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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 26: The stars watch the boy (1)

Chapter 26: The stars watch the boy (1)

“They‍⁠ must be in⁠‍​ the midst of​‍​ a duel.”

Fether,​‌ walking through the‌ mansion, shook his​‌⁠ head upon hearing⁠ the sounds from‍⁠⁠ below.

“Squires.”‌

“That’s‌ what I think.”‌⁠‍

There,⁠ under the guidance​ of their instructor,​⁠‍ the squires were​‌‍ gathered, engaging in‍ duels with wooden​⁠‍ swords.

Fether⁠‌ had often seen​⁠ knights and squires⁠ training like this‌ in secret.

Fether⁠⁠‍ Bayezid, not only‍ the head of‍ the family but‌‌ also one of​ the prominent knights​‌ of the North.‍​ The fact that‌ such a prestigious‍⁠ and, for some,⁠ aspirational figure could‍‌ be seen anytime,⁠ anywhere, was a great motivation for​‍ the servants of‌‌⁠ this place.

“Let’s​‌⁠ watch for a while.”

“Yes.”​

Moreover,⁠‌ those who excelled​⁠ in training were⁠‍‍ rewarded for their​‌‍ efforts, so the⁠ knights and squires⁠ of House Bayezid‌​ always trained with​ a warrior’s mindset.⁠​‌

Everything​‌ was as Fether​​​ had anticipated.

“It’s⁠ him.”

“I‌⁠‌ heard he had‍ blonde hair.”

“It’s​​ also the first‍‌‍ time I see⁠ him, so it‍ must be him.”‍​‌

Fether‌⁠ usually glanced at​‌⁠ the training, but‌ today, he had⁠⁠ his eye on‌ a particular squire.⁠‍

“He‍​ looks promising.”

A blonde squire who‍ stood out even​ from afar.

There⁠‍ he was, the​⁠ boy brought by‌ his second son,​ the one who‍‍ always had sore​ fingers.

“Sir.​ Over there.”

Ragmus‌‍ the Advisor whispered⁠​‍ to Fether, who​​‌ was focused on‍‍​ watching Vlad.

“It’s​⁠⁠ Jager.”

“I⁠‌ guess he’s watching​​‌ too.”

Where⁠⁠‌ Ragmus pointed, there​⁠ was Jager, the​‌⁠ squint-eyed knight, looking‍​ at the blonde‌​⁠ boy with a serious expression on⁠‍ his face.

“As​​ with everything, the‌‍ first time is‌ nerve-wracking.”

Knowing​⁠ that Jager was‍​ the first of​ his class, Fether‍⁠​ could only smile⁠ silently.

“Let’s‌​‌ watch.”

The⁠ one Joseph had​‌⁠ brought, what mattered⁠‍ to Jager.

“…”‍

“He‍ looks fierce.”

Now‍‌⁠ he was down‌ there, fiercely wielding‍ his sword against⁠ a squire a head taller than​⁠ him.

“Clumsy.”‌⁠‍

“Is‍ he?”

It⁠ might not be​ visible to Advisor‌​ Ragmus’s eyes, but​⁠ Fether had recognized​ Vlad’s skill level‌​​ with just one‌ swing of his‌ sword.

“But⁠‌ he has a spark. I’m sure‍ he’ll captivate.”

“Certainly,​ there’s something in⁠ him that makes‍‍ him stand out‌‍ from the crowd.”⁠⁠

Fierce.⁠‌⁠

Fast.‌

And​‍ unwavering.

“That’s​ cool.”

“What​ do you mean?”⁠‌​

But‌‌ even more than​ those things, like‍‍‍ the talent he‌‌⁠ had since birth,⁠ Fether held in‌‌​ higher esteem another‌⁠⁠ aspect of Vlad.‌

“The‍⁠ way he tries‌​ to use what‌‌‌ he’s learned, even‌‌ if clumsily.”

Even⁠⁠​ in the midst​ of the fierce‍‍​ battle, the blonde⁠⁠‍ boy remained composed,​⁠ moving back and‍ forth, trying to‌ anticipate his opponent’s⁠‌ movements.

Trying​ and challenging.

The‍‌ boy underneath was‌‍⁠ trying to improve.​⁠‍

“It’s‍ a mess.”

