Star-Embracing Swordmaster — Chapter 285: Side Story – A Guest from Afar (2)

Chapter 285: Side Story – A Guest from Afar (2)

Nom,‌ nom, nom—

Hampton watched attentively as‌‌ the yellow mole sat on the⁠‍ table.

It was about the‍‌ size of a palm.

Its yellow fur looked‍ so soft that‍ it made you want to pet‌ it.

And‌‌ those tiny button-like‌‌ eyes shone in‌‍‍ a strange way.‍⁠⁠

At⁠ that moment, it⁠ was devouring a cabbage the size of its own⁠⁠ body.

And‍‌ the amount it⁠ was capable of‌⁠ eating was astonishing.‌‍

“So?‌‌‌ Is it eating‌‌ well?”

“Yes. It seems to⁠ like vegetables quite‌⁠‌ a lot.”

Emil‍‍ pushed forward the‌ tray he had⁠ brought along with‍‌ Hampton’s meal.

“Kyuu?”‌‍

Drawn⁠ by the smell‌ of the food,⁠ the mole showed‍‍ a bit of‌‍ curiosity.

But‌‍ the moment it‍⁠ saw what was‍ on the tray,‌ it turned its‍ head away in⁠⁠ disinterest.

It‍ seemed to have⁠‍⁠ a surprisingly demanding‌‍ palate.

“It wouldn’t even let⁠⁠⁠ me have an‌ extra sausage.”

“The⁠⁠ head cook has‌‍ always been very‍ strict about his‍‌ rules.”

“They⁠ say he didn’t‍ even give my⁠ father an extra‌‌ sausage. If even‍‌ he couldn’t get one, what am‌‌ I supposed to‍ say?”

The‍ cook had been⁠ working in Sturma⁠‌ since she was a young maid.⁠

If‌⁠⁠ she had not⁠ made exceptions for Emil’s father when‌ he was that‍ age, there was‍⁠ not much he‌⁠ could argue.

“It‍ doesn’t like peanuts,‌⁠ but it likes‌ cabbage. This thing‍‍ is seriously crazy.”‌‌‌

It‌ didn’t like meat.⁠⁠

It‍ didn’t like peanuts.⁠‌

But‌‍ it had no problem eating cabbage, carrots, and especially cucumbers.

How‌ could it possibly‌ like things like‌ that?

While‍‌‌ trying to understand‍‍ a creature that⁠‌ completely defied his⁠‌ common sense, Emil‍ continued chewing.

“What’s‌‌ this? Do you⁠⁠ have a pet‌‍⁠ now too?”

While‌⁠⁠ Emil, Hampton, and⁠ the mole were‍‍ completely focused on‌⁠‍ eating, a shadow‌ appeared before them.‌‍

“You⁠‌‌ Northerners really do⁠‌ live well. They took everything we‍⁠ brought with us.‌‌ But the Swordmaster’s⁠⁠ son even gets‍ a pet.”

It⁠⁠ was a yellow-haired‍ boy.

His‌‌ shade was slightly‌‍‍ different from Emil’s‍ blond hair.

And‍ behind him stood⁠ several boys who‌ seemed to follow‌⁠‌ him.

“Anyone‌‌‌ would think you’re‌ a prince. Though⁠ I suppose here‍ in the North,‍ you’re something close to that.”

Scrrrape.‌⁠

With⁠‌ a screech, the⁠ boy pulled out‌⁠‍ a chair and sat down across‍ from Emil.

He⁠‌‌ was at least⁠ a head taller.⁠‌‌

And he possessed that‍ refined elegance so‌ characteristic of well-educated‌ nobles.

“After‌⁠ all, your father‍‌ wields the Imperial‍ Sword. That alone‌‌ is enough to⁠‍ call you a prince, don’t you‌‍ think?”

The moment he mentioned‌‌ the Imperial Sword,⁠ the dining hall‌‌ fell silent.

Even‌⁠‌ children understood the‌ weight carried by‍ the word “Empire.”‌‍‍

Moreover,⁠⁠ among the squires‍⁠ present were both‌ commoners’ sons and⁠ sons of noble⁠‌ families.

Which meant that the‍‌‍ boy sitting across⁠⁠ from Emil was⁠⁠‌ not simply picking‍‍ a fight on‌‌ a whim.

“Renvar,‍‍ I’m eating.”

“I‍ know.”

