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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 13

Chapter 13

A scruffy-looking child was‌​ glaring at someone‍​⁠ in a muddy​​ back alley.

This⁠ child stood out⁠⁠ due to an‍‌‍ unusual color amidst‍ the street where‌​​ everyone was dying⁠ miserably.

“That​​ kid…”

“Leave‍‌ him be. He⁠ looks hungry.”

A man who was​ eating skewers sold​⁠ at a street​‌​ stall beckoned to‍‍ the boy who‍‌ was staring at‍‍ him.

“Come⁠​ here. Yeah, you​ with the blue‌​ eyes.”

“…..”‍‌

The⁠ boy approached as‍ directed by the​‌ man, looking just​ as disheveled as⁠ one might expect​​ from a child⁠‌ living off scraps⁠‍ in the back‌‍ alleys.

“Where‍⁠ did you come‍‍‌ from, all beaten‌​​ up?”

His​ eyes were black⁠ and bruised, and​​ the shabby clothes‍ that could barely‌‌ cover his body‌ were torn here⁠ and there, evidence‌​ of a recent⁠ fight.

“That’s​​⁠ a good look‌‍ you got in‌​ your eyes.”

Despite‍​ his wretched appearance,​ the child’s eyes​ still held a spark of life.‌‌⁠

The​‍‍ man found it​‌‍ appealing.

“Here,⁠⁠ have another skewer.”⁠‌

The​ burly man received​ a skewer from​⁠‌ the stall owner⁠⁠ and handed it‍ to the scrappy-looking‌ kid who seemed​‌⁠ like a beggar.⁠

“Eat.”‌​

It​‍⁠ was a simple‌‌⁠ act of sympathy.​⁠

However,‍‌‌ the fact that‍‌‌ he could evoke​ sympathy from the​‍ people living in⁠​ this alley meant‍ he had earned‍‌⁠ his meal.

“What⁠⁠ are you waiting⁠‌⁠ for? Take it.”‌

“…”‌

The​ scent of the‌⁠⁠ grilling meat made​ the beggar boy’s‌ mouth water.

“I‍⁠​ told you to‍ take it.”

The​⁠ boy was hesitant,‌⁠⁠ contemplating.

And⁠ it seemed like⁠ he had made⁠‍‍ a decision.

Instead​ of taking the‍ skewer, the boy‍‌‌ spoke to the​​ man.

“I⁠‌ can do something​ well.”

“What‍​⁠ is it?”

“Anything.”⁠‍⁠

The‌‍‌ boy looked at‍ him, not at​ the skewer that‌ man was offering.‍‌

“I⁠​​ can do anything‌⁠ well. Just give‌​‍ me a task.”​⁠

The‌‍‍ man who hands​‌ the skewer to​ the boy, he‍ appeared to be‍ a shining star‍‌ in the back‍‌ alleys.

“What’s‍‌ your name?”

The⁠ man, who had‌​⁠ been observing the⁠‍​ boy, became curious.‍

Who‌‌‌ is the back​ alley beggar who‌ confidently talks to​ himself instead of‌ grabbing the food‌ that will get⁠‍ him through the‍‍ day?

So‍⁠‍ he asked the‍⁠ name of the​‍ boy who looked‍ like he had‍ rolled in the‌ mud and mute,‌‍‌ but his eyes⁠‌⁠ still had light​​‍ in them.

“Vlad.”‍⁠⁠

It​⁠ was only now‍ that the man‌ met the boy’s‌​‌ eyes, which were‍​‍ blue.

The‌​⁠ man also liked‍‌ that color.

“Will⁠ you come to‌​ my house?”

And‌⁠​ so, he decided⁠‌‌ to take the⁠ boy with him.‌⁠‍

Because​‍ that color reminded‌ him of someone‌ he had left‌‌​ behind a long⁠ time ago.

The‌⁠⁠ boy’s blue eyes​​⁠ resembled stars.

※※※※​⁠‌

“Ha,‍‌​ Ha.”

Vlad‍⁠ woke up in⁠⁠​ the dead of⁠⁠⁠ night, while everyone​⁠‌ was asleep, and​​‍ he was breathing​‍‍ heavily.

“…I’ve​⁠ slept enough.”

It‌​‍ was a dream‍‌ from a long⁠ time ago.