The⁠‍​ movement, resembling someone’s‍ stumbling feet, was⁠ so clumsy that​‍​ it made Fether⁠⁠⁠ laugh, but he‌​‌ liked how he‍ tried to make‌ it work.

It​⁠ was the kind⁠‌ of movement that⁠‍ made you cheer.⁠​‌

“Good.”⁠⁠⁠

The​​‌ grand squire’s wooden‍ sword rose in‍⁠‌ the air.

It‌‍ was a final⁠ move, but it⁠‍ was all the‌ doing of the⁠ blonde boy.

“It’s‌‌⁠ over.”

True‍‍‌ to Fether’s words,⁠‌​ the blonde boy‌​ was now sitting⁠ on top of‍‍⁠ his opponent, punching⁠⁠ him in the​⁠ face.

He‍‍​ made him make⁠ a big move⁠‍‌ and then quickly‌⁠​ punched him in​‍‍ the stomach.

The⁠‍ movement was clumsy,​‌ but the result​‍⁠ was clear.

“Is​‌ it okay to⁠⁠ hit him like⁠​‍ that in training?”‍⁠‍

“Leave‍‍‌ him be. If‍⁠​ he’s going to‍‍ be a knight,​​⁠ he needs to​⁠ have that determination.”⁠​

Fether⁠⁠ moved from his​ halted steps and‌ stared at the‍‌ knight in the‌ distance.

The‍‍​ squint-eyed knight, looking‍‍ at his squire​ from afar, smiled⁠⁠ in silence.

***⁠

Vlad⁠⁠‌ was always the‌⁠​ first to move.⁠

He⁠‍‍ had to detect‍ and move faster‌ than anyone else⁠​⁠ to secure food​⁠‍ for the day.⁠

“Stop!‌‌ Stop!”

The‍ instructor’s call didn’t​⁠ prevent Vlad from‍‍ stopping his punches‍ in a mock‍ duel.

“That’s⁠ enough…”

“Once⁠‍ again, if you‌​ do that in‌‍⁠ front of me…”⁠‌

So⁠⁠ this time, I decided to make‌‌‌ the first move.‍⁠​

Sooner⁠⁠‍ or later there‌​‍ would be a beating disguised as‍‌‌ training.

Vlad‍‍⁠ decided it was‌ better to break⁠ the momentum than‌ to be surrounded​‍⁠ and beaten.

It‌​​ would have been‍⁠ suicidal to stand⁠⁠‌ idly by as‌ the threat approached.‍

“Answer‍‌‌ me, you bastard.”‍‍

“Okay,​‍ okay.”

Vlad’s‍‌‌ unruly behavior left‍ the man with​‍ no choice but‌​⁠ to say yes,⁠ with a frightened​​ look in his‍ eyes.

The‍ one being beaten⁠ now was the‍⁠‍ one who had⁠‍ been laughing heartily⁠ with Sovanin when⁠‌ he spat in‍⁠ the dining hall⁠‍‌ that day.

In‌‍‌ street language, he‌‍⁠ was Sovanin’s favorite​‌​ pupil.

“Stop,​​ what do you‌ think you’re doing!”⁠​

“Sorry.‍⁠‍ Got a bit⁠ carried away.”

Vlad‌‌ stepped back only⁠‌ after his instructor‌​​ shouted at him,‌​‌ but the fallen‌ one didn’t get‌ up easily.

“What‌⁠ a look!”

There‍‍‌ was definitely life‍‌ in Vlad’s eyes‌‌ as he grumbled‍‍​ to himself.

It‍ was something that‌⁠ shouldn’t have come​‍ out in a duel, and it‌ was also a raw feeling he‌ had never encountered​‍ before.

Even‍ if he closed‍⁠ his eyes, he‍‍ could still see‍ those piercing eyes‌⁠ in front of​ him, and the⁠‌ fallen squire couldn’t​ easily get up.⁠

“…”‍‌

“…”‍‍​

And‌‍ he was being‌⁠ watched by everyone⁠‌ here.

Just‌ like in the⁠‌ dining hall that‌‌ day.

Vlad,​ shaking off his‌​ seat, approached Sovanin’s‌​​ side and spoke​ quietly.

“Tell⁠​​ him I’m sorry.‍‍⁠ Once I start‍ this, I can’t⁠ control myself.”

