Chapter 193: My Sword (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 193: My Sword (5)
Sharp.
If Calian’s sharpness was like a hidden dagger, Bern’s was like a massive, unsheathed sword, ready to be swung at any moment.
And Chase’s sharpness was like a hawk’s gaze, piercing a field mouse from high above. It was not a sharpness that cut or wounded, but one that perceived with unerring accuracy and judged with cold precision, no matter the opponent or the subject.
In other words, insight.
“I do not know if Your Highness is already aware, but there are times when a thick scent of blood clings to the Prince.”
He already knew that people around Bern had a habit of vanishing without a trace. He knew why they disappeared, and he knew who was behind it.
Devlan.
Chase knew all too well how Devlan reigned over the nobles. But…
He had never truly understood the nature of the sword Devlan wielded. He hadn’t even imagined it.
To think a father would do that to his own child…
“I speak of this now because I can no longer bear to watch.”
It had taken far too long for those words to reach him.
He didn’t resent Teilan, wondering why the man had merely watched for years before finally speaking up, or how he could still call himself the boy’s master.
He understood that Teilan could not have trusted him.
For Chase, too, was Devlan’s son—the spawn of a snake.
Was he not the older brother who had ascended to the position of Crown Prince by extracting an oath of loyalty from his own younger brother? Chase recognized that Teilan couldn’t have easily confided in someone whose true intentions were unknown. He understood that Teilan had merely watched from the sidelines, terrified that any intervention might create a larger wave that would sweep Bern away entirely.
Therefore, Chase did not resent Teilan.
Instead, he blamed himself, wondering if his own sin was the greatest of all—one so grave he had no right to resent anyone else.
Even so.
Could he truly call himself an older brother?
“Everyone makes mistakes. I don't think you're that perfect of a person, Your Highness. I don't know what you did wrong, but you should fix what's wrong right now. Why are you regretting it? Do you have time to waste?”
Arianne’s words were always sharp, and the blade attached to them snapped him out of his stupor. He observed, and his insight grew clearer.
He acted on his decision.
– A practitioner from the rattlesnake's den is heading toward the great nest of Nevillad.
Around that time, Devlan was suffering from an illness.
It was of unknown origin, and his condition worsened by the day.
Having been born the son of a concubine, he had struggled to reach the position of Crown Prince and had ascended to the throne only after crushing his half-siblings with his own hands. Unwilling to lose the throne he cherished so dearly, Devlan ultimately ignored royal law and summoned a healer from Tensil.
And a spy Chase had cultivated, one of Devlan’s own “faithful birds,” gathered the information that the healer was heading to Secritia and reported it.
“Sir Castrin.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I would prefer it if the bloodline of a traitor never sets foot on my land.”
Chase chose to uphold the law, not Devlan. Protecting his younger brother from their father in such a manner—that was Chase’s choice and his decision.
Had Devlan met the healer, his illness might have been cured. If not, he might have at least met his end with less pain, or perhaps more quickly.
“The healers. I have disposed of them all.”
But nothing in this world can be perfect.
Flawless, pure white cannot exist.
“Father.”
Soft-hearted Chase.
Even he was Devlan’s son, the spawn of a snake.
* * *
– I remembered a bit more about the Axis of Time.
An answer did not return immediately. Chase spoke once more.
– I sent a letter via hawk, but I contacted you in advance because I thought you might be waiting. The details will be in the letter, so please check it.
He had recalled the characters written on the Axis of Time. However, just as Bern had been unable to, Chase could not read them either. So even if he recalled them, it was not something he could explain in words. Still, the reason he went out of his way to contact him was simply…
Or perhaps it was because he’d promised to contact him even when there was no reason at all. Just because.
– …I am worried that you might have overexerted yourself.
Instead of thanks or apologies, Calian’s response was pure, unconcealed worry.
It felt as if Calian’s voice was right beside him.
He was worried because Chase had made contact sooner than expected. He had clearly said he didn’t remember well, so Calian wondered if he had pushed himself too hard, or if in doing so, he had brought back unpleasant memories.
Chase was about to tell him not to worry, but instead nodded meekly and replied.
– Actually, another memory surfaced along with it. It wasn't a pleasant matter, and it startled me for a moment, but I'm no longer shaken by it.
Saying this, Chase lifted his teacup, took a sip, and after briefly dwelling on the unexpected memory, spoke again.
