Chapter 158
Chapter 158
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 158
Chapter Title: Festival of Swords (1)
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"It's Sword Saint Zaifa."
"Huh? Zaifa?"
Ronan's eyes widened. It was a completely unexpected figure, so he couldn't help but be flustered. At the same time, he felt like he understood why the boy had crawled all the way to the Sword Festival.
'Zaifa... yeah, that makes sense.'
He'd heard that Zaifa was still wandering the continent under the emperor's orders. The only time he stayed in one place for a fixed period was surely the Sword Festival. The boy nodded.
"Yes. My master is gifting it to Zaifa with utmost reverence. He hopes you'll use it at this Sword Festival if possible..."
It seemed his master had a deep connection with Zaifa. Well, being called the strongest Sword Saint in history, it would be stranger if no one admired him. Ronan suddenly recalled the crescent blade Zaifa always carried and rubbed his chin with his index finger.
"I see... But isn't it too small for Zaifa to use?"
It was a fairly large longsword, but that was by human standards. Zaifa seemed to have grown even bigger in the two years since he'd last seen him, and it might end up looking like a toy in his hands. The boy let out a meaningful chuckle and shook his head.
"Heh heh... It might look that way. But it's not. This sword has a special ability."
"An ability? Does it sing if you touch it or something?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you the details. My master said to show it only after meeting Zaifa in person."
The boy said firmly. Ronan had thought he was just a dull kid, but he had a sharp side after all. Ronan didn't pry further. He wasn't particularly curious anyway.
'This kid...'
But his swollen face grated on Ronan's nerves. The bare skin peeking through his torn clothes and the blood flowing from it. With a sigh, Ronan pulled a potion bottle from his inner pocket.
"Fine, then come here and let me treat your wounds."
"Th-that's a potion?! I'm fine! Really..."
"I have a habit of hitting people who make me repeat myself three times. Until they piss themselves."
"...!"
The boy clamped his mouth shut. Ronan indifferently dipped his finger into the potion and began applying it. Baren's special potion healed the wounds in an instant. While checking the boy's shoulder wound.
'Hm?'
Ronan noticed the boy's injuries were overall superficial. No broken bones anywhere, and no internal damage. Considering the size of those rookie hunters, these were remarkably light wounds.
"For getting beaten by those big lugs, your injuries are pretty minor. You must have taken a lot of beatings before."
"Haha... Yeah. I took them skillfully. My master is a rough guy himself."
"Even so, beating up a kid like you... what a worthless bastard. All done."
Ronan finished by rubbing potion on the boy's cheeks. As the bruises faded and the swelling went down, a fairly handsome face emerged. It had a delicate, girlish look that didn't suit a swordsman at all.
'Gray hair and brown eyes. An unusual combination.'
His grayish-white hair looked like ash-covered snow. Confirming the wounds and pain were gone, the boy widened his eyes. He began groping his face like he'd witnessed a miracle.
"N-no way... It doesn't hurt at all now."
"Pretty great, right? The lion who made it isn't your average guy."
"Th-thank you. Thank you so much. This favor..."
"Enough. Just finish your delivery."
Ronan waved him off irritably. He hadn't done it expecting anything in return. The boy bowed at a right angle in thanks and quickly began packing his things. Watching him, Ronan raised an eyebrow.
"You're leaving now?"
"Y-yes! If I hustle from here, I should arrive by tomorrow evening. Gotta finish my errand and head back quick."
"You could come with us. I can at least guarantee your safety."
"Thank you so much, but I'll gratefully decline. I can't impose any more. I won't forget this."
The boy bowed again. Ronan felt uneasy, but he couldn't force someone who insisted on going alone. Scratching his head, Ronan asked.
"What's your name?"
"Darman. And you...?"
"Ronan. If you see Zaifa, give him my regards. Tell him to grab a drink and clear up the misunderstanding."
"M-misunderstanding...? With Zaifa?"
Darman's face stiffened. It wasn't something to boast about to others. Ronan nodded lightly and gestured for him to go.
"Yeah, something like that. Don't worry about it if it's awkward."
"...No, I'll definitely pass it on. I won't forget today's grace. Sir Ronan."
"Go."
With that, Darman turned around. He looked back and bowed every three steps. Ronan turned away only after Darman vanished behind the trees.
He suddenly noticed the scattered clutter was all gone. Torn sleeping bag scraps, squashed sandwiches—everything had vanished cleanly. Aside from the dying campfire, no trace of Darman remained.
'Weird guy.'
The damp bloodstains and six arms alone proved the earlier events weren't a dream. Heading to Parzan for a delivery was odd enough, and he gave an overall peculiar impression.
Ronan smothered the campfire with dirt. As he looked up at the starry sky.
Rustle. A sound came from behind.
"Hm?"
