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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapteer 271: Extra 11 – Continuation

Chapteer 271: Extra 11 – Continuation

With‌ the sunset behind‌​‍ him, Vlad stood⁠‌ alone in a wheat field, striking‌⁠‍ the frozen ground‌‌‍ with a hoe.‍⁠

Going‌ back in time‌‍ a bit, to‍‌​ the spring days,‌⁠ Vlad had been​ learning to work‍‍​ on Ramund’s farm.‍‍

“This‌ is truly a curious sight.”

It‌‍​ was an empty‍‍ field, without even‍ seeds planted, just⁠⁠​ freshly tilled earth.‌

The​‍ only sound was‌ that of Vlad’s​​‍ hoe striking the‌‌‌ soil.

Despite‍ the persistent noise,‌‌ Vlad displayed absolute‍⁠ clumsiness—a novice struggling⁠ with farmwork.

“You⁠ traded your sword⁠​ for a simple​​ hoe, and you⁠ still manage to​ look this stupid?”‌

“…Am‍‍ I really that‍ bad?”

Vlad​‍​ scratched his cheek⁠‍ awkwardly, glancing at‌ Ramund, who stood‌ nearby making caustic‍ remarks. Vlad already‍⁠ suspected as much.‌‍

It‌‌⁠ was clear he⁠‍‍ had no aptitude‌‍ for farming.

“No⁠‌ matter how hard‍‍⁠ you try, you‌⁠ weren’t born for‍​‍ this. It’s not⁠ about adapting or‍‍⁠ learning; you simply‌⁠ lack the talent.”‌‍

Born​⁠​ and raised in‍ the city, Vlad⁠‍ had never been⁠‍​ close to the‌​⁠ earth.

Even​‌ taking that into​‌ account, his natural‌ inclination for agriculture‌ was nonexistent.

“Why‍​​ the hell are⁠ you doing this?”​​‍

With⁠‌ a sword, Vlad‌​⁠ was the Swordmaster,‌​ admired across the‌ continent.

But⁠⁠‌ with a hoe,⁠⁠‌ he was a fumbling beginner. To‍​ Ramund, the disparity​ was so stark‌​‍ he couldn’t help⁠‍​ but let out​‍ a deep sigh.⁠

“What⁠ made you suddenly‍​‌ want to take‍⁠ up farming?”

A strong smell of‍⁠‌ alcohol wafted from⁠​‌ the wineskin Ramund​‌ held. There was⁠‍‌ no need to​ ask what it​‌​ contained—it was obvious.‍

“…Are‌ you exhausted? Want⁠ to take a break?”

“It’s⁠‍‌ not that.”

Vlad​ noticed Ramund’s growing‍ frustration. He set‌ the hoe aside,⁠⁠ sat down on⁠‍‍ the ground, and‍​⁠ began to speak.‌‌

“I’ve‌ just been thinking.”⁠‍

“Thinking‍⁠ about what?”

“That​​ the only things⁠ I know how​‍ to do are‌​⁠ steal, pickpocket, or⁠ wield a sword.”⁠‌

Ramund⁠⁠ flinched slightly at‌‌‌ Vlad’s words.

As​‍​ a child, Vlad‌‍ had roamed dark​ alleyways, parentless and‍​‍ homeless.

His​​⁠ path had been‌‍‌ filled with cold,​ sharp things—a reflection​⁠‍ of the life⁠⁠‌ he had led‌​‍ just to survive.‍

“Isn’t‌ it a little‌​⁠ shameful to live⁠‍ a life that⁠​ only knows those‍‌​ things?”

Vlad⁠​⁠ felt ashamed to‍‍ be someone who‌​ only knew how​ to harm others.‌⁠

Even⁠⁠ if the world​ hailed him as‌​ a glorious Swordmaster,‌‌ he knew better.⁠​

Kihano,‍‌​ the previous Swordmaster,​ had not guided⁠‌⁠ him solely with​​ swordsmanship.

“What’s‍⁠‍ so shameful about⁠ a Swordmaster only⁠‌ knowing how to‌⁠⁠ wield a sword?”​​

“That’s‍‌ exactly the problem.”​

Ramund’s⁠‌ mildly chiding tone⁠‌ made Vlad smile‌‌ faintly.

