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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 124: Broken rope (3)

Chapter 124: Broken rope (3)

Late‍‌‍ at night, the‍‍‌ sound of drums⁠⁠ resonates with a heavy beat.

The​​ hem of the‍​ girl’s white skirt‍‌ flares as she⁠‍ twirls to the​‌ rhythm of the⁠⁠⁠ sound.

The‌ light emanating from​ the girl’s skirt‍⁠​ is brighter than‍‍‌ the torches erected​⁠ here and there.‍‍

“Remember.”‌

As​ the old Geronimo‍ said, Vlad closed‌‌ his eyes in‌ silence.

The‍⁠ sound of the​ girl dancing around‌​ him drew nearer.‌⁠​

“Can​⁠ you think about​‍ what you want?”‌​

Elders‍‍⁠ chanting spells.

Warriors‍‍ standing guard with‌‍​ weapons in each​‌‍ hand.

And​​‍ the drops of‌ light falling from⁠ the young World⁠‌‍ Tree.

Vlad​⁠ felt the spirits‍‍‌ forming over his‌​ shoulders and sank⁠⁠‍ deeply into himself.⁠​

What‍‌​ do I want,⁠‍‍ and what am‌‌ I trying to⁠​​ take?

The⁠‌​ answer to that‌⁠‌ can only be⁠ found within oneself.​

As⁠​ Vlad meditated, the‌‍ blue metal wrapped‍‍ in billowing silk‌‍ gradually rose into⁠‌ the air and‍‍​ began to glow.‍

Vlad​​‌ slowly lifted his​​‍ eyelids, accompanied by​‌ the light and​​‍ radiance.

“…”‍

Then,​‌ something appears.

A sword was visible‍⁠ floating brightly above​⁠ the nostalgic image‍‍ of the forge.⁠⁠

A sound is heard.⁠

The⁠ sound of an‍ old blacksmith hammering⁠‍ the sword.

***‍⁠‌

“Then,‍⁠ do you need⁠⁠ to stay here‍ a little longer?”‍‌

“They‌⁠ said it would​​ take a week.‍⁠ They say swords⁠⁠​ are made through​ rituals, but I don’t know what⁠ that means.”

August,​ who had packed​​‍ his clothes, shrugged​‍‍ as he listened‌ to Vlad’s words.⁠‍

“I‍⁠ don’t know what​‌​ you’re talking about,‍‍​ but I have​ to accept what​‍‍ I have.”

August‍⁠ must leave to​ complete the mission‍​​ and Vlad must‍⁠ stay because he​‍​ has something to‌‍ receive.

Since‌ we came here‍‍ with different purposes,​ perhaps it was⁠‌⁠ natural for us⁠‍ to leave at‌ different times.

“Anyway,‌ I’m curious too.⁠ Who is your⁠‌ master?”

A young knight who‍‍ does not know‍ his birth roots‌ but wants to​‍​ find the roots‍ of the sword‍ he wields.

August,​‌‍ who perfectly understood‌⁠ Vlad’s feelings, decided​​ to give him‌‌​ the right advice‌‍ before leaving.

“I​⁠ don’t know about‍ the imperial sword,⁠ but you can‌‍ check the dragon⁠ hunter list by‍‍ going to Brigantes,‍⁠‍ the capital. The⁠‌ Dragulia family keeps‍ comprehensive records of⁠ everything related to‌⁠ dragons.”

Knights​‌‌ who swore to‌‌ kill dragons.

The​⁠ Dragulia family, sensitive⁠⁠‍ to everything related‌ to dragons, recorded​‌‍ the names of‌⁠​ all dragon hunters⁠ who had ever‍​⁠ killed dragons.

Vlad’s​‌ name is probably‍ also written at⁠ the bottom.

“There‌ is a high⁠‍ possibility that your‌ master is on‌ that list.”

A man who killed‌​⁠ a dragon while⁠ wielding the imperial​⁠‍ sword.