It​​ was from a time when even‌‍ surviving each day​​‌ was a struggle.‍​‌

Vlad‍ woke up and​‍​ looked around.

The⁠ tent was filled⁠⁠​ with the pungent​‍ scent of unfamiliar​‍⁠ men and the‍‌‍ sounds of snoring.⁠

“I​‌ still smell the‌ scent of Rosa’s‌​ Smiles in this‍​⁠ barren land.”

Knowing‌​ that sleep would‌​‍ not come easily,​ Vlad picked up‌⁠ his sword and‌ stepped outside.

[Maintaining​‌⁠ the best possible‍‌‌ condition at all‍‍‌ times is a basic requirement of‍‍‍ a swordsman, Vlad.]​‍⁠

“…”‍‍‌

Vlad‍​ didn’t respond to‌​‍ the voice.

“Who’s‍‍​ there?”

“Riemann.”⁠‌

“Where‌⁠ are you going​ at this time​ of night?”

“For‌ praying.”

“…Riemann,‌ you’re more suited‌⁠ to be a priest than a mercenary.”

Vlad⁠ revealed his whereabouts‍ to the personnel‍ on watch, and​‌⁠ headed towards the⁠​ hill illuminated by‍ the moonlight.

Then⁠ he held the‌ sword and closed⁠ his eyes.

[You‌⁠ have survived through​​ many hardships.]

“Have‌ you seen it?”​⁠

The⁠ voice seemed to​ have glimpsed Vlad’s​⁠‍ dream.

[Because‌‌‌ dreams are the‌​ manifestation of strong⁠​ wishes.]

“What‍ did I wish‌‌‌ for?”

The‌ voice didn’t answer.⁠​‌

“I‍‌‍ miss it, though.”‍​

There⁠​ was a man‍​​ praying under the‍⁠‍ moonless sky.

He‍⁠ had fair blond⁠‌​ hair, fluttering in⁠ the cold winter‌⁠​ wind.

“…But⁠‍‌ how long do‌‌ I have to​ keep talking to‌‍ myself like a lunatic?”

[Until‌ you create your​⁠ own world within‍ your soul.]

“Create⁠​‍ a world? Who⁠⁠ do you think‍ I am, a god?”

[Simply‌‌​ aligning your intentions⁠⁠​ with your thoughts​​‍ is already doing‍‍‌ that. Only a strong will can‍​ make your world‍​‍ express itself.]

He‌‍ appeared to be​​⁠ pretending as such.​‌​

“I⁠⁠ guess I’ll have⁠ to keep doing⁠⁠ this crazy thing​⁠ for a long‌⁠​ time.”

[That’s‌​‍ up to you.]‌⁠⁠

Praying‍ Riemann.

It⁠‍‌ was a method‍ he thought of​‍ as a last‌⁠​ resort because he⁠ couldn’t mutter to⁠‌ himself in front‍ of others.

“Do‍​⁠ all knights do‌‍​ that? Have a world within their‍​ souls?”

[Those‌ who handle aura.]⁠​‍

“Well,⁠‍​ now that you​​​ put it that​ way, I have‍ nothing to say.”⁠‍

And⁠ unintentionally, this method⁠⁠ was quite effective.‍⁠‌

The‍ act of praying‌ allowed Vlad to‍ have some uninterrupted​‌ time alone, but⁠‌⁠ it also set‌⁠ him apart from⁠ the other mercenaries,‌ creating a sense‍ of uniqueness.

Uniqueness‌ compared to others.⁠​

It​ was another form‌‌⁠ of expressing something​ precious.

“But‍⁠⁠ earlier, I did⁠ it just like​ you said, but⁠ it didn’t work‌​​ properly.”

[Why​​⁠ didn’t it work?]​‍⁠

However,⁠​‌ now the boy‍ was regretting it.⁠⁠​

[When⁠​⁠ you raise your‌​ sword and lean‍⁠​ your body, the‍‌ opponent goes whoosh.​‍ Then, you go‌⁠ swoosh. No matter​ how many times​‍ I say it,⁠⁠​ why don’t you‍‍‍ understand?]

“…‌ Really now?”

Because​ what he was‍‍‌ trying to achieve​‌ through prayer was‍ failing.

There⁠​ is a saying‍⁠ that no matter⁠ how excellent a swordsman is, not​‌ all of them‍⁠​ can be excellent​⁠ teachers.

