Indra Translations
Navigation
Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 56: When I find you (3)

Chapter 56: When I find you (3)

In‌​‍ the carriage leaving‍‍ the convent.

There‍⁠‍ was a red-haired⁠​ girl sitting quietly‍​​ in a shaky​ carriage with tears⁠‍‍ threatening to fall⁠‍​ from her eyes.‌

Seeing⁠⁠‍ him holding less⁠‌​ than a bundle‍‌⁠ of luggage against‌‌ his chest was​‍ something that would​‌ elicit sympathy from‍‌ anyone who saw‍​‌ it.

“Did‌‌‍ you have difficulties‌‌‌ there?”

“…More‌​‍ or less.”

“Were⁠‌‍ you not fed⁠‌‌ well? Why are‍‍‍ you so thin?”‍⁠‌

“…I​ just told you.”​​⁠

Zemina​⁠​ continued to avoid‌​ Vlad’s gaze while⁠‌‌ briefly answering the‍‍⁠ questions that arose‌‌ along their way.⁠‌

“Why⁠‌‌ are you doing​‌‌ that?”

“Why…”‌

“Why‍‌ are you looking‍‍⁠ at me like​‌ that?”

“…”‌‍‍

Zemina‌‍ couldn’t easily make⁠ eye contact despite‌ Vlad’s questions.

It‍ was a scene​ the girl had​​‌ dreamed of for‍‌ so long, but⁠​​ when she actually⁠ found herself in​⁠‌ the situation, there‌‌‍ was only an‍ uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Are‌ you uncomfortable because​‌ we haven’t seen‌‍‌ each other in‌​ just half a year?”

Vlad⁠ was somewhat annoyed‌‍‍ by Zemina’s subtle‌​‍ reaction, but he‍ couldn’t help it.​​​

‘…She‍‍ has changed a lot.’

Even​⁠ the parents who‍‌​ gave birth to‌‍‍ them were unaware⁠‌​ of the subtle​⁠ emotions of a teenager.

The​​⁠ subtle difference in​ emotions was partly‍‍ Vlad’s fault, as‍​ he arbitrarily deviated‍‍ from what the‍⁠‍ girl knew.

‘He‍ looks like a true noble.’

Zemina‍ thought as she⁠ looked at Vlad,‌‍​ who gazed back⁠ at her with⁠⁠‍ a bitter look‍‍⁠ in his eyes.​

His‍ blond hair, once​​ popular among streetwalkers,‍ now even lost‍ its shine, making​ him look extravagant.⁠ The clothes he‍ wore, his armor,‌ and everything else‍‍ displayed the appearance‍⁠ of a proud⁠ knight.

“…”‌

In‌‌‌ contrast, her pitiful​ figure sitting in​‍ front of someone‍‌‍ so bright.

Zemina‌​ quickly grabbed the‍ end of her‌ frayed sleeve, fearing⁠‍ Vlad’s gaze might‌‍ catch her.

Even⁠ if she did​‍ that, her pitiful‌‌ appearance wouldn’t be‍‍‍ completely hidden.

When‍‍ they were together‌‌ in the alley,‍ they had nothing‍ but a ragged‌ blanket, but the‍‌‌ sight of the‌‌‍ boy now seemed⁠‌⁠ distant, making Zemina⁠⁠ feel sad.

“I⁠ felt like they⁠‌ wouldn’t even allow⁠‌ me to be‌‍ with the boy‌ anymore, so I just lowered my‍ head into the⁠⁠ bag I was‌⁠⁠ holding.”

“Hey!”​‌

“Yes?”‍⁠

At​ Vlad’s sudden call,⁠ Zemina raised her​ head.

She​‌​ opened her eyes‌‍ in surprise as‍ she felt something​‌⁠ suddenly flying into‍‌⁠ her open mouth.​‍​

“Eat​ this and come‌​ to your senses.‌ You’ve been downcast​⁠‌ since before.”

“······.”⁠

Zemina⁠‌⁠ silently lowered her‍⁠ tongue as she​ felt the sweet​​‌ taste spreading in‌‍ her mouth.

“What⁠​​ is this?”

