he returned to the village, he focused on finishing other chores. In the Willow Village, where more than a hundred people lived together, there were many chores that Shan had to finish, such as fetching water, digging out the small stones from the fields, and cleaning the latrine...

The sun had already set when he finished up the chores and could take a break. As he curled up in the corner of the shed he used as a shelter, his body, overworked all day, screamed in protest.

I’m so tired...

Even if he could use his body more efficiently than others, he had to do twice as much work as the others with a body that was still not fully grown. On top of that, he barely managed to pick at leftovers from the village chief’s house, so he hadn’t eaten properly. His stomach twisted with hunger.

Back when Celina was here, I didn’t go this hungry.

Celina was the village chief’s daughter, who had recently married into a landlord’s family in the neighboring village. She enjoyed picking up bits of information from peddlers and outsiders, then showing off and bragging about it to others. Shan was the audience who listened to her the best.

“Did you know, Shan?”

“Know what?”

“They say in the lands of the southern heathens, there’s an animal called an elephant—something as big as a mountain.”

“Wouldn’t that be a monster?”

At Shan’s question, Celina snorted.

“You idiot, I said it’s not a monster, it’s an animal! Anyway, if you tie that elephant to an iron stake when it’s young and raise it like that, even when it grows up, it can’t pull it out. It already tried long ago and failed, so it thinks it still can’t.”

“That animal must be very stupid.”

“Do you really think so?”

Even when he asked what she meant, Celina only looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read—somewhere between contempt and pity. Soon after, she shook her head, saying it was fine if he didn’t understand, and left. After she married into the neighboring village, they never saw each other again.

I wonder what she meant by that.

No matter how many times he thought it over, he still couldn’t figure it out. Shan drifted off, lost in thought, and fell asleep just like that. As he wandered in a deep, dreamless sleep, a thunderous crash rang out, and his consciousness snapped back in an instant.

What was that?

After waking up, Shan realized the outside was unusually noisy. He wondered if he had slept for too long until morning. But he soon realized that the sunlight was missing. Furthermore, the noise outside was different from the usual. There was a thunderous noise as if someone had kicked in a door, shouts and roars, sharp screams, and even a piercing sound he had never heard before. Without realizing, Shan opened the shed door and stepped outside.

“Hey, get ‘em! They’re running away!”

“What are you running after them for? Just shoot ‘em down.”

“Please, help!”

“Why are you doing this?! I’ll give you money and everything I have! Please!”

The village that had been peaceful just a few hours ago was now gone. Beneath the burning houses and flickering torches lay dozens of corpses with familiar faces. Surrounding the outskirts and slaughtering them was a group of killers far too well-armed to be mere bandits. Each of them wore thick cloth and leather armor, and instead of crude wooden clubs, they were armed with properly forged blades.

The bandits worked together methodically like well-trained soldiers, unilaterally massacring people several times their number. Now and then, some tried to break through the encirclement by climbing over walls or rooftops to escape, but they were pierced by arrows from archers waiting outside and fell.

“Aaargh—!” A low, heavy scream rang out.

Barak the blacksmith, who Shan had brought firewood just earlier that day, swung his large hammer, only to have his arm severed, and screamed in agony. He was a man two heads taller than Shan, with a massive build, like a giant from legend. He was now wailing like a child, and the sight felt unreal to Shan.

Nearby, woodcutter Jexen lay collapsed with his chest pierced by a spear, and the axe he must have been holding was embedded in the head of his wife, Mary. They were all known in the village for their strength as they were people who could easily deal with drifters or a few minor monsters.

Just then, Priest Ador, the village’s only priest, came rushing out from deeper within the village in a hurry. Being a heavy sleeper and with the church located at the very back, it seemed he hadn’t realized what was happening until late. Or he finally mustered up the courage to come out and say something. As befitting of a clergyman, a divine light surged forth, illuminating the surroundings brightly. Seeing the light, the bandits flinched.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Wait, that’s a priest.”

“What should we do? Killing a priest is a little...”

Whether even those who had committed such atrocities still had a shred of faith left, or whether they feared the divine power the priest displayed, the bandits, unlike before, hesitated and could not charge in right away.

“This would infuriate the goddess. Drop your weapons, and—”

“Screw that.”

