Star-Embracing Swordmaster — Chapter 288: Side Story – What Do You Want to Become? (3)

Chapter 288: Side Story – What Do You Want to Become? (3)

“So⁠ all the rabbits‍‌‍ died?”

In‌⁠‌ a small inner‍⁠‌ courtyard beside the head of the⁠⁠ family’s office.

In‌ that hidden corner‌⁠‌ of the manor,‌‌⁠ the heavy whistle of a sword⁠‍ echoed through the‍⁠ air.

“It’s⁠ quite frightening when‌ you put it⁠ that way. It’s‌⁠ even giving me‌ chills.”

Whoooom—‌ Wooooom—

It‌‍ was a sword‍‍⁠ that looked absurdly‌‍ heavy.

A training weapon forged without any concern‌⁠⁠ for practicality, using‌ enormous amounts of‍ steel solely to increase its weight.‌

Rutiger’s⁠‍ muscles swelled to⁠‌⁠ their limits as‌‌ he wielded that gigantic sword with‌ a single hand.

“As⁠‍ I recall, Emil’s‍‌ sister never reached⁠‍‍ that level.”

At⁠‌ Rutiger’s observation, Jager,‌‍ who was drinking⁠‌ tea beside him,⁠‌ nodded.

Emil’s⁠ sister, who had‌⁠ arrived two years‍‍ earlier, had certainly⁠‌‌ not been like‍‍ this.

Though⁠ that did not‌ mean training her⁠‍⁠ had been easy.‌

“What⁠⁠‍ if we assigned‌‌‍ a knight exclusively⁠‍ to him? Right⁠ now, Sir Ramund⁠ is even here…”⁠

“No.”‍

Whoooom—‍‌

Rutiger‍ immediately rejected Cade’s⁠‌ suggestion.

His response was so⁠ firm that it‌ made it clear‍ he had no intention of discussing‌ the matter.

“If all we wanted‍ was to train⁠ a swordsman, then‌ you would be⁠ right. But what‍ we want to‌‌ train is a knight.”

If the goal were⁠‍ merely to develop⁠ skill with a sword, Cade’s proposal‌‍‍ would make sense.‍‍⁠

But Rutiger did not‌‌‌ want Emil to‌‌ grow up simply‍⁠ as someone who‌‍ knew how to‌⁠⁠ wield a sword.⁠‌

“The‌ North must be‌ protected. And what⁠ is it that we must protect?‍‌ For what things‍ do we raise‍‌⁠ our swords?”

What must be protected?‌‍

What‌‍ is important?

What possesses true value?‍⁠

What⁠ is good, weak,⁠⁠ young, and vulnerable?⁠⁠

“To‍ discover those answers⁠⁠ for himself, he⁠⁠ needs to interact⁠⁠‌ with other people.‌⁠ Children usually discover‍‍ who they are⁠⁠ through their relationships.‍‍‌ It is an‍⁠ area that we⁠ adults cannot teach.”⁠

Every‌‍ genuine life begins‍ with an encounter.‍⁠‌

When‍ you and I meet, our world‌⁠ becomes broader and⁠‍ deeper.

Rutiger‍⁠‌ wished to pass‌‍ on something more⁠ valuable than mere‌ techniques.

Not‍‍ only to Emil.‌‍⁠

But⁠ to all the squires who came⁠ to Bayezid.

“Why⁠ is no one‍‌‍ answering? Don’t you‌⁠ think you can handle it?”

The‍ shoulders of the⁠ assembled knights trembled.⁠‍

Because they were ashamed‌⁠ that they had‌⁠ tried to choose⁠ the easy path,‌ even if only‌ for a moment.⁠⁠

“Protect the potential of the young, knights.‍ We are Bayezid.”‌

And⁠‍ with those words,⁠⁠ Rutiger raised the⁠ heavy sword once more.

“Bayezid‍ never negotiates with‍‍ a child’s potential.”⁠

Whoooom—⁠

The⁠⁠ burst of air struck their ears.⁠

That‌⁠ sound conveyed far⁠ more than ten speeches ever could.‌‍‍

And‍ the knights lowered⁠‌ their heads before‍ silently withdrawing.

***‍‌

“Is⁠‌ that what you⁠ call holding a shield?! My eighty-year-old⁠ father would hold it better than‌ you!”

