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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapteer 272: Extra 12 – The child and the woman

Chapteer 272: Extra 12 – The child and the woman

The⁠‍​ red carpet that‍‍ adorned the hallways‍‍ had been removed.⁠‌

Only​​‍ a few withered‌‌ flower petals remained​‌ on the decorations,​​‌ along with an‍‍ empty pitcher.

The​ Bayezid mansion, which‌‍⁠ had been the‍​‍ setting for a splendid celebration, was‌‌ now calm.

The​​​ guests had left,​‍‍ and the only‌‍‍ thing breaking the​‌​ silence was the​​ singing of the‍‍ birds.

Vlad​ walked alone through‍​ that tranquil space.‍

“…”‌​

He⁠ wore a light​‌ cloak, as if​​ he were already​‍‍ prepared to leave.‌

Early‌⁠ that morning, as‌ the bluish colors‌‌‌ of dawn stretched​⁠ across the sky,‌‌ Vlad made his‍‌ way to the‍‍ room where the‌‌ lady of the⁠‍ house, Oksana Bayezid,‍ was.

“Are‌‍ you feeling better?”⁠⁠‌

Though​ the sun had‍ yet to rise,‌ Oksana was already‌ awake.

Or​‍ perhaps, due to‌‌‍ her persistent cough,‍‍‌ she hadn’t been⁠‌⁠ able to sleep‌⁠​ all night. Nevertheless,​⁠⁠ she greeted Vlad‍⁠⁠ with the same⁠‍⁠ warm smile as​​ always.

“…Are‌ you leaving already?”‌

Although‍⁠⁠ she could have​⁠‌ remained lying down,​​ Oksana made an​‌‍ effort to sit‍ up with the‌⁠​ help of a few cushions.

She​‌⁠ didn’t want Vlad,‍‍‍ who was about​⁠⁠ to leave, to‌ worry unnecessarily.

“Yes.⁠‌​ I think it’s‌‌ time to return.”‌‌

However,‌​ she couldn’t entirely⁠ hide the illness⁠ that afflicted her.‌‌

Oksana’s‍⁠‍ lips, pale as‌ if covered in​⁠ wax, left Vlad‌‍ with a strained⁠⁠⁠ smile.

“That’s‍‍​ the right choice.​‌‌ If you’re going⁠ to leave, it’s‌‍ best to do‌‍ it early. You‌ know how unpredictable⁠‌ the northern weather‌⁠ is.”

The‌​ rays of the​ morning sun began⁠‍​ to filter through‍ the window, bathing‌‍ Oksana’s bed in‌⁠ a warm orange‍ glow, similar to​‌⁠ the one Vlad​ had seen the‍​ day he met⁠⁠​ her.

“…”‍‍

Under‌⁠​ that light, Oksana’s⁠‍⁠ figure resembled a painting.

It⁠⁠‍ wasn’t ostentatious or⁠⁠ dazzling, but it‌ offered the serenity‌ of a picture‌​​ one would want⁠‌ to gaze upon​‌ every day.

“It​ looks like the⁠ sun is rising.‍ You’d better hurry.”​

That⁠‍‌ painting, which he‌​ had always wanted​‌⁠ to keep, was⁠ now telling him​​ it was time⁠ to leave.

Oksana​​ caressed the small⁠‌‍ package she had‌‌‍ placed beside her⁠‍⁠ bed.

“Are​‌⁠ you wearing clothes​⁠‌ suited for the⁠⁠‍ season now?”

Vlad​​ had been a child who wore⁠‌ winter clothes even⁠‌⁠ in the height⁠ of summer.

Huddled‌‌‌ up as if​ he still felt‍ cold beneath the⁠ warm summer breezes.‍⁠‌

“The​ clothes that aren’t‍⁠ seen are the⁠​ most important. True⁠ elegance is shown‍​ in the least‌​ visible details.”

“…”‌‌

Inside‌ the package that​​ Oksana held, there‌‌ were surely undergarments⁠ and socks for⁠ Vlad.

