Indra Translations
Navigation
Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 289: Side Story – The Song of the Forgotten (1)

Chapter 289: Side Story – The Song of the Forgotten (1)

Gray​⁠​ rain had covered​​‌ the skies of​‍ Sturma since early‌‍⁠ morning.

Despite​​‍ it being summer,⁠​‌ the rain of⁠⁠ the North held‌⁠ no warmth and‌ struck the black‌ stones of the⁠‌​ wall like sharpened‌ needles.

“Since​​‌ this morning, I already feel depressed.”‍‌

In‌⁠ the meeting hall,‌​ where only the⁠ sound of rain‌‍ striking the windows⁠ could be heard,⁠ Rutiger Bayezid reclined‍‌ in his chair,​ silently observing the‌ gloomy landscape.

“Even​⁠ so, work must​​‌ continue. Begin your‌‌ reports.”

A map of the‌ North lay spread​‌‌ across the long‍ table.

In​ times of war,⁠ it would have‍⁠⁠ been a strategic⁠‍​ map, but in⁠ that era of⁠ peace it was⁠⁠ little more than‌‌ decoration.

“Yes,⁠ Count. I’ll begin⁠ with Soara.”

It⁠ was the Bayezid⁠‌⁠ family’s regular reporting⁠​‌ meeting, held twice‌​​ a year.

Mayors,‍‍ vassals, knights, and‍​‌ merchants acting on⁠‍⁠ behalf of the‌⁠‍ family were present.​​​

As‌⁠⁠ Rutiger listened to​​ their reports, his‍⁠‍ brow gradually furrowed.⁠

“…Lately​​⁠ there have been⁠‌⁠ occasions when magical​⁠‍ telegrams did not‌ function properly. According‌​​ to the mages‌ in charge, there‍​‌ is no problem‌‌ with the magical‍ artifacts.”

Upon‌⁠‍ hearing the report​‌​ from the mayor​‌ of Varna, Jager‍⁠ discreetly turned his​ head toward Ramund.‍

The‌‌⁠ old man was⁠​‌ sitting alone in⁠‍​ a corner.

Jager⁠ did not know​ exactly what he⁠‌⁠ was thinking about‌​‍ so deeply, but⁠ he still remembered‌‌ Ramund indignantly insisting​⁠ that he had‍ indeed sent a telegram.

“I⁠ am Portly Kannor,‌ of the Kannor⁠‍ family. I have​ a report for‌​ you, Count.”

After​‌ administrative matters came‌ the merchants’ turn.‌

And‌​ it was precisely​​⁠ during the reports‍‍​ from those operating⁠‌ in the central‍⁠‌ region that a peculiar piece of​ news emerged.

“It⁠​ seems that in⁠‌‌ several territories of‌⁠​ the Center, a kind of restoration‌‍ movement is beginning‍‌ to appear.”

“A​ restoration movement?”

Rutiger‍ frowned as he⁠ looked at Portly.‍‌⁠

Rutiger​⁠⁠ was a man‌⁠ who hated beating‍‌​ around the bush.‌‍

Portly⁠⁠ knew that well,⁠ but he still​‍ needed a few​‌‌ seconds to prepare‍‍‍ himself.

“Of​‌ Sarnus… more precisely,‍⁠‍ of the Dragulia‌‍ family.”

Because​‌ mentioning that forbidden‌‌ name required a certain amount of‍​⁠ courage.

“What⁠⁠⁠ the hell is⁠ this?”

“It‍⁠​ seems those people‍⁠ still haven’t suffered​‍ enough.”

“Seriously,‍⁠‌ of all the​‌ lunatics that exist,​​ how can they‌ admire someone like‍‌ Sarnus?”

Just‌ as Portly had‍‍‌ expected, the moment‍‌ the name of​‍ the man known​⁠ as the Dragon‍​ Blood Duke was⁠‍ mentioned, the room‍ began to stir.‌‍

“It⁠‌ all began in‍ territories that formerly‍‍ maintained close ties⁠ with the Dragon‍ Blood Duke. I suppose they are⁠​⁠ regions that became‍ marginalized because of‌‌ the sins of‍⁠ the past and‌​ where resentment has‌​​ accumulated for a long time.”

