WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Natty
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◈ The Regressor and the Blind Saintess ◈
Chapter 111: Auction - 3
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Late at night, in the mansion’s lodgings.
Vera sat with his arms crossed, glaring at the dagger on the table.
It was an unremarkable dagger he had won at the auction.
He had brought it because it resonated with the energy inside him after he consumed Aidrin’s fruit, but as he examined it now, his expression was not good.
‘It reacts, but...’
It only reacted.
The energy of Aidrin dwelling within him merely resonated with the dagger. Nothing else happened.
‘...It is the same even when I hold it.’
A faint vibration spread through him, but that was all.
Even when he prodded the energy with divine power or tried to stimulate the dagger, there was no further response.
What exactly was this dagger?
If it resonated with Aidrin’s energy, it must be related to the ancient race. Yet he had no idea how they were connected, and his frustration continued to mount.
A sigh escaped him, and a frown creased his face.
As Vera tapped the dagger with his forefinger, he soon thought of another approach.
‘...Ask someone who would know.’
If he could not figure it out himself, he should ask someone with relevant knowledge.
Fortunately, there was someone near Vera who knew a great deal about swords.
‘Dovan.’
It was late, so he would have to visit Dovan as soon as the sun rose tomorrow.
* * *
“It was not made for practical use, at least.”
That was what Dovan said while examining the dagger.
Dovan turned it over, then continued with solemn eyes.
“I do not know its exact purpose, but it was likely used as an ornament or in rituals. Do you see this sharp bend in the blade? A blade that curves so abruptly loses its balance, and its edge dulls quickly. It would be difficult to use in battle, or even for butchering.”
Vera nodded and examined the dagger along with Dovan.
“Can you determine its age? Or any rough information about the era in which it was used?”
“I cannot. The preservation of ironwork depends on how it was stored, so one sword alone cannot tell us much.”
Dovan scraped the surface of the blade with a fingernail, pulling away some of the rust caked onto it.
“I heard it was found in canyon ruins at the western edge. Considering those ruins were built at least two thousand years ago... we can only say it was made at least a thousand years ago.”
An artifact at least two thousand years old.
Vera’s expression darkened.
“...Then there will be no proper records.”
“Indeed. If it is an artifact from the Divine Age, finding materials on it will be difficult.”
A vanished age.
It was an artifact from the era now called the Divine Age, an era whose records had almost entirely vanished. There would be few who knew anything about it.
If he had to name someone who might know, there were the elves, the only race from the Divine Age that had not perished. Perhaps Freide among them.
‘...Going back to the Great Forest is impossible.’
Returning all that way for the sake of a single dagger would be far too inefficient.
As Vera continued thinking, Dovan noticed his downcast expression and spoke again.
“Well, if you truly wish to seek related documents, I think you should visit the Academic Institute at Tellon Academy. The scholars there are bound to know something.”
“The Academic Institute?”
“Is it not a place full of eccentrics? I believe there are researchers there who study the civilizations of the Divine Age.”
Vera’s eyes gleamed.
Dovan’s words had reminded him of something.
‘Miller.’
Miller the spellcaster. And the grimoire Miller had recovered, Whispers of the Dream Demon.
‘That was certainly an artifact from the Divine Age as well.’
It concerned a race from that ruined era, and Miller had said it was being researched at the Academy.
‘If I seek out those researchers...’
Might they know something?
It was not merely the origin of this plain dagger.
Vera touched the short dagger at his waist as he continued thinking.
‘The Life Devourer.’
The dagger containing the Demon King’s power, which he had taken from Gilly.
There might be people who knew about that item as well.
“Thank you. You have been a great help.”
“It was nothing.”
Dovan waved a hand and returned the dagger. Then, noticing that Vera’s expression had brightened somewhat, Dovan brought up another subject.
“...I heard you have been teaching Aisha lately.”
“Ah, yes.”
“How is it? Is she keeping up with her lessons?”
There was a trace of concern in Dovan’s voice.
Was that what a parent’s feelings were like?
Though Dovan was not Aisha’s birth parent, Vera found something warm stirring within him at the clear concern on display. He answered gently.
“She is exceptionally talented. If she continues to grow as she is, she may become one of the finest paladins in the Holy Kingdom.”
“Ho ho! Is that so? What a relief. Well, whatever else may be true, Aisha is quick on her feet, is she not? Ever since she was little, she was so nimble. Once she started causing trouble, she would turn the entire forge upside down...”
Dovan’s face brightened as Dovan began to chatter.
It was all praise for Aisha, filled with joy and affection that could not be hidden.
Vera quietly nodded along, a small smile on his lips.
* * *
Late afternoon, in the mansion’s backyard.
Vera continued sparring with Aisha for her training.
“Urk!”
“Your sword path is obvious. You are clumsy. If you want a quick attack, discard those half-hearted feints. If you want feints, focus entirely on them. You greedily try to do both, so your sword becomes neither one thing nor the other.”
Aisha’s face twisted at Vera’s indifferent criticism.
Vera crossed his arms at the sight of Aisha’s deeply protruding lips and continued in a mocking tone.
“If that pisses you off, try hitting me.”
The provocation was blatant. The corners of Aisha’s eyes rose sharply.
Tap!
Aisha charged. Vera shifted slightly, caught Aisha’s foot, and tripped her.