– Because I know that even if I were to face the same situation now, I would still make the same choice.
Bern would have done the same.
If Bern were here, he would have faced the same situation, made the same choice without hesitation, and walked the same path. So Chase was the same.
He did not remember why Devlan had committed such cruel acts. He briefly thought that perhaps there had been a clear reason for it.
Nevertheless, he felt no disappointment or regret for what he had decided and carried out. He knew that he, Chase, was not the kind of person who could hide behind Bern's shadow to shine alone.
Even if it was a clear wrongdoing, he would not second-guess it. That was the faith Chase had in himself.
– So do not worry. I am fine.
Hearing this, Calian felt a flicker of unfamiliarity. He had no way of knowing what Chase had chosen, or what that unpleasant matter was.
Was it about the Axis of Time, or something else? As he pondered this, Chase’s voice came through again.
– I also saw Arianne in my memories. I was surprised because her words were even harsher than they are now.
Calian let out a chuckle.
Arianne was the very person who had taught Bern how to get under someone’s skin. Though not quite on the level of Alan, who had taken the glory of Serenti, Arianne still possessed a sharp tongue. And Bern, in turn, had learned her ways, perfected them, and taught them right back to her.
It was no wonder her words had been harsher back then.
– I wonder how she is now.
Instead of pointing out that this, too, was due to Bern’s absence, Calian merely replied with that. Chase would know even without being told.
There was no need to point out the void Bern had left, a void felt even by the person who now stood by Chase's side.
– Aside from her words being just a tiny bit less sharp, she is the same as always. Still fighting well, scolding well, and comforting well.
That’s a relief, Calian thought, nodding silently.
Chase’s words continued.
He had contacted him for no reason, yet there was so much to say.
– I have informed Sir Castrin of the truth.
Ah.
What a relief.
Truly, what a relief.
– I was worried about what to do if he didn't believe me, but fortunately, he doesn't seem to think I've gone mad. I barely managed to hold him back as he tried to get up and head to Kairisis immediately.
Calian smiled.
He smiled because there was finally one person who knew Chase’s situation and could stand by his side, and he smiled because the possibility of having to block the sword of the continent’s first Sword Master had vanished.
– Thank you.
That was why Calian said it.
It was thanks for speaking out instead of suffering alone, and thanks for holding back the ever-upright Teilan.
If it were Teilan, he would truly be a great source of strength. Just like Alan.
– Sir Castrin said the same. He thanked me for sharing my burden, and he thanked me for letting him know that he liked his own end very much. He said thank you for various other things, too, but I've already forgotten them all.
He left out the part about Teilan crying.
No matter what, the man was his former master; his dignity had to be preserved.
Bern, who had embarked on the Path of the Sword at the age of twenty-one.
Chase also didn’t mention that Teilan was grateful to hear he had raised such an incredible disciple, one who had realized the truth of the sword two years earlier than himself.
This was partly because he now understood why Bern had been forced to become a Sword Master so quickly, but mostly because he realized that no matter how much he explained, Teilan could not remember the name ‘Bern.’ That was why he could not pass those words on to Calian.
– There is something else I didn't tell Prince Calian back in Kairisis.
Saying this, Chase tapped the table for a moment.
In truth, there were quite a few things Chase hadn’t told Calian in Kairisis. The fact that he had been prepared to give up everything and truly kill Franz if necessary; the fact that he had met Randel in Chermil and given him a warning that wasn’t quite a warning; the fact that his heart had been complicated upon seeing Arsen; the fact that he had spoken Bern’s name to Franz, though Franz had likely forgotten it by now. There were quite a few things.
– I brought a sword with me. I wanted to return it to you if it was indeed yours.
The pure white steel sword that Bern used to wield.
The sword of Bern Neriad, the knight and husband to the Great King of Secritia. A man who had become a truly unforgettable hero, just as his name implied. Chase had brought that very sword to give to Calian.
But he had been unable to hand it over.
He thought it might be too cruel.
Whether he understood that sentiment or not, Calian chuckled softly. Then, he replied in a voice that sounded completely unfazed.
– I am using a different sword. So, I would like Crown Prince Chase to use it.
At these words, Chase’s face showed a hint of surprise. Calian had never mentioned that he was learning the sword. Though Calian couldn’t see it, Chase stared down at his bracelet with an undeniably surprised expression.
When there was no reply, Calian spoke again.