“Candy.​​ I got it​‍​ from a knight‌ I know.”

“How‍ did you get​​​ this expensive thing?⁠⁠​ You didn’t steal​⁠ it, did you?”‌‌

“······Think‍ what you want.”​

With⁠​ those words, Vlad‍‌⁠ looks out the⁠‍‍ carriage window as⁠ if he no‍ longer felt like​‍ talking.

Seeing‍⁠ Vlad’s indifferent profile,‍​ Zemina recalled the⁠‍‌ image of the⁠‍‍ boy from before.‍​

He⁠⁠⁠ had been the‍​‍ same back then.‍

Even⁠​ during the days​​ when he struggled‌ to survive, Vlad‌‍‍ somehow managed to‍​ get a piece‍‍​ of bread for⁠‌⁠ the girl.

And‌‍​ then acted indifferent⁠ as if nothing⁠‍ had happened.

Just⁠​⁠ like now.

“Sob······.”‌

The⁠ salty taste of‌‌ falling tears, and⁠ the sweet taste‍ of the candy‌ she tasted for‌ the first time.‍

Feeling⁠ the taste of⁠ reunion spreading to⁠​‌ the tip of​ her tongue, the​​‌ girl let go​‍‌ of the tears‌​‍ she had been⁠‌⁠ holding back.

“Why‌​ are you crying⁠‌ again? Seriously.”

“You⁠⁠ came too late!”‍​

Finally​​‍ seeing the girl​‍‍ releasing the tears​​ she had been‍ holding back, Vlad‌⁠​ only frowned as⁠‌ if he found‍ it annoying.

In‍​ the changed Vlad,‌ Zemina found the‍⁠​ image of the‍​‍ boy she knew,‍​ and only then‌‍⁠ could she release⁠‍ her tears with⁠‌​ relief.

There‍ were things that⁠​ wouldn’t change even‍​ with the passage​​ of time and⁠ changes in circumstances.‍‍​

Zemina‌ was very happy​ about that.

***‌

In‌ a corner of‌‌ an alleyway.

Facing‌​⁠ the slowly flowing‍⁠ river, Harven and⁠​ Vlad sat with⁠⁠⁠ a bottle of‍⁠‍ liquor beside them,⁠​ sharing a conversation.⁠

“How​‍‌ is it possible‌‍⁠ that among all⁠⁠ those boats, there​ isn’t one for​‍⁠ me?”

“······.”​‍

The⁠‍ boats were gathering⁠‌ at the dock‍​⁠ to avoid the⁠​​ sunset.

From‍‌ small fishing boats​‍​ to large ships​‍‌ responsible for the‌⁠⁠ logistic distribution of⁠ Soara.

Looking⁠‌⁠ at the boats​ docked in order⁠⁠ according to their‍⁠ size and position,‌‍​ Harven sighed not‍​​ out of admiration,‌⁠ but out of​​ despair.

“You⁠ know it too,‌​​ right? That my‌ original dream was⁠‍​ to be a guard.”

“I⁠​‌ do.”

Harven⁠⁠‍ was a straightforward⁠‍ man who used​​‌ to speak his⁠‌‍ mind, but when​ he had alcohol‌ in his mouth‌‍ or saw boats,‍‌‌ he showed a different side from‍​ the usual.

And⁠‌ the blond boy​‍ was the one​‌ who had seen​‌‌ that facet the​⁠‌ most.

“Now,⁠‍⁠ obviously I’ve deviated⁠‌ from the path‍⁠​ of being a guard. With these⁠‍ legs, how can​‌⁠ I climb a mast?”

“······.”‍‍‍

Upon​ hearing Harven’s words,‍‍​ Vlad picked up⁠‌​ a stone and‌⁠ threw it into‍​ the river.

Because‌‍​ he knew that​⁠ one of the⁠⁠ reasons why Harven’s‍⁠ dream had been‍⁠ frustrated was himself.‌​

“So⁠⁠​ lately, I’ve been​​ learning to read⁠​ maps and recognize‍ constellations. When you​‍‌ think about it,‌ being a guard​‌​ is too tough.”⁠

“It⁠ seems like you​ haven’t changed much…”​

Vlad‍⁠ turned his head‌‍‌ in an indifferent​‌⁠ gesture and started⁠​⁠ laughing while looking​​⁠ at Harven.