Rutiger​‍‍ let out an⁠ incredulous laugh and​‌ shook his head.‍

It⁠⁠ really has been‌ a long time.⁠‌​

How⁠‍ is it possible​ that, no matter⁠​ how hungry they​ are, they end⁠‌ up feeding on​​ the corpse of​‍ someone like Sarnus?​

“Now‍ that we know⁠‍‍ about it, we’ll‍ have to keep⁠​ an eye on‌‍⁠ it. You’re going⁠⁠ to have a lot of work⁠ ahead of you,⁠ Portly. Stay alert⁠​ to those movements.”‍⁠⁠

“Understood,‌​ Count.”

The​‍ meeting, which had‌​ begun in the​⁠⁠ morning, continued until‌ noon.

The​⁠ sun remained hidden⁠ behind dark clouds,​⁠ but the hunger⁠ twisting their stomachs‍​‍ clearly indicated that⁠‌ it was time‍⁠⁠ for a break.‍

“Very‍ well. We’ll conclude‌ today’s meeting here.⁠‍​ Thank you all‍​⁠ for coming this‍ far.”

Rutiger‌‌ shook hands with​⁠ his vassals with​ a smile and‍⁠ told them to‍‌‍ get some rest.‌​‍

Then‍⁠​ he made his​ way back to‌‌ his office.

“Dorothea,‍‍ what exactly is‍ going on with​‌‌ the magical telegrams?”‍‌

Now⁠​⁠ he moved only⁠ in the company​​ of people he​⁠‍ truly trusted.

In‌‍​ a way, the‍ real meeting for‍ Rutiger began at​‍⁠ that moment.

“It⁠ isn’t the fault​‌‍ of our magical⁠​ artifacts.”

“Then‍ what is it?”‌‌​

Rutiger⁠‌ dropped into the‌⁠⁠ chair in his‍​‍ office and loosened‍‌​ the collar of​​ his shirt.

“…When‍‍‍ we contacted Dobrechi⁠ regarding the spirit​ mole, there were‌⁠ also occasional interruptions‍⁠⁠ in communication. The⁠ mages there say‌‌‍ it has been‍ happening frequently lately.”‍⁠​

“Oh,‍⁠​ really?”

According‍⁠‍ to Dorothea, the⁠ phenomenon became more‍⁠ common the farther⁠⁠ north a region‌‍‍ was located.

It​‌ was probably not‍‌ a technical issue​‍⁠ but something interfering⁠‌‌ with magical telegrams.‌‍

“Perhaps​⁠​ that is exactly‍ why Vlad went⁠⁠ to the North‌‍ Pole. If the⁠ observations are correct‍​ and the black⁠‍​ moon is truly​⁠ approaching, it may‌ already be affecting⁠ communications.”

For​​​ the past twenty‌⁠ years, the black‌⁠​ moon had been⁠ the primary concern⁠⁠ of mages.

Although​ it had been‍⁠‌ born from sinister‍⁠ dark magic, some‍⁠⁠ mages even described‍​⁠ it as the​‌ starting point of‌ the world’s creation⁠⁠⁠ magic.

Its⁠‍ importance was extraordinary.‍⁠

“Then⁠‌‍ we have no‌⁠ way to counter‍ it. Will we⁠ have to go⁠​ back to using⁠ carrier pigeons like​‍‌ in the old⁠⁠ days?”

That​⁠‌ was far outside‍ the domain of⁠ a knight like‌ Rutiger.

There⁠​ was another matter‍‌ that interested him​‍ much more.

“Good.⁠ Marcus, have you​ discovered anything about​​⁠ the bloodstained ducat?”‍

The‍‌ blood-covered coin the​ mole had brought.‌

Who‍ was its owner?​‌

Where‌ had it come⁠​ from?

And​ why had it⁠ ended up reaching‌‌ Sturma?

Those⁠ questions had never‌ left Rutiger’s mind⁠ since then.

“Yes.‌‍‌ We have obtained‍ some results, Count.”⁠⁠

And‌ there was the‍ crow who had⁠‍ brought the answer.⁠‌‌

“I‍​ deployed my crows‍ to investigate mainly‍‍ the whereabouts of‍​ retired knights. And,‌‍​ just as you​ suspected, the situation‌ is concerning.”