“Have⁠ you never heard‍ that you shouldn’t⁠‌ bother even a dog while it’s‌ eating?”

At‍ those words, the‌ boy named Renvar⁠ responded with a smile.

It‍ was such a bright smile that‍ it almost seemed‌‌ refreshing.

“Of‍ course I have!⁠ That’s why I’m‌⁠‍ talking to you⁠ instead of bothering‍ you.”

Does‌‌ a dog become a lion because it bites gold?‌‌

Can‍ someone born to‍⁠ a humble mother‌ and an ill-omened‌ father become noble‌‌ simply by wielding⁠ the Imperial Sword?

Renvar had come to⁠‍ the North with‌ a mission.

As⁠‍ a distant member⁠ of the imperial‌ family and the‌‍ heir of an⁠⁠ important noble house⁠ from the center,⁠⁠‌ he considered it⁠ his duty to‍ discredit Emil.

And‍ the flaw he⁠‍ wished to attach‍‍ to Vlad Aureo’s‌‍ lineage was the‍ denial of imperial‍ legitimacy.

After⁠ all, someone who did not belong‍⁠ to the imperial‌‌ family was using⁠ the Imperial Sword‍ and wielding enormous‍⁠ influence in the⁠⁠ North.

That‌ could be interpreted as a threat‌ to the legitimacy‍ of the Crown.⁠⁠

However…‌

“Hey.‌‍ Let’s go outside.”‍⁠

“Huh?”‍

The⁠‌ problem was that‍‌ this was not‍‌ the Empire.

And‌ Emil was not‌ the kind of‍‌ person who would‍ bother trying to understand the schemes‍ of the central‍‍ nobles.

“Stop⁠ ruining my meal‌‍ with your nonsense⁠ and let’s go.”‌

Renvar‍ was bewildered.

He⁠ had never seen‍‌⁠ such a primitive‍⁠‍ reaction.

And‌⁠ then something even⁠ more terrifying happened.⁠

Huh?⁠

Why⁠ is the table‍⁠‍ flying?

“Aaaaah!!!”‍‍

“Renvar,‌⁠⁠ look out!”

A massive wooden table flew directly toward⁠ Renvar.

The‍ overwhelming weight filling his entire field‍⁠‌ of vision was‍ so unreal that‍⁠‌ the boy could⁠ only sit there‍‌‍ with his mouth hanging open.

Crash!‍‌‍

Trays⁠‍ flying.

Startled squires.

Hampton‍ clutching his own‌ tray to save‌⁠ it.

And⁠ the mole soaring⁠ through the air.

“In⁠ case you didn’t‍⁠ know, Northern dogs‍ bite when you⁠ bother them while‌ they’re eating.”

Emil⁠‍ carefully finished the‍‌ soup remaining in‌⁠ his spoon.

“Very⁠ well. Everyone who‌ came from the‌‌ center, follow me.”⁠⁠‌

Upon‌ seeing the spoon⁠‍ gleaming in Emil’s‍‍ hand, the boy‌⁠ from the Valthof‌ family sitting at‌⁠ a distant table grabbed his head⁠‌‍ with a horrified‌ expression.

“Hiiik!”‌‍

***‍

Three people were walking‍⁠ down the second-floor‌ hallway of the‌ manor.

A delicate-looking young man.‌‍

A female knight.

And⁠⁠ an older man‌⁠ with such a prominent belly that‌ it was genuinely‍ concerning.

“Please‍ don’t worry, Lord‍ Tarenian. Arriving a week or two‌ late is perfectly⁠⁠ understandable. After all, you’re coming from⁠ the distant South.‍ How could you‌‌ possibly arrive exactly⁠⁠‍ on time?”

said‍ the old man⁠‍ as he stroked⁠ his elegant mustache.‌

“Of‍‌ course, during the‍ journey, we stopped‍‍ in Soara for⁠‌ a bit of‍ sightseeing. Ah, my.”‌

Just‍ as he finished⁠ speaking, the female⁠ knight tossed him‍ a pouch.

From⁠⁠‌ the sound of‌‍ the coins clinking⁠⁠ inside, it was easy to guess⁠ what it contained.‌‍‌

“But⁠ of course, I can prove that⁠ we were delayed‍‍ because the routes‍ were blocked. I personally certify it,‌‌ Bordan, Mayor of‍ Soara.”

said⁠ the man as‌‌ he tucked the⁠ pouch away with⁠‌‌ complete naturalness.