A seemingly trivial gift,‌ but one that‍ only a mother​ could prepare with⁠ such attention to‍​​ detail.

“That‍⁠‍ girl is very​‍‍ pretty. What was⁠ her name? Zemina?‍‌‌ When you were‍‍ together, you looked‌‍‍ very good.”

“Thank‍ you.”

“…”⁠

They​‍‍ had already said‌​​ everything they needed​​ to say.

It⁠ was time to​‍‍ go.

Oksana‌ nodded silently to‍ her last guest,⁠ but Vlad still​ couldn’t take the⁠​​ first step toward‌ the door.

“…I‍‍‌ plan to come‌ back in winter.”‌⁠

“Huh?”​‍

He​‍​ turned back toward​ Oksana, speaking somewhat​ awkwardly, as if‍ it were difficult​‍ to reopen a closed conversation.

“I​‌ want to learn⁠ how to fish.‌⁠​ I’ve heard that‍​ ice fishing can⁠‍‌ only be done⁠‍​ in winter.”

“Fishing?”‍‌

Though⁠ the topic had​ nothing to do​ with what they‌ had just been​⁠‍ discussing, Vlad was⁠‍ trying to keep‌​​ it going.

Because​​‌ he wanted to​​ see Oksana move,‌ smile.

Because​‍‍ he knew he‌ would miss her‍⁠ more if she⁠ remained still, like⁠​ a lifeless painting.‍‌

“It’s‌ something that, if‍ one had a father, they would​ learn naturally. I don’t know anything‍⁠ about those things,⁠⁠ so lately, I’ve⁠‍ been trying to‌‍ learn.”

“…”⁠

“Last⁠ time, Lord Ramund‌​ taught me how‌ to farm the​​‍ land, and well…”‌‌

Vlad’s⁠⁠ world was diverse.‌⁠

The‍​‌ boy who once‌ dreamed of becoming⁠⁠⁠ the perfect dragon‍ now sought to⁠ become a star⁠​‍ that radiated light.​​‌

A young man who‍ didn’t want to‍‌‍ be defined solely​⁠⁠ by a title.⁠

“Even​ so, there are​ many things I don’t understand.”

To‌‍​ some, he was⁠​ the dragon born​⁠ of perfection.

To‌‍ others, the master‌ swordsman who wielded​ a brilliant blade.⁠

But​ before Oksana, he‌⁠ was just an​ uncertain child, without‍‍ answers.

And‍⁠ that child, with⁠⁠ a shy gaze,‍⁠ now looked at​​⁠ Oksana.

“So,‍‌⁠ if I have‌ more questions, can‌ I come to​​‌ ask you?”

Vlad‌⁠​ held the package⁠​​ against his chest,⁠‍‍ shrinking slightly, without‍​ looking out of‍⁠ place at all.​‍‍

At​‍‍ least, not to‌‌ Oksana.

A child who had⁠ grown up wild,‌⁠ like an orchid‌‍‌ left uncared for.‍‌​

Looking​‍‌ at him, Oksana,​ whose world was‌ painted in muted⁠ tones, felt a faint hint of​‍⁠ color.

“…Of‌‍ course.”

A child without a mother and a mother who had‌ lost her son‍​ looked at each⁠ other.

Though‍‌ the broken pieces‍‌‌ of their hearts‍‌‌ didn’t fit perfectly,‌ together they could‍⁠‌ withstand the blowing‌‍⁠ wind.

“Come‌​​ back whenever you‍⁠‍ want. I’ll be‍ waiting for you.”⁠​‌

At​ those words, the⁠ young man before‌‌ her began to‍⁠⁠ smile.

He⁠⁠ no longer wore‍ the old winter‍ coat he once​ had, but the‍​ summer clothes Oksana‌‍‌ had given him.‌​

***​⁠

“Thank‌ you for staying⁠⁠​ until the end.”‌⁠

Although‌ it was the‍ host’s duty to⁠‌ see off the‍⁠ guests, reaching the‍‌‌ main door was⁠‍‍ unusual.