He⁠ was a man‍⁠ difficult to place​​‍ between middle age​‌ and old age.⁠

The‍‌‌ numerous scars on​‍ his face made‍‍ it impossible to‌⁠ determine his exact‍‌​ age, although he​​ appeared to be​ Jager’s contemporary.

“After‌​⁠ investigating the Bayezid⁠⁠ territories and the⁠‍‌ entire North, we‌‍ found the bodies⁠ of several knights‍ who had walked⁠‌ the Lowest Path.”‍​​

The​⁠​ bodies of retired⁠‌⁠ knights.

Rutiger’s‌​ face darkened instantly.‌

“…Could​​⁠ it be…?”

“Fortunately,​​ none of them‌⁠ belong to the⁠ former Count. Furthermore,​‍​ his last known⁠ trail was in‍ the West.”

Upon‌⁠⁠ hearing that it⁠⁠ was not his‍‍ father’s body, Rutiger‍‌​ released a sigh​⁠ of relief without​‍‍ trying to hide​​ it.

“Did‌ they die in‍ accidents?”

“No.”​

“Were​ they murdered?”

Marcus‍ slowly nodded.

“They⁠​‌ must have been‍‌​ difficult men to‌‌​ kill…”

They‍​‌ were knights distinguished‌ enough to receive‌ a Ducat of​ Honor.

And‌‍ they had also⁠‍ been fortunate enough‍‌ to live long‍‍ enough to retire.‍⁠​

For‍ several of them‍‍‌ to turn up‍ dead was an​ ominous sign.

“We​⁠‌ cannot ignore this.”⁠‌​

Communications​ were beginning to‌ fail.

The‌‌‍ ghosts of the​⁠ past were resurfacing.‌

The​​‍ black moon was‌ drawing closer.

And‍ retired knights were‍ being murdered.

“…I​‍ don’t like this‍​‌ at all.”

Before‍⁠​ a great catastrophe​​ occurred, bad omens‍⁠ usually appeared one‌‌ after another.

And⁠‍​ those who carried‌‌ responsibilities had to⁠ be especially sensitive​ to such signs.​

“Very⁠​‍ well. We will‍‌‌ maintain a state‍ of alert for‌‌ a while.”

Recall‍‌ the knights currently​⁠ on missions.

Inspect​⁠‍ the soldiers.

Prepare​ carrier pigeons and​​ relay horses in⁠‌⁠ case the magical‍⁠ telegrams stop working.‍​

Inform‌ the mayors and‌​‍ neighboring territories.

And⁠​‍ if the situation‌ is as concerning‌ as it appears,‍⁠ send the crows‌​‌ even farther.

“And⁠ furthermore…”

There‍ was still one⁠ final matter to⁠⁠ review.

“Is‍​‌ something wrong, Sir‍‍ Ramund?”

Ramund‌‍ remained seated in⁠⁠ silence, waiting for‌ his turn.

Upon‌⁠‍ hearing the question,‌ he seemed to‍ come back to​⁠​ himself and looked​ up at Rutiger.‍

“Lately,‍⁠ Emil has been⁠⁠ acting strangely…”

***‍​

A cold breeze mixed‍ with the scent⁠​ of rain swept‌‍ over the railing.⁠‍‍

The⁠‍⁠ sky above Sturma⁠ was covered by⁠​ dense dark clouds.‍

The⁠ light was so‍⁠ dim that even‌ the faces of​‍‍ the passing servants​‍⁠ looked gloomy, but‌‍‍ in the squires’‍ dormitory, the cheerful‍ voices of the⁠‌ boys still echoed​ with energy.

“This‌⁠ is wonderful. We​⁠ even got out​⁠⁠ of training.”

The‍ squires of Sturma‌⁠​ were gathered on‌ the benches along⁠⁠ the corridor overlooking‍‌ the training grounds.‍​​

Normally,‍ they would have‌‌​ been rolling around‌ endlessly in the⁠ field before them,‌‌ but today was⁠‍⁠ different.

“You‍⁠ seem to be​ in a good​⁠‌ mood, Hampton.”

“Yes.⁠ My dad came‍⁠​ today.”