“Urk!”
“That was better than before. Right, you are too slow-witted for Phantom Sword, so focus on Swift Sword instead.”
Aisha trembled.
“...Old fart.”
Perhaps she meant to provoke him in return, spitting out the words angrily.
Naturally, it did not work on Vera.
“Brat.”
Vera threw the provocation back at her. Aisha’s face flushed red as she charged again.
“Yaaah... Urk?!”
And she went flying again.
Vera snorted as Aisha flailed about in the air, trying to steady herself.
“If you are going to provoke someone, observe them properly and say something that might shake them.”
Aisha landed safely on the ground and began to think.
Something that would catch her opponent off guard.
Something that would let her punch that irritating face.
Aisha recalled something Rene’s attendant had once called Vera while she was playing with Rene. Stammering, she let out the word.
“D... dork?”
Vera flinched.
He froze. His eyes widened.
For some reason, he felt like he knew what that word meant.
Had Rene been calling him a dork behind his back? The thought suddenly shook Vera’s composure, and Aisha’s eyes glittered when she noticed.
Vera was visibly flustered by words she had thrown out without even knowing their meaning. Aisha was thrilled.
She did not let the opening pass and charged again. Vera belatedly corrected his stance.
With a grin, Aisha spoke to Vera as he raised his hands.
“You are totally clueless!”
Vera’s complexion darkened.
Aisha’s fist shot forward. As thoughts such as, ‘Did the Saintess truly say such things?’ flashed through his mind, Vera swung an arm and sent Aisha flying with a whoosh!
“Gyaaah!!!”
As Aisha rose into the air yet again, she cursed inwardly.
‘It did not work at all!’
Vera had told her to use an unexpected provocation, and she was furious that it had not worked even a little.
Of course, unaware of that, Vera only felt a painful gloom welling within him.
* * *
Four more days passed.
Today was the day of Albrecht’s coming-of-age ceremony and the ball.
As Rene was being dressed and put into her ceremonial vestments for the blessing scheduled that evening, a strange feeling suddenly came over her.
‘A ball...’
As the daughter of a farmer in a rural estate, it was the sort of event Rene had never even dared to imagine attending.
‘I am really going to a place like that.’
The thought left her with an unfamiliar feeling. She was nervous as well.
It was not the ceremony or the gathered gazes that made her nervous. She had grown accustomed to such things during her time in the Holy Kingdom, so there was no reason to be nervous about them now.
Rather, she was nervous because she would be wearing a dress for the first time in her life. What if it did not suit her?
What if Vera thought she did not look good in it? Such thoughts made her heart churn.
‘...No.’
Rene forcibly suppressed the anxieties rising within her.
‘Lady Mari said I looked pretty.’
Annie, Hella, the other probationary priests, and even Aisha, who had not the slightest interest in dressing up, had all told her she looked pretty.
Showing such a lack of confidence would be rude to them.
“Once we put on the veil, we will be finished. Saintess, could you lift your head for a moment?”
As Rene continued thinking, Annie spoke. Rene slightly raised her head.
A very thin cloth was gently placed over it. The veil covered the back of her head and draped down over the front, slightly obscuring her eyes. Rene felt somewhat stifled and asked in a mildly complaining voice.
“Do I have to wear something like this too?”
“It is an official event, after all...”
“My face will be visible once I change into the dress anyway.”
“It is about the atmosphere. When people think of the Saintess’s blessing, they often imagine a mysterious atmosphere. Nobles especially eat that sort of thing up.”
Swish. Swish.
Even as Annie spoke, her hands continued moving busily.
“And this sort of thing can become a weapon, too.”
“A weapon?”
“Against Lord Vera.”
Rene flinched.
At the mention of Vera, her face heated slightly. Without realizing it, she had leaned toward Annie, showing just how intently she was listening.
It was because she had clearly seen the effectiveness of Annie’s advice during her previous date.
Annie giggled at the sight and offered another piece of advice.
“You keep yourself all wrapped up like this, then bam! You change into a dress, showing off your figure. How surprised do you think Lord Vera will be? The greater the difference, the greater the effect. Men are weak to visual stimulation, you know.”
Rene pressed her lips tightly together. At the thought of revealing her figure, she stiffened with nervousness.
“And then you sway a little and lean against Lord Vera!!!”
A sly smile appeared on Annie’s lips.
“Game over. You remember, right? You need to emphasize your collarbones and the back of your neck. A fragile image! Create that mood where he just wants to protect you and hold you!”
The longer Annie spoke, the more her characteristically lively tone grew.
“And then, after one drink...!”
“No alcohol!”
Rene cried out in alarm. Her face reddened with embarrassment for an entirely different reason, and she stammered out an excuse.
“Ah, I am still underage, so alcohol is... Yes. No alcohol.”
As shameful memories assailed her without warning, she fumbled through her words. Annie clicked her tongue in disappointment.
“Ah, right. That is a shame. Then we will go without alcohol.”
Rene quickly nodded up and down in agreement.
“G-good luck...!”
She spoke words of encouragement to herself.
‘Back of the neck, collarbones, pretend to faint on purpose!’
In her mind, she kept repeating Annie’s words as though she had received the teachings of a sage.
During the long final event of their stay in the Empire, Rene steeled herself to make a decisive move at this ball.
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