That‌​ saying was correct.‍⁠

Vlad‌​ doesn’t even know​‌​ if the voice​‍ was a great‍⁠ swordsman.

“Do⁠ you really think‍‌ I can understand‌ this?”

[…No,⁠‌​ I told you‌ to make the‍​⁠ swoosh sound when​⁠ you sway.]

“Oh,⁠ Lord. Please take​⁠‍ away this scum​‍ of a devil​​​ who can’t even⁠‌ speak properly.”

A bulging vein appeared​​ on Vlad’s forehead⁠ as he listened​ to the absurd‍​​ explanation.

“Kill​‍ it or spare​‌ me.”

[I​‌ hear everything.]

The​‌ voice seemed to‌ be aware that​ it was terrible‌‌‍ at explaining, and​​‌ it answered in‌​ a strangely defeated‌​ tone.

“Just‌​⁠ show me once‌‌‌ now.”

[You⁠ might end up​ as a puddle‌​‌ of goo, you‍ know?]

“I‍​‌ said I wasn’t‌ going on the⁠ expedition tomorrow.”

What​ was somewhat fortunate​ was that there⁠​​ were other ways‍​ for the boy⁠ to learn from‌‍ the voice.

[Okay.⁠‌ Close your right⁠ eye.]

Vlad‌ followed the voice’s‌⁠ instructions and closed‌‌‍ his right eye.‌​​

“Mmm…”​‌

Then,⁠ Vlad felt as⁠‌ if his vision‌‍ was receding for​‍‌ a moment. It⁠​ felt like taking⁠ a step back‌ and looking at⁠‌ the world.

[Feel‌​ it well.]

Vlad​⁠‍ closed his right‌ eye and quietly​ drew his sword⁠⁠‌ under the moonlight⁠‌⁠ with a different‍‌ attitude and atmosphere‍ than before.

Right‌‌‌ now, Vlad seemed⁠ like a different​ person, overwhelming everything‍‌‌ around him, including​‌ the blowing wind⁠ and the ground​‍​ he stood on.⁠​‌

[Sneak‍‍ in with an⁠​ unexpected move.]

There​ was a sense​‍ of dominating the‌ world.

[Control​‍⁠ the battlefield with‍ insight, one step⁠‍​ ahead.]

And‍‌‍ he swung the‌⁠ sword.

[That⁠‍‌ is the secret‍​‌ of killing with​⁠​ one strike.]

There‍ was a flash‌ of light under⁠ the moonlight that‌⁠​ should shine alone.‌‍

It‍ was a momentary​‌ brilliance.

But‍⁠​ Vlad could feel​‌ the flow of⁠⁠ air splitting for‌ a moment.

The​​ tearing and howling‌ scream of the‍‌ wind.

[Open​​ your eye, Vlad.]⁠‌

Vlad,‍ who opened his‍⁠‌ right eye again,‍‌​ staggered and fell⁠​​ to the ground.‍⁠‌

“Ugh,‌‍⁠ that was intense.”‍

Vlad​⁠​ grimaced and clutched​ his aching calf.‌‌⁠

It‍‌​ had only lasted⁠‍‍ a very short‌​⁠ time, but he‌​‌ felt a sharp‌⁠ pain in the⁠‍ muscles that were‌‍ overloaded beyond their​​ limits.

[Did‍ you feel it?]⁠​⁠

But⁠ Vlad was smiling⁠​ even through the⁠ pain.

“I‍ get it roughly.”​

He‍‌ had seen it,⁠ felt it, and⁠ also had a glimpse of it.‌

The‌⁠‌ unknown voice had​⁠ temporarily injected vivid‌ experiences into Vlad’s⁠⁠​ body.

And‌‌ the clever boy‌‌​ was able to⁠​‌ learn by following​‍ the traces left‌ behind for him.‍​

“I⁠ think I can​ do it next‍ time.”

[You⁠‍ said the same⁠‌‌ thing last time.]‌‌⁠

To​​⁠ experience it firsthand⁠​​ teaching was on‌‌ a different level‌‌ compared to teaching‌​‌ through words and​ demonstrations.

Talent‍​ by birth and⁠ vivid teaching were‍‌​ propelling Vlad’s rapid‍​ growth. It was⁠​ as if it‍ was predestined to‍​ be this way.⁠

“The​ moon is exceptionally​⁠ bright tonight.”

