Chapter 134: Cornerstone of Understanding (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 134: Cornerstone of Understanding (2)
It was a wondrous sight.
How could red and blue meet and blend so naturally?
He had been sitting there, losing all track of time, when he noticed the view outside the window growing steadily redder. The sky, split into two completely different colors, didn't look the least bit strange. Gazing at the sunset, the archmage, lost in thought, murmured a rather sentimental line.
"I wonder if even that seamless blend is a blessing from Serenti."
In truth, it was a very un-mage-like thing to say. However, the subject Alan was currently agonizing over was not something a mage would typically ponder, so it was of little consequence.
—About two hundred years ago, a scholar named Shion Gerard claimed that ‘human power can also create sacred artifacts.’
—There are no records confirming his place of origin or personal background, only a note that he went missing while searching for a way to prove his theory.
That was the summary of the investigation results Euria had handed over.
Since she had found this after scouring every theology-related book in the Mage Association's archives, it would be impossible to obtain more information without visiting Tensil. In fact, he doubted any other country even possessed accurate records of such an absurd claim.
As his thoughts drifted, the coffee he had set down had gone completely cold. Wasting his precious abilities for a moment, Alan used his mana to reheat the coffee and took a sip of the bitter brew.
"Creating a sacred artifact…"
The same words he had uttered to Euria the previous day slipped out once more.
Whether it was the bitterness of the coffee or the realization that someone had tried to cross a line that should never be crossed, his mouth felt dry and acrid.
Popping a coconut cookie into his mouth—one that Lemain's attendant, Raul, had packed for him some time ago—Alan fell deep into thought again.
"Our prince already has more than enough to worry about. I wonder when the best time to tell him would be."
He had to inform Calian of this record, which was deeply unsettling even if he couldn't be sure it was related to the current situation.
Come to think of it, he said he was going to meet Prince Randel again.
He recalled Calian mentioning that he would be meeting with Randel once more.
To prevent Calian from facing Randel with the preconceived notion that this information might be linked to Tensil, Alan decided it would be better to tell him after the meeting.
Nodding to himself, his thoughts settled, Alan turned his gaze back outside the window.
"Is a guest coming?" he muttered, standing up.
Wondering if it was too late to serve coffee, he began to brew a slightly weaker batch anyway.
As he savored the aroma of the fresh brew, his guest arrived. It was, of course, Chase.
"I was hoping I might find you here at this hour," Chase said as he sat down.
Alan nodded in response. "His Highness keeps this old man so busy I can't even leave the palace."
In truth, he hadn't left because he was deeply troubled by matters concerning Calian, but he simply used his workload as an excuse. He spoke first to Chase, who was sitting quietly, staring into his coffee.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind."
"It's difficult to hide anything from you, Sir Manasil," Chase replied with a quiet smile. "I came by to see you earlier today, but I happened to run into the Vice-Commander of the Valkan."
Ah, Alan thought, his expression faltering for a moment.
The look on Chase's face was identical to the one Calian had worn when he first recalled Arsen, clutching his chest.
After all, Chase had been the Commander of the Valkan—he had been Franz's sword. That meant Arsen himself must have been the one to end the lives of both the King and the Royal Brother.
"Ah. I am fine," Chase said, noticing Alan's expression.
Alan clicked his tongue softly.
Even Calian, who had saved Franz and was trying to reach out to Randel, could not forget the cold steel that had pierced his heart.
How could it be any different for Chase?
Yet here he was, with a face that clearly remembered that sensation, claiming to be fine. Chase had witnessed it once and experienced it once.
"I know it's not something I experienced firsthand in this life, and I believe the same thing won't happen again. So, I am fine."
"Most people can't do that. They're only human."
Calian had accepted Arsen. He had saved Franz. And because Chase trusted Calian, he said he was fine.
Yet, they said Bern had never forgiven Devlan for nearly causing Chase's death. And Chase had not forgiven the White Eagle for the attack on Calian.
Calian never even tried to learn why Franz had tormented the original Calian. Aside from feeling sorry for taking the original Calian's place, he made no effort to understand why Lemain had been so indifferent.
He was afraid that if he knew their reasons, he might start to understand and eventually forgive them.
"How can the two of you be so selective with your understanding?"
No matter how far in the past it was, emotions were bound to get mixed in. How could they draw such a sharp line, as if with a ruler, between what belonged to the past and what did not? And now Chase was doing it too.
"In the end, it was that child who set the boundaries. I am merely following them."
"You both are truly remarkable," Alan finally said, his tone full of lament.
Chase just smiled quietly. "I didn't come here because of that. I have a message for him."
"Why ask me to pass it on instead of meeting him yourself?"
"The breaking of Tensil's carriage axle was likely no accident."
Chase made his request as if he hadn't heard Alan's question at all. Alan frowned slightly, but even though Chase noticed, he continued without acknowledging it.
"Please tell him to keep that in mind."
Tensil's carriage axle.
It was the accident in which the former King and Crown Prince of Tensil had both died. This was news to Alan.
He couldn't fully comprehend what Chase was saying, but since it seemed to be related to Tensil, Alan nodded for now.
"I'll deliver the message."
"Thank you."
"So, when do you intend to depart?" Alan asked, as the scheduled end of Chase's stay was drawing near.
"I am still contemplating what to do."
"When I think of the prince, I want to keep you here forever. But then again, I feel like I should push you to return to Secritia immediately…"
A low sigh escaped Chase's lips at Alan's conflicted words.
It was likely because he, too, shared the exact same thoughts.
*
The sword Calian manifested was sharper than any other.
Only a select few—Suleiman, Arsen, Demirea, and Kyrie—could fully withstand it.
Looking at the unique blade in Calian's hand, one corner of Franz's mouth curled upward.
