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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapteer 283: Side Story – The Boy with Blue Eyes (3)

Chapteer 283: Side Story – The Boy with Blue Eyes (3)

Rutiger⁠⁠​ silently stared at​​ the tea from⁠ which hot steam⁠​​ was still rising.‌

Then‍‌‍ he lifted the​‍ cup and took‍‌ a long sip.​‍⁠

And​ he thought to​ himself.

Ah…‌‍

This‍ is awkward.

Did​‌ my father feel⁠​⁠ this way too?​‌‌

“I‌ apologize for troubling​ you at this‍ hour of the‌ night, Count.”

Rutiger‌‍ had gained a few moments to⁠⁠​ organize his thoughts​‍​ thanks to the⁠ tea.

But‍ Ramund seemed to​‌‌ read them immediately‌‌ and spoke first.⁠‍

“This‌‍⁠ old man failed​ to separate public‍​⁠ matters from private⁠‍​ ones and ended⁠⁠‌ up making a fool of himself‌‌⁠ in front of​⁠ the young ones.‍​ Please accept my​‍‍ apologies, Count.”

“…There​⁠ is no need,⁠ Lord Ramund.”

No‌⁠‍ matter how distinguished‍‍‍ a knight Ramund‌‌ had been in⁠ previous generations, it‌​‌ was still late‌‍​ at night.

Not​​‍ only had he⁠‍ interfered in a disciplinary process, but‌ he had also‍‌‌ awakened the master‍​ of the house‌ while being a guest.

Even⁠​‌ Ramund felt embarrassed⁠​‌ about it.

“That’s⁠​ why I said‌‍⁠ you could have​ sent a telegram​⁠‌ before coming. It⁠​ wasn’t that difficult.”‍⁠

“I‍ already told you‍⁠⁠ I sent one.”‌‍

Upon⁠⁠⁠ hearing Jager’s reproach,⁠​ Ramund struck his‌‌‍ chest several times‍​ with an expression‌‌ of complete indignation.‍

“I’m⁠⁠ not senile yet.‌ I’m telling you,⁠ I sent a telegram from Varna⁠​‌ during the journey.”‍‍⁠

“…”⁠

“Really?”‌‌‌

Jager⁠ had been complaining⁠‍‍ about having to⁠ receive visitors at‌‍​ such an hour.‍​

But⁠ when he saw​‌‍ Ramund’s face, he‍ ended up falling​​‌ silent.

Because​‌⁠ the sight of​⁠ Ramund speaking in​‍ a subdued voice,⁠ so different from⁠ the energy with‍‌⁠ which he had‌ been raging moments⁠ earlier, filled him⁠‍‌ with a sadness‍ that was difficult‍ to explain.

“I⁠‍ have prepared a room for you,⁠‌‌ Lord Ramund. I hope that this⁠ time as well,‌ you will stay‌ with us for​ a long while​ and continue guiding‌ our squires.”

“Haha.⁠⁠ Guiding them, you‌​ say…?”

Upon‌‌ hearing Rutiger’s words,⁠ Ramund gave a bitter smile.

The​ truth was that‌​​ Rutiger knew it​ too.

He‍‍‍ knew perfectly well‍​ that the old‍‌ man sitting before​ him no longer​‍ had the strength⁠​ to teach or​​ guide anyone.

“I‍ think it is‌ time for me‍​‌ to retire. Thank​ you for your‍ hospitality, Count.”

Even⁠‌‍ so, he had⁠​⁠ come all the‍‌ way to Sturma‍‍ for a single⁠ reason.

Because⁠ he thought this​ might be the​ last chance he‌‌ would have to​ see it again.​​‌

He‌ wanted to visit​‍​ once more the⁠ place that had‍ practically been the⁠​ starting point of​ his entire life‌​ while he was⁠‌⁠ still capable of‍ moving under his‍ own power.

“…Your​ health has weakened​ considerably. The journey​ must have been⁠​ difficult.”

When‍ Ramund left the‍‍ room leaning on‌ his cane, Rutiger‌ sank into his‍⁠ chair and spoke‍‌​ quietly.

“At⁠‍ this age, even‍ a single illness⁠⁠ leaves its mark.​​⁠ That’s also why⁠​ he couldn’t come​ last year.”