Because‌‌⁠ in a few‍‍ days, the welcome‍​ banquet for the‍⁠‍ squires personally hosted⁠‍ by the Count​⁠ would take place.‍​​

It‌ was one of‌⁠ Sturma’s most famous​‍ traditions.

And‌ in addition, the‍​ next day they⁠‌⁠ would have one‌⁠ of their rare⁠‍ opportunities to go‌ outside.

There​‌ was no way⁠⁠ the boys would⁠​ not be excited.‍‍⁠

“I’ll‌‍​ finally be able​‌ to restock my‌​ sausages.”

“…You​​‍ really never change.”⁠

Hampton⁠​ and Tarenian were⁠‍ already arguing as‍ if they had⁠⁠ known each other‍ for years.

However,‌‍⁠ Emil, who was​ sitting beside them,​‍ seemed distracted.

“Emil,‍ didn’t anyone come‌‍ to see you?‌ You live nearby​ too, don’t you?”‍​​

Tarenian‍ asked in an​ upbeat voice.

Although⁠‍ he himself had‌​ no one who‍ had come to‌ visit him from‍ the distant South,‍ he seemed to‍​ have been swept‌​ up by the​ atmosphere.

“No.​⁠ No one came⁠​⁠ for me either.”⁠‌

“Why?⁠‌ Is everyone busy?”​⁠

The⁠​⁠ son of a Swordmaster with no⁠ visitors.

That⁠‍‍ seemed strange.

But​‍‍ upon hearing the⁠⁠ answer, Tarenian could‌⁠ only nod.

“My‍ father is at‍‌ the North Pole,‍ and my mother‍‌​ is busy.”

“Ah,‍⁠ I see.”

Ah,‌‍⁠ he’s at the⁠ North Pole.

That’s​ much farther away⁠⁠ than anything I could boast about.​​

“But​ my dad did⁠‍‍ come. So we⁠‍ won’t have any​​‌ problems going out⁠‍⁠ tomorrow.”

“Of​‌⁠ course. Besides, you‌⁠ have Sir Ramund.‌ Anyway, there aren’t‌⁠‌ many boys whose​ parents come in‌​‍ person.”

Emil‌ nodded.

The‍​⁠ truth was that​‍⁠ he did not⁠‍​ particularly miss his‍⁠ parents.

After‌ all, the Bayezid‌‌⁠ manor was practically‌⁠​ his home.

He​‌‍ had simply remembered‌ for a moment​ that, two years‌⁠ earlier, when his​⁠ sister had been‌‍‍ there, he had‍ come together with‌‍ his father.

“The‌​ truth is, I passed through Soara​‌⁠ when I came‍‍ here, but I never got to⁠ see Sturma. I’m⁠ really looking forward‌ to going out​‍ tomorrow.”

[Run⁠ away tomorrow.]

“…!”​⁠

A male voice suddenly‌ slipped into the​‍ conversation.

That‍‌⁠ voice infiltrated it⁠ like a shadow.‍

Emil’s⁠⁠‍ hair immediately stood‍⁠ on end.

“…What⁠‌‌ did you just⁠⁠⁠ say?”

Tarenian⁠ was left speechless⁠‌‌ when he saw‍⁠ the look in​ Emil’s eyes.

Those⁠​ blue eyes carried‍‌ a strange pressure.⁠‌‍

Startled,‍ he answered with⁠⁠​ a stutter.

“I-I⁠ said I wanted‍​‌ to look for‍‌‌ some Sturma collectibles.​ Why? Did I say something weird?”‍

Perhaps​ he was annoyed‌ at having felt​‍ intimidated by someone‌ his own age,⁠ because his voice‌‌ rose.

But‌​⁠ Emil remained there,‌ motionless, with a frown on his⁠‌ face.

‘Is‌​ it because I’m​ sleeping badly?’

The​ truth was that‌‌‌ he had not⁠​ been able to​‌⁠ rest properly for​ several days.

Everything‌‍ had started after‍ training with Ramund.​

Every‌‍⁠ time he tried​⁠​ to sleep, memories‍‌ from his childhood​⁠‌ returned.

Memories‌ so old that⁠⁠ he could not‌⁠​ even recognize them.‌‌

‘And​‌ my chest feels‌ heavy.’

Like⁠​ the sky covered​ by storm clouds.​⁠‌

Emil​‌‍ looked up at‍​ the sky.

