WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

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◈ The Pushover Young Lord in a Romance Fantasy Won't Take It Anymore ◈

Chapter 12: If We Meet Again

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"I never thought I'd come back here before I died."

The main castle of Cardenos towered over the heart of the territory.

A storm of emotions passed through Hendrickson's eyes as he looked up at the grand spires and walls.

"So much has changed in ten years."

"I told you to wash up first. You stink so badly I don't even want to walk beside you."

Kids these days, tch. Always trying to take the easy path and complaining about this and that.

The eccentric old man who had cursed until his mouth went dry had become a different person in no time.

What else could it be? It started after I showed him my Sun Ring.

Hendrickson had seen straight through the respect and admiration I held for him.

Money and sweet talk could not move an old warrior.

Sincere respect. That alone was enough.

From that point on, he began listening to me and eventually followed me all the way here to Cardenos.

Hendrickson would be the one to teach me regularly.

Leaving him in that stinking gutter would have caused problems of its own.

"Calling you old man doesn't feel right. Should I call you Master instead?"

"Master, my ass. I've never said I'd accept you as my disciple."

-Don't call me Master. I don't want a disciple better than me. It'd give me an inferiority complex.

He really never changed.

I had seen his future from where he stood now.

At its end was the old warrior's final moment.

-I'll take this side. Put a sword between my teeth before the reverse charge. Even if I die, I'm taking that bastard with me.

A final blaze.

Even after losing both arms, the sight of his back as he refused to lose his fighting spirit had taught me many things.

Even the way he called a retreat a reverse charge. Hendrickson died like himself to the very end.

A lump formed in my throat.

I paused for a moment before speaking, afraid my voice might crack if I spoke right away.

"Then let's make you a guest retainer or military adviser."

"Military adviser? Are you telling me to teach other people too?"

"You can do it. You can do it all. There's nothing you can't do."

"What I hate most is young blood. Brats with no sense!"

He sounded like an old man lecturing everyone, but he was not wrong.

The age of destruction I had foreseen.

There was a clear limit to what I could accomplish with my strength alone.

Recruiting new talent to my side was important, but organizing the forces I already had was just as urgent.

The current Black Lion Knights had grown accustomed to taking the easy road.

I planned to tear them down from the roots and remake them into a formidable force of Sun Ring knights.

There was no better person for such work anywhere in the Empire than Hendrickson.

'It won't happen overnight, though.'

A person's foundation could not change in a day.

I expected it to take at least a year, perhaps as long as three.

There was no need to rush. Slow but certain was the proper path.

"By the way, is that bastard in there?"

"Who do you mean?"

"You know. That inflexible, insufferable bastard."

"Ah, the Duke is away."

Father was at the Cardenos Elders' Council.

He was there to report on the recent incident and prepare measures against Rosenthal's retaliation.

The elders were probably raging and demanding that he bring me before them.

Still, Father would settle it himself. Surely.

"Insufferable bastard. I didn't want to see his face anyway, so this works out nicely."

His voice still dripped with disgust.

A traitor who had abandoned rings for the shortcut. That was how he had described Father even before coming here.

He was literally trash-talking my dad, but I could understand it well enough.

They had once shared a close master-disciple bond. Of course the shock had been severe.

'It'll be solved once Father weaves rings again.'

Blood did not lie. Father was a warrior to the bone as well.

It was only a matter of time before he returned to rings.

We headed straight for the First Training Ground within the castle.

"Hup!"

As we drew closer, battle cries mingled with the sound of clashing metal.

Dust rose into the air. Training was in full swing.

"Young Master!"

"Young Lord, you're here!"

The moment I appeared at the training ground, the gathered apprentice knights noticed me.

I flinched the instant I saw them. They came rushing over like they had spotted prey.

Dozens of knights lined up before me in an instant.

With so many hulking knights gathered in one place, the sight was strangely intimidating.

Thud!

One knight dropped to one knee first.

It was Garten, the squad leader who had first crossed swords with me in a spar.

Starting with Garten, dozens of knights knelt before me as one.

"Brat, how badly have you been bullying these kids?"

"What nonsense are you talking about? Do I look like that kind of person?"

"Like father, like son."

Listen to this old man. Should I send him back to the gutter?

Garten raised their head with a solemn expression.

"Please, Young Lord! Teach us how to weave rings too!"