Ramund⁠⁠ was already over​​‌ eighty years old.​⁠

When‍ he met Vlad,‌⁠ he had already‌⁠‍ completed the Lower‌⁠​ Path.

No‍ matter how indomitable⁠⁠ Knight Ramund had​‌⁠ once been, time‍ had reached an‌ age that even‌ he found difficult‍‍‌ to overcome.

“…Even‍‌​ so, I’m grateful⁠‍⁠ that he made‌​⁠ the effort to‌‌‍ come.”

Time‌​ flowed onward.

And‍‍​ farewells arrived sooner‌‍​ or later.

But‍‌​ although he could‌ feel that moment⁠‌ drawing near, Rutiger‌​‍ discovered that he⁠⁠ was surprisingly calm.‍‌​

He‍ was old enough​⁠ now to be⁠‌​ accustomed to goodbyes.​⁠​

***⁠

After‌​‌ leaving the room,‌ Ramund began looking⁠⁠‍ around the dark⁠ hallway for the‌ servant who was‌⁠​ supposed to accompany‍‍ him.

However,‌ the person waiting⁠ there was not​ a servant at⁠‌ all.

“Grand…‍ no, Lord Ramund.‍ I’ll escort you.”​‌⁠

It‌⁠‍ was a boy‌​‍ whose eyes were⁠⁠‌ half-closed, as though⁠ he were fighting​‌ against sleep.

Silver‍‍​ moonlight streamed through⁠‌⁠ the windows and⁠ softly illuminated his⁠‌ blond hair.

It⁠‌‍ looked as though​​ a lunar halo‍ rested among his‍ locks.

Ramund‍ reached out and‍ patted his hair.⁠

“Haha.⁠⁠ It’s late. You‌ should be resting.”‍‌

“Even‌⁠​ so, I wanted‌‌‍ to accompany you.‍⁠ Besides, thank you⁠​‌ for helping me⁠ earlier.”

The​ boy’s words, saying​ that he had‌‍ waited for him,‌‍‍ were especially pleasant‍ to hear.

Waiting‌ had always been‍‌‌ the task of‌ the elderly.

But​‍ every now and‍​‌ then, it was‍​​ not bad to⁠⁠ reverse the roles.‌​⁠

“Come.‌ The nights are‌​ still cold.”

Emil​ removed the cover⁠ from the lantern‍‍ he was carrying.‌‍​

The​‍‌ flame began to‌​ sway and illuminate‌ the dark hallway.​‌⁠

“Let’s‌ go to the‍‍ annex. They say‌‍⁠ it’s the warmest‌ place. It gets‌‍⁠ plenty of sunlight⁠ too.”

Most​ people feared Ramund⁠ and found him‍ difficult to deal‌‍ with.

But​‌ Emil was different.‍

Because‍ ever since he​‍ was little, he​​⁠ had always called⁠​ him Grandpa.

“How‌ long do you​ plan to stay⁠ this time? You’ll‌‌ stay until autumn,⁠⁠ right?”

Emil⁠‌‌ had never had‍‍‌ grandparents.

It‌ was inevitable.

Both‍ of his parents⁠⁠‌ had been orphans.‍

That⁠⁠​ was why, at‌⁠ first, Ramund had‍ allowed him to‌​‍ call him Grandpa‍ without giving it‍‌​ much thought.

But​⁠ as time passed‍​ and the child​ grew, Ramund eventually‍‌ came to understand​⁠ something.

That‌‌ he could no⁠⁠ longer remain merely​⁠ a knight in⁠⁠​ front of this​⁠ boy.

“Yes…‍‍ yes. That’s right.‍‌​ I’ll probably stay‍​ until before winter.”⁠⁠

“That’s‌‍ great! Stay for‌⁠ a long time!”‌‍⁠

Seeing⁠‌ Emil speak with⁠‍ shining eyes, asking‍ him to remain‌ by his side​‌ for a long​⁠ time, Ramund let‍‍ out a hearty⁠ laugh.

If‌‌‌ someone had observed‍ them from afar,​​‌ they would have‌ easily mistaken them‌‌ for a grandfather‌ and his grandson.‌‍

“And​ since you’re going​ to stay for‍ so long, could⁠‍ you teach me⁠​ that?”

