WeTried Translations
Translator: Dawn
Editor: Dawn
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Genius Knight of a Fallen Race
Chapter 17
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The Beginning of Hell
Serin Gizelle Aste Hasra was an unforgettable figure. Her hair was of a deep blue that sometimes resembled the night sky, and at other times the surging sea. Her long, slender eyes with slightly upturned ends were somewhat distant from a classical beauty standard, yet they gave off a proud and strangely alluring impression.
Her enemies would slander her appearance, saying that despite her young age, she looked like a temptress. Compared to her half-sister, Princess Kasia, who was as delicate as a flower, they would say she was merely fierce and vulgar, lacking any dignity.
However, what made Serin special here at the Magic Society was neither her status as the second daughter of the King of Pendia nor her enchanting appearance. The mages revered the creative ideas that came from her mind and her sharp intuition that pierced through the essence of things.
She was a genius who could point out the direction of problems that would take years or even decades of contemplation, and even provide clues, just by casually exchanging a few words. She was truly the kind of ideal existence every researcher could only dream of!
“Princess, fusion research is truly the path Pendia must take moving forward. If we can just create the ultimate giant golem—”
“It’s inefficient. I’d rather recommend researching the opposite. I suggest splitting magic stones into smaller pieces.”
“If we do that, the duration becomes too short, making it impractical!”
“Even so, there have been meaningful developments in that field lately, so you should consult Professor Gaiten—”
While walking and conversing with the mage accompanying her, Serin’s gaze met that of a certain boy. In truth, making eye contact with someone while moving around outside the palace wasn’t particularly unusual. Wherever she went, she was someone who attracted everyone’s attention.
The unusual thing was that the boy staring intently was not looking at Serin. With her sharp sensitivity to others’ gazes, she realized that the boy, half-entranced, was staring not at her but at the escort knights nearby. Their gazes merely brushed past each other in that process. A situation she had never experienced before sparked curiosity in her reddish-brown eyes.
“What?”
The boy with wide green eyes was about half her height and had a slender build. At a glance, he seemed far removed from a knightly family. Judging by his refined clothes, perhaps he was the son of some administrator or merchant.
However, unlike his naive impression, the way he scanned the knights burned with a greedy intensity like flames. Like a man lusting after a naked beauty, his gaze was openly blatant and persistent without the slightest pretense. Even though she wasn’t the one receiving that gaze, it was so primal it almost made her feel embarrassed.
“Is something wrong, Your Highness?”
“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
As an escort knight made a puzzled expression at her halted steps, she shook her head and moved on. She was far too proud and busy a person to spare attention for a strange boy who showed no interest in her. Even today, she has many people to meet and materials to research.
***
“Princess Serin, huh.”
At Roden’s mutter, Shan finally turned his gaze away from the group of the princess that had disappeared beyond the automatic doors.
“Roden, did you see that just now?”
“The princess?”
“No, the knights beside her! I don’t know how they did it, but there was barely any sound when they walked, even though they were wearing full plate armor!”
“Ah. That.”
Roden didn’t think Shan would be paying attention to the equipment of the escort knights while the princess herself was passing by. Caught off guard by the unexpected answer, Roden gave a wry smile.
“It’s probably armor enchanted with magic. Maybe the princess came to buy it for her guards.”
“So if you become a princess’s guard, you can freely buy magical items too.”
Shan recalled what he had just seen. The armor perfectly covered every part except the joints, yet caused no inconvenience to movement, fitting together so precisely that it didn’t even make the sound of metal grinding. It was a work of art. The sword hilt was finished with luxurious leather of unknown material that fit the hand perfectly, and the pommel was crafted to shine like a gemstone.
Thanks to the luxury he had experienced over the past week, Shan had developed the discernment to judge the quality of high-quality items at a glance. Before, he would have just thought dismissively and moved on. He didn’t even remember the princess’s appearance among them. Was her hair blue? Or maybe yellow? He wasn’t sure.
“Maybe that day will come someday, but for now, let’s look at things we can actually afford.”
He nodded energetically for a moment, but as he looked at the display shelves, Shan’s expression darkened.
“Roden?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you read this for me?”