From‍​ the voice, to⁠⁠‍ Jager, Joseph, and‍⁠ Jorge.

There‍ were many people​‍ who taught the‌​⁠ boy knowledge, skills,⁠ and life directions,‌​‌ but perhaps the‌ brown-haired man sitting​‍​ beside him at​‌ this moment was‍ the first of‍‍ them all.

Harven’s‍ attitude, always seeking‌ a way out‍‌ in life, no‌‌ matter how much‍ the environment changed,‌​ had clearly had⁠‌⁠ a great influence‌ on the boy.‌⁠

“So‍⁠⁠ Marcella and Zemina⁠ are still there,‍ in the inn‌‌ in the city‌ center?”

“We‍⁠‍ can’t let anyone‌ else besides us‌ bother them.”

“Yes.”⁠​​

Bordan,​⁠⁠ who was organizing​​‍ Jack One-Armed’s property,​ handed Vlad a receipt related to‍ the smile of‌ a rose.

It‌ was the boy’s​ legitimate right to⁠ revenge, but it‍​ was also Joseph’s​‌‌ wish.

And‍ that receipt was⁠ now in Marcella’s‌ possession.

The‍ boy did not‍⁠‍ forget the favor​‌‍ of that day.‍​‍

“Marcella​ is still managing‍‌ the inn on⁠⁠ the corner.”

“I’m‌⁠‌ not sure.”

“Sometimes,‍‌ she enjoyed drinking‌ under your name.”​

Listening‌ to the memories‍‌ of the past‌‌‍ coming out of​ Harven’s mouth, Vlad​‍ took a sip‌‍ from the bottle​ of whiskey in‌​ his hand.

The‍‍ cheap whiskey that⁠‍‌ passed his throat⁠ so easily made‍‌⁠ Harven feel an‍‌ innate desire to⁠ drink.

“······Is‌​ it good? Do‌⁠ you want to​ swap it for​⁠‌ mine?”

“······Are​ you kidding?”

There‌‌ was no reason‌⁠ to swap expensive‍ whiskey for cheap‍⁠ rum, but Vlad‌⁠‌ passed the bottle‍ to Harven anyway.‌⁠⁠

Because‍ he also owed​ something to Harven.​

“Damn!⁠ You can tell​‌⁠ when it’s good​ whiskey just by‌‍​ the smell!”

“······The‍​‍ same goes for⁠‌‍ bad whiskey.”

Vlad‍‍‌ wrinkled his nose‍ at the stench⁠‍‌ emanating from the⁠⁠ cheap rum and⁠ slightly tightened the‌⁠‌ bottle cap.

“······.”‍

Harven,​⁠⁠ with his long⁠ sleeve covering his‌‍‌ forearm even as‍​​ summer approached, watched⁠ the scars on​‍ his arm as⁠ Vlad raised the‍‍ bottle.

The​⁠ new scars that‌ had formed on⁠ Harven’s arm were‍ the price he‌​ paid for secretly‌​ taking out a ship for Soara​ when he was⁠‍ trying to escape.⁠​

“…Somehow​‌‍ I didn’t die.”⁠‍

“I‍⁠ only half died.”‌

Harven’s⁠⁠⁠ smile, illuminated by⁠​ the twilight, seemed‍ sad to Vlad⁠‌‍ for some reason.‌​

In‌‍‍ an alley where‌​ the only thing​‍ they had to⁠‍‍ offer was their‌⁠ lives, Harven did​‌ his best for‍​‌ Vlad.

Haven,‌‌ a member of‍⁠ a gang, hijacks‍‌⁠ the boat of‌ a boss and​‌‍ floats it on⁠ the river.

If‌ Jack One-Armed’s men​ who saw that​ scene hadn’t rushed‌⁠ to the dock,‍‍⁠ it might have⁠ been a member‍ of another organization,​ not Otar, who⁠⁠ blocked the boy.​

“They‌ say it’s surprising‌‍ that a cripple​​‍ can bring out​‍‍ a boat on‌ his own. The‍​‌ boss liked that.​​​ That’s why I’m​‌​ half-dead.”