"So that's it."
It was because of Franz that Calian had been forced to reveal this power, nearly ruining everything.
And now, he was finally seeing it for himself.
Until this moment, Calian had only ever used iron training swords when sparring with him. Franz knew exactly what it meant for Calian to draw upon his true power.
Calian truly intended to teach him his swordsmanship.
"I've never seen Marquis Brissen's swordsmanship, but I imagine it's quite different from what you know, brother," Calian said, tapping the ground with the tip of his sword. "I doubt what Evan Brissen passed down to the knights, and what those knights taught you, was the true swordsmanship of the Brissen family. That's not his style."
"Probably," Franz nodded quietly.
He had been thinking the same thing.
If anyone were to succeed the Marquisate of Brissen, it would be Gray or Gray's son. There was no reason to teach Franz the authentic Brissen style. Evan had nothing to gain by teaching it to someone who might one day ascend the throne.
Calian's grip tightened on his sword. "Of course, the same goes for me. I've never shown you my true swordsmanship either, brother."
His reasoning was similar to Evan's. He had thought there was nothing to be gained by showing Bern's swordsmanship to a member of the Brissen family.
As the tip of Calian's sword rose slightly, the look in Franz's eyes shifted. Sharp and tense, like a wolf facing a predator, he fixed his gaze on the blade.
Seeing this, a wide grin spread across Calian's lips.
"If you just stand there watching…"
The moment the words left his mouth, Calian vanished from Franz's sight.
In a real fight, no one waits for a signal. Thus, even when he wasn't the weaker opponent, Calian always initiated his spars with a surprise attack.
"...you'll die."
A low, whispering voice drifted from an indistinguishable direction. Franz swung his sword.
—Clang!
A blade slightly heavier than Kyrie's blocked Calian's attack. Immediately after, Franz's sword sliced through the air. A series of heavy impacts rang out, punctuated by the sound of tearing wind.
Franz's sword was not weak.
Not by any means.
He wouldn't lose easily to Demirea; Calian reckoned Franz would win two or three times out of ten. Considering the difference in their training time, Franz was undoubtedly talented. He had the bloodline, after all.
—Whoosh!
—Clang! Clang!
Calian's sword, which seemed to radiate a biting cold, clashed against the dark-colored blade, creating a fierce din. The sharp, rushing strikes were blocked by the heavy aura of the opposing blade, and the exchange continued relentlessly.
Deflecting a sword lunging for his heart, Calian thrust his own blade forward, spinning with the momentum. Franz twisted at the waist, letting the attack slip past before slashing down diagonally.
—Clang!
Seeing Calian block the strike with a sword he had recovered in the blink of an eye, Franz shoved his blade away. No one counted the exchanges. There was only a continuous stream of sharp attacks and seamless defenses.
Calian's figure vanished once more.
His speed was on a completely different level than before.
In reality, he's probably even faster than this, Franz thought. How in the world does anyone achieve that kind of speed?
—Whoosh!
Sensing a sharp presence rushing from behind, Franz spun around and brought his blade up. Sure enough, a heavy impact resounded as his sword blocked Calian's invisible blade just inches from his brow.
"Think too much, and you'll die too."
Annoying bastard.
"Stop your damn barking," Franz replied, his brow furrowed as his eyes grew sharp once more.
A brilliant trajectory sliced through the empty air.
It was aimed in a completely different direction—neither where Calian had been standing nor where he seemed to be heading.
—Clang!
The sound of clashing metal tore through the air.
Forced to an abrupt halt to deflect Franz's attack, a smile played on Calian's lips. In that split second, Franz had read his trajectory and predicted his next position.
Clever as always, Franz.
Calian kicked off the ground.
His body soared higher than his own height, distorted for a moment, and vanished. Quickly calculating where Calian would head this time, Franz turned to the right and thrust his sword.
And then—
—Slash!
An unpleasant sensation prickled his neck, followed by a bone-chilling cold.
A sword like a shard of glass, extending from the complete opposite direction he had anticipated, had lightly grazed his throat.
His neck had been cut again.
Calian's victory.
*
Warmth gathered in Hina's hands.
After giving Calian a piece of her mind, she began to heal the cut on Franz's neck. Watching her, Calian's eyes narrowed as a memory suddenly surfaced.
The reason the past Franz had gone out of his way to obtain meteoric iron for his sword… perhaps it wasn't simply because it was a rare material.
The owner of the other sword might not have been Duke Siegfried.
One sword was used by Franz, while the other, a blade capable of holding aura, was sent to the Siegfried estate. He now thought that perhaps it hadn't been sent for Suleiman. And perhaps…
"My expectations are high, brother."
"Again."
Calian correctly interpreted that as 'Still running your mouth,' and simply ignored the remark. Hina, who had been listening to their exchange, smiled softly and gestured.
—All done.
Since it wasn't a deep wound, it healed quickly.
His wound fully healed, Franz stood up and walked out of the training ground without another word. After watching his retreating back for a moment, Hina turned her hands toward Calian.
—I'm glad.
"About what?"
Hina, wearing her usual sun-bright smile, offered her reply.
—Because it seems like the kind prince and the good prince have gotten much closer.
…Um. Hold on.
There was one word in there that shouldn't have been.
Calian's steps came to a halt as he watched the gestures of his precious Hina. It was because of a single word he knew he would see eventually but had absolutely no desire to see so soon.
Tossing aside the rational thought that she should at least be able to distinguish between 'the prince I like' and 'a good prince,' Calian spoke, a beaming smile on his face.
"Could you wait a moment, brother?"
My dear, hated brother… you bastard. Get back here. We're sparring one more time.
It was an incredibly lovely smile that carried that exact meaning.