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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 262: Extra 1 – The Beginning of Summer

Chapter 262: Extra 1 – The Beginning of Summer

The⁠ spring of that‌ year had been​ a very hard​ time.

Although​ the air was‌‍‍ warm, the ground‍ beneath their feet⁠⁠‍ was soaked with⁠​ blood, and the‌⁠ farmers, who should‌​ have been tilling​⁠​ their fields, were‍‌⁠ forced to wield‍‍ spears instead of⁠ plows.

It​ was a time​​ of calamities brought‍ on by the⁠‍‍ oldest dragon.

However,‍‍‌ even though the‌ land was stained‍⁠⁠ with blood, nature‌‍​ continued to bloom,⁠‌ and now, after⁠ a year had‌‌​ passed, summer was‌⁠ approaching.

“…This‍‍​ place hasn’t changed‌⁠ at all.”

The‍ western city of​ Trinova.

A person was walking‍‌‍ through the mansion,‌​ their voice resonating‌ through the air.‌‍‍

The‌⁠ girl, clad in‌⁠‌ a large cloak​‍​ she seemed to​⁠‍ have picked up⁠​ somewhere, let it‌ billow behind her⁠ as she walked.‌⁠⁠ Her hair was‌​​ green, the color⁠‍‌ of summer.

“Has‍⁠​ it been three‍‌ years?”

The​​‍ girl’s height had‍ grown significantly since⁠​​ she left, and‌⁠ she raised her‌ gaze.

But⁠ unlike her, the​‍ mansion’s landscape remained​​‌ unchanged, momentarily turning⁠ Charlotte back into‌ the child she‌ had been when‍⁠​ she left.

“…”‍

In‌​ the garden visible​​ in the distance,​ her mother was‌​‌ tending to the⁠⁠‍ plants.

If‍​ she turned the‍ corner ahead, there​​⁠ would be the⁠‍‌ training grounds where⁠‌‌ her brothers practiced.⁠​​

And​⁠⁠ if she walked‍ along the path‌​ she was currently​ on, she would​‌‌ reach the Ravnoma⁠ Hall where her‍ father had always‍ been.

“Remove​​ it.”

“Yes.”‌​

Where‌​ her father, the⁠‌ ruler of these‌ lands, used to⁠‍ sit.

However,‍ what now adorned⁠ the entrance to‍ the hall was⁠​ the faded emblem​‌ of Gaidar.

Creak!⁠⁠

The​ door to the⁠ mansion opened behind‍‍‍ the flag that​ the soldiers quickly‌⁠‌ removed.

The‍​ inside was completely⁠‌ dark, contrasting with​‍ the bright summer‍ outside, and it‌ was filled with​‌ dust and the​ foul stench of‌ death.

“…So‌‍ you’ve finally arrived,‍‌ brat.”

Sitting‌‍ in the spot‍‍‌ where her father‍⁠‌ had once sat⁠⁠​ was an unfamiliar⁠ man.

The⁠ corners of his​​⁠ mouth, where even​⁠⁠ the noonday sun​​ couldn’t bear to​​‍ shine, were drenched‌ in dark red‍‌ blood that flowed‍‌ ceaselessly.

“Sigmund​‍ Gaidar.”

The⁠​‍ enemy of her⁠⁠ father and her‌‌​ family.

And​‍‌ Sigmund Gaidar, who​​‍ would become the‌ final loser of‍ the continental war​‍‌ waged by the‌ oldest dragon.

As‍ Charlotte looked at⁠‌‌ him, there was⁠‌‍ a coldness in‍‌ her eyes that⁠ seemed beyond her‍​⁠ young age.

“Is⁠ my son dead?”⁠​

“Not‌​ yet.”

“Ha.​ That boy never‍​ listens to me.”⁠

A long sigh escaped‍⁠ his deeply bent‍‌ figure.

