Chapter 87
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Chapter 87
From that day onward, during our nights spent under the open sky, I was far from composed. At least, that's what the Holy Sword observed.
I was not one for excessive conversation, yet I found myself desperate to sustain even the smallest exchange with Echinacea Loaz. I listened so intently to her words that I nearly committed them to memory.
Stories of myself that I had never truly shared with another flowed freely in her presence. Of course, I kept certain matters hidden—the affairs of the Royal House, for instance—but otherwise, my tongue betrayed my heart.
Though we took turns keeping watch at night and our time together was limited, the mere fact of our companionship left me in constant turmoil. Even when she was not directly before me, knowing she was near made my heart refuse to settle. To master my excessive excitement, I carved wooden blocks.
During my years as a squire, Baron—my lord—had taught me that carving wood when troubled served dual purposes: it refined one's delicate handling of the blade and cleared the mind. I had occasionally heeded his counsel, yet it never became a true habit. In truth, I had no hobbies beyond the sword, and desire had never before unsettled me.
Yet these past few days, I had produced wooden shavings that rivaled years of my previous work.
[....]
The Holy Sword observed this spectacle with much to say, yet remained silent. Matters of human emotion—particularly those concerning love—had only backfired when she intervened. Rangiosa recalled that experience and kept her lips sealed.
Thus a week passed.
Her nearness became a source of tension, preventing me from finding restful sleep. That night, sleep eluded me more than usual, and after much tossing, I abandoned the tent camp. The fault lay largely with Echinacea Loaz, who had spoken of her younger brother during dinner and laughed aloud. That soft laughter and the curve of her eyes kept returning to my mind, making sleep impossible.
"My lord? Why are you not resting?"
"Sleep simply would not come tonight. It seems I slept too much during the day."
I sat beside Echinacea Loaz. She accepted my presence naturally, as though she had grown accustomed to me. The joy of it nearly shattered my composure. I fixed my gaze toward the valley and drew a deep breath.
What she said next was entirely unexpected.
"Would you like to spar with me now?"
I doubted my own ears. First came shock, then thoughts that spiraled like a runaway torrent through my mind.
What does she mean? Is she about to confess everything? Has she come to trust me? This quickly? That cannot be. Does she have another intention?
Perhaps it was merely a simple request to spar. ...No, the probability of her making such an ordinary request was virtually nonexistent. A spar. I had once believed such a day would never come, yet now—could it truly be possible to cross blades with her?
I stared at her blankly.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. If you are willing, my lord."
Echinacea Loaz answered calmly and rose to her feet. I could not follow.
Was this reality? Had my sleeplessness been an illusion? Was I dreaming?
I turned only my eyes to look at her, standing with Amethyst at her side. Slowly, reality took hold. If she truly revealed what she had hidden, then I too must confess the truth I had concealed—where her tragedy had begun. As that thought surfaced, my racing mind turned white and dissolved into nothing.
I rose unsteadily and stood before her. Echinacea Loaz's voice cracked slightly before she cleared her throat, though I did not notice.
"I will begin once you draw your blade."
"Very well."
I responded mechanically and reflexively drew Rangiosa. It went smoothly until my trembling hand caused the Holy Sword to fall. She made only a clicking sound and said nothing.
What would she do when she learned the truth? When she discovered that her life had been shattered because of me?
I could not imagine her reaction. I had resolved to wait for her to be ready, to ask for this spar—yet now that the moment had arrived, I was unprepared.
My feelings had deepened. I had come to care far too much. She had only just grown accustomed to me, had only just begun to smile in my presence, and yet she might turn away from me entirely. Now that I knew her smile, my fear had only multiplied.
Would she hate me? Resent me? Turn away? Leave me? I could not bear to imagine her disappearance. It would be better if she struck me down than to abandon me.
If she could not bring herself to kill me and instead demanded that I never again intrude upon her life, I would have no choice but to obey. I was the cause of her suffering, and so it was right. It was just.
But could I, already changed, endure her absence? Could I return to the time before I knew her? With memory intact, it would be impossible. Of that I was certain. Each time I became aware that this was my second life, I would inevitably think of her.
So if she told me she did not wish to see me, there was only one choice I could make.
'I must abandon the Holy Sword.'
Then I would forget everything about Echinacea Loaz, would forget that this second life was the opportunity she had created, and would live on in blissful ignorance. The thought of myself moving through life unaware filled me with profound revulsion. I splashed water on my face and barely managed to grip Rangiosa.
Echinacea Loaz drew Amethyst and pointed it toward me.
A brief silence. Moonlight flowed across the white blade. Beyond the steel, I saw her eyes tremble. The blade tip wavered. She cast down her sword.
"Echinacea Loaz?"
I opened my eyes instinctively. A darkness so profound it burned crimson—malice not directed outward, but inward, tearing at oneself. A soul screaming in torment. The moment I witnessed that anguish, I realized how selfish my thoughts had been mere moments before.
It was never about how she would treat me after my confession. The shock she would suffer upon learning the truth was immeasurable. If she discovered that fifteen years of unbearable suffering stemmed solely from my interest in her—
I closed my eyes and looked at her with naked sight. Tears blurred her vision as she covered her mouth with trembling hands. Her complexion had turned ashen. Without thinking, I called her name in supplication.