Even‌⁠ through the clouds,‍ the silhouette of​ the black moon​ could be vaguely​‌ seen.

“My⁠ lady, please wait.​ You can’t go​‍ that way.”

“Knights,​⁠⁠ clear the path!”‍​⁠

Suddenly,‍ a commotion arose‌‍ at the far‌⁠ end of the‍‍⁠ corridor.

The‌‌​ squires turned their​ heads.

“Who⁠‍‌ is it?”

“I​ don’t know. Who‍‌‌ could it be?”⁠

In⁠⁠​ the distance, a procession of maids‍‌ was approaching.

It‌‌​ seemed they were​ accompanying someone important.​‍​

Some​ of the more​ observant squires quickly‍‍ stood up and‍​ bowed their heads‌​‌ respectfully.

“My⁠ lady, please come‌ back. This is‍ the area where‌⁠ the squires stay.”‌‌‍

But⁠ the elderly woman‌‌ ignored the maids’‍⁠ insistence.

She⁠⁠ was an older‌​‍ lady dressed elegantly.‍

Her⁠​ white hair, carefully‌ braided, was especially‍ striking.

And​‌ among the silver‍‍⁠ strands, traces of‌⁠‍ green hair could‍‍ still be seen,​​ a sign that​‌ in her youth⁠‍​ her hair had​‍‍ been a vivid‍ green color.

“No,‌ no. I’m sure⁠ I saw him‌​ come this way…”​

However,⁠‍‌ her eyes seemed‍⁠ unfocused.

As‍⁠ if she were‍⁠‌ looking at a place far away‌ instead of the‌ present.

“Ah!⁠​ There he is!”‍‍

After‌ looking around for​⁠⁠ quite some time,‌​ the old woman‌‌⁠ smiled brightly.

She‌​​ had found the‍‍ blond hair she‍⁠‍ was looking for.​‍

“G-good‌‍​ morning, my lady.​⁠‍ My name is…”‍

Seeing‍ her approach, Emil‍‌ bowed his head‍ according to the​⁠⁠ etiquette he had⁠‌​ been taught.

Although‌⁠‍ the situation caught⁠‍ him by surprise,‌‌ he acted naturally.‌​

“Vlad.”‍​

But⁠‍ the old woman’s‌⁠‌ words made him‍ stop.

A woman calling him‍​‌ by his father’s‍​⁠ name.

“Have‍​‍ you seen my⁠‌‌ Joseph, Vlad?”

“…”‍‍‍

Emil⁠‌ slowly raised his‍ head.

“I’m‍ sure I saw⁠⁠ him walk this‌⁠ way, but when⁠​‍ I arrived, he‌ was already gone.”⁠⁠⁠

The‌ woman smiled with⁠ immense gentleness.

For⁠ some reason, she⁠ reminded him of⁠ his mother.

“If​‍ you see him,⁠⁠​ tell him I’m‌‍‍ looking for him.​‌⁠ It’s been a long time since⁠ I’ve been able⁠​ to see him.”‌‌‌

However,⁠‌​ even though she‍⁠ was standing in⁠ front of Emil,‌ she was not⁠⁠​ really seeing him.⁠

“Vlad,⁠‌ it seems you’ve‌ gained a little​ weight since the‍‍⁠ last time.”

Her​‍⁠ eyes were looking‌‌ at someone else.⁠‍‍

“That’s‍​‍ much better. Before,‍‍ you were nothing‌‌ but skin and‌​‌ bones.”

The​​​ former matriarch of​⁠‌ the Bayezid family.​

The⁠‍‌ great lady Oksana.⁠‌‌

She​ remained alone in‍ the past, conversing​​⁠ with that blond​​ boy from another​ era.

What did you think of this chapter?
1 reaction

0 Comments


There are no comments yet. Be the first!

Reader Settings
Page mode
Timer
Text Indent
Auto scroll
Tap to read
Pin menu
Translate page
Select language to automatically translate chapter content.
Audio & AI Voice
This chapter has pre-loaded audio
Ads Blocker Image Powered by Code Help Pro

Ads Blocker Detected!!!

We have detected that you are using extensions to block ads. Please support us by disabling these ads blocker.