To‌​ date, only one‌‌‍ person has been‌ officially named on⁠‍⁠ those two lists.‍

A knight who faced‍ the sharpest dragon⁠​ with the noblest‌‍ sword.

Founding⁠ King Frausen.

Clangg-‍

“…!”⁠‌

In​​⁠ the moment of‍⁠‌ silence that fell‌ between the two,‌⁠⁠ August flicked a piece of metal​ between his fingers.⁠‌

An‍‍‌ old, rusty, and‌​​ insignificant coin.

“My‍​​ name is August.”‍‍‌

A coin that only⁠‍​ the lowest can‌​‍ deliver.

Vlad‌⁠⁠ accepted the ducat‌⁠‍ that Ramund had‌⁠ given him and​​⁠ looked at August​‍ incomprehensibly.

“If⁠ someone sees your⁠ sword later and⁠⁠⁠ says something, you‍ can mention my‍‌‍ name.”

A young knight wielding‍ the imperial sword.‌

Although​⁠ his personality was‌ blossoming, August even⁠​​ added his own​⁠ color because he‍‌⁠ was still very⁠⁠⁠ immature.

I don’t know who‌‍‌ he is, but⁠ if he manages‌‌ to uncover Vlad’s‍ origins, he will​ be able to‌⁠ detect his weaknesses,‍ which is his⁠‍ skill.

“But⁠⁠⁠ if possible, don’t‍​⁠ get caught.”

Although‍⁠ it was a name that didn’t‌‍​ have much prestige,​​⁠ if it were‌ worthy of being‍‍ the name of‌‍ a former head‍​ of the imperial​ guard, it would⁠‌ prevent him from​‌​ reaching the worst​‍ situation.

“Thank⁠⁠​ you. Lord August.”‍‌‍

“I⁠‌ feel strange hearing‍‍ my name from​ you.”

August⁠​ smiled slightly as​ he looked at​‍ Vlad bowing before⁠ him.

It‌ was a short​‍ but powerful meeting.⁠‌

Although⁠​⁠ he had set‌‌ everything aside and​ was simply loyal‌⁠ to the empire,‍⁠ he still felt​⁠ that in the⁠​⁠ end he had‍⁠ left only a faint trace, which⁠​ made him feel​‌‍ relieved.

“Please‍⁠​ come to visit‍ me later when​ you come to⁠⁠‍ Brigantes.”

With​⁠‌ those words, August‌⁠ turned his head⁠‌ without hesitation.

An‌‍⁠ old knight heading​‌​ towards the rising‍⁠ morning sun.

When‌‌​ he came in,‍⁠ he came with​⁠‌ many doubts, but​⁠​ when he left,‌ his shoulders seemed​ lighter and happier.‌​⁠

“…”‌‍‍

Vlad‍‌‌ looked back and⁠‍‌ silently looked at‍ the old coin‌ in his palm.⁠‌‍

Now⁠⁠⁠ there are two‌‍ ducats.

Holding‌⁠‍ a coin that‍​ was heavier than‍ it seemed, Vlad⁠⁠‌ placed the price⁠‌​ of honor on‍ his chest.

***⁠⁠

“The⁠‍‍ old man has​‌ left?”

“Yes.”⁠‌

Now​‍ it’s a guest‌ room where Vlad​ and Goethe are‌⁠⁠ staying.

However,‍​ Goethe, who was‌ supposed to be⁠⁠ here, was always⁠‌⁠ expelled somewhere, and⁠⁠⁠ the only person⁠​ Vlad encountered was⁠ an unknown girl.⁠

“Thank⁠​ goodness.”

“Why?”​​

“…I​‍ don’t want to‌ talk.”

The⁠‍‍ girl’s occasional words‍ are incoherent.

There’s‌​ no subject or⁠​‌ object, and I don’t even know​‌​ whom she’s referring⁠⁠ to.

However,‌ since she’s a girl who only‌⁠ says what she​ sees, she wouldn’t‍ know the details.‍​‍

“But​​ is there really‌⁠ a white snake‌⁠ in a place‌‌ called Deirmar?”