What?

As I processed the meaning of the words, the others raised their voices as well.

"I want to learn too! I was deeply moved by what you showed us!"

"I'll gladly endure any hardship! Please let us weave true rings like you do!"

Their cries rang through the training ground.

Every one of them longed to return to rings.

I knew how unforgettable it must have been for them to see me overwhelm Julian, who had opened three Paths with a single ring.

'But this much?'

I expected them to be curious, not to be so eager already.

Pretending to be troubled, I rubbed my chin and glanced to the side.

'Well, would you look at that?'

Just moments ago, this old man had been shouting about how young people these days were what he hated most.

Now he stood frozen like a fossil, his mouth hanging open.

"So there are this many sensible young brats?"

Dozens of young knights wanted to inherit the pride that had been despised for decades and ultimately cast aside.

I laughed aloud and gave his shoulder a light pat.

"Looks like we've got a mountain of people to work into the ground from now on."

* * *

"Young Lord, who is that smelly old man?"

"I don't know. He kept following me around asking for money. Look, he followed me all the way here. What a beggar."

"...! Do you know where you are!?"

"That little bastard."

I was a little disappointed in the knights.

A one-armed old man with narrow eyes.

With that combination, shouldn't they have realized he was no ordinary person?

I formally introduced Hendrickson to the knights.

Their reactions were unanimously intense.

"Gasp!"

"S-Sir Hendrickson!?"

"S-S-Swordmaster, it's an honor to meet you!"

"I'm sorry I failed to recognize you, Sir Hendrickson!"

The knights who had frowned at his stench immediately broke into wide grins.

Becoming a Swordmaster was every knight's dream.

Some even said they should get his autograph.

That was that, and this was this.

I settled the noisy commotion and gathered the knights in one place.

Standing among them, I spoke to Hendrickson.

"Please take as much time as possible, and use the most grueling method you can."

Thankfully, none of the knights looked shaken. They must have all made up their own minds.

-The slowest path is the hardest, and because it is hard, it is certain.

That was something Hendrickson had said during the war.

In the middle of a war, there was nowhere near enough time to build a framework and lay a foundation.

With the focus solely on killing the enemy at hand, all that was built was a castle on sand.

As a result, humanity hit its limits and met a hollow destruction.

If it had not been for Lucia and me, destruction would have come several years sooner.

Hendrickson stroked his beard with his left hand.

"You know a thing or two. Speed isn't what matters. Direction is. The slow road is the right road. Fine. I'll teach you the most vicious and godawful method I've known in my entire life."

* * *

"...."

For the fourth day in a row, Julian lay in the same hospital bed.

Julian stared blankly at the ceiling.

He was reviewing the duel he had lost so completely, trying to settle the remnants of his emotions.

"Astin..."

That name slipped through his parched lips.

Even with his eyes closed, Astin's face remained vivid. His voice would not leave Julian's ears.

-Move! Don't even touch me, you lowborn thing!

The spoiled young lord who had treated Julian like an insect at the academy.

-You're that fallen noble, Julian? Why are you even here when your family has fallen? You should've followed your parents.

Those arrogant eyes that had mocked him with contempt.

Julian weighed the Astin of the past against the Astin of the present.

After long contemplation, he reached one conclusion.

"Astin has changed."

He reviewed the duel.

From beginning to end, Astin had been the one controlling his emotions.

Astin clearly knew how to restrain himself. Julian had been the one who could not.

The current Astin was no longer that immature womanizer.

-What, you didn't think this would happen? You should've come prepared for this much. Isn't this what happens when you look down on me like I'm a complete joke and only think about winning?

Astin had been right a hundred times over.

Julian had underestimated his opponent and never even considered defeat. Was there any greater shame for a knight?

Astin had been justified. No.

Even though he had every right to vent his anger and punish Julian, he had shown mercy instead.

"...How shameful."

Julian covered his face with both hands.

He tried putting himself in Astin's place.

A descendant of a fallen noble house, erased even from the register of nobility, had stormed into the Grand Ducal House of Cardenos and challenged its direct heir to a duel.

Since Astin had won, even cutting off his opponent's head would have been a just punishment.

"If that man had truly been swept away by emotion, I wouldn't be here."

Astin could have pretended it was an accident and cut off Julian's head.