“Damn‌ madman.”

Vlad‌​ was smiling as‌​ he spoke, so⁠‍ at first glance,‌‍ it seemed like‍‌‌ they were having​ a lighthearted joke,‍‍ but it looked‌ more like the⁠ words of a killer.

“And‌ I apologize to‍ you in advance.”⁠

Sovanin⁠ looked at Vlad‌‌⁠ with a furrowed‌⁠ brow.

Although‌⁠⁠ his face was‌‍ smiling, Vlad’s eyes​⁠ gleamed eerily.

“It‌‌ won’t end with‌⁠⁠ just that.”

“What?”⁠​

Sovanin⁠ was tense.

There‌ had never been‌ a case like​ this.

He​​ wasn’t a noble,​ but Sovanin, whose​​ father ran a fairly large business,​ was known to⁠⁠ bow down even⁠ before having the‌⁠‌ chance to intimidate​​ them.

But‍​⁠ this bastard was…​

“You​ can expect it.”⁠⁠​

This‍‌​ damn guy.

Sovanin⁠‌​ thought sincerely as‌⁠ he looked at⁠​ Vlad, who was​‍ smiling.

Joseph‌⁠​ brought in a stray dog from​⁠‍ the alley.

“I’ll‍ call you when‌‍​ I get bored‍ of liver soup,‌ and I want‍ you to come‍ and spit on‍⁠ him.”

The⁠‌⁠ stray dog laughed‍⁠ in Sovanin’s eyes.⁠⁠​

Sovanin⁠​ swallowed hard at‍ Vlad’s smile.

Stray​ dogs don’t hesitate‍ to bite people.‌‍

***⁠

“Captain,‌⁠ are you okay?⁠⁠‍ Did any of⁠ the other guys‌​​ do anything to⁠ you?”

“I’m⁠⁠⁠ doing fine these‍ days, and I’ve‌⁠ been using the‍‌ bathroom to avoid​⁠ the snow.”

“…Doesn’t‍ sound like something⁠ good, right?”

Vlad‍‌ could only shrug‌ at Goethe’s comment.‍‍

“After⁠⁠ all, I’ve been​⁠‍ beating up the​‌ squires.”

Goethe‌‍⁠ looked at Vlad‌⁠ and shook his​⁠⁠ head.

“I’ve‍ hit three on‍ the first day,‍⁠ and the others​ keep their distance…”​‍

“It’s⁠⁠ a survival rule‌‌ that if you’re‍ going to fight,​ it’s better to‌​ strike first.”

Truly‍ from the streets,‍⁠‍ Goethe thought as⁠‍ he looked at‌​‍ Vlad.

Shortly⁠ after the incident​ in the dining‍‍‌ hall, Vlad had‌ shown an action⁠⁠ speed that surprised‌ Goethe.

Vlad⁠‌‍ had befriended Sovanin​ among the squires,​⁠ had picked out‍ those being disrespectful,‍ and then, like​‌ a wolf to⁠​ a lamb, had⁠​ gone after them‌‍ one by one​‍ and crushed them.⁠

In‌⁠ the restrooms, in​⁠​ the bathrooms, in‍⁠​ the dim hallways‌​ of the mansion.‍‍

Anyone​​‍ left alone just​ had to face‌ Vlad’s piercing gaze.‌⁠‍

Jorge⁠‌ had said.

If​⁠ you beat him‌‌‍ enough, he’ll crawl.‍‌‌

“That’s​‌ a crime.”

“I’m⁠ a criminal by⁠⁠ nature. I’m actually​ quite good at‌⁠‍ assaulting people, and​ I don’t mind‌‌ hitting people in​ the face.”

“Oh,‍​ you did.”

Goethe⁠⁠ nodded, listening to‌ Vlad’s words.

He‍‍ had briefly mistaken⁠‍ Vlad for a normal guy, as‍​⁠ he had been‍⁠ mingling with a group of guys⁠​⁠ his age, but‌​‌ Vlad wasn’t older​‌ than seventeen, and‍⁠‌ he had gone‍‍ through the toughest​⁠ environment of mercenaries.‍‍

“You⁠ have to hit‌‌ them until they‍​‍ feel like they’re‍‌⁠ going to die.”⁠‍

“That’s‍‍ what they do.”‍

Before​​‌ I knew it,‌‍ they were inside‍ the dining hall.‍

There⁠​⁠ sat the squires,⁠ pretending not to⁠​ see Vlad, and​‍‌ the servants, who‌‍ had already been‍‍ beaten and dared‌​ not look at‍‍‍ him.