“…It’s​ so big.”

Vlad,‍​ who read the⁠ girl’s intention to‍ change the subject,‍​ grabbed the spirit⁠ by the neck​ as it climbed‍‍​ onto his shoulder‍‌​ and responded.

“It’s​ big enough to‍‌ swallow all the​‌‍ children here in⁠​⁠ one gulp.”

The⁠​‍ spirit, whose eyes‍ gleamed and panted​ as if asking‍⁠‌ to play, had⁠ a tail made​‌ of fire.

“I⁠‍⁠ want to see⁠‌‌ it someday. If‍ I had to​‌‍ be specific, I’d​‍ say these spirits​ are on par⁠⁠ with their parents.”​

“Is⁠‍ there a genealogy⁠ among spirits?”

“I⁠‌ don’t know about‍​ that. I just⁠ want to call​⁠ it spirit.”

A white snake that‍ clearly was born​‌‍ from the mother​‍ world tree.

The‌ young priestess of‌‌‌ the world tree⁠‍ seemed very interested⁠ in the traces‌⁠ of her mother,​​ the world tree,‍‌⁠ whom she had‍ never seen since‌ her birth.

It‌ would be worth​‍ it.

Because‍ now she was‍ in a position​ where she had⁠⁠ to prepare for​‍​ the ceremony while‍⁠‌ reflecting on the​‌ traces she had⁠ forgotten.

“I​​ just need a long and sturdy⁠ sword. It seems‍ there’s a forge‌‍​ here.”

“Not​⁠ me. I’ll do​ it.”

The​​‍ priestess, who was‍​ looking at an‌ old book, looked⁠‍‍ at Vlad with⁠‍​ stern eyes and‌⁠​ said.

“I‌‍‌ said I’ll do‍‍‌ it, but why‍‍​ do you do‌ that? Everyone says‌⁠‍ they want to⁠ do it.”

As​‍‌ soon as the‍​ girl finished speaking,‍‌ the young spirits‌ opened their mouths⁠‍‌ and started screaming​ something.

They’re​ probably whining or​ chirping.

Although‌‌‍ he couldn’t hear‍⁠‍ it, Vlad closed​ his eyes when​ the atmosphere suddenly‌‍⁠ became chaotic.

“Anyway,⁠‍ you have to​‌‌ try at least⁠ once. If I don’t, everything will​‌ be forgotten.”

“…All​ right.”

If​‍ it’s not connected,‌ it will be‌ forgotten.

The‌ numerous rituals that‌ were supposed to​‌‌ be passed down​ from elders to​‌ juniors, and from​⁠‌ previous generations to⁠ the next, now⁠‍ only remained in​ a few old‍​ books, and the​‌⁠ person who would‍ kindly teach the‍‌‍ girl no longer‌⁠ existed, cut off​​ by the passage⁠⁠‍ of time.

“Wait.‌​‍ We’ll make you​ something good.”

Vlad‌‌‌ wasn’t the only​‌‌ one who had‍‌⁠ to find his⁠​ own way.

Here‍ too, there was‌ a girl who​ had to find‍‌ her own way⁠⁠ and build something.⁠‌

“Take‍⁠‍ your time.”

Sometimes​​ there are burdens​​‌ that can’t be‍‍ shared.

Vlad,⁠ who didn’t dare‍ to extend his​​‌ hand to the‍⁠ girl carrying such‌​ a burden that‌​ she had to⁠ bear alone, decided‍‍ to stay by‍ her side.

“Because⁠‌​ I’ll be waiting.”‍​

With​​ those words, Vlad‌‍‍ lifted a cloth​ and wiped Jorge’s⁠ dagger.

Looking‍‍‌ at Vlad like⁠ this, the girl‌ raised the book‌‌ she was holding.‍

Her⁠⁠​ face was covered,​​ but her pointed⁠ ears and golden‍​‌ eyes were directed​‌ at Vlad.