With⁠⁠‍ his back hunched‍‌‍ over, he let‌‌ out a heavy,⁠ deep sigh, like⁠‌ the last breath⁠‌‌ of life in‌ the twilight of‍ his existence.

“I⁠⁠​ told him he​​​ wouldn’t die well‌‌ and that he​​ should take his⁠​‌ own life.”

“Stephen’s‌‍ whereabouts have already​ been secured by​ Nidavellir, Sigmund.”

Charlotte‍​ Ravnoma walked along‍​ the long carpet​ and ascended the⁠‌ steps of the⁠‌ hall, steps that‍‍ only the ruler​​ could climb.

Before⁠‌⁠ she knew it,‌⁠ she held a sword with a black blade in​ her hand.

“So‌‌ now, it’s just‌​ you left.”

For‌​‍ Gaidar, the girl‌⁠ who had become‌ the last of​⁠ the Ravnomas might‍ have been the⁠​‍ last remaining obstacle.⁠​‍

The‍‌ tip of the⁠ sword extended abruptly,​‌‌ stopping at the‌‍ back of Sigmund’s​ neck, harshly connecting‌⁠ their worlds.

“A‌ cowardly traitor who⁠​ deceived my father.”‌​

Cough,​‌‍ cough.

“…And‌⁠​ a coward who‌⁠ refuses to pay‌ the proper price⁠‍‍ until the very‍ end.”

The⁠⁠ usurper of the​​⁠ West, who had‌⁠‌ bathed Charlotte’s mansion​‍ in blood with⁠‌ his treacherous ambush,‍‌‍ now refused to‌‍ accept his final‌⁠​ defeat, swallowing poison.‌ Charlotte frowned as‍ she watched Sigmund.‍

“Any​​‌ last words?”

“…”‍‍⁠

But​‍‍ even so, Charlotte‍ sought to fulfill‍ her duty as‍ the victor.

The‌‍ cold, gleaming tip⁠ of the sword‍ trembled as if⁠ it wanted to⁠ pierce Sigmund right⁠ then, but she‍‍‍ still attempted to‌‍⁠ uphold her duty‍‍‍ because she wanted⁠⁠​ to show that⁠ she and he‌‍ were different.

“…Heh.”⁠⁠

He‍⁠⁠ swallowed poison to​⁠ avoid dying in⁠‍ servitude, but in​⁠​ the end, he‍ was cast aside‌​​ by the victor⁠‍‌ in his final⁠‍ moments.

At⁠‌ that moment, Sigmund‍‍ was thinking of‌⁠ one man.

The⁠​ knight from that‌⁠ day who hid‍​‌ the frightened dwarves​⁠ behind his towering‍‌ presence.

“…Jorge.”⁠⁠

He‍ had been confident‌‍‍ that he would‍​‍ win, but in‌​ the end, he​‌ became the loser⁠ and lost everything.⁠

When‍‍ had it all​​⁠ started?

Was⁠​ it when his​​⁠ soldiers failed to​​​ cross Deirmar? Or⁠​ when they burned​ the Ravnoma flag?‌⁠​

“In​‍​ the end, you​⁠ stabbed me in‌⁠⁠ the back.”

No,⁠⁠ it probably began⁠ when I met‌ a boy named⁠​‌ Vlad.

From‌ the moment I met the knight⁠ of the North,‍​‍ born in the‌‌​ cold alleyways.

“…You‌ rose with the‌ sword.”

A blue sword raced‍‍ toward Sigmund’s head​ as he spat​ his final words​⁠ filled with regret.​​‌

The‌​​ name of the‌‍‍ sword now rushing‍‍ toward me is‌ Charlotte Ravnoma.

The⁠‌⁠ name of the​ knight who brought⁠ this sword here‍​​ is Vlad Aureo.‍‍‍

And‌ the one who‌ raised the sword‍‍​ was Jorge, a knight of the‌‍ courtesans who preferred⁠ mercy over duty.⁠​⁠

Swoosh!‍

From‌‌ sword to sword,‍‍ from world to‍⁠‌ world.