“Teach​‌ you what?”

Was​​ it because of‌​ the brilliant white‍​ moonlight that night?⁠‍

Or‌‍ perhaps because of⁠​ the dark black​ light that lately​‍ seemed to be‍⁠⁠ growing stronger and⁠‍ stronger?

Because‌ of those two​⁠⁠ lunar lights, Ramund’s‍‍ vision became blurry,⁠‌ and he had‌‍ to blink several‍‌ times.

“You⁠ know. The body-strengthening⁠ technique. The one​​​ that hardens the‌ body. I really​‌⁠ want to learn‌​​ it.”

In​‌ that blurred vision,‍ Emil’s face began‌‍⁠ to overlap with​ someone else’s.

A blond boy with‌‌ blue eyes.

Just‍⁠‍ like the child‍‍‌ before him, he⁠‌‌ had always wanted​ to learn something‍​ new.

In​‌‍ the end, he‌‌​ had learned it‌‍ on his own​‌ and left before⁠ Ramund had the‍ chance to teach​ him anything.

But​ this time, Ramund​ had no intention‌ of making the‍‍ same mistake.

“Absolutely​ not, brat! To⁠‍ learn the body-strengthening⁠ technique, you first‍‍ have to master‍⁠ aura.”

“Ah,‌ seriously. Everyone tells‍‍ me the same⁠‌ thing. I’m already‌‍ thirteen years old.⁠ My father also⁠‌ learned aura when​⁠ he was sixteen.”‌‍

“I‍​ learned it when‌‍​ I was thirty,​ boy. Don’t be​ in such a hurry.”

This​‌ time, he would‌ teach him everything.‌​⁠

He⁠ would hold nothing‌ back.

He⁠‍ no longer wanted‍‍ to leave behind⁠‍ any regrets.

“…By⁠‌‍ the way, while⁠ the boy keeps‍​‌ growing up, where​ the hell is‍​⁠ his father and‍​⁠ what is he‍​‌ doing?”

Trying​⁠ to focus his⁠ vision again, Ramund‌ lifted his head⁠​ and looked out⁠​‍ the window.

Two‌ moons shone in‍​ the night sky.‌‍​

And​​ between them gleamed⁠‍⁠ that black moon⁠​ which, according to​ legend, had been‌ raised into the‍​ heavens by the‍‍​ Swordmaster of this‍‌‌ era.

***‍⁠

The​⁠​ two moonlights silently⁠‍‌ illuminated the snowy​ plain.

In​‌​ the middle of​‌ that vast white‍‍ expanse, where there​⁠ was neither tree⁠ nor beast and​⁠ where even the‌‍‌ breathing of the​‌‍ person beside you​⁠ could be heard‌⁠ clearly, several men‍‌ glided across the‌‍ snow.

“Damn‍ it! Why does​‌‍ this keep wobbling?⁠‌‌ It works fine⁠​‌ for a while⁠ and then it​​‍ starts happening again.”⁠⁠‍

It‍ was a man​​ who wore a prosthetic leg on‌ his left side.⁠‍‍

“Hmm.”⁠

The‌ dark-skinned man responded‌​⁠ briefly, indicating that‍‌⁠ the same thing⁠‌‌ was happening to​‌ him.

“Couldn’t​​ it simply be​⁠ because you’re missing​ a leg? You‌‌‌ know, center of‍ gravity and all‍⁠⁠ that.”

said⁠⁠​ the blond man⁠ while teasing the​‍‍ man with the​ prosthetic.

“That’s‌ not it. It’s‍‌‍ because we used‌⁠ a grouch’s soap.​‍‌ That’s why it⁠ goes well for‍‌ a while and​⁠ then starts slipping‌⁠ again.”

explained‌​ the cat-eared man‌ who was traveling‍‌​ beside the blond‌⁠​ man.

Four‌​ men crossed the​‍ snow, stirring the‍‍ silent plain as​‌‍ they passed.

Each‍ wore long wooden​​⁠ boards strapped to‍ their feet.

Though‌⁠‌ they looked crude,​ they moved at​ a speed comparable‌ to that of‌ a horse.

