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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 25: Because I didn’t surrender (2)

Chapter 25: Because I didn’t surrender (2)

In‍ the silent dining⁠ hall, Goethe stared‍ at Vlad, unsure‌‍ of what to‌​⁠ do.

“Captain.”‍‌‌

Simultaneously,​​ countless glances in​ the dining hall‌​ began to turn​ toward where Vlad‌ was sitting, filled‌​​ with various forms‍​‌ of disdain.

Everyone⁠⁠‍ was expecting something.​

“…”⁠

A yellowish mass floated⁠ on top of​‍⁠ the soup Vlad‌‌‌ was eating.

It‍ was a piece⁠ of someone’s saliva.​

“Sorry.‌⁠‌ I thought this​⁠⁠ was a trash‍‌ bin because it‍⁠ smelled like garbage.”​⁠‌

“Hahaha!”⁠‍⁠

Three‌⁠ squires standing behind​‍ Vlad burst into‌ laughter.

Sooner​ than he thought.⁠

Vlad​‌‌ wasn’t angry with⁠‌‌ the squires for​​‌ making fun of⁠ him.

He⁠ simply nodded, knowing‌‌‌ what was coming.‌⁠‍

He​‍⁠ expected this to‌​ happen someday.

House‌‌ Bayezid was a prestigious family, even⁠ in the North.​‍

Even‌ a brief stay‍⁠‍ in such a place was a significant step in​⁠ one’s career, and​‌ each of the​​ squires here now​‌ came from a good family.

Naturally,‌ there would be‌‌‌ a reaction to‌‌ the arrival of⁠ an unwelcome guest​‌ in a place‌‌ that was home⁠​ to a series‌ of masters who,⁠​​ while not nobles,​ were still quite⁠ valuable.

It​ had happened before​ in the garrison,‌⁠ so Vlad decided⁠​ to endure it⁠⁠ for now.

‘I’m‍‍⁠ used to it.’​

Scorn,‍‍ disdain, and ignominy‌ were always familiar‍⁠‌ to him.

Of⁠ course, familiarity didn’t‌ mean it didn’t‍​ hurt, but Vlad⁠ decided to let‍ it go this​‍⁠ time.

So,‍‌​ silently, he picked⁠ up his spoon.‌​‍

“Captain…”‍⁠‌

He⁠‍ picked up the⁠⁠‌ spit floating in​‍‌ the soup and⁠‍ spread it on​​⁠ the floor.

Then,‍ as if nothing‌‍ happened, he picked‌‌ up the spoon‍​ again and started⁠ eating the soup.‌‌

“…”​⁠

“…”‌

The‌⁠‍ dining hall squires‍ chuckled at the⁠ planned harassment, but​‌‍ they all stopped‍⁠‍ laughing at the‍​ determined look Vlad​ had just directed‍⁠​ at them.

A strange silence fell.​

“What​ the hell, this⁠ guy.”

None​​ of the newcomers‍⁠‍ had behaved like⁠‌ this.

Angry,‍ scared, or just⁠‌ smiling.

But​ this alley guy​​‍ was acting beyond‍‌ their expectations.

“…”​‍‍

In⁠⁠‌ the involuntary silence‌ of the restaurant,​ Vlad thought of‍​⁠ Jager’s words.

“Be​‍⁠ careful about what‌‍ you do from⁠‌ now on; everything⁠​ is directly related⁠​⁠ to Mr. Joseph’s‌‍⁠ reputation.”

Knowing⁠‌‍ Vlad’s temperament, Jager​‍‍ had warned him⁠​ to be careful‍‌‌ about his behavior.⁠​‍

‘They’ve​​ given me something,‌‍ so I’ll have⁠ to endure it.’⁠

Vlad⁠‌​ knew he had⁠ been given a golden opportunity.

So,‍⁠ if he could,‌‍‌ he would stay⁠⁠ quiet for the‌‍‌ sake of Joseph’s⁠​ dignity.

“What​‌ should I do?”​

He​​ couldn’t help but‍⁠‌ think of the‍⁠‌ ugliness that lurked‌ from the streets.‌‌

That’s‍‍​ why, even though‌⁠ he was deliberately‍⁠⁠ passing the soup,‌‍ something spontaneously sprang​ up.