The‌​ girl’s sword was​‌ bringing an end​‌‍ to a long‍‍ and painful war.‌

With⁠ Sigmund’s head tumbling​‌ down the stairs.​

Spring​‌⁠ after winter.

And⁠‍ now, the beginning‌​ of a new‌‍⁠ summer.

***⁠​

“Oh​‌ lord, this never⁠​ ends, no matter⁠⁠​ how many times⁠‍ I pull them.”​⁠‌

The‌‍ scene was of⁠‍ a small rural⁠​ village filled with‌ vast fields of​ green wheat and​ rows of cottages‌‍⁠ behind them.

It‍ was a peaceful‌​​ place, with only‌ the sound of⁠​ cows mooing in‌⁠ the distance, but​‌⁠ it was also‍⁠ filled with the⁠⁠ grumbling of someone​⁠​ who didn’t quite⁠⁠​ belong.

“Will​​‌ this ever be‍⁠ done?”

The‌​ summer wheat fields,​ not yet ripe,​‍ were still green.‌⁠⁠

However,⁠‌ the blond hair‍​ peeking out from​ above had the‌ color of ripe‍⁠ wheat.

“You⁠ idiot. If you‍⁠⁠ used your hands‌‍ instead of talking,​⁠​ this would’ve been​‌ done ages ago.”⁠

“Why⁠​ is it over⁠⁠ already? There’s still‌ a lot left.”‌⁠

A man without armor​‍‍ but with a sword sheath strapped⁠ to his back,​ as if unable‌​‍ to part from‌ his blade.

Aside​⁠‌ from that, Vlad,‌‍ dressed like an‍ ordinary farmer, lifted‌ his head and​ began to look​⁠‍ around the wide​​ wheat field.

“No,‍‍ I heard you’re​⁠ supposed to use​‌ people for work‌‍ like this.”

“If‍‍ you use people,‌⁠ it costs money.”‌

“You’ve​ made plenty of‍‍‌ money. I know‍‍ I got a big share this‌​ time too.”

Beside⁠ Vlad, who continued​‍‌ to grumble, was​⁠ Ramund, with a straw hat pulled‌‍ low over his⁠ head.

He​‍ looked the part,​ as if he‍‍⁠ had been a farmer since birth,‌‍ but until last​​‌ year, he had‌ been a ruthless⁠‍‌ man, constantly eliminating⁠ enemies at the​ front of Deirmar.​⁠​

“If⁠‌‍ you spend blindly⁠‍‍ what you’ve earned,‌​⁠ you can’t avoid⁠‍​ becoming a beggar.​‌‌ Anyway, today’s youth‌⁠​ don’t know the​⁠ virtue of thrift.”​‍​

Seeing​⁠‍ Ramund click his​⁠⁠ tongue as he⁠​ said those words,‍​​ Vlad started frowning,​ as if he​​ had had enough.​

“Save⁠‌​ what you save,​‌‌ and your old⁠ body starts to​‍⁠ wither.”

“You’re‌​‌ so noisy! Anyway,​⁠‍ keep your mouth‌ shut before someone​​ calls me a city type.”

Ramund⁠​ yelled as if‍ he couldn’t take​​ it any longer.​⁠

However,‍‌ as if what​⁠ Vlad said was‌‍‌ true, the sun‌ was slowly setting⁠‍​ behind him.

“Even‍ though I was​ born in the‍ city, I know‌ that days in‌ the countryside are⁠ short, right?”

Ramund’s​‌​ estate was bathed​ in the red​ light of the‌⁠ setting sun as‍ it slowly sank​ behind the horizon.⁠‍‍

Vlad,​​ standing beneath it,‍​‍ grinned contentedly as‍ the surroundings grew‍‍‌ darker and darker.⁠​⁠

“So​ let’s stop pulling​‍⁠ weeds and go​‌ have dinner.”