“And​⁠ how much did​⁠​ someone have to​‍​ grumble for you​ to call it​ a grouch’s soap?”‌

“Hmm,‌ let’s say enough‌​‌ to go out‌‌‌ in winter and​‌‌ spray soapy water‌ on slopes so⁠⁠ people would slip.”⁠‌‌

Seeing‌⁠ Nibelun answer with⁠ a grin from‌‍‌ ear to ear,‍​ Vlad spoke with⁠‌ an exhausted expression.‌‌

“…That’s⁠ not being a grouch. That’s just‍ being a damned​‌​ villain.”

“That’s⁠ why it was‍‌ difficult to get.​‌‍ He used to‌‌‌ do it at‍‍ dawn so nobody‍​ would find out.”‍

“What?​ He was a real person?”

“Yes.⁠‌ He lives in​‍​ the city of‌‍ Timoa.”

As‍​ Nibelun explained that​‍ sometimes you had⁠⁠ to beat him⁠ up a little​ to make him⁠‍ cooperate, Vlad thought⁠‌‍ to himself.

I will never set⁠ foot in that‍‍⁠ city called Timoa.‌​

“Huh?⁠​ Really? Elder! Here?‍ Is this truly‍‌ the North Pole?”‍‍‌

Suddenly,​‌‌ Nibelun placed something⁠ beside his ear​‍ and began speaking⁠ to someone.

It​ was a seashell.​

But‌​ not just any‌⁠⁠ seashell.

It⁠⁠ was an extremely​​⁠ ancient fossilized seashell.‍‌​

“Vlad,‍ I’ve known that‌ guy for a long time, but‌‍⁠ every time I see him, he‍​ seems crazier.”

“Hmm.”​​

“You⁠ know he once‌ told me I should show respect​​ to this seashell?‌ According to him,‌⁠‌ it’s an elder​ tens of millions​‌ of years old.‍‌​ Do you understand‍ any of that?”​⁠‌

“Harven,‌ what I don’t⁠ understand is why‍⁠ you still try‍‍‌ to understand mages.​ These things are‍ simply accepted.”

If‍​​ something could be‌‌⁠ understood, then it​‌ was not magic.​

Because‍ magic was, by⁠​​ its very nature,⁠​ the art of‍ deceiving reality.

And‌‌ that was even​‌‍ more true in​ the case of​ the beastmen’s primitive⁠ magic.

“In​ any case, we’ve​‌ arrived.”

After‌‍⁠ Nibelun indicated with‌‍ a gesture that⁠​ this was the‌ correct place, Vlad⁠ took the lead⁠‍⁠ and began descending​​ into a basin.‍⁠‌

It‍​ was a depression‍ so vast that‍⁠ it could have‍ contained a small​⁠ city.

Combined‌ with the silent⁠⁠⁠ atmosphere of the‌ snowy plain, it‌ offered a majestic‍ view.

But‌​⁠ Vlad was looking‌‍‌ at the sky‍‍⁠ more than at⁠‌ the landscape.

“It’s​‌‍ definitely a good‍‍‌ place for observing‌‌ constellations.”

The‍​ North was also‍​ excellent for stargazing.‍

But⁠‌⁠ not as much​ as this place.​​‍

Because‍ they were at⁠‌‍ the North Pole.⁠

A place where the​ stars neither rose⁠‍ nor set.

Every⁠‌‌ constellation he had​‌ seen throughout his​‍ life in the​⁠​ northern hemisphere was⁠ etched across the​‌ dark sky and‌‍​ could be viewed‌ at a single‌‌ glance.

“Then‌ I’ll begin the‌ observations. Now, where⁠ are the granny⁠ glasses my grandson‍ gave me?”

While​‍‌ Nibelun rummaged through‍​​ a magical bag,‌⁠ the other three‍‌ men raised their​‍ heads toward the‍‍ firmament.

“You⁠ have to live⁠ a long time‌​ to see things⁠‍ like this. I never thought I’d‍ end up coming‍‍‌ to a place​ like this.”

“That’s​​‍ true.”

“Hmm.”‌

Men​‍‌ who had been⁠‍ born and raised​‌‍ in the alleys‌ of Soara now‍⁠ gazed at the‍⁠‌ night sky side​‍ by side.