Blue‌ eyes that made​‍‌ Vlad recognizable even‌‍ in the wildest⁠‌‌ streets.

Those⁠‌‍ eyes burned.

“Arrogant‍ bastard.”

When‌⁠ things didn’t go⁠‌ as he wanted,‍ the squire growled​‍ and approached Vlad.‌

“I’ll⁠‌​ see you later.‌ I’m going to⁠‌‌ beat you up.”⁠‍

“What’s⁠‍ your name?”

He‍‌‍ had intended to‍⁠ intimidate him with⁠⁠‌ his bravado, but​⁠ the boy was‍⁠ reacting in a way he hadn’t​‌ anticipated.

“What?”‍‍

Vlad‍⁠​ slowly turned his‍‌ head, his voice⁠ hoarse.

“What’s⁠​ your name?”

Confronted‍‌ with the boy’s⁠‍ burning blue eyes,‌‌​ the squire felt‌ his surroundings darken‍​ for a moment.‍​

There‍⁠​ was a look​‍‍ in those eyes⁠​‌ that was even‍​ more intimidating than‍ that of the​⁠ knight he now‌​⁠ served.

“I-I’m⁠ called Sovanin.”

Sovanin⁠‌ stammered, unable to‌⁠ speak.

The​‌‍ impulse was there.‍‍‌

“Sovanin.”⁠‍‍

Vlad⁠ chewed his soup,⁠⁠ silently repeating Sovanin’s​⁠⁠ name.

A dog about to⁠⁠⁠ bite doesn’t bark.⁠⁠

Those‌‍​ who wish to​⁠ kill don’t get‍ angry.

“I’ll‍ remember that.”

He‍⁠​ stared, silently.

Finally,‌‍ Vlad finished his‌ meal and stood‌​‌ up with an‍ empty plate.

“I’m‍‌ looking forward to‍⁠⁠ the ceremony.”

Sovanin⁠ heard Vlad’s voice⁠‌⁠ as he passed,​ realizing that something⁠ was wrong.

“Hey,​ who does this​ street rat think‍‍⁠ he is?”

He‍ spat out the‌‌‌ sharp words, intending‍‌ to see his​ pride crumble to​ the end, but⁠​ Vlad simply returned​‌ the plate to​⁠​ him and left‌​ the dining hall⁠⁠ in silence.

Even‍⁠ when Goethe persuaded​​ him with a look and followed‌​ him out, an‍ eerie silence fell​​​ in the dining​⁠ hall.

***‍‌⁠

“Captain,‌ are you okay?”‌⁠

“I‍​ don’t feel well.”‌​‍

“What‌​‍ are we going⁠‍ to do now?​ I asked the​​‍ servants, and it‍ seems that Sovanin‍ is the leader‌‍ among the vassals.”‍​​

“He‍‌ is the leader?”‌⁠

Vlad‌‍ asked, and Goethe‍‌⁠ vigorously shook his‍ head.

“Alright.”​

“Be‌ careful.”

Squire​⁠ and servant.

As‍​⁠ they parted, Vlad‍ gestured to Goethe‌‍‍ with his hand,​​ then headed in‍​ the direction he⁠‌ was going.

“I’m​​‍ a bastard.”

Even‍ in the restaurant,​⁠ with dozens of⁠ people around, Vlad⁠‌⁠ was as carefree​​ as if he⁠⁠ were eating at​​‌ home.

“That’s‌​‌ why I’m sure‌ I’ve been hearing​​‍ ghosts and such.”‌​‌

Maybe⁠​⁠ it’s a natural‌⁠⁠ reaction.

He​ had seen things‍​ too terrifying to⁠‌ be seen, so⁠​‌ what is a small threat from‍‌ his peers?

“That’s​ why you have⁠‍‌ to play in‍‌‍ big places.”

When‍​‌ Vlad’s figure disappeared‍‍‍ at the other‌ end of the‌‌‍ hallway, Goethe followed‌ him.

There‍‌⁠ would be no‍ need to worry.‍⁠

He⁠⁠ is not one​‍‍ to stop in‍ a place like​​ this.

Upon​​‌ separating from Goethe,‌‌ Vlad headed to⁠​ the training ground‌ where Jager would​ be, following the​ established routine.