Ronan turned, hand on his sword hilt. The approaching presence felt off. A beast? Just as he drew Lamancha halfway from its sheath. A familiar face emerged from the overlapping trees.
"What?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Schlieffen, meeting his eyes, stopped in place. He too gripped his sword hilt, ready to draw at any moment.
"Ronan. So you were here."
"That's what I want to ask you, man. Why are you here?"
"I heard screams. Looks like the situation ended a while ago."
Schlieffen glanced around, nodding as if grasping the situation. Ronan tilted his head.
"A while ago?"
It hadn't been that long. Schlieffen released his sword hilt.
"Yeah. No presence from the screamer. Didn't they leave ages ago?"
"That's true, but... it was really just a bit ago?"
Ronan focused and extended his senses. About a hundred meters ahead, he felt three presences—the rookie hunters he'd dealt with.
Maybe from heavy bleeding, one soon flickered out like a snuffed candle. Darman's presence remained undetectable.
"What the?"
"One of these arm owners died, it seems. No other presences besides them..."
Schlieffen still couldn't sense Darman. For someone with far keener senses than Ronan to miss him meant Darman was already far away. He seemed useless in a fight, but damn fast on his feet? Ronan let out an incredulous chuckle.
"Damn, feels like I was haunted by a ghost."
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you on the way. What about Instructor Naviroje?"
"She returned just before. She praised you, saying you're far bolder than she thought, leaving you behind. What happened?"
"...Ha, now that's a killer story."
Ronan chuckled. Looking back over two lifetimes, it was one of the strangest nights. Two full moons and his master's naked body. The mysterious delivery boy heading to Zaifa.
Ronan and Schlieffen turned together. The way back was long, but with much to discuss, it wasn't boring at all. Starlight twinkled through the sparse branches like pouring rain.
Ronan's group arrived at their destination two days later. Emerging from the dense forest, a meadow covered in short grass appeared. Naviroje glanced around and encouraged the two.
"Good work, everyone. Right on time."
The air was crisp. The dawn ripening into morning was still tinged in deep navy blue. Seeing the twinkling lights beyond the meadow, Ronan curled his lips.
"Finally."
It was Dran Parzan, one of Parzan's four villages. Any swordsman attending the Sword Festival had to pass through here. Ronan's gaze shifted to the village's rear.
"The holy site is up there at the peak?"
"Yes. Only those who pass the ritual can go. Seeing it after so long brings back memories."
"That's ridiculously high."
Ronan chuckled dryly. Behind Dran Parzan loomed a massive mountain. Rising with gentle slopes, it resembled a pillar holding up the sky. Parzan referred collectively to the mountain and the holy site atop it.
Due to the high elevation, Parzan appeared shrouded in a bluish veil. The peak was capped in eternal white snow.
'Come to think of it, those are...'
Ronan suddenly noticed crowds crossing the meadow. Easily fifty visible. They moved toward Gran Parzan as if by appointment.
Some carried torches, others used fading stars as lanterns. Their attires varied, but all shared one trait: swords at their sides.
"Let's hurry too."
They looked like devout pilgrims. After brief encouragement, the three followed their direction.
The meadow was wider than expected. No one spoke as they walked, only the rustle of grass underfoot echoing.
"Thanks for coming. If you're here for the Sword Festival, please head straight to the plaza."
By the time they reached the village, daylight had broken. Guides directed participants. One guide meeting Naviroje gasped.
"Thanks for comi—Gasp! Instructor Naviroje?!"
"Long time no see. You were here four years ago too, right?"
"Y-you remember me? I guided you then. I'll take you to the committee headquarters."
"No need. I'm here as a participant this time."
"...Pardon?"
The guide's eyes bulged. Ronan and Schlieffen were equally surprised. Naviroje turned away from the stunned guide and walked on. Ronan quickly caught up.
"Wait, even someone like you can enter?"
"No rule against it unless you've committed a disqualifying error. No law says I can't seek the holy sword."
"True, but it's unexpected. There's participant duels in the screening, right?"
"Probably. It's skill-based."
"Poor souls who draw you. Brutal."
Ronan shook his head. Whatever the tests, it'd be a massacre. They followed the guide to the plaza. Ronan's eyes widened.
"This is..."
The space, Phileon's grand plaza-sized, swarmed with people. Scanning around, Ronan chuckled dryly. Far more than expected.
"This is after screening?"
"...Unusually many. They advanced the date too—something's up."
Naviroje tilted her head curiously. More kept arriving. Ronan turned to them.
"Seems like it hasn't started yet. I'll look around. Sitting still makes me antsy."
"Go ahead."
Naviroje nodded. Ronan stretched and wandered off. Their strong presences meant no worry of getting lost.
About five minutes of circling later. An unfamiliar voice came from behind.
"Well, if it isn't the hero who brought spring back to the capital?"