The disgrace of losing a duel? A true scoundrel would value his emotions over honor.

Astin was different. Completely different.

-To be honest, even wasting emotional energy on people like you is a waste. So why do you think I went this far? If I sent you back unharmed, you'd keep repeating the same rotten behavior.

Even his dagger-like words had all been right.

As Astin said, if Julian had returned physically unharmed, his mind would have remained the same too.

-If it hadn't been me, someone else would've taught you a brutal lesson someday. It only ended this lightly because it was me.

Put simply, Astin's treatment had been physical therapy.

With a little exaggeration, it had been physical therapy that saved Julian's life.

"Why did I do that?"

Thinking about it now, it was strange.

Why had Julian caused such a mess over one woman?

At the time, Julian had treasured Azelin enough not to care about his own life.

Not anymore. Having experienced the possibility of truly dying, Julian now keenly understood the value of life.

"If we meet again."

Should Julian offer an apology, or thanks?

His lips would not part easily.

-You're always like this. I spell it out and you still don't understand. Yet you dismiss us as ghosts who only go in circles around endless rings, instead of respecting knights who endure hardship.

Julian felt ashamed, both as a man and as a knight.

Astin's words had come from sincere respect for the knights of old.

Astin deeply respected senior knights whom Julian had never even cared to notice.

"...Sun Ring."

Astin's image lingered in Julian's mind like an afterimage.

Astin, carrying a red-gold ring over his heart.

Bang!

The infirmary door flew open.

"Julian! I'm here. How are you feeling? Are you all right?"

"...."

Azelin hurried over to Julian.

This was the Rosenthal Family Infirmary.

Azelin had come to visit Julian whenever she found time, every day.

Usually, Julian would have welcomed that concern with gratitude.

'Astin isn't the only one who has changed.'

With his eyes closed, Julian spoke with difficulty.

"I'm sorry, Azelin."

"No. I should be sorry. You ended up like this because of me."

"No. Your beautiful face was scarred. It's all because of me."

"What are you talking about? Astin, that womanizer, did this to my face. It isn't your fault."

Julian sat up. Nothing on his body hurt.

It had originally been a minor injury, one that would have allowed him to move after resting for a few days. Astin had held back that much.

Julian had remained here only because Rosenthal, or more precisely Azelin, had been overly protective.

Julian sat on the edge of the hospital bed.

Azelin tried to make him lie down again in concern, but Julian stopped her.

"My lady."

The mouth that had once spoken her name so tenderly now spoke with finality.

"We are in no position to resent Astin."

"...What?"

"We, no, I brought all of this upon myself. The one who first held affection for you, and the one who challenged Young Lord Astin to a duel. It was all my doing."

"Why are you suddenly saying this, Julian?"

This matter had spread into a conflict between their two houses.

Julian felt a deep responsibility for it.

"Since I lost the duel, you and I cannot be together."

"Don't say that, Julian. What does that stupid duel matter? You don't have to give me up just because you lost. Love matters more than honor. You said so yourself."

He had. Once.

Julian rose from his seat. He turned his back on Azelin coldly.

"Thank you for everything, my lady."

"J-Julian?"

"My feelings for you were never a lie. But I believe it is time for them to end."

It was the path for both of them.

"Julian! Why are you suddenly acting like this!?"

Azelin cried out behind him.

"Come back! You know you're all I have! What am I supposed to do if you leave too!?"

Julian squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the doorknob.

There were no lingering feelings. His cooled heart did not race even when he looked at her.

Bang!

The door shut.

Left alone, Azelin stared blankly at it.

Soon, her brow twisted into a vicious scowl.

The source of all this misfortune.

"...Astin."

My reputation, my face, my love.

One man had ruined all of it.

All because I did not accept his feelings even once!

Crunch!

She clenched her teeth until her molars ached.

"Astiiin! I'll never forgive you!"

House Rosenthal remembers debts and grudges even after death.

She had to make that bastard understand exactly who he had dared to provoke.

Rosenthal stood behind her.

Of course, in a direct contest with Cardenos, the balance of power would be even.

But there was one person.

Not a great house, but a single person who could turn the situation around.

'I never wanted to use my friend, but I have to. It's come this far.'

People whose every move could shake the Empire.

The one person who could command such figures with a single word, Lucia.

She was Azelin's closest friend.

Footnotes:

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