“That‍ thing you threw⁠⁠ wasn’t a dagger! It was merely‍‍ a hope of⁠ hitting something! Open‌ your eyes when‌⁠ you throw something,‍‌ you damned optimist!”

“I‍‍‌ told you to⁠⁠ stop crossing your⁠‍⁠ feet when you‍‌ move! Did you‍ come here to‍⁠‍ dance? Or did‌ you come here to flirt with‍⁠ girls?”

“Wow…”⁠⁠

The‍⁠ squires could barely⁠ react to the‍ knights’ constant shouting.‍

The⁠ instructors seemed possessed‌ by a completely different energy.

Compared⁠ to the previous⁠‍‍ day, the intensity‍ had increased dramatically.‍

And⁠ the boys were‍‌ beginning to resemble‍⁠ dead fish.

“What’s⁠‌ wrong with the⁠⁠ knights all of⁠ a sudden? Did‍‍ they eat something‌ weird?”

“I‌ don’t know. They‌ keep shouting that Bayezid doesn’t negotiate.”⁠‍

“The⁠‌ old men of‍‌‌ the North are⁠‍⁠ completely insane…”

Shields.‍

Thrown‍⁠ weapons.

Hand-to-hand⁠‌⁠ combat.

The⁠‌ training continued without‌‌⁠ rest.

And‌‍⁠ little by little,⁠ the souls of‌⁠⁠ the squires seemed⁠‍ to leave their bodies.

It had been so‍ exhausting that the⁠ chaotic fight from‍‌ the previous day had already vanished‍ from their minds.‍⁠

Thanks⁠ to that, the‌⁠ relationship between Emil and the other‌‌⁠ boys was gradually‍ returning to normal.⁠‌

“Attention,‌ everyone! I will‍⁠⁠ now demonstrate mounted‌‍ lance combat!”

Hiiiiiih!⁠‍

It⁠⁠ was time to⁠⁠‍ learn horsemanship.

And‍‌⁠ while the other‍ children lay exhausted⁠‌ on the ground,⁠‍ Emil was the only one whose‌ eyes still shone‌‍ with excitement.

Because‍‍ he still believed‌ that among so‍ many horses, there⁠ had to be‌ at least one‍‌⁠ willing to carry‍ him.

“No.‍‌⁠ No. Not you,‍ Emil.”

But‍‌ reality was much⁠‌ colder than his‌ dreams.

“Why⁠ not? I can‍‍ do it well.”‍

“Are you really asking‌ me that?”

Sovanin,⁠‌‌ the knight in charge of horsemanship,‍ frowned when he⁠ saw the innocent expression Emil was‍ pretending to wear.‍

“The horses won’t even‌ go near you.⁠‌‍ The lesson can’t‌‍ start while you’re here.”

We’re not going to⁠ negotiate with your‍ education.

But‌‌⁠ there are things‍‌ that simply aren’t‌⁠ possible.

And⁠ we’re not foolish enough to force‌⁠ them.

“Even‍ so, don’t you think that among⁠‌‍ all of them‌⁠ there’s at least‍‌ one that would‌‍ get along with⁠ me?”

“No.”⁠

“And how can you⁠ be so sure?‌ There might be⁠ one.”

Realizing‌‍ he was not⁠‌ going to convince‌ him, Emil’s eyes‍‌⁠ began to narrow.‍

That‌⁠ irreverent look made⁠‌ Sovanin remember certain‍ events from the⁠‍ past.

And‌ a chill ran⁠‌⁠ through his body.‌‍‌

“Vlad…‌ I mean, Squire‍⁠ Emil. During this⁠‌ lesson, you’ll be‍ learning something else.‌ Those are direct‍ orders from the commander.”

Your‍ father couldn’t do‌‍ it either.

And‌ you think you can?

Sovanin‌‍‍ remembered perfectly the⁠‍ chaos Vlad had‌ caused twenty years earlier whenever horsemanship‌ lessons came around.‍‌

That‌ was why he⁠‍‍ was not influenced‌‌‌ in the slightest.⁠⁠

“Now.‌ Right. Out.”

“Tch.”‍‍‌

Sovanin‍⁠ pointed toward the‌⁠ exit of the‌ training grounds with‌⁠ absolute firmness.