“Is‍⁠ everything alright?”

“Yes.”‌​

“Then⁠​ take your sword.”⁠

After‍ lunch, there was‍‌ a brief sparring‍​ session with Jager.‌‍

It‍ was not uncommon​ for a knight​​​ to train his⁠‌​ squire every day.⁠

Unless‍​‍ the squire in⁠‍ charge was the⁠ son of a noble family or⁠‌ their parents were​ generous with money.‌‌

“But‌ I have a question.”

“Tell⁠ me.”

Vlad‌‌ snorted and turned​⁠ to Jager.

“If‌⁠‌ I’m surrounded by​‌‍ a bunch of‌⁠ people, what do⁠ I do then?”⁠

“Run.”​​⁠

“If‌ I can’t run.”​

“How​​‍ well armed is‌‌‌ your opponent?”

Vlad‍​ asked, looking around⁠ the training ground‌ at Jager’s question.⁠‌

“Wooden⁠ swords, perhaps, with‌‍⁠ some guys with⁠ small shields mixed‍‍​ in.”

“Really?”‍​

Jager’s‌ eyes narrowed, as‌ if he had⁠ noticed something in‌‌​ Vlad’s response.

“Well,‌‍‌ your sword skills⁠​ are certainly not⁠‌ suitable for combat‍​ among several people.”​

“If?”‌‌

Vlad’s‌ eyes narrowed at​⁠ this unfamiliar assessment⁠ of his sword⁠⁠ skills.

Looking​‌ at him, Jager‌​​ drew a line‌​ on the ground‍‌‌ with his wooden‍​‍ sword and spoke‍ quietly.

“You’ve‌‍ learned without knowing​​ what type of​⁠ swordsmanship your master‍⁠‌ uses.”

“The‍ man teaching me…‍‍​ I don’t even‍‍ know who he‌ is.”

After​‍​ a moment of⁠⁠ internal grumbling, Vlad‍ replied.

“I⁠‍ don’t know,” he‍⁠​ said, “because honestly,​⁠⁠ if someone is⁠‌‍ going to teach​ me something, I’ll​‍ have to be‍⁠ grateful.”

“I‌ suppose.”

Drawing‍ a long line​ on the ground⁠​⁠ in the shape‌⁠⁠ of a cross,​‌ Jager wielded his⁠ wooden sword, brushing⁠‌ away the sand⁠‍‌ that had scattered⁠‍ on it.

“Your‌⁠ master was probably‌⁠​ a duelist. Your‌‌ sword skill is⁠ specialized in individual‍ combat, not in​‌ battles among several‍‍ people.”

[Oh!]‍​​

The‌ voice exclaimed excitedly,‌ having gained a clue about himself‍ from an unexpected⁠‌‌ place.

[Ask‌‌ him more!]

“A​ duelist?”

Vlad​‌‌ seemed excited for⁠​ some reason, and⁠ Jager, wondering if​‌ this boy liked‍⁠⁠ this kind of‌ thing, decided to‌⁠⁠ explain a bit‍‍‍ more.

“Not‌​​ all knights are⁠ the same. There‌⁠ are house knights,⁠⁠‌ like me, and‌⁠‌ there are wandering‌‌ knights, who roam​‍ the land with​​​ nothing but a knight’s title. Duelists‌ are a type⁠⁠ of wandering knight.”‍​

Jager‍‌​ tilted his head​ toward Vlad.

“A⁠ duelist is a knight who fights‌ as a proxy,⁠‍⁠ usually in an⁠ honorable duel. Do​ you have more‍ questions?”

“So,‌‍ are any of​ the duelists famous?​⁠‍ Or someone who‍ used to be​‌ famous but is​⁠ now unheard of?”‌⁠​

Jager‌‍⁠ looked at Vlad’s​ bright eyes and‍ thought he should‌‍‍ end it here.‍⁠

The‌‍ boy’s curiosity was‌‍‍ unlimited, but his⁠‍​ time today was⁠‌ limited.

“One‍⁠ lesson a day.⁠‌ Do you want⁠​​ me to teach⁠⁠‍ you about famous‌ duelists, or the‍‌‌ basics of combat‍‍ among several people?”​⁠‍

[Famous⁠ duelists!]