“…Yes.​‍ It was my⁠ mistake asking a guy like you‌​‍ to help with​⁠ farming.”

It‍ was probably natural‍‍ to ask this⁠⁠‍ of a city⁠​⁠ man who had​‌ never worked in⁠‍ agriculture.

In‍​⁠ the end, it⁠‌ was a day​ that ended without​‌​ finishing the planned‍‍⁠ routine, only accepting​​ Vlad’s complaints.

“Let’s‍​ go. Even though‍⁠ I couldn’t pay​ you with bread,​‍⁠ I’ll at least⁠​‍ give you some​‌ soup.”

“Haha.​‍​ The food here‍ is so delicious.”​​

However,‍‍ Ramund didn’t particularly‍​ regret having let⁠‍‌ Vlad handle the​​‌ plow.

Because‌​ Vlad’s expression looked‌⁠ a bit relaxed‍​ as he set⁠​ down his sword⁠ for a moment.​‍‌

***‌​

“How‍ old are you?”‌‍

“Four‌⁠ years old.”

“…But‌ why are you​ showing five fingers?”⁠​

Underneath‍ a table full‍​ of food, a young girl proudly‍ stretched out her‍ hands, showing five‌‌‌ fingers.

“Are⁠​​ you turning five‍‌ soon?”

“No.‍‌‌ It’s been less‌‌ than a month‍‍‍ since I turned​ four.”

Even‍‌‍ though she gave⁠⁠⁠ the wrong answer,‍ her chubby cheeks‌​‌ made anyone want​ to pinch them.⁠

Ramund‌​⁠ took his youngest‍⁠​ granddaughter, sat her⁠⁠ on his lap,‌​ and spoke.

“She’s​‍‍ still young and​ can’t fold her‍ fingers the way‍⁠‌ she wants.”

“Aha.”‍

Her⁠⁠⁠ clenched fists looked‍‌ as chubby as‍ her cheeks.

It⁠​​ was clear that‌‌ she had been‌⁠ well-fed and was⁠ growing strong.

A small smile appeared‌​ on Vlad’s face‌ as he watched​ the child.

“Anyway,​​⁠ I’m glad the⁠ war ended quickly.⁠‍​ Unlike last year,​‍ it seems like‌ we can look⁠ forward to a good harvest this‍​​ year.”

Before​ anyone realized, the​ table was filled‍​ with freshly baked⁠​ white bread, brought​ in by Ramund’s⁠​‍ daughters-in-law.

It‌‌‌ was the first‍ time Vlad had⁠ tasted freshly baked​‍‌ white bread since​⁠‍ meeting Father Andreas.‍‍‍

“I​ didn’t expect the‍​ Golden Duke to‌​ surrender so quickly.”‍⁠‌

“They​ say he’s a man who prioritizes​‍ losses and gains‍​​ like a businessman,​‌​ rather than duty‍ or honor. I suppose he quickly‌⁠ calculated that victory⁠‍‍ would be hard‌‍⁠ to achieve.”

The‍ continental war, which​‌ had started with‌⁠‍ the call to​​​ arms by Sarnus,‌​‍ the Dragon-Blood Duke,‌​ was now in​⁠ its second year,‌ and the war​ itself was nearing⁠‌ its end.

At​ the beginning of‍ the war, the​ central army had‌‌ such a strong⁠⁠ momentum that it‌ seemed as if​ they would devour‍ the North, but‌ now that momentum‌ was fading like⁠⁠ a dying fire.‌⁠​

“Of⁠ course, the impact‌⁠​ of losing focus⁠‍‍ in the early​ stages of the‍ war must have​‍⁠ been significant. Thanks⁠​ to you.”

“…Well,‍​​ maybe there was‍ a reason for‌⁠ that.”

Various‌‌ races had begun⁠‍ to rise up⁠‌‍ in different parts​ of the land,⁠ alongside the fierce⁠‌ resistance in the​ North.

