WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Haruto
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◈ The Pushover Young Lord in a Romance Fantasy Won't Take It Anymore ◈
Chapter 48: Please, Anything But That
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Even with innate talent and full support, real combat was a different realm.
The sensation of entrails spilling out and blood spraying everywhere was something money and status could never buy.
Warriors from the bottom rung were born for real combat. To some, it was a curse. To others, a blessing.
Nobles who did not understand that truth were no different from frogs in a well.
"Young Lord Astin."
He was a noble too, one who believed a gilded neck would keep a blade from cutting it.
Bagot drew his black iron greatsword and gave it a light swing through the air.
Whoooong!
The sharp whistle tore through the air. That was only a casual swing to loosen his muscles.
It was a display of strength so great that even the wind from his sword could cut flesh.
Bagot raised the blunt end of his greatsword and pointed it at Astin.
"I'll give you credit for forging rings."
The Sun Ring was the only thing worthy of praise.
Choosing the path of hardship when an easier path lay open carried considerable weight.
Still, what mattered in the end was skill and experience.
"We're heading for the Ashen Forest. If I bet my life on nothing but a sprout's potential, I'd be too resentful to rest even after I died."
Death did not frighten him. A meaningless death did.
The warriors surrounding the training ground silently nodded at Bagot's words.
Shing!
Astin raised the sword in his hand at an angle. Heat poured from his body.
Three red-gold Sun Rings blazed fiercely around his heart.
The air around him twisted like a heat haze.
Bagot's lowered eyes widened.
"You mean it?"
He was going all out, not just with his swordsmanship.
That was what it meant to push one's rings to their limits in a spar.
"I've forged five rings."
Astin, on the other hand, only had three. The difference in their weight class was obvious.
Yet Astin's face remained perfectly calm.
"I know."
"You know?"
If this were swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat alone, Astin might have had a sliver of a chance.
What was he planning? Bagot narrowed his eyes as he tried to gauge Astin's intentions.
"What does five matter? Your rings are practically half-finished."
"...What?"
"Most ring knights compromise. They make sloppy rings, then celebrate over them."
By Astin's exacting standards, Bagot's Sun Rings only measured up to three.
They were the result of compromises made at death's door.
"Whether you've got five or six, you can't beat me. The quality is on an entirely different level."
Flawless Sun Rings, formed by compressing blazing energy to an extreme density.
As far as Astin knew, only two people had forged them one after another.
One was Astin himself.
His gaze drifted to Lucia, who watched him from afar.
"Heh heh heh..."
Bagot's black iron helmet trembled faintly.
The Sun Rings he had forged over a lifetime had just been dismissed outright.
It should have sounded arrogant. It should have made him furious.
Oddly enough, he did not dislike it.
"We'll find out when our swords meet!"
Bagot adjusted his grip on the massive hilt.
Whoosh!
As if a fuse had been lit, his five Sun Rings began to turn.
Watching him burn with fighting spirit, Astin let out a faint sigh.
"Baguette, you stubborn idiot."
"What? It's Bagot."
"That's your biggest problem. You don't know yourself or your enemy."
The image of someone stubbornly marching off to die alone flashed through his mind.
Even courage became recklessness when taken too far.
In this world, you had to choose your opponents before picking a fight.
Astin decided to make Bagot understand his place.
So he would never throw his life away again.
Ting!
A silver coin traced an arc through the air and fell.
For one brief instant, a thousand people held their breath in deathly silence.
Clang!
The instant the metal rang out, Bagot kicked off the ground. His body appeared before Astin in a flash.
The black iron greatsword plunged toward Astin's crown. It moved so quickly that the whistle of the blade followed behind it.
Kwang!
The entire training ground shook as if struck by an earthquake. The stone tiles caved in explosively, and dust surged up like a curtain.
The mercenaries watching from afar shook their heads.
"It's over."
"Tsk. Why would he challenge Sir Bagot?"
It was a head-on clash between opponents with a clear difference in weight class. It would not have been strange for it to end in one exchange.
"...Huh?"
Someone's stunned gasp split the silence.
Once the dust cleared, the sight before them surpassed the audience's imagination.
Astin had not been pushed back a single step.
He had blocked Bagot's greatsword with ease, and his legs did not shake in the slightest.
"Ghk...!"
The suppressed groan came from Bagot.
