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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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“Will that fellow truly become the guardian of my son?”
“He will. At least, that’s what the stars and divination revealed.”
“…Thanks to that divination of yours, I was able to avert many crises. But this latest reading is a bit hard for me to accept.”
The wizard skilled at pebble divination and astrology let out a low chuckle.
“But his skills are undeniable, are they not? Heavens, he subdued a manticore with just a single sword. If I hadn’t witnessed it myself this past week, I would have thought him a charlatan. In any case, there will be no danger to your son due to any lack of swordsmanship on his part.”
Sigelard fiddled with his pipe.
“Yes…I merely hope that rascal doesn’t turn back midway through the journey and stab my son with that sword of his.”
The wizard, who had been chuckling lowly, now laughed a bit more loudly.
“Hahaha. My lord, the celestial scales are watching over him. That means, even if he is a villain, he is not one to break his promises. And earlier, he did agree to this task.”
“Well, I did force him into it.”
“One who tries to evade a contract in such a manner cannot be under the stars’ watchful gaze.”
For a moment, the wizard adopted a stern expression, as if he were the emissary of those very stars. Seeing this, Sigelard let out a snort of laughter.
“Yes, yes, I understand. No need to get so serious. It’s simply the worries of an old man. Why, even without such a reason, could not the stars take notice of one who shows potential for transcendence?”
“…But he is a descendant of Valtazar, not Valtazar himself. That was not an amusing joke.”
Sigelard nodded. It had been a bit of an exaggeration. Transcendence meant to ascend to the heavens – in other words, to stand alongside the gods.
“In any case, I have now gathered all three guardians for my son, as the divination foretold. I can only hope Eppol’s blessings will be upon their path ahead.”
At Sigelard’s words, the wizard bowed his head and exited the tent. The two members of the royal guard who had already been prepared, along with Sigelard’s son and the barbarian warrior Valian, would depart at dawn. Sigelard closed his eyes and massaged his brow.
According to the divination he had performed thrice, his son’s fate now lay along one of two paths. Either he would become a king by obtaining the teachings of the Steel Twin Towers, along with the guidance of the royal guards and Valian. He would become the ruler of a great empire spanning not just this kingdom of Aioniah, but also Aria, Ainakia, and Velladine.
The other possibility revealed by the divination was that instead of becoming an emperor, he could become a seeker. But that reading had been so simple and lacking in detail that Sigelard could not be certain whether it boded well or ill.
What was certain, however, was that his son would come of age through this journey. And for a father who had cast aside his birthright to seize this position for himself, that alone seemed enough.
* * *
Valian sat outside the tent, in front of the campfire. The other mercenaries had all gone inside to sleep. The cool morning air and the warmth of the crackling flames met upon his face. Valian gazed unblinkingly into the flickering campfire. Suddenly, memories of those he wished to see resurfaced – hazy shadows of people from his original world.
He tossed another log into the dwindling fire. Sparks flew as the charcoal and wood collided.
“What a waste. We’ll be leaving soon, you know.”
A slithering, serpentine voice rang out. Three figures emerged at the edge of the firelight. One was a knight in partial plate armor. Another was a woman with tousled red hair, wearing a lightweight armor of chains and leather straps over which a cloak was draped. And the last was a young boy clad in an expensive leather buff coat.
The woman spoke, “You must be Valian? Let’s save the introductions for later and get going first. Dawn isn’t far off.”
Valian let out a puff of breath before rising. His meager belongings in a small pack were tied to the back of a horse.
The four riders and their mounts slowly made their way out of the encampment. The sentries on guard, having likely received prior notice, did nothing more than cast indifferent glances their way.
Ellya was there too. She briefly stopped the group at the edge of the camp. The red-haired woman spoke to her.
“Ellia the Knight.”
“Merna.”
Ellia exchanged a cursory greeting with the woman, then approached the sullen-faced boy and took hold of his reins. The boy’s eyes turned towards her.
“Drigen. How are you feeling?”
“…Cold.”
A smile crept onto her face.
“It’s not that cold out, though. Nervous?”
The boy’s brow furrowed into a frown.
“…I wasn’t nervous.”
Her smile deepened.
“Of course. A Steel Sword like Drigen wouldn’t be nervous.”