“Multipersonal‍ combat.”

His​ voice pleaded with‍⁠⁠ him to reconsider‍‍ the answer he​⁠‍ had just given,‍​⁠ but for Vlad,‍ the immediate task⁠‍‌ at hand was​ important.

“Alright.‌ Go ahead.”

Following​⁠ Jager’s gesture, Vlad‌‌ positioned himself in‌ the center of‍ the cross.

“The​ foundation of combat⁠ among several people⁠​ is the angles.⁠ Right now, you⁠​‍ are exposed in‍​⁠ four directions—east, west,​ south, and north—meaning⁠ you have to​ defend against at​‍ least four attackers.”‌

“What​ do I do‌ then?”

“Use‌​ the terrain.”

Jager‌‌ grabbed Vlad by⁠ the shoulders and‌⁠‍ held him at‍‍​ the end of⁠‌​ the cross.

“With‌ your back to​⁠​ the wall, we​​ have three angles‍ left, so we​ have one.”

“That​‍ makes sense, but⁠ what if we​‍‍ fight where there​‍ are no blocks?”⁠‌

“You’ll‌‍‍ be fighting in​ a very difficult​ situation. Fight from⁠⁠​ the most favorable​‌⁠ position possible.”

“And​‌ if there really‍⁠ is no such‌ place?”

Jager‌​‍ shrugged at Vlad’s‍‍​ insistent question.

“Then⁠⁠‍ you’ll have to‌ create an obstacle.”‌​⁠

“With‍⁠⁠ what?”

Vlad​‍⁠ asked, and Jager‌‍ smiled satisfied.

“With⁠‍ the other person’s‍⁠‍ body.”

Jager’s‍⁠‌ smile had a certain weight.

“A‌ human shield can⁠ be a good‌ obstacle. They are⁠ heavy, bulky, and‌‍​ harden over time​‌ after death.”

Vlad​‌​ nodded, and his⁠⁠​ eyes lit up​​​ at Jager’s practical‌ instruction.

“As​⁠‍ I said, the⁠ basics are not⁠ to give an⁠ angle, and the‍ second most important‌‍ thing is timing.‍​ It’s about not⁠​​ letting the opponent’s‍​ attack in.”

Sigh.‌⁠

With​​ that, Jager moved‍​ silently in the⁠⁠ sightline.

“Eh?”⁠‌

Vlad⁠‌ remained perplexed for⁠​​ a moment as‌​ he observed Jager’s‌ movements.

It‍‌‍ seemed like he​‍ was going to‌ move to the‌‍‍ right, but when​​ he opened his‍⁠ eyes, he was‍‌ standing to the⁠⁠ left.

It⁠​⁠ was an advanced​​ technique to deceive‍ the opponent with‌⁠ shoulders, eyes, and‍​​ foot positioning.

“To​ create it, you​​⁠ have to anticipate​ your opponent’s movements.”‌

[Control⁠⁠ your opponent with‍ your movements].

Vlad⁠​‌ nodded as he‍‍ listened to Jager’s⁠ explanation and the‌⁠⁠ voice in his⁠ head.

“Do‌‌‌ you mean to⁠⁠ anticipate your opponent’s‌​‍ movements with your‌ own?”

“Yes…​ Glad you understood;‌⁠⁠ I don’t like​⁠ explaining things twice.”​‍⁠

Vlad‍ grasped the concept‍‌‍ without further ado,‌ thought Jager, considering⁠⁠​ him a bright​‍ young man.

In​ reality, the voice⁠ of his soul‌‌ expanded.

“For⁠​ that, you must​ be in constant‍ motion.”

“Motion?”‍‌

“All‍ fencing begins with⁠​‍ steps. Today, at​‌‍ your request, we’ll‌‍⁠ learn the steps​⁠ for combat involving‌ several people.”

Jager⁠‍⁠ chuckled as the​ boy’s eyes lit⁠⁠ up at the​‍​ prospect.

There​ was passion in‍ the boy’s eyes,​‌​ but more than‍ that, there was‍‌‍ desperation.

There‌ was a beast‍‌ in him, hungry​⁠‍ to learn.

“Repeat‍‌ after me.”

