Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: The Cradle of Swords
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The people of the Sigmund family.
To be precise, those who had completed their investiture ceremony all carried a very special sword.
The Succession Sword.
A sword said to contain the souls of their ancestors.
The Sigmund family had a tradition of imbuing a sword with the enlightenment achieved over a lifetime just before death, passing it down to future generations.
Such a sword was called a Succession Sword, and it was considered a treasure and an heirloom of the Sigmund family.
As it contained swordsmanship and enlightenment passed down through generations, this was only natural.
And the people of the Sigmund family would receive their own Succession Sword on their 24th birthday, during their investiture ceremony.
They would go to a place called the [Cradle of Swords] and conclude the ceremony by bringing out the one sword among hundreds of Succession Swords that had chosen them.
As they would be acquiring a sword to be with them for life, it was a very important day not only for the Sigmund family but also for the individual involved.
“Young Master, this old man is truly moved.”
Maranello suddenly teared up, as if proud of Carlyle.
Tears from the knight known as the Grim Reaper of the North… it was quite unbecoming, but Carlyle let it slide.
After all, Maranello was getting on in years, and the image of a benevolent grandfather and meticulous butler suited him better than that of a fearsome knight.
Of course, Maranello had not yet given up the sword.
“It's something everyone does. What's the big deal? Were you like this during Selena's... I mean, my sister's investiture too?”
Carlyle asked, saying the word ‘sister’ a bit awkwardly.
“Of course, I was. Ho ho. When Lady Selena was chosen by Asrada, I was truly moved.”
Asrada, the Sword of Severe Cold.
That sword, possessing the ice attribute, was a famed blade ranked among the top ten of all the Succession Swords.
It was no wonder Selena was mentioned as a strong candidate for the next head of the family.
Of course, due to a future incident, Frey was destined to become the family head…
“You don't have to be like that with me. Save your tears for Frey. That'll be more moving for you than this.”
“How could one be more moving than the other? The investiture of each Young Master is equally moving.”
“I said, enough.”
Carlyle replied curtly.
“Don't expect anything. I'm just planning to grab whatever and get out.”
“As if it's something you can decide, Young Master! Hahaha!”
Maranello laughed as if that were impossible.
“The succession ritual isn't about you choosing, Young Master. It's about the sword choosing you...”
“Who doesn't know that? Anyway, just don't expect anything.”
Honestly, Carlyle found Maranello's recent attitude very burdensome.
The expectant gaze, the subtle tone, and the smile playing on his lips.
Maranello was clearly expecting a great deal.
‘That crafty old fox. He must have misunderstood, thinking I'd been hiding my true self all this time.’
Carlyle saw right through Maranello's thoughts.
Maranello wasn't an idiot; it was only natural for him to think that way when someone changed so suddenly.
From Carlyle's perspective, there was no need to reveal the truth, nor could he, so he had no choice but to let it be.
As long as he wasn't bothered, it didn't matter what Maranello thought.
“How long will the ritual take?”
“Usually, it takes about two hours.”
“That's bearable.”
Hoping the investiture ceremony would end as quickly as possible, down to the last second, Carlyle headed to where the ritual would be held.
***
Before the investiture ceremony began.
“Do well. Don't mess up.”
Selena approached and tossed out a remark.
He might be a scoundrel, but he was still her brother, so she seemed a little concerned.
“I don't know which sword will choose you, but you'll get one that's a perfect fit. Don't worry too much.”
“Okay.”
Carlyle gave a short reply and left it at that.
“Brother, congratulations on your investiture.”
“Yeah.”
His younger brother, Frey, also offered Carlyle his well wishes.
Though he was a scoundrel of a brother, Carlyle was, in his own way, looked after by Selena and Frey.
Of course, the atrocities and outrages Carlyle had committed over the past few years had created a distance between them, and things were still awkward.
‘It's about to start.’
The investiture ceremony began with an oath before Grand Duke Guntram, the Lord of Decaron and head of the Sigmund family.
“...I solemnly swear.”
As members of the Sigmund family watched, Carlyle knelt on one knee before Grand Duke Guntram, who was seated on the throne, and pledged his loyalty to Decaron and the Nürburg Kingdom.
Many were in attendance, but Carlyle didn't spare a glance for anyone.
He only wanted to finish the ceremony quickly and return to his room.
Grand Duke Guntram concluded the investiture by lightly touching a ceremonial sword to Carlyle's shoulders and head.
Up to this point, it was an utterly ordinary event, not much different from a typical investiture ceremony.
However, the atmosphere changed completely when Grand Duke Guntram used a ring called the [Heart of the Legion] to create a portal to a subspace.
*Swoooosh!*
The portal to the [Cradle of Swords] shone brightly.
“Go.”
Grand Duke Guntram said to Carlyle.
“Go, and bring back your sword. My son.”
“Yes.”
Carlyle nodded readily and slowly walked toward the portal.
After Carlyle disappeared into the Cradle of Swords.
“...I wonder if he'll even be chosen.”
Grand Duke Guntram muttered to himself, unable to hide his concern.