However,‍​ behind Vlad, who‌‌‍ was about to‌‍ leave, stood Rutiger,‍⁠ now the head⁠ of the Bayezid⁠​‍ family, and his‌ knights, all ready​⁠ to bid him⁠⁠ farewell.

“Thanks⁠ to you, my‍ succession ceremony was​⁠​ splendid. It will‍ likely go down‍‌ as the most‍​⁠ magnificent in our‌ family’s history.”

“Thank⁠‌ you for saying‌ that.”

Behind‌‌ Rutiger, some of‌ Vlad’s familiar knights​ waved to him:⁠ Cade, Maxim, and⁠ those who had​‌‌ fought alongside him⁠ against the Deathsworm​ and Lindworm.

“So,‌​ you’re returning to⁠‌‍ Soara.”

“That’s‍​​ right.”

“And​​​ what will you⁠​‌ do afterward? Will⁠​‌ you let yourself‍‌‍ get dragged from‌​‍ place to place‍‌ again, like before?”‌‌

Prestige​ always demands a price.

And‍‌ that price was‌​​ something that Vlad,​‍ as a master⁠‍‌ swordsman, had to​‍‍ pay.

But‌ now Vlad shook​ his head in​ silent denial in​⁠ response to Rutiger’s‌⁠ question.

“No,‌‌ this time I plan to rest‌​ a bit.”

With​‍ those words, Vlad‍ looked at the⁠‌ carriage beside him.​⁠⁠

Inside,‍‍ Zemina was quietly‌‍​ hiding, afraid someone⁠⁠ might speak to‌‌‍ her.

“…I⁠‌ suppose it’s time⁠⁠ for you to‌ take a break.”⁠​

Rutiger‌​⁠ smiled broadly, understanding​​‌ perfectly what Vlad​ was saying.

“I‍‍ think it’s better⁠‌ if I leave‍‌⁠ now.”

“Yes,​ go.”

Rutiger‍​‍ nodded as he⁠ watched Vlad mount‍ Noir’s back with‍ a brief salute.‍⁠

The⁠ squire of the⁠ Master of the‍‌ Sword, who shrugged‍‍​ his shoulders while‍⁠ bidding farewell to⁠ the knights, pulled‍‍ the reins, and‍ soon the gates​ of Sturma began‍ to open.

“…Today,‍ the weather is‍‍⁠ beautiful.”

As⁠‌‌ the gates opened,⁠‍‍ Rutiger watched the‌‍ morning light fill‌‌‍ the horizon.

Vlad’s‍ shadow followed the‍⁠ rising east toward‌ the green meadows.⁠

“Come​⁠ back whenever you‍ want, Vlad. You⁠‌‍ will always be‌‍ welcome as Bayezid’s‍‍ greatest dragon slayer.”​⁠⁠

Though‍‌‍ he didn’t say‍ it to be‍ heard, Vlad raised‍⁠ a hand in⁠​ farewell.

He‌ didn’t look back,‌ but in that​‌⁠ gesture, one could‍⁠ feel both gratitude⁠‌ and the promise‍ of return.

***​‌

From‍ Sturma to Soara.‌‌

The⁠⁠ carriage headed toward‍​ Soara, leaving Sturma⁠‌​ behind. As it‌ traversed the summer⁠​⁠ meadows, the sunset⁠‌‌ began to color​ the horizon around​ them.

“Captain,‌​‌ it looks like​ we’ll have to​ camp outdoors.”

“That’s⁠ fine.”

Crossing‍⁠​ the vast northern‌ plains in a single day to​ reach a village‌ was an impossible‌ task.

That’s‌ why both Vlad⁠ and Zemina nodded⁠⁠​ at Goethe’s words,‌⁠⁠ as if it⁠ were the most‍ natural thing in⁠⁠ the world.

“The‍⁠​ sun sets quickly‍ on the prairie.‌​⁠ It seems to​​ get dark faster​ than in Soara,”​‍‍ Zemina said as‍ she gathered some‌​⁠ nearby dry branches.‌

“The⁠⁠ stars will come⁠ out soon.”