– I realized it when you served me coffee. Come to think of it, you were far too relaxed for someone staying alone without any guards. That's why.
He had seen the calluses on Chase’s hands.
– By the way, there is a crazy mage around me who wants to break any sword he sees. He is so beautifully mad that it's hard to explain, so if you happen to run into him, please do not show him your sword. I hope it doesn't get broken this time.
Arsen Hertz.
There was not a single hint of hesitation in Calian’s voice as he spoke of him. Chase felt relieved once more.
It seemed Calian was not holding out alone in a place as terrible as he had imagined.
– The blue-haired mage. I will be careful, Prince Calian.
Since Chase also knew that Arsen wasn’t as terrible a person as he had imagined, the chilly feeling that came with his name lessened slightly.
– …My name.
Calian said.
For a while, nothing followed.
Only after Chase had taken about three sips from his teacup and set it down did the next words come.
– You may call me by whatever name you wish.
It was a request not to hold back, even in this conversation that no one else could ever overhear. It meant that letting go of the name was Calian’s burden, and Chase did not need to share that weight.
Chase smiled faintly.
He quite liked the hint of mint he seemed to taste in the coffee he had brewed for the first time in a long while.
– When we have a drink. I will do so then. Later.
Calian’s laughter carried over the connection.
A gentle voice followed.
– By the sea.
– Yes. By the sea.
* * *
He chuckles, then laughs, then chuckles and laughs again.
My younger brother really seems a bit strange.
No, actually. He is strange.
Anyway.
Whether he’s strange, crazy, or mad, and whether he laughs or not, I don’t care.
But this is my room.
As their conversation, which had started the moment the dishes were cleared, showed no signs of ending, I was wondering when I should kick out this strange younger brother of mine—who is technically my brother but feels like someone else’s, yet is still my brother, though he acts like an old man—when…
Knock, knock.
A knock sounded at the door.
On behalf of his extremely busy younger brother, Franz called for the person to enter, then turned his head to see Relic entering alone. The tea was later than usual, and Yan was absent; he figured there must have been some other business among the servants. As Franz sat there without much thought, his brow furrowed slightly.
The scent of coffee.
Clack.
A dessert of thinly sliced, dried mandarin oranges dipped in chocolate was set down. And with it, Relic placed a beverage that would pair wonderfully with the sweet and sour treat.
Yes.
It was coffee, the exact same color as the chocolate.
Having finished his conversation at some point, Calian briefly glanced at his ring, which was no longer glowing, before his gaze settled on the coffee.
“Not that.”
Franz spoke.
It meant to bring something other than coffee.
Relic, who had learned to instantly understand such brief remarks through blood, sweat, and tears, stepped forward to take back the coffee he had just set down.
Seeing this, Calian raised his hand slightly.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll enjoy it. Thank you.”
Thanks to that, Relic bowed and left without having to make a second trip.
He wore a look that seemed to say, Ah, so the Prince living on the third floor actually says thank you, completely unaware of how severely Yan would scold him once he found out he had served coffee to Calian.
Around the time the door clicked shut behind Relic, Calian looked at Franz with a highly surprised expression. Although he had never drunk coffee in front of Franz, he had also never shown his dislike for it.
Quietly raising the cup, Calian took a sip, set it down, and spoke.
“With that level of quick-wittedness, my dear brother, you won’t starve wherever you go.”
“Stop barking and get out.”
Taking a bite of the chocolate-covered mandarin, Calian tapped the coffee cup, which was still mostly full. It meant he would leave on his own once he finished drinking, so Franz should wait.
“I’m busy.”
At that, Franz lightly tapped the cardigan he was wearing. It meant he had a lot of work to do after changing, so Calian should get the hell out of his room.
A pure white cardigan.
A long cardigan.
Seeing it, Calian recalled something he had forgotten. Something he shouldn’t have forgotten, but had temporarily slipped his mind because his circumstances and mood had been so poor.
“Brother.”
Calian called out to the thoroughly boiled pea, whose face was a mask of irritation.
Come to think of it, why on earth was this bastard holding our Hina’s robe last time? He had already held back once back then, and just a moment ago, this guy had even dared to utter her precious name—a name so delicate he feared it might wear away just by speaking it.
“Would you care for a spar?”
He smiled brightly, completely forgetting that Franz had said he was busy. It was the relieved smile of someone who had just realized they had narrowly avoided holding back twice.
After that, he took another sip of the fragrant coffee.