“He‌‍ likes everything.”

“That’s⁠ why I lived.‌​ Thanks to you,‍‍ I can drink⁠ such good drinks.”​‍

Vlad‌ silently shouted as‍​​ he watched Harven‍⁠​ gulp down the‍‌‍ whiskey as if‌ it were good⁠​​ medicine.

“What​​ do you plan​‍‍ to do next?‌‌​ Are you going‌⁠ back to Sturma?”‍⁠‌

“For⁠​​ now, I’ll stay​⁠ here. It’s like⁠‌​ a state of​‌ waiting.”

“It⁠‍⁠ seems like a great view. A man obeying the​ orders of a noble. You’ve thrived.”‌

The​⁠ boy ignored Harven’s‍‌ words, dismissing them‌‍ as the words‍ of a drunk​⁠⁠ person, saying that⁠ Zemina would be⁠ sad if he‍‍ left so soon,⁠ and that he‍‍ should take her​ with him when⁠‌ he goes up.⁠

“In​ the meantime, I’ll​​‌ be looking for​⁠ people around here.”​‌

“Who?”⁠‌​

Watching‌​ the sun gradually‌‌ set to the​⁠‍ west of the​ river, Vlad took‍‍⁠ another sip from‍ the bottle.

For​ someone, it might‌‍ be a signal​‌​ of the end‍⁠​ of the day,⁠ but for the‍‌ alley people, it‍‌‌ was a signal‌‌ of the beginning‌⁠⁠ of the day.⁠

“I‌‍ have to search‌‍​ for Jack’s hidden‌‌ properties and what‍‍​ was left unrecovered.⁠‍⁠ The money worms⁠ are digging everywhere.”​​

“If‌​‍ that’s what you’re​​ looking for, it⁠​ might be useful.”⁠​

“Heh.⁠ This whiskey isn’t​‍ free.”

Looking‍ at Vlad’s sinister‌⁠‌ smile directed at​ him, Harven toyed​ with his cane.‍

For​‌ some reason, the⁠ cane that the‌​​ young man had‌⁠⁠ given him today⁠​ looked reliable.

“And‍‌​ Marcella seems to‌‌ want to look​ for other prostitutes.”‍‍​

“They’ve‍ probably already sold​ all of them.”⁠‌

“They’ll​​​ be somewhere around⁠‍​ here.”

“Hmm.”​⁠‍

Joseph‍‌‍ wanted to find​ even Jack’s hidden​ dust in the‌⁠ alley.

And⁠‍⁠ Madame Marcella also‍‍ wanted to find​‌‍ the prostitutes who‍ had disappeared because⁠‌‍ of her.

Money⁠⁠ and prostitutes.

Following‌‍ in the footsteps‌‌⁠ of the prostitutes⁠​ sold by usurers,⁠​ they would surely‌ earn shiny gold⁠‌‌ coins made with​ their tears.

Among​ missions and requests,​‌ Vlad, Bayezid’s squire⁠ and knight of​ the last remaining‍ courtesans, knew exactly‌​‍ what he had​‌​ to do.

“I‍‌​ guess both have‍​ something in common.”⁠

“Still,⁠‍​ I think it’ll‌‌​ be a headache.‍‍‌ I did a quick search, but⁠​​ some of them‌ showed no trace.”‍

“Who?”​

“It’s​‍ Anna. Besides her,‌ there are a few more people.”‍​

Vlad⁠⁠ remembered the prostitute⁠⁠ who had been‍‌​ beaten by a man calling himself‍ a mercenary.

As⁠ she started with​​ many debts, he‌‍ thought they would⁠ have sold her⁠ to a harder‍ place, but he‍‌‍ had no idea‌‌⁠ she would disappear​ without a trace​ like this.

“I​ see. It’s a bit unusual for‌​‌ there to be⁠‌ no trace.”

Harven‍​⁠ frowned when he‍⁠‍ felt that Vlad’s⁠ words were not⁠‌ empty words.