And for good reason; the Succession Swords slumbering in the Cradle of Swords possessed a slight sense of self.
A Succession Sword's characteristics were established and changed as it passed through various owners, based on the disposition of its creator.
As such, it was no exaggeration to say that no Succession Sword would choose a scoundrel like Carlyle.
If there were any…
‘Avaris, or perhaps Baramund.’
[Avaris] was a bizarre sword, completely unpredictable, while [Baramund] was the very embodiment of madness.
In Grand Duke Guntram's mind, only such swords would deign to choose Carlyle.
The probability of being chosen by any other sword was, in reality, hopelessly low.
“Do not worry.”
Maranello whispered to Grand Duke Guntram with a smile.
“No matter what anyone says, he is Your Grace's son. What you fear will not come to pass.”
“But...”
“Have faith in your son.”
“I don't understand. For you, who knows the boy better than anyone, to say such a thing.”
“Is it not because I know him well that I say it? Heh heh heh.”
“Hmm.”
Grand Duke Guntram looked unconvinced by Maranello's words.
It was because Maranello didn't seem to be offering mere formal pleasantries, but genuinely appeared to be expecting something.
“We shall see.”
With that, Grand Duke Guntram returned to his throne to wait for Carlyle's return.
***
The Cradle of Swords was like a dark labyrinth.
Darkness surrounded it, the land was barren and dry, and the sky was a pitch-black expanse.
There, hundreds of swords—Succession Swords imbued with the souls of the Sigmund family's ancestors—were embedded in the ground everywhere.
‘How strange.’
This was the first time Carlyle had seen the Cradle of Swords.
In the game, there had never been a reason to enter the Cradle of Swords, so he hadn't even known what it looked like.
‘So, what am I supposed to do?’
No one had ever told him what to do in the Cradle of Swords, so Carlyle could only look around.
He had asked Maranello just in case, but the reply had been, ‘You don't have to do anything.’
And Maranello's words turned out to be true.
*Swoosh!*
Suddenly, the sword closest to Carlyle emitted a bright light and floated up on its own.
‘Huh?’
Carlyle knew that sword all too well.
Brynhildr, the Sword of Searing Flames.
Unusually, the sword with a green blade was a famed weapon imbued with a powerful fire attribute.
And its owner was…
‘Isn't that Gunter's?’
Brynhildr was destined to become Gunter's sword in the future.
‘Why is that sword choosing m…’
Just then.
*Swoosh!*
Another nearby sword floated up.
And that was just the beginning.
One, two, three, four…
Every sword in the Cradle of Swords rose into the air and turned toward Carlyle.
As if pleading for him to choose them…
[Notification: has chosen you.]
[Notification: has chosen you.]
[Notification: has chosen you.]
.
.
(Omitted)
“...Huh?”
Carlyle was slightly taken aback to see hundreds of swords choosing him.
It was said that in the Cradle of Swords, one would be chosen by two swords at most, or three if they were exceptionally talented.
Even his father, Grand Duke Guntram, had been chosen by only three, and Frey, the future family head, would be chosen by five.
But hundreds…
It was no exaggeration to say he had been chosen by every sword kept in this sword tomb.
And in fact, that was the case.
*Shing, shing-shing!*
The swords, the Succession Swords imbued with the souls of the Sigmund family's ancestors, each rang out and performed a sword dance for Carlyle.
As if they were courting him…
‘Is it because of that?’
Carlyle thought that the reason all the swords had chosen him might be because of his [Master of Arms] trait.
From the swords' perspective, Carlyle, who could reach the ultimate level with any weapon he trained, must have been an incredibly attractive master.
Though he himself had not a single ounce of desire to do so…
‘What should I do?’
Suddenly put in the position of the chooser, Carlyle had to decide which sword to pick.
He had to take one out, but since he didn't know all the swords in the Cradle, making a choice was difficult.
Of the hundreds of Succession Swords, Carlyle knew fewer than ten.
‘Hah. What a pain. I have to look through all of these one by one.’
Just as Carlyle frowned.
*Swoooooosh…!!!*
A black current of energy swirled from the distance, surging like a tidal wave and pushing away the swords surrounding Carlyle.
*Shing, shing-shing!*
The swords tried to resist the black current, but it was useless.
*Shhhk, shhhhk…*
Soon, black swords in the same shapes as the hundreds of swords surrounding Carlyle appeared.
These swords were like the shadows of the ones that had been surrounding him.
‘What is this situation?’
While Carlyle was stunned.
*Shing…!*
The shadow swords made a threatening sound toward the swords that had been courting Carlyle.
They looked as if they were threatening them.
Back off, Carlyle is ours…
It seemed to have an effect, as the swords surrounding Carlyle hesitantly retreated.
*Ching, ching!*
Letting out a ring that sounded like weeping…
Then, from the distance, an ancient-looking sword with a jet-black blade slowly, very slowly, approached Carlyle.
*Thump!*
Carlyle's heart began to pound.
It seemed he wouldn't have to check hundreds of swords one by one after all.