“Ahem.”

With‍‍ that sound, the‌ plump man slipped‍⁠ the pouch of⁠‍ gold coins into‌⁠ his coat.

A greasy face and‍ a prominent belly.

It‍ was impossible to‍‍‍ imagine that this⁠ man was a knight who wielded⁠ a sword.

Bordan,⁠‍ the current Mayor‍‌ of Soara and‍‍‌ a man praised‌‌ by the nickname⁠ “The Wise Knight,”⁠‌ spoke passionately while‍‌ promising to do‍ everything in his⁠ power to justify‌ the young man’s‍ delayed enrollment.

Although⁠ every time he‌‌ finished a sentence,‍ the expressionless female‍‌ knight handed him⁠ another jingling pouch.‍

‘So⁠ this is Sturma…!’⁠

The⁠‌ two knights were‍ carrying out a silent transaction behind‍‌ him.

But⁠ the young man‍ did not seem‍ to care in the slightest.

Because he remained hanging‍⁠ over the railing,⁠ staring at the‌‍ training grounds below⁠ with excitement he‌‌‍ could not conceal.⁠

‘This⁠ is the place⁠‍ where the great‌ Sir Vlad, the Swordmaster, trained!’

He‌ was so excited‍⁠ that his light⁠‍ brown skin, typical⁠ of the South,‍ had begun to⁠ redden.

And⁠ now that one‌‌ looked closely, it was possible to‌‌ see all kinds‍‍ of souvenirs hanging‌‌ from his belt.‍

Every‌⁠‌ one of them⁠⁠ was a Vlad-related‌ product sold in‌⁠⁠ Soara.

“…Lord Tarenian. Frankly, our‍ family’s training grounds‍ look much better‌‌ than this.”

“But‍ I love this‌ sense of authenticity.”‍‍

“It’s‌‍ well maintained, but⁠ the equipment seems‍‌‍ rather old.”

“Call‍‌ it historical, Telsa.‍⁠ That makes it even better. Sir Vlad may have personally used some of these things.”‌

The⁠‍‍ female knight was‍ trying to subtly suggest that perhaps‌ they should return home.

But⁠‍ the young man⁠ was already completely‍ captivated by the‍ atmosphere of Sturma.‍‍

Anyone‌‌ could tell.

He‌ was a fanatical⁠ admirer of the⁠ Swordmaster.

“Aaaah!”‍‍

Suddenly,‌‍ a scream echoed‍ through the air,‍ and a boy⁠⁠⁠ came flying out⁠ of the training‌⁠ grounds.

His‌‍ face was drenched‍ in sweat.

Upon‌⁠‍ seeing the yellow‌ hair shining beneath‍⁠ the sun, Tarenian⁠ exclaimed,

“Look!⁠⁠‍ He’s blond! Could⁠ he be Lord⁠ Vlad’s son?”

“Oh…⁠‌‍ No, Lord Tarenian.‌ That isn’t Emil.”⁠⁠

Bordan‌‌ pulled a monocle⁠ from his jacket,‌‌ placed it over‌‌⁠ his eye, and⁠‍⁠ observed carefully.

The⁠ color was similar.⁠

But⁠‌ it lacked the‍ richness and shine‌‌ characteristic of Emil’s blond hair.

“That‍⁠ boy belongs to‌⁠ the Mordian family.‌ His name is⁠‍ Renvar Mordian. He⁠ comes from the⁠ center. He’s a member of a cadet branch of‍‌ the imperial family.⁠⁠ You see, Sir⁠ Telsa, there’s no‍ need to worry.‍ The fact that⁠‍ such a distinguished⁠‌‍ family has sent⁠‍ their son to⁠‌⁠ Sturma proves that‍ our…”

“Hey,⁠ you damned bastard!⁠‍‍ Stay right there!”‍

Bordan⁠‍‌ was in the‌‍ middle of explaining⁠ Sturma’s virtues when⁠ a loud curse‍ rang out from‌‌‌ below and caused‌⁠‍ him to stumble‍‌ over his words.⁠‍‍

“That⁠ proves that our…‌‍ that the training‍⁠ system we offer‍⁠‍ is excellent, and that the level‍ of the squires who train here⁠‌ is so high⁠ that even the‌ imperial family recognizes it…”

“Catch‌ that lunatic!”

“Don’t⁠ let him get‍‍ near the young‍ master!”