In‌‍ the narrow alleys‌ of Soara, the‌ modest buildings always‌‍ blocked the sky.​

The‍‌ glow of the​ lamps meant to⁠‍ attract customers devoured⁠ the stars, and‍ the night sky‍‌​ always appeared fragmented​⁠⁠ and weak.

Finding‌‌ stars in that​⁠⁠ broken sky was⁠ a difficult task.‍⁠‌

“Wow.”‌⁠‍

But​ now, the night‍‌ sky of the‌​⁠ prairie stretched out‌‌ before Zemina’s eyes,‍‌ filled with so​​‍ many twinkling stars​‌ that it was​​ hard to believe‌ they had always⁠‌ been there.

Fascinated⁠⁠ by their radiance,​⁠ she couldn’t bring​ herself to lower​ her gaze.

“Zemina.”‌‍

“Huh?”⁠

“Come​ here for a moment.”

Lost​ in her own‍‍‍ world, Zemina turned‌​⁠ her head when​‍ she heard Vlad’s​‌‌ voice.

“Why?”​

The⁠ campfire that Goethe​​⁠ had lit crackled‌‌ softly.

Following⁠‍ the sound, Zemina​ saw Vlad holding‍‍‍ Noir’s reins.

“He⁠‌‍ wants to say‍​ goodbye.”

“Huh?”⁠

“Noir‍​ wants to say‍ goodbye before he‌ leaves.”

He‌‌​ was a black‍‌⁠ horse that blended‌⁠ perfectly with the‍ starry sky that‌ night.

So⁠‌‍ much so that⁠‍​ it seemed he‍‌​ might dissolve into⁠​⁠ the distant stars‍⁠ as he approached​ Zemina.

“Say​ goodbye? What does​‌‌ that mean?”

Zemina‍‍ asked as she​ stroked Noir, who‌‍‍ was nuzzling her⁠⁠ gently.

But⁠⁠ Vlad didn’t answer.​ Instead, he nodded‍‌⁠ toward a distant‌⁠ hill.

“It​ means it’s time​‌‌ for Noir to​‍⁠ return.”

On‍‍ the hill illuminated​ by the stars,⁠⁠ a herd of⁠⁠​ wild horses could‌⁠⁠ be seen, as‌​‍ if they were‌‍ waiting for his​⁠‌ return.

“You’re​ letting him go?‍⁠ Just like that?”‍

“Now‌‌ is the right​ time.”

Zemina‌​ felt confused by⁠‌​ the sudden farewell,‌ but Vlad, without‍‌ hesitation, began to​⁠‌ remove Noir’s harness.‍⁠

He‍ took off the⁠ saddle, the bridle‍‍ around his face,‍⁠ and unloaded the​⁠‍ luggage he had⁠⁠ been carrying.

“Thank⁠⁠​ you for everything.”‌‌

And‍‍ so, Vlad said‌​⁠ goodbye to the‌‍‍ child of the⁠‍ prairies, who had​⁠​ now returned to⁠‌​ his original form.‌

“Are⁠​‍ you done saying‌‍⁠ goodbye?”

“Huh?​‌⁠ Yes…”

“Then,‌ go now.”

At⁠ the edge of⁠ the world where‌ their paths had⁠ briefly intersected, they⁠‍ had extended a little further.

However,‍ Noir’s world was‌‍‌ on the prairie,‌⁠‍ while Vlad’s was⁠ in the city.‍ It was time​⁠ to part ways.⁠​

“Don’t‍‍ look back.”

Noir​‍‌ seemed to want‍‌ to turn around‍‌​ again and again,‍‌‌ but Vlad just​​ crossed his arms⁠⁠‍ and watched him.⁠

Goodbyes⁠‌​ are better when‌ they are simple.​

Seeing‍‍ Vlad apply that‌ philosophy, Noir neighed⁠⁠‌ softly, as if⁠‌ bidding farewell.

“…There​​​ he goes.”