Vlad,​‍ holding onto his‍‌‍ trembling legs, gazed​ at the night⁠​ sky.

“Now,​​​ it reminds me​‌ of that guy‍‍​ whenever I see​ the moon.”

[……]⁠

The‍‍ knight who resembled⁠‍ the blue moonlight.‍ He was the​ first world the⁠‌‍ boy saw, and⁠⁠ he was the​​⁠ one who destroyed‍‌ Jorge, his own‍ world.

“……⁠ I’ll destroy the​⁠ moon one day.”⁠​​

[You‍⁠ will be able‍ to do it.]‍​

Vlad‍​⁠ was a boy‍‍ who always looked‍⁠‍ at the shining​‌ stars, even before​​​ he saw the⁠‍ star crafted by​‌‌ the old blacksmith.‍‍

“I‌ will avenge Jorge.”⁠

That‌⁠​ star was the‍ most imposing and⁠​‍ gigantic star in‌ the back alley.‍ The boy held⁠ the broken star‌​‍ he longed for‌‍ in his heart.⁠⁠​

“That’s‍‌ enough for today.”​‌

[All​​​ right.]

And‍⁠⁠ the star bought‌⁠ with the girl’s‍‌ tears was draped​ over his shoulder.​‌

The‍‍ blue moonlight was‌‍ watching the back⁠​ of the boy⁠‍‌ going down the​‍‍ hill carrying the‌‌‍ star on his‌ shoulder.

※※※※-⁠‍‍ Part 2

“······So⁠⁠‍ you were able‌​​ to deal with⁠⁠​ the hobgoblin through​ your improvisation.”

Late​​‌ at night, Josef⁠⁠‍ sat leaning on⁠‌ a chair, looking​​ at the knight​ reporting to him.⁠

With‌ his broad cheeks,​‌ a bulky body​​ not hidden by‌‌​ armor, and a rather timid gaze,‌ he appeared unsure‌‌ if he was⁠⁠ truly suited to‍ wielding a sword‌‍ and living as⁠‌ a knight.

“Sir‌ Vordan.”

“Yes,⁠​⁠ Lord Josef.”

Josef​⁠ swallowed a sigh‍ that almost slipped⁠​ out and spoke.​​

“Do​‌‍ I seem like⁠ an idiot to⁠​ you?”

“······”‌

Josef​​⁠ knew that he​ should be furious​ in this situation,‍​​ but instead of‍ anger, he found‍‍ himself wanting to‌​ burst into laughter.‌

“How​‌ ridiculous must I have looked for‌⁠ you to make​​⁠ a report like⁠⁠‍ this?”

“Lord,‍‍‍ Lord Josef…”

The​⁠ knight before him‍ was mocking himself.‌‌ It was unclear‍ whether it was‍‌​ to protect himself​‍‍ or to boost‍‌​ his own image,‍⁠ but he was​ spewing lies in​‍‌ front of Josef,⁠ the commander of‌​ the expedition.

“Over​‍‍ twenty mercenaries followed​‍‌ you. Do you⁠ think not a single word they‌ said reached my‍⁠‍ ears?”

“······”⁠

He‍⁠ remained silent.

Zayar,‌ who was standing‌⁠ next to Josef,​‌ was breathing heavily⁠ as he watched⁠‌ Vordan rolling his‍ eyes.

Josef⁠ knew that if‌ he were to⁠ order Zayar to‌‌ kill Vordan right​​⁠ here, that ugly⁠‌ face would end⁠‍ up rolling on​‍​ the floor.

“······Remember‌‌⁠ my words today.”⁠

“Thank⁠ you for your‍ forgiveness, Lord Josef!”⁠‍‌

However,​‍ Josef could not⁠⁠⁠ tell him to‌⁠ kill the knight‌​ called Vordan. It​​‍ was because this​‌ incompetent, stupid, old​‍ damn bastard was‍‍‌ one of the‌ few knights in​‌⁠ the family that⁠‍⁠ followed him.

“Trash…”‍

As‌ soon as Vordan⁠⁠​ left the tent,​‍⁠ Josef clasped his‍‍​ head and let​ out a sigh‌‍ of exasperation.