They⁠⁠‍ commented on how‍ different it was⁠⁠‍ from the one‍‌ they had known‍ during childhood.

Because⁠ the sky of‌⁠ their youth had‍ been a broken‍⁠ and fragmented sky,​⁠ hidden between makeshift​ rooftops and old‍‍ alleyways.

“One‌​​ day I’d like⁠​ to bring my‌ son here. By‌ the way, how​​⁠ is Emil? I heard he entered‍​⁠ Bayezid as a squire this year.”‌​

“Don’t⁠ remind me. His‍⁠⁠ mother cried a lot. As if​‍ he had gone​ to the end‍‍⁠ of the world.”‌​

And⁠‍‍ the men, now⁠ fully grown adults,‌‍⁠ spoke about their‌ children beneath that⁠⁠ sky.

“Every​​ time I see⁠ Emil, I’m reminded​‍ of you when‍ you were little.‍‌​ Even though he’s‍‌​ your son, how​‍ can he resemble​‌⁠ you so much?‌ Does his mother​ never complain about‍​ it?”

Harven‌‍ uncorked a bottle⁠⁠ of whisky, took‌ a drink, and⁠ then passed it‌⁠‍ to Vlad.

Vlad‍⁠‍ accepted the bottle‌ and let out​‍ a brief laugh.​‍

“Even​⁠‌ so, he’s not⁠‌ like me.”

Above⁠ the vast sky,‍⁠​ the black moon⁠​ could be seen.‍​

The‌​‌ moon that the⁠⁠‌ mad Lamashut had⁠⁠‌ created.

That‌‌ the dying Joseph​‌ had prepared.

And​​ that he himself​‍ had raised into‌ the heavens.

“…Naturally,‍⁠‍ he must walk⁠​ a different path​ from mine.”

It⁠⁠‌ was a moon‍ that symbolized a new era.

Children​​ born in those⁠⁠ times would never⁠​ know a sky⁠‍‍ with only one‌​​ moon.

Vlad​ believed that his​ son would grow‍⁠‍ up beneath a different sky from​‌⁠ the one he​ had known in‌ his own childhood.‌⁠‌

“Sorry‍‌ to interrupt, but​‍ I have the⁠⁠‍ observation results.”

Nibelun,⁠ wearing the granny‍​‍ glasses, approached while‌ rubbing his hands⁠ as though he⁠‍‍ were cold.

Vlad‍‍ offered him the‌​​ bottle of whisky⁠⁠‌ and asked,

“Well?‍⁠‍ Were you right?”⁠‌

Nibelun‌‌‍ stared at the‌⁠‌ bottle for a few moments.

The‍‍​ apologetic expression never⁠ left his face.⁠

He​ seemed even more​‍‍ distressed by having‌​ to give that‌⁠​ answer.

“Yes.⁠⁠‌ I was definitely‌‍ right.”

Slowly‌‍​ swirling the bottle⁠ of whisky, he‍ continued speaking.

His‍​ voice was heavy,⁠⁠ very different from⁠ his usual cheerful​​ demeanor.

“The‍‍ black moon has‌ drifted from its​​‍ orbit. It keeps⁠ moving closer and‍ closer to our​ continent.”

A deep sigh sounded​ from behind Vlad.‌

It​‍​ was the reaction​ of someone who‍‍ desperately wished those⁠​ words were not‍⁠ true.

“I​‌‌ don’t know how⁠‌ close it will‍ get…”

Nibelun⁠ did not continue.‌

Because​⁠ even for him,‍ it was far⁠​ too difficult to‌ imagine what would‌ happen afterward.

“…Life‌ isn’t simple.”

Vlad⁠‍ took the bottle‍‍ of whisky back‌ from Nibelun’s hands.‌‍​

Then,‍‍ accompanied by a long sigh, he‌ gazed at the‌‌⁠ black moon suspended‍⁠ in the sky.​

Then…​‍‍

What​​​ should they do​​​ now?

In​‍​ the middle of​ the silent North⁠‍ Pole, the man’s‌‌ breath spread thickly⁠ through the air​‍ as he sank⁠​ into deep thought.‌

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