At‍ first, his steps​ were hesitant, but‌⁠ the closer he⁠⁠⁠ got to the‌‍‌ hill, the longer‍⁠ his strides became.⁠

Watching⁠​ the black horse‍‌‍ run toward the⁠⁠ starry sky, Zemina‍ began to shed​‌ tears.

“Is​ it because he‍⁠ resembles his owner?‍‌⁠ He doesn’t look​ back even once.”‌⁠

Feeling​⁠ the emptiness of⁠ the farewell, Zemina⁠ instinctively moved closer‍‌ to Vlad.

“Don’t‍‌ be so sad.”‍

Together,​‍ they watched Noir‌​​ disappear into the‍‍ distance. The image‍​ of the two​‌​ of them, side‌ by side, was‌ identical to that‍⁠ of the children​‌ who used to⁠⁠ stand in front⁠​‍ of the smithy.‍⁠

“It’s‌​ not like we’ll‌ be apart forever.”​⁠

Vlad⁠⁠⁠ took a piece​ of paper from‌ his coat as‍ he watched Noir​⁠‍ leave.

It​ was the drawing‌ the Priestess of‍‌ the World Tree‌‌​ had given them,​ one that Zemina‍ immediately recognized.

“Now​ that I look​‌‍ at it, this⁠ sunflower… Its color‌‌‍ resembles your hair.”⁠⁠⁠

“Really?”⁠‌

In‌⁠ the childish drawing,⁠‍‍ there was a blond man and⁠​ a red-haired girl.⁠⁠⁠ Between them was‍ a small, smiling‌‍ flower. Why would​⁠‌ someone draw a smiling face on​‍ that flower?

“Thank‌‍ you, Zemina.”

“Huh?”⁠‍‍

Vlad​‍​ wrapped an arm‍​ around Zemina’s shoulders,‌⁠ as if the​ night wind felt‍ cold.

Surprised‍‍‍ by the sudden​‌‍ gesture, Zemina looked​​‍ at him, but⁠‍ Vlad continued watching‍‌ the sky where⁠‍ Noir had vanished.​‌

Just‍ like that time,‍‌‍ when he looked​​​ at the undecorated​​ sword hanging in‍‌​ the smithy.

“For‍ believing in me⁠​‌ back then.”

The​‌ winter in which​⁠‌ he was born,‌​ the spring in‌ which he said​ goodbye… And now,‌⁠​ the summer in‌​‍ which he awaited‍‌ new encounters.

The‍⁠ journey of that​⁠ boy began with⁠‍‍ the sword the‍ red-haired girl had​ given him.

“Let’s‍ go back to​ Soara together.”

Their⁠ feet were still‌‌ in the mud,‍‍ but they gazed‌⁠‌ at the stars‍ together.

Now,‌‌‍ they looked at‍‍⁠ each other as‍ a shooting star‌‍‍ streaked across the⁠ prairie sky.

Even⁠​‌ if we are​ not in the‌​​ highest sky.

Even⁠ if we fall​ to a place‍‍ where no one‌ sees us, If​‍ we wish to‌ shine, we can⁠‌ recognize each other.⁠‌

Because​ we are stars.‌

Because⁠‍ we can all⁠​⁠ shine like stars.⁠​‌

So⁠​ until we meet‍‌⁠ again, goodbye.

Star-Embracing‌ Swordmaster (Complete).

***‍‌

Early‌‌⁠ in the morning‌‌⁠ when everyone was‍‍ deeply asleep.

In⁠​ the depths of⁠⁠ the night, when‍ even the stars​​ in the sky​ were slumbering,

Under‍ that night sky,​ a voice tried‌​ to wake a man who slept‍⁠‌ without a care‍‍ in the world.⁠‌

“…Sir…⁠‌ Sir.”

It⁠⁠‍ was the voice‌‍ of a child,‍ a young voice⁠ that had not​​‍ yet reached puberty.​⁠

For​​ that reason, it⁠‍​ didn’t have enough​​ strength to wake⁠​ the man from⁠⁠​ his deep sleep.⁠‍‌

“Ow!⁠ That hurt!”