“I told you to at least learn how to read...”
Grumbling, Roden still read out the item descriptions and prices. The items on display varied—a kettle that automatically filled with water, a torch that shone without fire, a staff that amplified one’s voice several times, and so on. All of them were oddly ambiguous items that seemed like they might be useful, or might not. After hearing the explanations, Shan looked at Roden in disbelief.
“Why is everything so expensive? And they all become unusable after just a few uses!”
“That’s unavoidable for small magic tools that don’t use magic stones, young friend,” a mage standing across from the display chuckled as he explained.
Magic devices that contained magic stones would naturally recharge mana and could be reused. However, tools without such a medium were, at best, disposable. And yet, their prices were enormous. Even if he spent all the money he earned from the recent troll hunt, he could only buy one or two of those water kettles. Roden shrugged, confirming that the mage wasn’t wrong.
“Why do you think our house doesn’t use magic tools? If these were cheap and convenient, the servants would’ve all lost their jobs long ago.”
Come to think of it, that made sense. Only now could he understand the saying that magic often focused on ingenuity rather than practicality, being inferior to a priest’s miracles in terms of utility.
Afterward, they consulted a mage about enchanting weapons and armor, but the effects were temporary here as well. Permanent enchantments only existed on relics of the old Alto Empire—things excavated from the Demon Realm.
“Then the armor those knights had earlier...”
“The court mages just keep reapplying the enchantments whenever they wear off.”
Faced with that harsh reality, Shan ended his shopping by buying a few potions from the alchemy section. One of them was an ointment made by boiling troll bones—the same one Roden had once applied to his chest.
“I’ll use this if I get hurt again.”
“Check the expiration date. That stuff has one too.”
“What’s an expiration date?”
“It means it spoils over time, like food.”
Magically enchanted items were, without exception, annoyingly finicky. Fortunately, the capital had plenty of attractions besides the Magic Society. There were the historic coliseum, library built during the old Arman Empire, grand temple that served as a holy site for pilgrims of the goddess religion, and even clothing shops that carried the latest styles from the neighboring country of Libert.
Of course, Shan, who had little interest in history or religion, found more enjoyment in visiting the blacksmith street located in one part of the city. The sound of metal being hammered rang out from all directions, and finely crafted weapons and armor were displayed behind glass windows. It was enough to make his eyes spin. Although there were no high-end items like the royal guards’ equipment he had seen earlier, it was still entertaining in its own way.
After wandering around for quite some time, Shan spent all his remaining money after buying potions on a fairly decent longsword, a small shield, and a chainmail armor tailored to his body. After spending all the money he had earned for the first time, a sense of emptiness mixed with the satisfaction of obtaining fine equipment washed over him.
“I’m broke again...”
“Well. After training ends, you will just have to earn more. At least you don’t have to worry about food or a place to sleep.”
“Yeah, that’s true, but...”
What Kalion Weavers had agreed to provide was only the cost of training him as a knight and his food, clothing, and lodging. He couldn’t ask them to sponsor collectible weapons he didn’t immediately need. On that point, both Shan and the wealthy Weavers family were in agreement.
From the day he received his weapon, Shan swung his longsword alone whenever he had time. His training ground was the garden inside the mansion. His reference material was, of course, the two knights he had seen fighting the troll.
Was it like this? Why do they hold the sword like that? This movement seems inefficient...
Questions arose one after another as he tried to replicate their stances, but unfortunately, no one was available to answer them. Most of the people in the mansion were far removed from proper martial arts. Even Roden, who had some experience, had only reached the level of a knight trainee. Finally, the one who could give him answers arrived three days later.
“Remember? What you’re supposed to say when you first meet him.”
“What was it again...? ‘As one who walks the path of a warrior, I wish to serve the one who is ahead?’”
“The one who walks ahead.”
On the day Sir Darkal was scheduled to visit, Roden once again reviewed the greeting etiquette with Shan. It was still a bit lacking, but it was much better than before. At that moment, a booming shout rang out from in front of the Weavers' mansion.
“Open the gate! For I have arrived!”
“That voice is ridiculously loud...”