And⁠‍ Emil got up⁠‍ with obvious displeasure.‌‌

“How‍‌ lucky you are,‍⁠ Emil. Take me‌ with you.”

“Uuu…⁠‌⁠ Northerner without honor.”‍‌

Hampton⁠ and Tarenian, covered‌ in dirt from‌‌⁠ head to toe,⁠⁠ looked at Emil‍⁠ with envy.

The⁠‍ training had been‌ so brutal that‌‍ even Renvar, who‍ normally would have⁠ taken the opportunity⁠‌ to provoke him,‌⁠⁠ merely stared at him with an empty expression.

“Damn‍ it. What if⁠ I really never⁠ learn how to‍ ride?”

As‍ he walked away,‍ Emil glanced back‍‍ toward the training‍‌⁠ grounds with an expression full of‌ longing.

“Even‌ a sack of‍ potatoes would ride⁠‍⁠ better than you, idiot!”

“I’m‌⁠‌ so jealous…”

Those‍‍‍ who were training‍⁠ were suffering.

But‍⁠‌ Emil was suffering‍‍ even more while‌‌‍ watching them.

At⁠ this rate, he‍⁠ might die without⁠‍ ever riding a horse even once.⁠

While⁠ everyone else rode⁠⁠‌ majestically, he would end up running‌‌‍ behind them swallowing‌ dust.

‘What‌ a disaster.’

Emil’s‌‌‌ shoulders slumped as‌ he sighed.

“Hehe.⁠ How is it that such a small child sighs‍⁠⁠ as though he⁠ carries all the‌‌ problems of the‍ world?”

“Huh?”‌⁠‍

As‌‍⁠ he walked along dejectedly, someone spoke‌ to him with‍‌⁠ a laugh.

“You‌⁠ look like an‍⁠⁠ old man carrying‍ all the worries⁠ of existence.”

“Grandpa!”‌

Emil exclaimed as he‍‌ immediately recognized that⁠ voice.

The‌ person waiting for‌ Emil was Ramund.⁠‌

He⁠‌‍ was not wearing⁠ his usual comfortable⁠ clothes, but a leather armor befitting⁠‍⁠ a knight.

Although‌‌ it was not‌ steel armor, the⁠‌ natural dignity of a knight emanated‍‌ from him even⁠‍ at more than‌ eighty years of age.

“Come‍‌ on. Didn’t you⁠ say you wanted‍⁠⁠ to learn Body‍‌ Reinforcement? I assure‍‍ you it’ll be‌⁠‌ more fun than‌ mounted lance combat.”⁠⁠

Hearing‍⁠ that it would‌ be more fun than mounted lance⁠‌ combat, Emil nodded‌ vigorously.

He‌ would learn to‍ ride a horse⁠⁠‌ later.

But‍ even he knew⁠ that opportunities to‍‍⁠ learn such an⁠ advanced technique did⁠‍ not come around⁠⁠ every day.

***‍⁠

Body⁠ Reinforcement.

Ramund’s‌‌ personal secret technique⁠⁠ for strengthening the‌‌‌ body through aura.⁠⁠

Unlike⁠‌ ordinary knights, who⁠ channeled aura through‌ their swords, his‍ approach was so⁠ unique that even‍‍ the founding king,‌ Kihano Frausen, had‌‌‍ acknowledged it.

“No,⁠ no. I told‌‍ you to block‌ using your joints!”‌⁠

Smack!‌‍ Smack!

Ramund’s⁠ arm, wielding a rod, left afterimages‌ as it moved.‍

It‍ was impossible to‌⁠ believe that speed‍‍ belonged to a man over eighty‍ years old.

“It‍ hurts! It hurts,⁠‌ Grandpa!”

“Of‍ course it hurts! That’s why I’m‌ telling you to‌ block!”

Of‍‍ course it was⁠ going to hurt.⁠⁠

Because‍‌ aura was flowing from Ramund’s left‌ eye.

To pressure a young‌ and agile Emil‌ with his aged‌ body, he needed‍‍ the support of‌⁠ aura.

“What‌ kind of Body‍‌ Reinforcement is this?! You’re just hitting‌⁠ me!”

He‍‍ was supposed to‌‍ be teaching him⁠⁠ Body Reinforcement, yet⁠‌ all he seemed‌⁠ to do was‌‌‌ attack him.