“Look​‍⁠ at him. It’s⁠⁠‌ nice not to‌ be touched.”

“…Sausages‍ for today’s lunch.”‌

Happy‍ to see meat,‌​​ Vlad hummed and‍‌⁠ picked up his‍‌‌ plate.

And‍‌ as he walked‍ away, smiling, there‍​‍ was someone who⁠ watched him closely.​‍‍

“One⁠‍ more.”

It‍‌ was Vlad who⁠ had smiled and​‌‌ asked for more‌​​ sausages at the​‌​ table, but the‍⁠‌ maid in front‌‍‌ of him was‌ a middle-aged servant‌ with strong bones⁠ from the Bayezid‌‍‍ family.

“So⁠‌ the person behind​‌‍ you can’t eat.”‌

“He‌ can’t?”

“No…”⁠⁠‌

Seeing‍​‌ the middle-aged maid‌ refusing with a firm look, Vlad​‌ was forced to‌⁠ step down from⁠‍​ the table.

“If‍ it weren’t for‍ Joseph, I would‍​ have collapsed.”

Despite⁠ his slim appearance,‌ Vlad had a voracious appetite.

It⁠‌ was like a natural instinct, engraved‍⁠‌ in him by⁠ the place where‌‍ he was born.‍‍

Vlad‌ and Goethe sat​‍‍ at the table,​ disappointment on their‌‌‌ faces after the​‍‌ negotiation failed.

“But​‍​ it’s better here.”​

“Better‌⁠​ than when we‍ were mercenaries. Don’t​​ you think, Captain?”⁠‌​

They‌ picked up their‌ utensils and were‌‍‌ about to bring​ the food to‍‌ their mouths.

“Oh,‍​​ H-hi.”

Someone​⁠‍ said awkwardly in‍ Vlad’s direction.

“What⁠ are you…”

Vlad‌​ slightly frowned, wondering‍ if this time‌ he was going‍‍‌ to get into‌‌​ a fight, but‍⁠‌ the guy sitting‌​​ in front of⁠​⁠ him didn’t seem​‍ like the type⁠‌ to do that.⁠‌‌

Short‍ stature, chubby cheeks,‍​ and eyes buried​ in the flesh‍⁠ and hard to‍ see.

“I’m​​‌ Portly, Portly Kannor.”‍

Sorry‌​ to think about⁠‌‍ it, but it‌ seemed like you​⁠ could roll him⁠⁠ if you pushed‍ him.

“Alright.‍ What can I do for you,‍ Portly?”

“That…”⁠‌

Vlad⁠‍⁠ slightly frowned.

The‌‍‌ way the man⁠ hesitated with the‌‍ plate in front‍‌ of him didn’t‍ look good, and‍ by the way‌‍⁠ he fidgeted, it⁠ seemed like it​‍ would take him‍ a while to​ pronounce the words.⁠

“Sit‌‍‍ or get lost.”​‍

“Huh?”‍

“Don’t‌‌ stand in front⁠​ of me with‍​ your stomach in‌ a knot.”

Those⁠⁠‍ were harsh words,‍​ but Portly’s face⁠ lit up as‍ if he had⁠ taken Vlad’s words‍​​ as an invitation⁠‍‌ to sit.

“Thanks⁠⁠ for telling me‌​ to sit.”

“…”‌‌⁠

Vlad⁠ looked at Portly⁠⁠‌ with a “What‌‌⁠ the hell!” expression,‌ but he smiled‍ shyly and decided‍⁠​ to focus on‌ his lunch for‍ the moment, as​‍ he didn’t want‌ to kick the‍⁠⁠ guy out of‌‌⁠ his seat.

“I’ve‌‍ been eating alone​​ all the time.‍​⁠ In fact, I’ve‍​ been eating alone‍‍ in the bathroom.”‍‍

“Right​⁠​ now, you’re eating‍‌‌ in…”

From‌​⁠ this dialogue, Vlad⁠‍ realized that the​⁠​ bully had been⁠​ this guy before‍‍⁠ him.