The​‌ training began at⁠​ noon and continued‌‍‍ until dusk approached.‌‍

Promise.​​

We‍ had a reason⁠‍ to do it.‌⁠⁠

There⁠‍ was a boy⁠​‍ who also had⁠ two objectives.

In‌​​ the twilight, the⁠ boy was dancing.​

“Come​ on, do it.”​⁠​

“…”⁠⁠‍

“If⁠‍​ you’re going to​⁠ do that, run⁠​‌ away; I won’t⁠​​ say anything about⁠ it.”

“…I‌​​ just learned it​ for the first​ time today; isn’t​​ it natural that⁠ I can’t keep‍‌ up?”

Although‌ the dance was​ painfully embarrassing to​⁠ watch.

Despite​​ his bruises, Vlad‌​​ laughed from the​⁠ heart for the‌⁠ first time in‍ a long time.‌‍‍

It‌ was tough, but‌ Jager watched over‍​​ him, and Joseph⁠⁠ trusted him.

These⁠ feelings lasted until‍⁠⁠ that night. I hadn’t felt this​⁠⁠ way since I cried on the⁠ garbage heap.

Suddenly,‍ Vlad saw the‌‌‌ red sun slide​ below the horizon‌⁠ and thought about⁠‌ the people from⁠⁠⁠ the Soara.

He‍⁠ missed them.

***​​

“What’s⁠⁠ all this mud​ in front of​ the shop?”

In‌‍‌ the midst of‍ the streets at⁠ dusk.

A mercenary entered the⁠ city’s only blacksmith.​

“Yes?”‌‌

“Let‍ me ask you‍‌ something.”

Most‍‌ people who came⁠ to the old‍ blacksmith were predetermined.​‍

Those‍​ who wanted truly‍​ luxurious things went​ to the well-known⁠‍‍ blacksmiths of Soara,​‌‌ and finally, those‌‌ with little money‌⁠⁠ looking for something‍⁠‍ to get by​​ came here.

The⁠‍​ only exception, of​ course, was the‍⁠ blond boy who⁠⁠ always looked at‌⁠ the sword.

“You​​ don’t seem like‍‍‍ the type who‌ would come to​​ a place like​‍ this, right?”

“Oh,⁠ of course, I haven’t come to​​‌ buy anything.”

But‌ the mercenary in‍‍⁠ front of the​ old man seemed⁠‌ to have some⁠⁠⁠ skill.

The⁠‌​ weapons and armor‍‍​ he wore, and‌ the items he‍ had hidden in⁠⁠‍ various places, indicated​⁠‍ that he was‌ an experienced mercenary.‌‌‌

“It’s‌‍ my first time​ on the streets‍⁠⁠ of Soara.”

“So​​‍ it seems.”

“Is⁠‌ this the only‌‍ forge on the‌‍ streets?”

“It⁠ is.”

“And⁠ do they make​ swords here too?”​

“…‍‍​ Not anymore.”

At​​‍ the response of‌⁠‍ the old blacksmith,​​‌ the mercenary nodded​⁠ as if he​‍ had known it​ would be so.‍

A small, dilapidated brazier.‌ And, above all,‌⁠ an old man⁠‍ with gray hair⁠‍‍ who seemed to​‌ have rotted away⁠⁠​ in an alley‌⁠ all his life.​⁠

The⁠ old man seemed‍⁠ unnecessarily cold as‌‌ the man’s eyes​ scanned the shop.‌‍​

“What‍​​ the hell do‌ you think you’re⁠⁠​ doing asking me‍‌ that?”

“I​​⁠ want to make​​ a sword.”

“Why​ have you come⁠ here seeking a sword when you⁠ could have gone​‌ to any blacksmith‌‍ and ordered one?”⁠‌​

The​​ mercenary laughed at​ the old man’s‍‌ ironic comment.

“Because⁠‍ I want to​‍‌ make a special‍‌ sword.”

“What⁠ special sword?”

The‍‌ old man stoked‍‌⁠ the brazier’s fire‌ without looking back‍ at the man.⁠‍​

“I⁠ want to make​‌⁠ a sword that‌⁠‍ can even ring‌⁠⁠ those… ghosts.”