“Stop⁠ him! He’s going‌ to hit him⁠ with the spoon‌‍⁠ again!”

Bordan‌⁠ tried to salvage‌⁠ the situation with‍ his polished eloquence.‌

But⁠‍⁠ the moment he‍ saw the crowd‍‌ of squires pouring‌ out toward the⁠‍‌ training grounds, he‍‍ decided to remain⁠‍ silent.

A blond boy was‌⁠ charging forward with‌‌ a ferocity comparable‌ to that of‍ a wild animal‌‍ whose tail was‌‌ on fire.

The‍‌⁠ squires from the center chased after⁠⁠‍ him with gritted⁠ teeth.

And‌‍‌ behind them ran the Northern squires,‌⁠‍ shouting that they‌ should finish those⁠⁠ guys off once‍ and for all.

“Wow.‌ A full-scale brawl.”⁠‍

Tarenian’s⁠ description was so⁠‌‌ accurate that Bordan was left completely⁠‍ speechless.

“Then that must be⁠ Emil.”

There‌‍ was no need to ask.

There was only one‍ child moving around‌ the training grounds‌ as though it‌ were his own⁠ backyard.

He‍ was handing out⁠‍ blows to anyone‌ who came near⁠ him.

And⁠‌ he was doing⁠‌ it with surprisingly‍ vigorous energy for⁠‍‌ someone his age.‍⁠

“Oh.⁠ They’re surrounding him.”‍

The squires from the‍ center and the North mixed together‌⁠ in one enormous‌⁠ fight.

And⁠⁠ all the while,‍ Emil continued chasing‌ Renvar like a wolf cub.

Soon,⁠‍ several of Renvar’s followers began cutting‌ off his path.‌⁠

“You‍‌ damned maniac! Stop!”‌

They‍⁠ were not ordinary‍ squires.

They were practically knight‌‍ apprentices.

They‌ could not openly‌‍ bring personal retainers,‌⁠ so they had⁠ resorted to that⁠⁠ trick.

And‍⁠‌ no matter how‌‍ fast Emil was,⁠⁠‌ when four or‌⁠‍ five boys threw‌ themselves at him‍ at the same‍⁠ time, he ended‍ up surrounded and‌‌ taking a beating.⁠⁠⁠

“You⁠‌ stubborn idiot! Leave⁠ us alone already!”‍

“Let‍ go of our‌ young master’s hair!”‍

While‌‌ Emil was being‌ punched from every direction, a small⁠ yellow mass appeared atop his head.‌⁠

It‍⁠ was the mole.⁠

The‌⁠ same mole that glowed faintly beneath the sunlight.

The‌⁠‍ creature climbed onto‌⁠ Emil’s head.

Then‌ it raised both⁠ paws into the air and shouted‍‌ with all its‌ might.

“Kyuuuu!”‌

Bzzzt!‌‌

Along‍⁠ with that adorable⁠‌ cry, a golden‍ flash illuminated the‍‌ training grounds.

And‍ around Emil’s body,‌‍ golden ripples that‍ resembled liquid water‍⁠ began to appear.

“…It⁠ doesn’t hurt.”

They were hitting him.

But⁠ he felt no‌ pain.

The⁠ moment he realized⁠ that, Emil grabbed Renvar by the hair without the⁠ slightest hesitation and‌ began punching him.⁠

“Dare⁠ call me a bastard again! Come⁠‍ on, say it!”⁠

“Aaagh!‌⁠‌ You damned lunatic!”‌‌

The‍‍‌ squires struck Emil‍ with all their‍ strength, expecting him⁠ to be sent‍⁠⁠ flying.

But‌ Emil continued attacking‍ the same target with a completely‌⁠ unhinged look in‍‌‌ his eyes.

And⁠‌ atop his head,‌ the mole remained‌ motionless.

It looked like a tiny golden statue.

Watching‌‌ that scene, Tarenian‍ could not hide‍ the blush on‍ his cheeks.

And‍‌ he said excitedly‌ to the female‌‍ knight standing beside⁠‍‍ him,

“It was a great decision to come⁠‌ to the North,⁠‍ Telsa! These kids⁠ have so much⁠‍ fun!”

The knight named Telsa‍ did not answer.⁠

She‌⁠ merely pressed two fingers against the‌⁠⁠ bridge of her‌ nose while trying‌⁠‍ to suppress the⁠‌⁠ deep sigh that⁠ threatened to escape⁠‍ her lips.