When​‍ Jack One-Armed roamed‍ the alleys, he‌ saw many things⁠‍⁠ that shouldn’t have​​‍ happened.

“Call‍‌‍ me if you‌⁠ need help. The‍‍ organization has shrunk​ these days, so‌​ I may not‍​ be of much‌⁠ help.”

“Alright.”‍

Harven‍​ strengthened his cane,​‌ managed to keep​‌‌ his balance, and⁠⁠⁠ stood up.

Although​​ he felt quite‌​ uncomfortable, seeing Harven‍⁠‍ fulfilling his duty⁠ somehow gave young​ Vlad a lot​ to think about.‌‌

“I’ll⁠ be going.”

“Okay.”⁠

Vlad​‍⁠ waved a hand‍​​ and watched Harven​​‌ as he went‌‌ back to his⁠‌ work.

The‍ crimson twilight cast​⁠‍ long shadows over‍⁠ Harven.

His‍​ shadow, which is‌‍⁠ even more amazing‍ than before, probably‍‍‍ isn’t simply because​‌​ he’s drunk.

“I⁠‍‍ have to pay‌ you back the​⁠ money.”

Joseph⁠​‍ had said.

When‍‌​ you owe a favor or a grudge, you should‍ at least repay‍⁠‌ it twofold.

A single bottle of‍ whiskey won’t be‌‍⁠ enough to thank​‍‍ Harven for his​ kindness.

“I⁠‌ guess I should⁠​ come by here​‍ sometime.”

Vlad‌‌⁠ turned around and​​‍ started walking in‍ the opposite direction‍‍ of where Harven⁠​‌ had gone.

The⁠ boy heading towards⁠‌ the alley well⁠‌ remembered Joseph’s words.‍⁠

Life⁠‌ is a series‌‍⁠ of payments.

And‍⁠ the boy knew‍ that it was‍ his turn to​‌‍ pay.

The​⁠‍ boy’s hair fluttered​ in the dim‍‍ lights of the​ back alley.

The⁠‍⁠ color was livelier‌ than anything else.‌

***⁠​​

In‌⁠​ front of a ramshackle and mud-filled‌‍​ blacksmith’s shop, an⁠⁠ elderly blacksmith, as‍⁠​ unkempt as his‍ humble store, sat⁠​‌ dejectedly in front​ of his forge.‍⁠

The‍ only occasional customers​ were mercenaries seeking‍⁠​ rumors and unattractive‌‌ street thugs.

“…”‌‍

The‍ elderly man, whose‌⁠ life didn’t have⁠‍⁠ much time left,​​ felt disheartened watching‍ his life fade⁠‍​ away like this.‌

No​‍​ matter where you’re​​‍ born in this‍ world, everyone deserves‌ to have at⁠​‍ least one star​ in their heart.‍​​ However, getting the​‌ star you held‌ to appear in‍‍ the night sky‍ was another problem.⁠

“Should‍ I close today?”‌‍‌

The​⁠​ increasingly demotivated elderly‍ man rose with​​ a groan reminiscent‌⁠ of his age.‍

He​⁠ had been arranging⁠⁠ furniture for a while when he‌ stopped upon seeing​‍‍ a nail driven⁠‌‍ into the highest⁠​ point of the⁠‌‍ blacksmith shop.

A sword was hung​​‍ there.

And‌⁠ the old blacksmith​⁠ remembered the boy⁠⁠​ who had gazed⁠ at the sword.⁠

Where‍‌​ and what would​‍​ that sword containing‍‌ his unrealized dreams‍‌‌ be doing?

Would‍​ the boy be⁠ alright?

“He‍ must be.”

Aware​‌ of the world’s‌‌ cruelty, the old⁠‌‌ man had already‍‍⁠ accepted that his⁠ star might not‌⁠‌ shine so brightly.​​

He‌​ just hoped it​‌​ would be in‌ a night sky⁠​‌ better than this‍ lamentable place.

“Are​ you closing already?”⁠‌

“Yes.‍ Come back later.”⁠⁠

“I⁠ can’t, I’ll be​‍‌ busy.”