***‌⁠

On‍‌‍ the full moon‍‌ night of pure⁠‌ white, all the‌‌ elves of Ausurin⁠‌ began to gather⁠ en masse in‌‌ front of the⁠​ World Tree.

“This‌​​ is quite a sight, Captain.”

“I‍​ just consider it​‌‌ a festival or⁠‍‍ something like that.”⁠

Vlad⁠ and Goethe were‍ a little embarrassed‍‍⁠ by the situation​‌​ where all the‌ elves from the‍ village had gathered‍⁠‌ and surrounded them.‌⁠

The‌⁠‌ two still didn’t⁠ understand why they⁠​ had to stay‌ here instead of⁠⁠ at the smithy‌ to make the​ sword.

“The‍‍‌ sun is strict,‌ but the moon⁠ is kind. She‌‍ closed her eyes‌​‌ for a moment.”‌​⁠

The‍​ staff he held⁠​‍ trembled, but his⁠ voice was clear.‍

Geronimo,⁠‍ who had already‌‍​ recovered enough to⁠ move, slowly approached‍​​ and opened his​ mouth to Vlad.‌‌

“So​⁠ think about it.‍ The shape of‌ the sword you​‌​ want.”

“Is​‌‌ it okay to‌ just think about​ it?”

Vlad​‌‍ listened to Geronimo’s​ words and looked​‌ at the girl⁠​​ kneeling in front​‌ of him.

A girl dressed in‌‍ pure white cloth.⁠‍

A small crown made‌‌ of flowers was‍​ placed on the​ girl’s head.

“The‍ clearer and more​‌ intensely you can‌‍⁠ remember it, the​‍ better.”

“All‌ right.”

It‍‍ seems new and⁠‍ different every time‍ I see it.‌​‌

Vlad,‍ who felt that‍‌​ the girl, whose‍ name he still‍ did not know,‍‍‌ was full of‌ an inexplicable mystery,⁠‍ nodded to Geronimo.​

“Close⁠ your eyes and‍‍ get ready.”

Vlad⁠‍⁠ silently closed his​ eyes as he​ spoke those words.​

The‍⁠ surrounding air suddenly‍‌ became silent.

Vlad‌‍ swallowed unconsciously in‍ an atmosphere of‌‌ tension rather than‍‍⁠ fear.

“Let’s‌ begin. Lady.”

There‌‌ was no grand‌‍‌ beginning.

Only⁠ the faint sound​‌ of drums could⁠ be heard.

The⁠‍ girl stood up‍‍‌ to the sound,​ silently placed her​ hand on her​ chest, and looked‍​ at the young​ World Tree.

“…”⁠

The‍‌ girl, who began​⁠ to dance in‍ an incomprehensible elven‍ language, approached Vlad‍‍ and began to⁠‌​ spread the fabric⁠ she held.

It‍‌ looked like a butterfly fluttering its‍‍‌ wings.

The‍‍ sound of the‌‌‍ drum grew louder.‌

The⁠‍ girl’s resonant voice​‌ spread widely through‍‌ the sound.

The⁠ surroundings were full‌⁠ of young spirit‍⁠‍ repair boxes.

Kkang-Kang-‍

And​⁠⁠ the sound of⁠ a hammer could‍ be faintly heard⁠⁠ beyond those sounds.‌

Vlad⁠ focused on the‌ sound and fell‌‌ into a deeper⁠ world.

“…”​

Total‍‍ darkness.

Vlad​‌ walked towards the‌​ dark mud, following‌ the example of​‍ the fluttering butterfly.‌

The⁠ soft feeling of​​ the ground was‌ familiar to him.⁠​

The‍ sticky, viscous mud‌⁠⁠ was something the​​ young man found‌​‌ difficult to escape‌ from, but for​‍‍ Vlad now, it​‌‍ was just a momentary discomfort.

¡Kaang!⁠‍​ ¡Kang!

A nostalgic sound was​⁠ heard from far⁠ away.