Emil⁠‍ had seen that‌ technique before thanks‍ to his father.‍

And‍ he knew perfectly‍‌‍ well that it⁠⁠‍ looked nothing like‍ the impressive ability⁠ he remembered.

“You⁠ brat! This is‍ exactly what Body‍⁠ Reinforcement is! The essence of the‌‍ technique is learning‍ how to take‌ hits without them‌‌ hurting!”

But the original creator‍‍ was just as‍ frustrated.

As⁠ sad as it‍⁠ sounded, the technique‌‌ had been born‌‌⁠ precisely from trying‍ to find a way to suffer⁠ less when getting⁠ hit.

“If‍‌ you’re attacked from‌ every direction, not‌ even a Swordmaster‌⁠‍ could withstand it!”‍

During‌‌ his years of‍ glory, Ramund had⁠‍ been known as‌ the Unbreakable Vanguard.‍

He‌‍ had always stood‍ on the front‌‍ lines.

He⁠⁠ had been stabbed,‍ slashed, and beaten⁠ countless times.

And‍⁠‍ when a person‌ was pushed to the limit again‍‌‍ and again, he‍ inevitably began to‍⁠ think.

“That’s⁠ why you must‍‍ form a triangle⁠ with your stance‌‍ and present the‍⁠ hardest part of‌⁠ your body.”

Thus,‌ the mitigation stance was born.

Ramund⁠ called it the‍⁠ triangle stance.

Whenever‌‍ an attack came,⁠‍‍ the toughest part⁠ of the body‌‍ had to be‌ presented forward like⁠⁠ the tip of‌ a triangle.

“And what happens when⁠‌ you form a triangle? First, you‌⁠‍ reduce the area of impact. And⁠‌ then? Since the⁠‌ part being presented‌⁠ is usually a joint, you can‍‌ naturally connect it⁠ into your next⁠ movement.”

Reducing‌ a surface into⁠‍ a point to⁠ disperse force.

Absorbing⁠‌ an incoming attack and turning it‍‌ into an offensive‌⁠⁠ opportunity.

A stance that mitigated⁠ damage through convergence‌ while combining defense⁠‌‍ and offense.

His‌ explanations were crude,⁠‌‌ but this was⁠ a genuine revelation born from countless‌⁠ life-and-death situations.

“That’s‍ why you need‍‍ to learn how⁠ to take hits‌ properly. Only then⁠⁠ will you have‍ the chance to strike your enemy.”⁠

Ramund cleared his throat⁠‌ proudly after sharing‌‌ that invaluable lesson.‍⁠

However,⁠ Emil was barely‍ listening.

His‌‍ eyes were filled⁠⁠ with tears as‍ he rubbed the‌‌‌ sore spots.

“Instead‌⁠ of this… my‍ father would become‍⁠ much stronger and‍ things like that.”‌

Grandpa,‍‌ I don’t understand all those complicated‌ things.

Just⁠‌‌ teach me how⁠‍‍ to become strong.

“Haaa…”‍

Ramund‍‌⁠ sighed as he⁠‍ watched Emil grumbling‌ with puffed-up cheeks.‍‍⁠

‘To‌ begin with, he still can’t use‌‍‌ aura…’

Although‍‍⁠ he seemed like‌‍ a spoiled child,⁠ his complaints were‌‌⁠ understandable.

After⁠ all, Ramund’s method‍ consisted of getting‍ hit until you⁠ understood it.

Even⁠‍ as training, it‍ was far too‌‍ harsh an approach⁠‍ for a boy⁠‌⁠ barely thirteen years‌⁠ old.

‘His⁠‌⁠ father had at⁠⁠ least already awakened aura when he⁠ learned it.’

Vlad‌ had learned—or rather‌ stolen—Body Reinforcement after awakening his aura.‍‍

In‍‌ addition to his talent, he had⁠‍‍ already mastered the‌ fundamentals of aura‌‍ control.

That was why he‌ had learned it‌ so quickly.

And⁠‌ back then, Vlad‍‍ had been around⁠ seventeen years old.⁠

Compared⁠ to the little‍ boy standing before‍‌‍ him, the conditions⁠ had been much⁠ more favorable.

“Becoming stronger can wait‍ until you awaken‍‌ aura. For now,‌‌ learn the fundamentals.”‍⁠

But⁠⁠ there was no alternative.