However, making his brave step forward meaningless, a spear suddenly shot out from among the bandits, pierced the priest’s eye, and crushed his brain. The middle-aged man who had thrown the spear spat on the ground and wiped the eyepatch over one eye with his hand.

“You idiots, I told you! We can’t spare a single one! Repeat it! Loyalty comes before faith!”

“Loyalty comes before faith!”

“Good. Now, kill them all!”

Seeing how the bandits around him obeyed him immediately, he was undoubtedly the captain among them.

The massacre continued. Now that they were done with hunting down the people who lived on the outskirts, they started to break into every single house to kill the elderly and infirm. Thankfully, Shan’s shelter, which was the village chief’s barn, wasn’t so far from the church, which was located in the center of the village. However, it was obvious that the bandits would soon reach his place.

He thought of running away, but soon realized that he had no place to run to. He was confident in running, but wasn’t so confident in dodging the arrows since he hadn’t tried it ever. As he stood still absentmindedly, watching the corpses of the elderly and children being thrown out of the houses, Shan realized that someone was crawling toward him.

“Sh-Shan.”

With a broken dagger lodged in his abdomen, insides likely ruined, the one speaking with blood streaming from his mouth was the boy who had kicked Shan for blocking his way not long ago.

“Please, save my family...”

Shan wanted to answer how he could do that, but the words wouldn’t come out, swallowed by fear. The boy, who had been clutching at Shan’s ankle, mumbling and pleading, soon seemed to run out of strength and let his head droop. As Shan, half in a panic, gasped for breath, a thick voice came from nearby.

“Hmm? I was wondering where you went off to, and it seems you’ve gone to find your friend. Such a disloyal friend you are.”

The man who had been speaking in a mocking tone flinched when he saw Shan’s eyes and took a step back. But a moment later, as if displeased at having been startled, his ugly face twisted horribly.

“What the hell! Why is a demon brat here?”

It seemed that even to bandits who killed people, an Alto was something dreadful. Maybe someone like Shan wasn’t even worth killing in the bandit’s perspective. Thinking such a foolish fantasy himself, Shan found himself pleading without realizing it.

“...Please don’t kill me.”

The bandit didn’t even bother answering back and swung his sword with a click of his tongue. The blade, about forearm-length and sharpened on only one side, commonly used for cutting small trees in the mountains, was stained with blood and grease.

I’d probably die if that thing hits me...

Just like everyone he had seen in his life, the bandit swinging the blade moved in an inefficient, unrefined way.

Should I dodge?

If Shan used the wicked magic innate to the Altos, it wouldn’t be difficult. No, he might even be able to do more than that. But the priest had told him to heed the goddess’s words, that if he fell into wicked magic, he would die and go to hell.

What came to mind along with that thought was the image of the priest who had said those very words—his head pierced through by a spear as he died. And not just him, but there were bodies slashed, stabbed, beaten to a pulp, sprawled in gruesome death all around him. If hell truly existed, then perhaps this place was already hell.

In the vivid terror brought on by the death looming before his eyes, Shan’s body moved on its own.

“Huh?”

The man showed confusion when his blade failed to cut down the skinny Alto boy and instead sliced through empty air. He had clearly aimed right for the throat. He wondered if he had run into a ghost or something.

Thinking he hadn’t seen properly in the darkness, he thrust the torch forward, but in that instant, the boy vanished. Then came a sharp pain in his neck. The man instinctively dropped the knife in his hand and hurriedly clutched his throat, but that couldn’t stop the warm blood from pouring down over his shoulders and chest.

“What the—”

The man collapsed on the spot before he could even finish his last words. Holding the broken dagger he had pulled from the belly of the boy who had died moments ago, Shan looked down at the fallen bandit and let out a small sigh.

“Ah.”

Until the very last moment, he had doubted again and again. What if those clumsy movements had all been meant to deceive him? What if, the instant he tried to counterattack, the man suddenly turned his head and sneered, “You fool, did you really think I was that weak?”

But nothing of the sort happened. Until Shan bent down, pulled the dagger from the corpse, circled around, and slit his throat, the bandit in front of him couldn’t react at all.

Only then did the elephant bound by chains realize that, with a single step, it could have pulled the iron stake free.

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