“I‌⁠‌ don’t want to‌‍‍ always be the​⁠ Swordmaster.”

Though‍‍ the world saw⁠ him as a shining figure, to‍ others, Vlad was‌ something entirely different.⁠‌​

To⁠ some, he was⁠​‍ an irreplaceable friend.​⁠‌ To others, a savior in desperate‌‍ times.

And​ to Ramund, at⁠‍​ this moment, he‍⁠​ was merely a clumsy farmer.

“Who‌‍⁠ knows? Maybe one⁠​​ day, someone will‌​⁠ ask me about‍⁠ something other than‍ my sword.”

Kihano,‍‌‌ the Swordmaster, had‍⁠ been more than‍ just that. Vlad⁠‍‌ remembered most vividly⁠​ the nameless voice⁠‍ that had guided‌‌‍ him onto the‍​⁠ right path.

Perhaps​‌ the most valuable​‍​ thing Vlad had‍⁠‌ learned from Kihano‍‌ wasn’t his flawless​⁠‌ swordsmanship, but his​ approach to life.‌‍

“That’s⁠⁠‍ why I’m learning.‌‍ So I’ll have​‌‌ something to say⁠‍​ if someone asks‍‍ me in the‍ future.”

Vlad‌‍ also wanted to⁠​⁠ emulate that side⁠​‍ of Kihano. Not​‌‌ as an emperor‌ or knight, but‍ as the adult‍⁠ who had guided​ him.

That’s‍ why Vlad was‌‌ now trying to⁠ gather the experiences‍‍ he had overlooked,‍ broadening his understanding​ of the world.‌‍

***⁠‍

The‍​ succession ceremony was‌‍​ grand.

Knights‍ clad in gleaming⁠⁠ armor stood in‌​‍ formation, and dignitaries⁠⁠‍ from across the​​ continent offered their⁠‌⁠ congratulations.

It‍​ was perhaps the​​​ most magnificent event‌ ever held in‌​‌ the North. Observing⁠‌⁠ it, Vlad felt‌ a strange sense‍‌​ of euphoria he​ couldn’t quite put​​​ into words.

“I’ve​‌‍ never seen so‍ many nobles gathered‌‌ in one place‍​ before.”

“…Oh,‍ yes?”

“This‌‍‍ is only my​‍ second time. The‌⁠ first was when⁠ I received my‍⁠‌ knighthood, and now⁠⁠ this.”

Seeing‌ Vlad slightly excited,​⁠‍ Jager began to⁠‍ tense up.

Vlad’s⁠‍ behavior was a warning sign to‍‌⁠ someone who knew‍​ him well.

Jager,⁠‍ recalling the trouble​ Vlad had caused‍ as a squire,​ knew this was‍ the time to‌ be most vigilant.⁠​

“…But‌⁠‌ why is Baroness​ Alicia seated over​ there?”

The​​ event, meticulously planned‍ by the Bayezid‌ family, was drawing​ attention from across‌‌ the continent.

The⁠ seating arrangement was‌ carefully organized by‌​ rank and title.‌‍​ Yet Vlad couldn’t‌⁠‌ help but feel‌ curious seeing Alicia⁠⁠‍ seated so close​⁠ to Zemina.

“You​ seem anxious.”

“I’m⁠ not.”

“Please,‍​​ try to stay⁠⁠ calm.”

“I’ve​⁠‍ never felt better.”⁠‌‍

“…”⁠​​

But‌‍⁠ that wasn’t true.‍‌ Even his breathing‌⁠ carried a trace‌ of tension.

Each‍ time the two‍⁠ women in front‍​⁠ of him whispered‌ to each other,‌ the rapid beating‍ of his heart​​ seemed to echo‌​ loudly in Jager’s⁠‌ ears.

“Now‍​ entering, Lord Rutiger⁠⁠⁠ Bayezid!”

At⁠​‍ the sound of⁠ the steward’s announcement,‌‌‍ the hall doors‌⁠‍ began to open.‌

The⁠‌​ doors, designed to​⁠⁠ resemble Sturma’s fortified​ walls, were massive⁠ and imposing.

As‌‍‍ they swung open,‌‍ the chatter in⁠‍ the hall died‍‌⁠ down into absolute⁠‍ silence.