“Ghosts?”⁠⁠

The‌ old man’s eyebrows⁠ arched as he‍ wondered what the​‌ man was talking‌⁠‍ about.

“If‌ you’re seeing a ghost, go to‌⁠ the church, not​​‌ here.”

“No,​ nothing like that.‌‍​ By the way,‌ have you heard‌⁠​ of Vlad from⁠ Soara? I heard​⁠ he’s from here.”​

“Vlad?”⁠​​

The⁠​ old man dropped⁠​ the embers he⁠‍⁠ was throwing into​⁠ the brazier when⁠‌‍ the familiar name‌ sprouted from the‍⁠⁠ stranger.

“Why‍ did he… die?”​‌‍

“I​‌ see you know⁠ him, so he’s​‌​ from here, isn’t​​⁠ he?”

The​​‌ mercenary smiled, as⁠ if he finally‍‌ understood.

“I‌​ gave him a blow, and he⁠‍‌ told me the‌​‌ sword was made⁠‌ in a forge‍‌ in the streets​​​ of Soara.”

“What.”‍⁠

He’s‌​ alive.

What⁠ luck, thought the‌⁠⁠ old man.

But⁠‌⁠ what the man⁠ said next was‍ almost unbelievable.

“The​‌ boy cut the⁠‌ ghost.”

“A‌​ ghost?”

“Yes.‍‌​ It was a cursed woman, and‍‌ the sword glowed‌⁠​ and cut her‌‍ in half.”

The​‍ mercenary who had⁠​​ entered the now⁠⁠‌ ruined forge was‌‍​ one of the​⁠​ mercenaries who barely‌​​ escaped alive from‍‌ the slaughter.

At‍⁠ the moment of⁠‍​ his death, a white blade had‍⁠‍ shone.

For​​‍ the mercenary, the⁠ light that flashed‍ through the dense‌⁠ fog was brighter‍‌⁠ than anything he​⁠ had ever seen.‌‌⁠

“It’s‌‍ impossible that that‍‌ boy could have‌ used Aura, so‍‌​ I thought the​ sword was special,‌⁠‍ and that’s why‌ he cherished it​⁠​ so much.”

“…”⁠‍

The​‍​ mercenary had come​‌ to the streets​​​ of Soara with⁠​​ a good idea.‌​

“So,‍‌ a sword that​‍ can cut ghosts.​ My conclusion is​ that there must⁠​‍ be a mysterious⁠‌ smith here who​​ can forge it,​‌‍ and if you​⁠​ know of any,‍ I’ll make a good payment.”

“Ha…”‍‍

At⁠ the words of‌ the mercenary, the‍​ old blacksmith let⁠​⁠ out a sigh‌​‍ that said a lot.

Kid,‍ what have you‌ done?

What⁠​‌ the hell have‌‍ you been doing‌⁠⁠ that you’ve turned‌‌​ a man like​‌ me into a blacksmith forging swords‌‌ that cut ghosts.​​

“Haven’t‌ you heard?”

“There’s‌‌ no such thing.”​‌

“Come​‍‍ on, go to—”‌​

“No‍ one would know​‌‌ even if you⁠​ asked.”

No​ one will know.‍‍‍

No,‍‌‍ they won’t believe‌‍‍ you.

That‌‍ the boy who​‌‍ fell with the‌‌‌ garbage that night‌‌​ created a light⁠​ that could pierce‍‌ ghosts.

That‌‌​ the sword he​‍ forged was imbued⁠ with that light.‌​

“No‍ one will ever​‍‌ know.”

“…”​

A child born in⁠ a place where‍⁠ the sun never​‍‌ shines, and a sword forged in​ a ramshackle forge‌⁠‍ that created light.⁠⁠​

The‍⁠⁠ man walked away.⁠‍‍

The‍⁠ old man stopped​‍⁠ what he was⁠⁠​ doing and sat​⁠ down, staring blankly‍⁠​ at the shop’s‍‍‌ facade.

The⁠⁠ display was a mass of mud‍ as people passed⁠ by, but the‌​‍ old man could​​ see it.

The‌‍ sad footsteps of‌ the boy who‌ always looked at​​‍ the stars.

The⁠‍⁠ boy who was‍⁠ always alert.

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