Ellia also exchanged a word with the helmeted knight, then finally looked up at Valian.
“I entrust the young master to you, great warrior of Valtazar.”
“Where did you hear that from?”
“I read it in a book from ages ago. It came to mind as soon as I left the lord’s tent.”
Valian let out a chuckle.
“The Eppol Order doesn’t recognize Valtazar, do they?”
“That’s just the die-hards. To them, anything other than Eppol is a mere lesser spirit.”
Ellia swatted Valian’s thigh playfully with her palm.
“What a pity. I had so many questions about Ainakia.”
“And I had many about you.”
Valian’s slightly suggestive tone made Ellia burst into laughter. She drew a hand axe from her belt.
“I had asked for a throwing axe as advance payment, didn’t I? Here it is.”
The axe now in Valian’s hand was a well-made implement of suitable weight and a keen edge, with an overall sleek design.
“Just this measly thing as advance payment? Not very greedy, are you?”
“What good would a few gold coins do me now, other than tempting me to run away midway through?”
She laughed again. And so, under the pale lightening sky, the four riders departed with the sendoff of the knight Ellia.
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As they rode, the woman Merna called out, “We’ll ride until the sun is fully up! Grip those reins tight and keep up!”
And the group did just that. Unaccustomed to riding, Valian’s rear grew sore. What was surprising was that the young boy Drigen showed no signs of discomfort despite the hard riding. Either he was very used to it, or he had remarkable endurance for one so young.
Before long, the sun had fully risen, pouring brilliant shimmering rays through the gaps between the mountain ridges and trees. Beads of sweat glistened on the horses’ bodies, refracting the light to accentuate their rippling muscles – a sight that would inspire painters. For Valian and his sore behind, however, it was a sight to die for.
Thus, having traveled a fair distance from the warfront, the group came upon a stream barring their path. It was not an overly wide river, nor a particularly deep one. Merna spoke up.
“We’ll take a short break here.”
The horses dipped their muzzles into the water to drink. The group retrieved and tore into pieces of dried bread from their packs. Between bites, Merna spoke.
“Valian? Earlier I mentioned we’d introduce ourselves, didn’t I? I’m Merna – a mage who’s also somewhat skilled with the blade. For now, I’ve been tasked with guiding us to the Steel Twin Towers. So if you have any questions or complaints about the journey, unless you have a better idea, just keep quiet and follow me.”
Ah. An assertive woman. Appealing. Her tone was firm and decisive. Combined with her striking red hair and pronounced features, she exuded considerable charisma.
“My name is Econ. I was trained under Knight Carl Tys and became a knight myself, serving under him in Lord Sigelard’s royal guard. Ah, and… haha. Well, it’s a pleasure to work with you.”
The knight who removed his helmet seemed a simple, good-natured young man. His blond hair and handsome looks lent him an air of haplessness.
“…I am the wielder of the Steel Sword and heir to House Dustick. A squire of the Dawn Knights and designated successor to receive the Twin Towers’ teachings. And I am the son of Sigelard, Drigen.”
…Didn’t he say he was twelve? Looks like the turbulent years hit a bit early for this one.
Merna must have had a similar thought, for she added a remark.
“Drigen here is a rather mature one for his age. And all those introductions are indeed factual, by the way.”
The boy regarded Valian with a somewhat haughty expression. A punchable little brat, he was.
“We’ve all introduced ourselves. What about you?”
In response to Merna’s prompt, Valian answered.
“Valian. I came over the Great Mountain Range of Ainakia. Wandered around hunting monsters and evil spirits here and there.”
“…Is that all?”
Econ’s tentative inquiry made Valian scratch his brow.
“Well. The most famous monster I’ve slain would be the manticore.”
“Ah, that one! So you’re the one who beheaded it!”
“Beheaded?”
Drigen’s tone and gaze displayed genuine puzzlement. It seemed the boy’s curiosity about Valian had finally been piqued. Econ explained:
“A couple of years ago, a manticore appeared near Entahal. That monster, which normally dwells deep in the forests or mountains, had taken up residence right at a major crossroads leading to Entahal city.