“…”⁠‌⁠

A tall man with‌ broad shoulders, clad⁠⁠‍ in an ornate​ ceremonial armor, entered​ with steady steps.‌

It​‌ was Rutiger, looking​ far more solemn⁠ than usual.

“He​‌‌ looks different.”

“It’s⁠‌‌ natural.”

At‍​⁠ the highest point‍ of the hall,‍⁠​ Peter Bayezid, the​ current head of​ the family, made‌ a gesture with‌‌ his hand.

It⁠‌‌ was the signal‍ to commence the​‍​ succession ceremony.

“He’s‌⁠ no longer the​‍‌ Rutiger you knew.‍ From now on,⁠ he will be‍‌ Count Bayezid.”

Bearing​​ the weight of⁠⁠ his family’s name⁠‌‌ on his shoulders‌‍ and the burden‍ of their lands⁠ on his back,⁠‍ Rutiger could no⁠​‌ longer be who​ he once was.‌‌​

With‍ every step forward,​⁠ carrying the responsibilities‍‌ of his new⁠ role, Vlad’s gaze​ grew more complex.⁠⁠

—Please,‍‍​ come forward, son​ of Bayezid.

With‍‌​ each step Rutiger‌ took ascending the‌‍‍ stairs, he drew⁠ closer to Peter.⁠‌ At the same⁠⁠ time, Peter Bayezid​‍⁠ slowly rose from​ his seat.

Holding‌ the lord’s mantle‌ in his left‍‌ hand and the⁠‌⁠ ceremonial sword in‍ his right, Peter‌‍‌ opened his arms​​​ as if to‍‌‍ say, “Come.” His⁠‌‍ gaze remained fixed‍‍‌ on his son‌⁠‍ as he ascended‌​​ toward him.

When‌‍‍ Rutiger reached the‌​⁠ highest point, Peter,⁠​‌ holding both the​​‍ mantle and sword,​⁠‌ extended them toward​‌ him.

—Wear‌‌⁠ this mantle.

Finally,​ Rutiger reached the‍‌ pinnacle of Bayezid,‍‌​ and in front‌⁠‌ of him, Peter​⁠‌ carefully draped the⁠⁠‍ mantle over his​‍‍ shoulders.

—This⁠⁠ mantle symbolizes duty.‍⁠‍ Do not forget​ that you now⁠‌​ bear the responsibility‍ for countless lives‍⁠ who depend on‌‍ you.

A lord is not​ just someone who⁠‍ rules over land,​ but one who‌‌​ protects their people.‍⁠ That immense responsibility‌‍‍ now weighed heavily‌​ on Rutiger’s shoulders.​​

—Raise​​ your sword.

Solemnly,⁠‌ Rutiger reached for‌‍‍ the object Peter​ offered him: the‌‌ sword of the⁠ Bayezid family.

The⁠⁠ sword, passed down‍⁠‌ through generations, was⁠ a reminder that​ Rutiger must now‌ wield it not​​‌ for his personal‍ honor, but for⁠ that of his‍⁠​ family.

—This‌​ sword symbolizes your‌⁠‌ responsibility as the‌⁠ head of the‍ family. From this‌‍⁠ moment on, you‌‍⁠ will not wield⁠​⁠ this blade for⁠‍ your own honor‍‍ but for the⁠‌​ honor of the⁠⁠ Bayezid name.

He​⁠ was no longer‌ merely Rutiger the⁠⁠ knight. From this‌‌‍ moment, he would‌‍​ live as the⁠⁠ heir and representative‍ of the Bayezid⁠‌​ family.

As‍ the ceremony concluded,‍​⁠ Peter Bayezid addressed⁠ those gathered with‌ a powerful voice.‌⁠​

—I,​⁠ Peter Bayezid, declare​⁠ before all present‍⁠ that Rutiger Bayezid⁠ is the new⁠‌ head of the‍⁠‌ family.

Having‍ handed over everything‍⁠‌ he needed to,​⁠ Peter raised his⁠‍​ voice, addressing the‍ hall filled with‌⁠ guests.

—Rutiger​⁠ Bayezid has assumed‌‍ the title of​⁠⁠ head of the⁠⁠ family!