Before​ he knew it,‌‌‌ a white butterfly‍‌ had flown away‌‍⁠ and was sitting‌ quietly between the​‌ cracks of the‌⁠ door of the​ old smithy.

“…”⁠

Vlad​ lifted his head​‌ and looked at​⁠ the smithy where​​ a butterfly was‍‍ perched.

A star hung high​‍‌ above the forge.​

The⁠⁠ sword, now lighter‌⁠⁠ than a feather,‍‍ was silently reflected.‌‌‌

“Long‌‍‍ time no see.”‌‌‌

Guided​ by the butterfly,‌​ Vlad crossed the‌​ deeply engraved footsteps‌‌​ in front of‍​ the smithy and​ opened the door.‌​

There​​‍ it felt stiflingly⁠​‍ hot.

And⁠ the constant sound‍‌ of hammers.

“I’m​‍ here,” he said.​

“Okay.‍ Are you coming?”‌‌‍

Vlad​⁠‌ silently closed his​​ eyes as he​​‌ heard the clearly​‍ audible voice.

In⁠​ the illusion that⁠⁠ seemed to disappear⁠ if he looked‍​​ directly at it,⁠‍ the old smith‌‍‍ smiled at him.‌

“I⁠‍ want to make⁠​​ a sword.”

“A⁠‍ sword?”

The‌‍ old man had​‌​ said he would‍⁠ no longer make‌‌ swords.

He‍​ said he couldn’t​‍ make a proper​‌ sword with an⁠‌‌ old body and‍ a poor furnace.‍⁠⁠

“Then,⁠⁠ you’re in luck.‍‌ Good materials just‌ arrived.”

But‌​‌ now he was‍ saying he would.‌‍

Because⁠‍‌ his old body‍‍ and his old‌ tools could no‌⁠ longer be an​​‌ obstacle for him.⁠‍​

“This​​‍ is a meteorite,‍‍​ but it’s a metal that fell‌​ from a star,‍ so it has​​‌ no impurities and⁠⁠ is very hard.”‌‍⁠

A voice full of‌ power, not a languid voice.

Upon‍‌ hearing that voice,​​ Vlad smiled.

“I‍‍ would like it⁠‌‌ to be of‍‌‌ modest size, without‍ adornments, and black‌​ in color. I guess I’ve grown⁠‌ fond of that⁠‍ first sword you‌ forged.”

“Indeed,​ I can’t do⁠​‌ much more than‍‍‌ that.”

The​ old smith who⁠​‌ had accepted the‍​ commission raised his⁠‌⁠ hammer with determination​‍‍ and let it​‍ fall with force.‍⁠

¡Kraaang!‍

The⁠ sound of crackling​​⁠ fire in the⁠ forge sounded like‌‌‌ the frolicking of​‍ a puppy’s tail.‌

On‍‍ the anvil, a small sparrow pecked.‍‍‌

A young blowfish cooled​ a bucket of‍‌ water.

A lizard hatchling constantly‍ poured sand over⁠ a sword tirelessly.‍‌

The⁠ girl with the⁠⁠ simple sword passed‌⁠‌ her hair as‍‌ payment, but now‍​⁠ the young spirits‌‍ being created were‍⁠ paying in her⁠‌ place.

“It’s‍​​ ready.”

“…Already?”‌

He‍‌‍ wanted to stay‌ here longer because‍ he felt warmth⁠‍‍ for the first⁠‍ time in a long time, but⁠​‌ his time here‍⁠‍ was not infinite.⁠‌‍

A white butterfly on‌ the threshold was‌‍⁠ slowly weakening.

“Good⁠‍‌ to see you‌ after so long.‍⁠​ Now rest.”

The‌‍ white butterfly sitting‌ by the door‌⁠ was slowly weakening.‍

Vlad​ silently opened his‌‍ eyes when he​‍​ suddenly felt the​‌ strong touch of​ a raised sword.‌

A blue light visible‍‍‍ through fluttering white‍​ wings.

A sword but with​ a bright blue‍ waiting for Vlad‌‍ there.

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