"Echinacea Loaz."
You have done nothing wrong. Why, then, do you bear all the wounds? Why do you turn your malice upon yourself? You have suffered enough. You have paid a price for sins you never committed. So please.
As I stepped forward, Echinacea Loaz shook her head meaninglessly and retreated. Her movements betrayed pure terror. I could not advance further and stopped in my tracks. It felt as though water were pouring into my lungs.
Please. Hate me instead. I am the one who made you into a demon. Resent me in her stead. Direct that malice toward me.
I opened my mouth to pour out the words rising within me. In that instant, light and noise erupted from below the valley.
"The witch! Bring the witch!"
It was a commotion I could not ignore. I swallowed the words I had been about to speak and turned my attention toward the valley. Since this was what I had been waiting for all along, I grasped the situation quickly. Not long after, Echinacea Loaz approached me as well. Her breathing, which had been ragged and broken, had already steadied.
Of course. You are a strong person. Even if you were to give up, no one could fault you—yet you endure to the very end and achieve miracles. That strength is blindingly beautiful, but it is precisely that which puts you in danger.
That is why I wanted to support you. To become someone you could lean upon and rest against. I endeavored toward that hope. I believed we were improving, bit by bit. Yet here you are again, before me, because of me, witnessing the past and suffering its pain. And I have not even told you the truth yet.
"Echinacea Loaz, that child must be the owner of Elgiosa. I will hold back the people—may I entrust the child to you?"
"Yes, Lord."
She answered without hesitation. I did not turn to look at her as she came to my side; instead, I leaped downward. I could not turn back.
Subduing the people and interrogating them was not difficult. I learned, piece by piece, which village they came from and what had transpired. It was a tale so foolish and selfish it made my brow furrow. To think the Saint had been murdered for such a reason.
[The owners of Elgiosa often suffer tribulations by their very nature. They are torn apart by such unjust creatures. It would be best to punish them according to law.]
Langiosa spoke coldly. I nodded slightly in response. After explaining the circumstances to the lord overseeing the village, I would proceed with a lengthy but lawful process: preliminary detention, submission of a statement regarding the Saint to the Cathedral, notification of the incident overview to the Empire, discussion of punishment, and finally, implementation.
As I was questioning the ringleader about which lord's domain the village belonged to, I felt an ominous premonition stab at my back and ceased the conversation. Through my Master's acute senses, I perceived a distortion in space. I rushed quickly toward the Shelter and peered through the broken window.
"Echinacea Loaz? What is—!"
[A Nodule? No, how long has it been since I last saw a Nodule? What in the world is this?]
There was no need to question her, no need to hear the Holy Sword's bewildered murmuring. The moment I saw Echinacea Loaz standing awkwardly near the Nodule and the Saint vanished, I understood everything. A Nodule had formed, and the Saint had been swallowed. I vaulted over the windowsill.
'And you were about to enter it again, weren't you?'
Just as you tried to save Baraha Islaf, you would save the Saint. Into a Nodule whose contents remain unknown.
Even for a Genius, you think far too lightly of your own life. Experience and confidence in survival do not prevent injury or pain. And last time, after entering and leaving a Nodule, you suffered for a long while afterward.
Our eyes met. I noticed Echinacea Loaz's alarm. She had no explanation for entering the Nodule before my eyes. She wishes to hide everything from me, after all. She does not trust me.
[Master, surely you do not intend to—]
I laughed bitterly. Then I stepped into the Nodule. A strange sensation, like passing through foam, swept across my entire body, and I found myself standing in a space that felt unreal.
[Have you resolved to die?]
"Now that I have entered, she will avoid the Nodule. She will not wish to reveal her nature before me. I will retrieve the Saint myself."
[Of course, you are among the most exceptional Masters I have ever witnessed. But a Nodule is different. The laws are different. What if it were a space without air? Even a Genius Demonic Sword Owner cannot guarantee survival in such a place. Yet you entered of your own volition—!]
The Holy Sword spoke gently at first, then grew emotional and raised its voice. I surveyed my surroundings and responded calmly.
"A Nodule swallows everything in its vicinity and then separates. Since it swallows air as well, there is no possibility of an airless space."
[Is this the time to quibble over such trivialities?]
"There is no point in questioning why I entered when I have already done so."
[Promise me you will not do this again.]
"...."
I did not answer. Instead, I raised Langiosa and touched a tree thick as an iron pillar.
[That tree—be careful not to touch it. The heat transmitted through my body is at the level of molten metal. And you will not make a promise?]
"I'll give it my best effort."
[...Yes, do try.]
Hopeless. Rangiosa abandoned the effort quickly. It was understandable if one attributed his reckless plunge into the Nodule to some noble sense of mission—rescuing the Saint and all that. Yet it was painfully obvious that his true concern far outweighed any such duty: he was far more anxious about whether the Demonic Sword Owner might enter the Nodule. The Holy Sword exhaled a deep, weary sigh.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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