Until‌ then, the only‍‌‍ sound in the‍‌ vast hall had​‌ been Peter’s voice‍ speaking to his​ son. But as​‍ soon as he​ finished, thunderous applause‍‍ erupted, threatening to‌‌ shake the very⁠⁠‍ walls.

Clap,‍⁠ clap, clap, clap—!​​‌

The​⁠​ cheers and applause‌​ of those present⁠‌‌ filled the space,‍‍ showing no sign‍⁠ of abating anytime​ soon.

It⁠‍⁠ was a sound‌ of celebration, a tribute to the‌‌​ Bayezid dynasty, which​​ had endured even​ in the darkest‌ times when the​‍‌ mightiest and oldest‍‌​ dragon had brought⁠⁠​ chaos.

Yet‌ amid the deafening‍‌ ovation, Vlad caught⁠ a faint voice‌⁠ that seemed to‌ come from above.‌​

“…You’ve‌‌⁠ done well.”

It⁠⁠ was a barely​‍ audible whisper, perceptible​​⁠ only to someone⁠‌⁠ like Vlad, whose​ dragon blood granted​​​ him acute senses.‌​‍

The‌‌ voice came from‌​ Peter, who embraced​​ his son with‍​​ a blend of‌⁠ solemnity and warmth.​

“Truly,​​ you’ve done well‍ to make it‍‌‌ this far.”

Having​​ relinquished the mantle⁠​ of leadership and⁠‌ the family sword,‍‌ Peter was no​ longer a leader⁠‌ but fully a father. As he‌⁠​ held Rutiger close,‍ he whispered with⁠ genuine affection:

“Thank‌ you for all‌ your effort to​‌‌ reach this place.”⁠⁠

***​‍

“That⁠‍‌ was truly a moving spectacle.”

The‍ night following the⁠ succession ceremony, an⁠‍⁠ elegant banquet was​​​ being held at‌ the Bayezid mansion.‍​​

However,‍‍ while the guests‌⁠‍ laughed and mingled,⁠‍‌ Vlad walked through⁠‌⁠ a dark, empty​ hallway, far removed​‌ from the nobles​‍ and their revelry.⁠

“What‌​‍ does it feel‌ like to inherit​ something? I can’t‍ even imagine.”

He​ was accompanied by‌​‍ Jager, who walked⁠ ahead of him.‍​⁠

Both​‌​ carried bottles of‍​‌ liquor in their‍⁠ hands as they‌ made their way⁠ to what had⁠​​ once been Joseph’s‌‌ office.

“Well,‍‍ I suppose inheriting‍⁠ something from Dragulia‌‌ would have been​‌⁠ impressive. Too bad⁠⁠‌ you missed out‌ on that.”

“That’s‌‌ not what I mean.”

Jager’s‍​​ sudden mention of‌ Dragulia caused Vlad’s​​ expression to stiffen​⁠ awkwardly.

“I‌ mean something like…‍ what a father‌‌ passes down to‍​​ his son.”

It‍ was difficult to‍ put into words,⁠‍⁠ and Vlad gestured‍​⁠ clumsily in an​ attempt to explain.⁠ Jager, however, didn’t‌‍ even glance back.​

“That’s⁠ not something everyone‍ gets to experience,‍‍ even if their⁠⁠‍ parents are alive.‍ In this world,⁠ if you don’t⁠​ inherit debts, you’re​ already lucky.”

“Really?”⁠⁠

“And​‌ if you want‌ to know how⁠ it feels, just​​ make sure someone⁠⁠ inherits something from​​​ you.”

Creak—‌‍

The‌⁠‍ door handle emitted⁠ a harsh, grating⁠ sound as it‌ turned, rusty from‌‍ years of disuse.​‍​

“You​ can’t inherit something,⁠‍ but you can​ leave something behind‌⁠⁠ for others to⁠ inherit.”

Creeeeak—‌

Though⁠ he expected the‍⁠‌ office to be​ shrouded in darkness,​ the room was​‍⁠ bathed in the​ soft, bluish glow‍‌ of moonlight.

Yet‌⁠‍ despite the light,‍‌‍ the space felt‍ entirely different from‍‍⁠ how Vlad remembered‍ it.