He could’ve just knocked and asked them to open it. Why shout like that? Puzzled, they went to the front gate, where Kalion was already there to greet Sir Darkal.
“You are as hearty as ever, Sir Darkal. It seems you alone have escaped the passage of time.”
“Hmph, this is nothing.”
Sir Darkal was an old man with a bald crown and a deeply wrinkled face. His build was fairly average, but he gave off an oddly large presence, perhaps because of his well-trained body.
What was surprising was Kalion’s attitude toward him. The man who had acted like a terrifying tyrant in front of Shan and Roden now smiled obsequiously, rubbing his hands together and bowing his head before Sir Darkal. Seeing that servile stance made it clear why Roden had been shocked. As Sir Darkal enjoyed Kalion’s flattery with a smug look, his gaze shifted toward Roden and Shan.
“My useless former student is over there.”
“Yes!”
As Roden raised his hand with a grin, Sir Darkal snorted and then stared at Shan with rude intensity. It was a gaze mixed with suspicion and interest.
“So you’re the little Alto brat who killed the troll!”
“Yes. So... as one who walks the path of a warrior, I wish to serve the one who walks ahead.”
It would’ve been better if he hadn’t said “so,” but it was still good enough to pass. While Roden inwardly praised himself for teaching well, Sir Darkal suddenly widened his eyes and strode toward Shan.
“Looking at you in broad daylight, you don’t look like an Alto at all.”
While staring at his gentle-looking green eyes, he suddenly thrust his head forward. Having no reason to take it, Shan dodged slightly. The bald head missed its target, swinging through the air.
“Why are you suddenly trying to headbutt me?”
“Insolent brat! How dare you dodge an elder’s headbutt!”
Is this guy insane?
Shan looked to the side in disbelief.
Judging by the equally baffled expressions of Roden, Kalion, and the others, headbutting someone upon first meeting them was not normal etiquette.
“It would hurt, you know.”
“Of course it would.. Hmph. At least it wasn’t a lie. An ordinary person wouldn’t be able to react to such an unexpected attack at all.”
As if the earlier scolding had been a lie, a satisfied smile spread across Sir Darkal’s face. He had thought that it would be worth the trip even if half of the overreacting praise written in Kalion’s letter was true, but now it didn’t seem to be entirely false. He also liked that the boy didn’t act servile even when faced with a shouting old knight.
“Guildmaster Kalion. You called me here because you want me to teach this one?”
“I only ask that you take a look at him! If you like him enough to take him as a disciple, it would be an honor...”
“No need for long talk. The conditions will be the same as when I taught Roden. I’ll decide on recommending him for knighthood based on the results.”
With the smooth progress, Kalion bowed deeply. Though his speech and behavior seemed frivolous, this old knight was no ordinary retired knight who took disciples just for money.
“Thank you, Sir Darkal.”
“Then no need to waste time. Hey, kid! Follow me!”
Sir Darkal immediately gestured to Shan and strode inside. Shan, who had been standing blankly, turned to Roden.
“Is he always like that?”
“Yeah. You just have to get used to it... He’s not a bad person. Really.”
If Roden says so, then it must be true.
The place Sir Darkal brought Shan to was the inner garden, where he had been practicing alone. It seemed he intended to begin training immediately without even changing out of his travel-worn clothes. Sitting on a large rock in one corner of the garden, he gave Shan his first instruction, which was utterly bizarre.
“First, I need to check your body. Strip!”
“My clothes?”
“You can’t strip your skin, can you?! I’m saying that you get rid of the ridiculously luxurious velvet pants and top you’re wearing! You don’t need to remove your underwear!”
Shan tilted his head briefly, then immediately stripped off his clothes. He had been forcibly washed naked many times back when he lived in Willow Village, so he felt no particular resistance to exposing his body. Sir Darkal examined his body covered in scars without changing his expression. After a moment, he simply let out a satisfied hum.
“Not bad. Not bad at all! Anyone who would become a knight must know how to endure pain! Kids these days are raised too softly. They whine at the slightest pain...” the old knight muttered.
After that, Sir Darkal reached out and began thoroughly feeling Shan’s entire body—from his neck, chest, shoulders, back, abdomen, waist, thighs, and legs. This was a scene that could strip him of all the honor he had built as a knight and land him in court.