Despite striking down from above with all his weight behind it, he was gradually being pushed back.
'This is only three rings?'
Bagot's arms trembled violently. From their clashing blades, he felt an unbelievable density of Solar.
Solar compressed into something like solid rock, impossible to believe came from only three rings.
"I told you."
At point-blank range, with their swords touching, Astin's flat voice struck his ears.
"Your rings are half-finished."
Kang!
Astin lightly twisted his wrist and knocked the greatsword aside. That simple deflection drove Bagot's massive body far backward.
"Hup!"
Bagot steadied his breathing and charged again.
Kang! Clang! Kwa-kang!
Merciless slashes rained down on Astin without pause. Sparks scattered in every direction, lighting the field as brightly as noon.
Sweat poured down like a waterfall beneath the heat of their blazing Sun Rings. The ground beneath their feet slowly began to melt.
Kang!
Astin stood rooted in place, knocking aside and redirecting Bagot's slashes.
He defended with the leisure of someone indulging a child's tantrum.
Bagot's fierce assault could not breach that steadfast defense.
"What's wrong? Didn't you say you forged five rings?"
"Shut up!"
Frustration gradually filled Bagot's face.
He had thought Astin was a brat who had never even smelled blood, an arrogant noble who knew nothing of how vast the world was.
Kang!
Amid the thunderous clashing of metal, his breath began to catch.
The Sun Rings that had burst forth so fiercely were gradually fading. Their power was being shaved away into sparks scattered through the air.
"Huff..."
Bagot withdrew his sword and stepped back. His hand throbbed as though it were about to split apart.
Astin's sword held more than talent.
Not once did he make an unnecessary movement. None of the flashy flourishes typical of nobles could be found.
His swordsmanship was flawless.
Some might say it lacked technique, but technique was the byproduct of imperfection.
Perfection had no need for it.
Whoosh!
Astin redirected a slash at an angle, then thrust his sword toward the exposed breastplate. Bagot barely twisted away.
His ability to judge a sword's range precisely and reflexes that never missed an opening.
Bagot could no longer deny one conclusion.
Astin's life had been steeped in blood and sweat.
If a Swordmaster's blade, one that had passed through countless brushes with death, existed, it would be like this.
"Bagot. Don't weigh your life so lightly."
A vicious red gleam flashed in Astin's eyes.
"To accomplish your purpose on the battlefield and die is an honorable death. Dying pointlessly is no different from a dog's death."
Bagot's mind went blank.
Astin knows I'm prepared to stake my life on this spar.
Swordsmanship and psychology.
This young lord stood unimaginably far above him in every respect.
Bagot himself had been the frog in the well.
He had boasted about forging five rings, and now he felt endlessly pathetic.
"...Fine."
Bagot pushed his rings to their limit and tightened his grip on his sword.
There was not a speck of fear or humiliation in him.
One of the rare thrills of his life. The instinct to break through his limits heated his entire body.
Gooooo!
Astin's Sun Rings began to condense in answer.
The heat that had scattered in every direction gathered into a single point. A red-gold flash, dazzling enough to sting the eyes, completely swallowed his blade.
Radiant sunlight, utterly unlike Bagot's rough, murky flames.
"...!"
Bagot's instincts sounded a frantic warning. Before their swords even touched, the radiant heat alone stole his breath.
Creak!
Bagot gritted his teeth and raised his sword. He poured every last bit of power from all his rings into this one strike.
Red-gold Solar coated the enormous black iron greatsword.
Whoosh!
Bagot abandoned defense completely. Leaping forward in a single bound, he struck at Astin's neck.
Kwaaaaa!
An explosive flash swallowed the training ground in an instant. The spectators screamed and reflexively covered their eyes.
With a deafening blast, a heavy mass of metal flew through the air.
Thud!
Bagot's black iron greatsword embedded itself in the stone tiles, humming as it vibrated.
"..."
"..."
At the center of the field, as the dust settled, Bagot knelt on the ground, breathing heavily.
His black armor had melted and warped in the heat, while his helmet had split in half and rolled across the ground.
An unwavering sword tip rested against Bagot's neck. A red-gold haze rose from the blade.
Bagot stared blankly at the sword pointed at his throat.
"...Bagot lost?"
The instant Bagot lowered his head, those who had been holding their breath began to stir.