“…Nothing‌ here has changed.”‍

“Nothing⁠ has changed, you‍⁠ say, but all⁠ the furniture is​ covered with cloth.”⁠⁠

The​ office, now devoid​ of its owner,⁠‌‍ had become a cold, dust-laden space.‌

However,‍ with these two⁠ unexpected visitors, the​‍‍ room seemed to‍ regain a faint⁠​ warmth from the​ past.

“Are‌​ we going to​⁠​ drink here?”

“…Yes.⁠​⁠ Originally, I planned⁠​ to do it‍‍‌ alone.”

Though​ it wasn’t planned,​‍⁠ Vlad and Jager‌ naturally took up​‍​ the positions they‌​​ used to occupy.‌‌

Vlad⁠ sat across from‍⁠ the guest table,‍‌⁠ and Jager stood⁠ by Joseph’s desk,​ just as he‌‍⁠ always had.

Jager​​ couldn’t help but​‍ chuckle, watching Vlad⁠⁠ behave as if‌ it were the​​​ old days.

“A⁠‍ boy who didn’t⁠‍​ even know how​ to ride a horse.”

“It’s‍‍⁠ because I didn’t‌⁠‍ know I was⁠ a dragon.”

“A‍ brat who only​ knew how to‌⁠⁠ brawl with the⁠ other squires and‌ get into trouble.”‍‍

“Well,​‌‌ that was because…”‌

Reminiscing‌‌​ about the past,‌ Jager shook his​‍‍ head in amusement‍​ while Vlad fumbled‌⁠ to justify himself.​‍‍

Perhaps‌ because he had⁠⁠ known Vlad since‍‌‍ he was a boy, Jager still⁠‍⁠ found it hard‌​ to believe how‍​ much he had⁠‌ grown.

“From​ that troublesome kid⁠‍‍ to becoming a Swordmaster, and yet‍‍ you still have‌​‌ so much to⁠‍​ envy?”

“…”‍

“Here,​‍ take this.”

“Liquor?”⁠‌​

“It’s⁠‌ expensive. Over fifty⁠⁠‍ years old.”

The​​ bottle Jager handed​⁠​ to Vlad was​ one he had​ been saving for‌⁠​ years.

It‍⁠‍ was a special‌‌‍ bottle that had‌⁠‍ belonged to his‍⁠ father, back when​ Jager had first⁠‌⁠ come to Bayezid​⁠ from the Oskar​ family.

“Are‌‌‍ you sure it’s‍‍ alright to give‌​⁠ me something so​‍⁠ valuable?”

“You‍ said you wanted​‍ to inherit something,⁠​‌ didn’t you?”

“Even⁠ so…”

“Enough​‌ already. Just open​‌‌ the bottle.”

Jager‍‍⁠ pulled a cloth​‍‌ off a piece⁠ of furniture and⁠​‍ retrieved some glasses,‌ holding them out‍⁠ to Vlad.

It​ was a clear‍‌‍ invitation to pour⁠ the liquor, but‌ Vlad, with a sly smile, tucked‌‍​ the bottle behind⁠⁠ his back.

“…This‌‌ liquor is too⁠‍⁠ valuable to drink⁠ right now.”

“Then⁠​‍ give the bottle​ back.”

“How​ about we start‍‌ with the one​​ I brought?”

“…I’ve​​​ been waiting twenty‌‌ years to drink​‍‍ that.”

Jager⁠​⁠ sighed in defeat⁠​‍ as Vlad poured‌ a different liquor​ he had brought‌​ along.

“By‌‍ the way, Jager,⁠ do you know​‌⁠ how to fish?”‌‌

“Fish?‌ Why are you‍​‌ asking that out‌⁠ of nowhere?”

“I‌ thought it might‍​​ be nice to⁠​​ learn.”

Jager,‍⁠ gazing at the⁠‌‌ moonlight streaming through‌⁠ the window, let‌ out a small​ sigh.

“If⁠ you want to⁠‌​ learn something basic,​ come back in⁠ winter.”

Vlad​ smiled as he​‌⁠ watched Jager’s back.⁠ He had spoken⁠ about inheritance, but​‌‍ what he truly‍ desired was to‌​ continue the connections⁠ forged in his⁠⁠‌ life.

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