“No twisted bones, and your muscle structure is surprisingly ideal. Lacking strength, but still... It’s hard to believe you’ve never been properly trained. But why is your body so unusually light?”
“I’ve always been this naturally light.”
“There’s no such thing as ‘naturally light’! If you have the same height and similar muscle and fat, but you’re lighter than your peers, then there must be a reason for the difference! Such as weak bones, missing organs... I’ll have to examine that later.”
The examination continued. Shan was told to jump in place several times, run around the garden, and hop side to side. When Sir Darkal told him to push his hand with all his strength, he exclaimed in admiration at the force.
“I noticed it while watching you move, but you’re definitely strong... No, it’s not just strength! You know how to use it properly.”
“You’re right!”
Since it was the first time anyone had recognized that, interest flickered in Shan’s otherwise indifferent eyes.
“Roden! Bring me my sword!” Sir Darkal shouted to Roden.
“Here it is, Master.”
As if he had prepared in advance, Roden immediately handed him a sword from his luggage. The moment the old knight took a stance with both hands on the sword, Shan felt as if the air around him had changed. The noisy, shouting old man was no more, and in his place stood a warrior forged through long years of blood and steel.
“Watch my movements.”
After saying that, Sir Darkal slowly began demonstrating each sword technique. Stancing his legs wide, he showed a diagonal slash, a horizontal block, then brought it down to the right before lifting it diagonally again. After performing around twenty movements, he let out a long breath and asked Shan,
“Well?”
“...Among the people I’ve seen, I think you use a sword the best.”
Though he couldn’t be certain without an opponent, it seemed more refined than the techniques of the two knights he had seen before. His standard was how smoothly the force flowed without loss during movement. This old knight compensated for the muscle strength he had lost with age through precise technique. But did that make him truly impressive or worthy of admiration?
Not really.
If Shan were to wear that old man’s body right now and mimic his movements, he could execute them faster and more strongly. He didn’t know what he had been like in his prime, but as he was now, Shan was confident he could kill him within ten seconds in a longsword fight. That was assuming they wouldn’t even clash blades directly, considering the presence of Spirit. Even though Sir Darkal read those thoughts, he didn’t get angry—instead, he grinned.
“Yeah, to you, it would seem about that level. Then, watch this.”
With that remark, the smile vanished from the old knight’s face as he looked at Shan. His gaze was filled with resentment, as if staring at the murderer of his parents. Fixing Shan with a look that even carried physical pressure, Sir Darkal slowly raised his sword, twisted his body, and thrust once.
Even though he struck empty air, it was clear that it was a motion that blocked an opponent’s downward strike and countered at the same time. That single movement had not the slightest waste of force. Just like the thrust of the Black Spear Fional in the past, it showed a perfectly ideal flow of power.
Shan realized that the old man before him had reached a similar level of mastery. At some point, Sir Darkal’s entire body was drenched in sweat. He wiped his shining bald head with the back of his hand.
“How was it?”
“...It was perfect.”
“It’s a movement I’ve trained without missing a single day for over forty years since learning it from my master. It would be a problem if it weren’t at least that good!”
Smiling in satisfaction at Shan’s answer, Sir Darkal reached his conclusion.
“Anyway, when it comes to movements, I’m the one who should be learning from you. A human whose every motion follows the principles of perfection, huh... What a thing to witness in my lifetime!”
Not fully understanding, but sensing it was praise, Shan gave an awkward smile. A strange emotion—whether joy or regret—lingered on Sir Darkal’s face.
“What you need now are a few techniques and a stronger, tougher body!”
“And learning how to use Spirit, too.”
“That will come naturally when you push yourself to the limit, so don’t worry about it! By the way, have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
“Good!”
Why suddenly ask about having a meal?
As if answering Shan’s puzzled look, Sir Darkal lightly kicked the large rock he had been sitting on earlier. The eyes that had seemed somewhat lonely moments ago were now filled with cruel sadism.
“Lift it!”
“What?”
“With both hands, above your head! Keep going until I tell you to stop!”