“I‍ said, wake up!”⁠

Was⁠‌‍ this what a bee sting felt​‌ like? A sharp‌​‍ pain jolted the⁠‌ man awake, and‌​ with his eyes‍‌ still unfocused, he‌ looked around.

“What’s‌‌​ going on? What’s​ happening?”

“Shhh!”⁠​

The‍‍ child motioned for​ him to be‍ quiet and glanced​ outside the stable,​ holding a small⁠ frog in his​​‍ hands.

“I’ve‍⁠ been looking everywhere‌​⁠ for you! Why‍⁠ are you sleeping‌ in a stable​ when there are⁠⁠‌ decent rooms?”

“…This⁠‍​ is a stable?”⁠‌‌

The‌‍ man, having no​‌ idea where he‍‍‍ had been sleeping,‌‍ looked utterly confused.‌‌‌

If‌‌‌ not for his⁠ good looks, his‍‍‌ expression would have‍​ been sigh-worthy.

“That’s⁠‌ why it felt‍‍ so comfortable.”

Unlike‍ the worried child,⁠⁠‌ the still-drowsy man‍‌ began to gather‍⁠ the straw around‍​ him to lie​ down again, hunching‍‍ his shoulders as​‍‍ if he were‌‌ cold.

Even‌ the frog in⁠‌⁠ the child’s hands⁠​ puffed out its⁠‍ cheeks as if‌‌ it couldn’t believe‌‌ what it was​ seeing.

“This‌ is no time​⁠‌ for sleeping! We‍ have to escape‍‍ right now!”

“…What​‍ are you saying?‌​ Can’t we talk‌​​ about this later?”​⁠​

The‍ smell of alcohol⁠​ still lingered around‌⁠ him as he⁠⁠ lay down again.​​

Frustrated,​​ the child pounded⁠⁠ his chest desperately​ but soon held⁠​⁠ his breath upon​ noticing the commotion‌ around them.

“We‍ know you’re hiding‍ here!”

“Come‌‍‍ out now!”

“Hmm?”⁠‌​

The‌ voices were clearly‍ aggressive, and the​⁠⁠ sound of doors​ being kicked down‌‌​ signaled their determination‌ to find someone.⁠‌​

Unlike‌ the child, the‌ man only blinked,⁠ confused by the⁠ hostile tone.

“Kihano⁠ Frausen! You damned‌​⁠ libertine!”

“Huh?”​‍​

The‌‌​ smell of oil-soaked‍ torches filled the‌‌‌ air, and the‌​‍ furious barking of⁠⁠⁠ hunting dogs echoed‌‍‍ around them.

But‍⁠ what truly confused‌‍‌ the man was‍‌⁠ hearing the word‌‍ “libertine” alongside his‌⁠‌ name.

Crash!‌

Finally⁠ understanding the gravity​ of the situation,‍ the man hurriedly​‌‌ stood up, but​ it was already‍ too late to​‍ prepare.

“There‍‌‍ you are.”

A bald man with⁠ a malicious grin‌ and yellowed teeth​ found him just⁠⁠ as he was‌⁠⁠ getting up and​⁠ adjusting his clothes.⁠⁠⁠

“I⁠​ found you, Kihano⁠‌ Frausen.”

The⁠​‍ man, still bewildered,​⁠‍ looked wide-eyed, while⁠‍⁠ the child at‌ his side seemed‌⁠⁠ on the verge‍‍ of tears. Even‌‌​ the frog with​ the hat let⁠‍‍ out a resigned‌‍⁠ sigh.

“…May‍⁠⁠ I ask why​‌‌ you’re looking for⁠‌​ me?”

This‌ is a story​ from long ago.​

A story that is‍‍ neither legendary nor​‍​ grand.

Yet​ this story, the‌ beginning of it‍‌ all, started here,‍ in the stable‍​⁠ of a nameless,⁠​‍ signless inn.

T/N:​⁠

This⁠​⁠ chapter was peak‍‌⁠ from here will​​‍ come the story‍ of Kihano Frausen.‌​‍

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