"See? Look! Didn't I say you never know?"
"He only has three rings! How did he beat someone with five?"
"Didn't you hear the young lord? Not all rings are the same, idiot!"
Cries of shock and joy swept across the training ground.
Julian, meanwhile, gave a bitter smile as he felt a sense of déjà vu.
'I went through something like that too.'
One Sun Ring could defeat three Heart Furnaces.
After the shock had passed, joy and despair divided those gathered around the gambling table.
The people who had bet on Bagot stood there as if their souls had left their bodies.
The improvised gambling table had offered odds of three to one for the underdog.
"Brother! Brotheeer!"
Celine waved the three banknotes clutched tightly in her hand. A bright smile filled her face.
Lucia, watching beside her, also smiled gently. Hendrickson and Julian clapped with pleased expressions.
Only they had expected Astin to win.
The remaining thousands stood stunned, unable to shake off their shock.
Amid the cheers of joy and despair, Astin sheathed his sword.
"I was originally going to conduct an interview."
His hand settled over Bagot's shoulder.
"But you don't need one. You're officially assigned directly to my unit."
He held out a hand to Bagot, who sat on the ground. Bagot stared at it blankly, then a strange light entered his eyes.
Soon, Bagot clasped his hand and stood. A smile spread across his bloodstained lips.
"If you stay by my side, you won't die. Even if you do, I won't let it be a meaningless death."
"Very well. I'll follow right behind you, Young Lord."
Astin looked around.
Their duel had left a powerful impression.
The crowd watched Astin alone, breathing excitedly.
As though they were waiting for him to speak.
'This is a good atmosphere.'
He had defeated a knight who had forged five rings, not some minor nobody.
The eyes of those who had dismissed him as a child had changed completely.
Everything from here on would proceed smoothly.
"Anyone who wants to challenge me, come forward. I will gladly face you as an equal warrior, not as a young lord."
He would extinguish even the last trace of doubt.
They had all clearly witnessed Bagot being overwhelmed.
Anyone who challenged him anyway would simply be a madman who enjoyed fighting.
At some point, a disturbance broke out in the crowd.
Bellutak and Buraltak pulled out their weapons, snorting impatiently.
Just as Astin curled his lips and readjusted his grip on his sword.
Clink.
A silhouette approached through the crowd.
The noisy training ground fell silent so quickly that it became suffocating.
The crowd split sharply to either side, making way for one person.
Without realizing it, they had been crushed by that person's presence.
Astin's narrowed eyes slowly widened as he looked over.
Red-gold armor gleaming like gold.
Red-gold hair falling softly over her shoulders.
Red-gold eyes like fragments of the sun embedded within them.
A face that seemed to embody Solari, the Sun God.
And a red-gold sword strapped across her back.
"Holy Sword Keeper?"
Astin muttered without realizing it. Undisguised shock crossed his face.
The warriors filling the crowd might not have known who she was, but they could not ignore her presence.
'Why is she here?'
His thoughts froze, leaving him unable to even make a guess.
The Holy Sword Keeper was walking toward him. Astin instinctively stepped back.
The Holy Sword Keeper was stronger than a Swordmaster who had forged seven rings.
Among all living ring knights, she was the strongest.
'She's really coming to me?'
Astin's Adam's apple bobbed with tension.
Her steps and gaze were both fixed on him.
He had said anyone could come at him, but he never expected the Holy Sword Keeper to answer.
If Astin fought the Holy Sword Keeper a hundred times right now, he would lose every time.
Creak.
Astin clenched his molars.
Now that he had spoken, he could not take it back.
He could not win, but he could at least exchange a few moves with her. For now, that was enough.
Step.
The Holy Sword Keeper stood before Astin as he heated his rings.
Silence hung between them for a moment.
Shing.
The Holy Sword Keeper drew the Holy Sword from her back first.
Whoosh!
She extended her arm in one smooth motion, and the Holy Sword stopped before Astin's eyes.
"...?"
Astin's wide golden eyes trembled.
What stood before him was not the tip of the Holy Sword, but its hilt.
"Take it."
She spoke in a low, solemn voice. Her red-gold eyes shimmered like heat haze.
"If it is you, who can say?"
Only then did Astin grasp the situation.
The shock only doubled.
'...Please, anything but that.'
Footnotes:
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