The​ old man chuckled⁠ softly at the⁠⁠​ voice behind him.⁠‌

Busy.‍

“Do‍ you think you⁠‍ need my keen‌‌ skill to push⁠⁠ someone with a butcher’s knife?”

“This⁠⁠ sword needs repair.​‍ It’s been a long time since‌​ the last one.”​‍‌

“…What?”​​

The⁠‌ old man reacted⁠​‍ to the words‍ he had just‌​‍ heard.

Clearly,‍‌​ he had heard‌ the word “sword.”‍

“Other‍​‍ blacksmiths can’t fix​⁠ this. Only you‌​​ can.”

“…”‍

The‌ old blacksmith dropped‍​​ his tools and‍ slowly turned back⁠​ around.

“Oh…”⁠

Just⁠ by standing still,​​ bright blond hair​‌​ appeared in his⁠‍ numbed eyes.

That‍‌ was the color‌‍ he had brought​ into the world⁠‌⁠ with the girl‍ that day.

“Is​‌​ it not?”

“No,‍ no, it’s okay.​ Will you do​ it or not?”​​‍

Seeing‍ such a beloved​‍ customer after so‌⁠⁠ long, the old‍⁠ blacksmith lit his​‍ forge.

The​‌ fire revitalized the‌‍‍ old man’s passion,​​ which seemed like​ it would extinguish⁠‌​ at any moment.⁠‍

“Have‌‌ a seat here.”‍‌​

The‌‌⁠ old blacksmith offered⁠​ the boy a seat and took‌⁠⁠ the sword carefully.⁠

Fshh-‌‌‌

“That’s‍ it.”

The⁠ old blacksmith smiled‍‌ as he looked⁠‍ at the sword⁠ with marks here⁠‍​ and there.

He‍⁠⁠ always felt proud​‍​ of the things‍ he had made⁠​​ as a blacksmith.​‌‌ Especially if he‌‍​ had created them​​‍ himself.

“Where​ did these scars‌​​ come from?”

“These‍⁠‌ are from when⁠ I fought a goblin. I wasn’t‍ familiar with the​ sword back then,⁠⁠‍ so…”

“And‌ these?”

“These‍ are… when I caught the death​ worm. I was‌‍‌ used as bait⁠ and… scraped the⁠‌ ground to get⁠‌⁠ it out.”

Vlad⁠⁠‍ continued explaining the⁠‍‍ scars on the​‌‍ sword as the‌⁠⁠ old man smiled.​⁠​

He​ didn’t need to‌‌ justify anything.

“Goblin…⁠ death worm…”

The‌​ old man wasn’t‍‌ scolding the boy;‌​ he was moved‍ by what the‌ sword he had​ created had achieved.‌⁠​ It was faithfully⁠ fulfilling its duty.‍‍

Different‍ from him, who‌ was rotting away⁠ here.

The‍‍‌ blacksmith of that⁠⁠ day remembered the⁠​‍ boy endlessly staring‍​ at the sword​​ he had made.‌‍⁠

However,‍‍ the blacksmith of‍ today smiled as⁠‍ he looked at‍​ the scars on‌​ the sword that⁠ had been created​ by the boy.⁠‍​

“Wait.​‌‌ I’ll fix it‌ for you.”

The‌ old man quickly⁠‌​ closed the shop⁠ and devoted himself‌ exclusively to work‌‍ for the boy.‍‍

The​‌‌ sound of the​‍ old man’s hammer‌ hitting resonated in‍ the alley as​ it mingled with​ the boy’s voice.‍

“Then‌‌ he struck the‍‍ shield there and‍​ said my name.”⁠​​

“And‍​​ then?”

The‌ old man dreamed​ of those sounds.‌⁠⁠

The‍‍‌ boy’s eyes looked⁠‍ at him, and​ he saw himself⁠ standing in view​​ of what the⁠ sword had done.‍‌​

The​‍‍ old blacksmith, excitedly⁠ looking at the‍‌⁠ visible landscape between‌⁠⁠ the sparks flying,‌​⁠ smiled.

What did you think of this chapter?
0 reactions

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.