Even‍ though the Bayezid‌‌ family revered the⁠‍‌ military, not all​ of their knights⁠ possessed remarkable skills.⁠ The term “knight”⁠‍ referred to someone​‍‍ who wielded a sword, but it‍ was also a title.

“I‍ wish my damn​‌‌ family would just​ collapse into ruin,‌ then I would⁠‌ behead him without⁠ hesitation.”

The‌​ Bayezid family had⁠​‍ a high threshold,‌ and having the⁠ money and connections​‌ to overcome it​ meant that knights⁠‍ like Vordan could‍‌ emerge.

That​‍ can also be‌​⁠ said to be‌⁠ strength and skill.‌​⁠

“Does‌​ my father see⁠ me as a trash can? Is⁠​ that why he⁠‌ pushes only garbage‌‌ in front of⁠‍ me?”

Now,​‍‍ with a boiling‍‌‌ anger, Josef stood⁠ up and spoke‍⁠ with trembling lips.‌‍

“Please⁠ calm down.”

“…..⁠ I need a sword. A sharp​ sword, not the⁠‌‍ kind of trash⁠​‌ sword.”

In⁠⁠ Josef’s shadowy eyes,⁠​ there was a fiery desire like‍​ flames.

“If​ I have that,‍‌‍ there’s no reason⁠ for me to⁠‍ be left behind⁠‍ by my brother.”‍‌⁠

He‍‍​ sighed heavily.

He​‍‍ admitted that he‍⁠⁠ lacked skills, but​‌⁠ he couldn’t bear‌‍‍ to be judged‍​ for something he⁠⁠ was born with​⁠​ that he didn’t‍‍ have.

All‌ of the heads​ of the Bayezid‌​ family so far‍ were among the‌⁠ knights representing that‍‍​ era.

His​ father, Peter Bayezid,⁠​‌ was no exception,‌ and his brother‌‌⁠ Rutger Bayezid was⁠⁠‍ also a person​​ with the talent⁠‌ to become a knight representing the‌‍ next generation.

“God⁠ doesn’t give everything.⁠‍ Lord Josef, you‍ have much more⁠ than what you‌ lack.”

Zayar’s⁠​​ words were accurate.‌‍‍

Josef‌​ was not born⁠ with a healthy‍‍ body, but he​ was carrying weapons​⁠ that Rutger did​‌⁠ not have.

He‍‌⁠ did possess many⁠ other things. A sharp mind, a calm demeanor, a strong spirit. And‍​ even great support‌ from my maternal‍⁠ family.

Of​ course, all these⁠‌‌ qualities were considered‌‍ secondary in the​‍ Bayezid family, which‌​⁠ revered the military.​⁠⁠

“Did‌‌ you find it?”⁠⁠‌

“Yes.”⁠‍‍

Josef‌⁠ thought.

If‍ he couldn’t become‌‌⁠ the sword himself,‍‍ he would become‍ the one who​​‌ wielded the sword⁠ in place of‍ it.

“Is‌ he a noble?”​​

“No.”‌

“Or‌ is he a promising member of⁠ some swordsmanship guild?”‌‍‌

“He‍​ is not tied‍ to any particular‍ group.”

Josef’s⁠ lips curled up‍ in response to​ Zayar’s report.

“He‌​ is a man⁠‌ without a master.”‌​

“That’s‍ right. They say​ he’s from the⁠⁠ back alleys of‍‌ Shoara.”

If​⁠‌ there was no​ sword for him⁠​⁠ to wield, he⁠ would create one‌ himself if he‌⁠ had to. As‍ long as it‌​ could be perfected.​

“Alright,‍‌ it’s late now,​ so I will⁠​ meet him tomorrow.”‌

“Understood.”‍​

Josef​​ sat back in‌​⁠ his chair as⁠​‍ he watched Zayar​ quietly exit the⁠​​ tent.

Alone​ in the tent,⁠ he carefully considered‍ his options.

“What⁠ do you want,‌ Vlad.”

Josef‍‍ never gave up.⁠

“What‌​⁠ must I offer⁠ you so you​​‌ won’t refuse me,​‌ Vlad?”

He⁠​ was always the‌ one fighting to‍​⁠ survive.

In‌‍⁠ the flickering candlelight,⁠⁠ his eyes held⁠ a strange desire.‌‍

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