“Good⁠​⁠ sausage, huh?”

“Shut‌ up and eat‍​⁠ it.”

Still,‍⁠​ there was no‍ reason to worry.‍

“Eat‍⁠ this too.”

Watching​‌​ Vlad disappointedly scream‍ as he put‍ in his mouth‌ the only sausage​‍ he had, Portly​ carefully slid his‍‍​ own into Vlad’s‌⁠‌ plate.

“What‌ are you doing?”​

Vlad‍ longed for anything⁠⁠​ within his reach,‍​ except for vain⁠ pity and dubious‍⁠ favors.

But‌‌ even under Vlad’s‌​‌ piercing gaze, Portly‌‍‌ continued cautiously.

It‍⁠‍ was like an​⁠ employee dealing with‌​‍ a challenging customer.‌‍

“You⁠‍ don’t think I’m…”‍

“These⁠‍ sausages… my father⁠ is the distributor.”‍⁠

“…What?”‍​​

Portly’s⁠​ behavior had been‌⁠ gruff since the⁠⁠‍ bullying, but when‌ he talked about⁠​‍ his father, he‍‍​ sounded confident.

“The⁠​ last I heard,‌ he wanted more‌ sausages.”

“Yeah,⁠⁠‍ he wanted.”

“You‍​ know what, sausage‌​⁠ is a preservative,‍​​ so it’s as⁠​‌ good a commodity‌⁠‍ as jerky, if⁠‍ not better, for​‍‌ mercenaries with money.”‍‍⁠

“And?”‍‍

Vlad⁠ was starting to​‌⁠ get annoyed with‌‍‍ the unfocused dialogue.​‌‍

“So‍ my father sends⁠⁠ me a bunch‌​ of things to​​‍ eat.”

Portly⁠‌ laughed, saying that​ he had a lot of sausages‍ and cured meats​​‍ in his room⁠‍‍ from his father.‍

“It’s‌‌‍ too much for‍​ me to eat​‌ alone, so do⁠⁠‍ you want me‍⁠ to share some‌ with you?”

“…”⁠

Vlad‌‌ thought.

I’ll⁠⁠ never be as⁠ good as Priest​​ Andreas, but I’ve⁠⁠ come this far,​ so I might‌ make some connections.‌

I can’t help the‍⁠‌ ones I’ve already‍​⁠ pretended to be,‍ but if I get to know‍ some people here,‍‍​ it might help​​ me later in⁠‍​ life.

“Yes.”​‌

The​ son of a butcher from a family large enough​‌ to supply the‌⁠ Count’s family must‌​‍ have some usefulness.‍

Not⁠ necessarily for the​‌ sausages, Vlad thought.⁠‍

***‍‍

In⁠ front of Portly’s‌‌ room, Vlad and​‍ Goethe were left​‍ dumbfounded.

“Why‍​​ is this here?”⁠​

“To​‌⁠ become a squire.”‍‌​

“You’re​⁠ not even a knight, just a squire?”

“Yes.​ I’m not going‌‍‍ to be a knight, and my‌ father didn’t expect‌‌ much from me.‌‌ He just wanted​‌⁠ me to come​ here and make​‍​ some connections.”

Portly​⁠ smiled shyly, as⁠ if that hadn’t⁠⁠ worked out, but‍ Vlad and Goethe‌‌‌ saw none of‌‍​ that in his​ eyes.

The‍⁠ room was filled⁠⁠ with sausages and⁠‌‌ cured meats.

Vlad​​‍ smirked ironically at​‌ the room, devoid‌‌ of someone aspiring‌ to be a squire.

This⁠​‌ guy shouldn’t be‍​ here.

“Do‌​‍ you want to‌ eat with me‍‍‍ tomorrow…?”

“Really?‌ Are you going⁠ to do that?”‌‌

If‌‌‌ so, there’s no​‍ need to condemn​ them to ostracism.⁠​

Vlad’s​ eyes lit up‌​ as he looked‍‍‍ at the sausages‌​‌ hanging like decorations.‍​‌

“Bring‌​‍ me the sausages⁠‌ instead.”

Portly’s‍ sausages weren’t the‍ kind of thing​ that would make​⁠ you sick.

In‌​​ more than one‍‍‍ sense.

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