And‌‍⁠ though the forces​ of the Empire,⁠ who had long⁠​⁠ been oppressed by​ the central nobles,‍‌ had joined the‍ resistance, the greatest​​‍ variable was undoubtedly⁠ the duel between⁠⁠​ Vlad and Sarnus.​

“But‍​ that’s no longer​‌ important.”

A war that could⁠‍⁠ have drowned the​ entire continent in​⁠ blood had ended⁠ with minimal sacrifice,‍‍​ thanks to the​⁠ man sitting across‍ the table, who​ was now merely‌ offering breadcrumbs to‍ a dirt-covered little⁠​‌ girl.

“At‌‍ least this year,⁠⁠​ there won’t be‌‌⁠ many children going⁠‍ hungry. Isn’t that‌ right?”

“…Yes.”​

A hero of the⁠ continent, praised by‍ all.

A new swordmaster of⁠​ this era, a figure that emerged​ after the founding​‍‍ of the nation.‍‌

But‌ now, he was⁠‌ just an ordinary-looking​‍ young man, handing​ bread to a little girl.

“So,​​​ when do you​⁠​ plan on attending​ Rutiger’s succession ceremony?‍ If it were‌⁠ me, I would⁠⁠ have wanted you​‍ to be there⁠​ early.”

“I​​‍ have to go.”​

Vlad,​‍​ now eating his‍​⁠ share of the‍‍‌ bread, replied with​ a smile to​​ Ramund.

“There’s‌‌ already plenty of‍ people going to⁠‌ see it.”

“What⁠‌ are you going​‌ to do? Should​⁠ we go together?”‌

Ramund’s​‌‍ mansion was situated‍ right next to‍‌‍ the city of‍⁠‍ Varna.

Therefore,⁠​‍ he was in⁠​ a position to‌ travel directly to​​‍ Sturma, where the‍‌ succession ceremony was‍​‍ to be held,‌ but Vlad simply⁠‍‍ shook his head.‍‍

“I​⁠‌ have to pass‍‍ through Soara before‌⁠​ going there.”

“Why?​​‍ Is there really⁠ a need to‍​‌ go?”

Soara⁠⁠ was the southernmost‍⁠ city in the‌‍​ county of Bayezid.⁠⁠​

Ramund⁠ was puzzled by‍‍ Vlad’s words, but‍ after hearing the⁠ final explanation, he‍​⁠ had no choice‌​ but to nod.⁠‌

“Every​⁠⁠ time I go​‍ somewhere, I have​ to say goodbye.‌​ I promised I would do it.”⁠

“Tsk‌‍ tsk tsk. You‌​ live such a tight life.”

From‍‌ a cunning boy‌ to a young‌‌‌ man who now​ knew how to​⁠‍ smile.

That‍‍ might have been​‍​ possible because he​‍​ had a home​ he created for‌ himself, rather than‌‌ the small home⁠ he had once‍‍⁠ been forced to⁠ abandon.

“But‌ make sure you​ come before it’s⁠‌‌ too late. If‍​​ your name is‍⁠‍ worth it, it’ll‌⁠ be easier to⁠⁠ prepare if you‍⁠⁠ arrive at least⁠⁠​ a month in‌ advance.”

“Understood.”‌​​

Vlad⁠‌​ nodded at Ramund’s​‌‍ words, lifted his‌⁠‍ head for a moment, and began‌​ to take in‍ the current scene.⁠⁠

Bread,⁠ steaming soup, and‍⁠ even a child​‍ smiling at him.‌​‍

“…”⁠

These⁠ were peaceful sights⁠‍⁠ that he would​ never have dared‍ to dream of​‌⁠ before.

Yet‍ as his eyes​​ absorbed the scene,‍ Vlad couldn’t shake‌​‍ the inexplicable feeling‌ of lingering loneliness​ nestled deep in‍ his heart.

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