Its presence paralyzed the city’s economy, and the surrounding peasants lived in terror. The lord of Entahal led his troops to try and slay the beast, but the winged manticore would simply take flight to evade them briefly before returning to claim more victims.
Eventually, the lord offered a huge bounty to anyone who could kill the monster. But sadly, many would-be adventurers driven only by greed rather than skill ended up as mere morsels for the manticore. Then, that’s when…”
Econ’s finger pointed towards Valian.
“…The Beheader arrived. Armed with just a single sword, he sought out the manticore. After what must have been a battle worthy of legend, he severed the monster’s head. He then collected the bounty and departed – a hero who had saved the land, yet made no special demands, simply having done his duty. It’s quite a renowned tale in Entahal. Knight Carl Tys himself witnessed it.”
Damn. Memories of that incident flickered through Valian’s mind. That manticore had become so famous that any half-decent swordsman from all corners had flocked there, each waiting for the other to take the first step towards becoming human shishkebab.
And because of all those prospective glory-seekers, the lord of Entahal had been forced to offer a bounty far exceeding what he had intended. As for Valian, he could ask for nothing more. Besides, there was a bit more to that tale left untold.
The lord of Entahal had secretly ordered four of his knights to retrieve the bounty from Valian by any means necessary. All four ended up dead by Valian’s blade. That was the reason he had left the northwestern region and come this way – to put some distance between himself and the inevitably vengeful ruler. Only to find himself in a similar situation once again.
Suspicion flickered across Drigen’s eyes. He seemed to find it hard to believe. And rightly so. How could a manticore, a monster of such repute, be slain single-handedly? And why would such a formidable warrior wander homeless, scraping by on a few measly coins? That was precisely why Valian’s fame did not spread far and wide – he was a man without glory, a legend no minstrel would sing of, believed only by those who had witnessed it themselves.
And Valian made no attempt to prove himself to the boy, for the child’s belief or lack thereof held no value to him.
Merna, it seemed, had already received some form of verification, for she showed no particular reaction. She simply stated:
“So you’re quite skilled with that blade. Good. I’ll make a note of that. We’ll be moving out again shortly, so take your rest now.”
Merna stuffed the remaining bread into her mouth, then assumed a cross-legged seated posture and closed her eyes, her lips moving in what Valian knew to be the practice of spellcasting. Out here on the road? As if sensing Valian’s confusion, Econ offered an explanation.
“Merna is always striving to become an even greater mage. She never lets an opportunity to practice go to waste. It shows in her results – there was no mage in the royal guard who could match her speed in casting spells.”
Valian simply accepted this with a ‘I see’ and leaned back comfortably against a tree to rest. This being a break, he should rest.
In contrast to their hurried movements at dawn, the group was now quite at ease in the warming morning air. Valian lay half-reclined, gazing absently at the sky, while Econ meticulously wiped down his triangular shield with a cloth.
The most peculiar sight was Merna, seated on the dirt, murmuring incantations as part of her practice. Equally odd was Drigen, who had drawn a short dagger whose entire blade was etched with wavy patterns, and was fiddling with it absent-mindedly. The horses, having drunk their fill, were now grazing on the surrounding grass.
Valian pondered. Should I leave, even now? Why must I accompany this brat for a month’s journey all the way to the southern kingdom? If I did leave, where would I go? Eastward to Aria? Westward to Velladine? If I went there, I would hunt monsters and evil spirits once more. Level up. Grow ever stronger. The stronger I became, the fewer things in this world could threaten my life. The assurance of survival. And then what?
What could I possibly do in these lands? There was a time when I thought this world had somehow summoned me because it needed me in some way. Why, was that not the case? Like some sort of hero.
No, it wasn’t. I could not save this world. Putting aside the cynical view that there was no such thing as ‘saving the entire world’ to begin with, there was no crisis at hand that required salvation.
There was no transcendent evil threatening this realm, and all the beings inhabiting it, be they on two legs, three, or four, stood firmly rooted, weathering the storms. It meant this land was no different from the original world – an endless cycle of suffering and struggle.
And at the end of that line of thinking was a self who, after some thirty-odd years, had shed all traces of his former identity to become someone entirely different.
Valian rose from where he sat. He spoke in a low voice.
“Is there a chance there might be a spy among the royal guards?”
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