Because I don’t have‍ time to wait‌⁠ for you to‍ grow up.

“Aaah! It hurts! Grandpa,⁠‍ it hurts!”

Seeing Emil writhing in‍⁠ pain hurt Ramund⁠ as well.

If⁠‌ he had been a more intelligent⁠ person, he might‌⁠ have been able to turn his‌‍ experience into theory‍ and design better‌ training methods.

But‌⁠ that was not‍⁠⁠ his talent.

He‍‌‍ had simply devoted his entire life‌ to surviving.

“Endure a little longer,‌ brat! All of‍‌‍ this will become⁠‍‌ blood and flesh⁠ someday!”

Ramund⁠ truly believed this⁠‌ would help him‌ in the future.⁠

It‍ was a valuable‌‍ technique that might‍‌⁠ one day save‌⁠ his life when⁠⁠‌ he found himself⁠ between life and⁠ death.

That⁠ was why he‌ kept trying to⁠‌ engrave his teachings‌‌ into Emil’s body⁠‍ no matter what.‌‌⁠

“Grrr…”‌

After‌ dozens of strikes.‍

Just‍ as tears began⁠ rolling down Emil’s⁠ cheeks and falling⁠ to the ground.‌

An‍ animalistic growl emerged⁠⁠⁠ from his chest.‌‌

“Kyu!⁠‍ Kyu!”

With‍ the sound of⁠‍⁠ shifting cloth, a yellow creature suddenly‌ poked its head‍ out from inside‍ his clothes.

The‌ mole.

Squeezing‌ its button-like eyes‍‍‌ tightly shut, it‍‍ shot an accusatory‍⁠ glare at Ramund‍‍ before raising both‍ arms.

“Kyuuuu~~~!”⁠

Bzzzzing!⁠‌

“What‌⁠ the hell?!”

An‍ instant later, a golden wave swept‌ across the small‌ training ground.

It shone so brightly‍‌⁠ that it could even be seen‍⁠ from the area⁠ where mounted lance‍ training was taking‌‍‍ place.

Upon⁠ seeing that light,‍ Renvar involuntarily shuddered.⁠

“What‌ is this…?”

Thus,‌ a shining boy‌ was born.

And‌ a mole completely‍⁠ motionless like a statue within his chest.

Seeing⁠⁠ the child blessed‍ by a spirit,‍ Ramund’s eyes widened.⁠

“…It‍‍ doesn’t hurt anymore. It really doesn’t⁠‍⁠ hurt anymore.”

The‌‌ blond boy stood‌ wrapped in a gentle yellow light.‍⁠⁠

With‌ tears still gathered in his eyes⁠ and his nose‌ sniffling.

Exactly‌ the same child‌ Ramund had known⁠ since he was‍⁠ small.

“Look⁠ at this! When‍ the mole does‍ this, the body‍ becomes tougher.”

But⁠ what was this‍ pressure he was‌ feeling?

Ramund‌‌‍ had stopped breathing.⁠‍

And‍⁠‌ without realizing it, he was searching‍ for his sword.‌

The‌‌ instinct of a knight who had⁠ spent his entire‌ life on battlefields‍ forced him to‍ react that way.⁠

“That’s‌⁠‌ why the other‍⁠‌ time, when I fought those boys from the Center…⁠ Grandpa?”

Those‌⁠⁠ innocent eyes looked‍ at him in confusion.

But‍‌ behind that pure gaze lay an‍‌⁠ inheritance that could⁠‌ not be denied.‌‌

“Grandpa,⁠ are you okay?”⁠⁠

Do‍‍‍ you want to become tough?

Do⁠ you want to‍ stop getting hurt?

Then⁠‍‌ simply do it.‍‌⁠

Because⁠‍ you were born⁠⁠‍ for it.

“…Emil.”‍‌

The⁠⁠ desire to become‌ stronger.

And‍ the spiritual blessing‌‍ capable of fulfilling⁠ that desire.

The‌⁠‍ instant those two⁠ elements came together,‌⁠⁠ a possibility capable⁠‌ of becoming the⁠⁠ toughest existence in the world began to bloom within‍‌‍ Emil’s eyes.

His‍⁠ pupils, split vertically‍ like a dragon’s,⁠‍‌ seemed to proclaim‌‍ exactly that.