Chapter 248: Do Not Stop (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 248: Do Not Stop (2)
A quiet night.
Unexpected guests paid visits to the Wilhelm Pavilion and the Siegfried Mansion.
At the Wilhelm Pavilion, Arsen was surprised to see Lemain, who under normal circumstances would never be in the same room as Franz. He was no longer as tense as he had been during their first meeting, however, and managed to compose himself and speak politely.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. You are in the healer's way."
After a direct remark from a mage whose abilities far outstripped his salary—and who enjoyed Calian's terrifying favor—Lemain gave Franz a brief glance before returning to the Arpia Palace.
Meanwhile, Demirea was lost in thought, mulling over what she had heard from the very healer who had turned even Lemain away. She had been swinging her sword until late into the night and was substituting a missed dinner with black tea and pancakes when a visitor arrived.
"I have come to see you because of an urgent matter regarding the Prince."
Calian's sole knight.
Hearing the message he delivered, Demirea clenched her fists.
First, find out what the Young Duchess wants.
She felt as if the silent words Hina had conveyed were still lingering in her ears.
*
Evan was by no means young.
Yet, he had not named a successor.
It seems insane, but for someone like Evan, it's possible. Or perhaps he already has an heir and is keeping them completely hidden.
This thought sparked a curiosity.
Whatever the reason, just how incredible is that swordsmanship?
Why was the true swordsmanship of the head of the Brissen family—one of Kairis's two great knight families—kept in the dark? How formidable was it that he guarded it so fiercely, to the point of not naming an heir or revealing it to the public?
Such questions arose.
And then, he realized.
He felt a momentary imbalance, something he only noticed because he was absorbing every single one of Evan's movements, even amidst their fierce clash.
"You have a sharp eye."
"It's because I'm still young."
As he pursued that tiny doubt, the answer presented itself.
"I thought you loved to brag, but you managed to hide this well."
"In a country with no major wars or civil conflicts, when would the family heads ever have to wield their swords in public? Besides, with the elephants capable of changing their minds at any moment, we can't afford to show our whole hand."
"But you're showing it to me now. My fiancée is very scary, you know."
"Do not worry. Just like the others who have seen my sword, you won't be leaving this place alive."
"Ah, is that so?" Calian replied with a casual nod, then spoke again. "By the way, Marquis. It was your sword that was split in two. Must your courtesy be as well?"
Calian tapped the floor twice with the tip of his sword and finished with a beautiful smile.
"It's quite impolite."
At the persistent sarcasm, a heavy wave of killing intent surged from him.
Two swords enveloped in a blue aura lunged forward furiously.
Wearing a smile full of anticipation, Calian threw himself toward the swords thrusting from both sides.
Clash!
Oh dear, the Boiled Pea is in for a rough time.
He can barely handle a single sword, and now he's going to have to hold two. What a mess.
Clang! Clang!
When you finally wake up, you'll really need to eat a lot of meat.
Clang!
Clang! Clash!
You'll have to relearn swordsmanship,
and if you want to properly raise…
Clang!
…that incredibly loud cat!
Clash!
*
Time continued to flow.
Warm light flowed endlessly from Hina's hands, seeping into Franz's heart. Unlike magic, her power drew from the mana lingering in nature, so there was no risk of her own supply running out.
That was a relief, but only to a degree.
Even if her mana was limitless, her mental and physical stamina were not.
This is bad. The seal hasn't disappeared yet.
Hina's fingertips, resting on Franz's pure white shirt where her cat fur would normally be, finally began to tremble. Watching this, Arsen let out a low groan.
"…I will have them call a royal healer."
No.
Hina's firm voice, which Arsen had never heard before, rang out immediately.
"If you are worried about his magic training, do not be. Unlike our Prince, he hasn't formed a circle yet, so receiving divine power won't cause any problems."
That is not the reason. Please do not call them.
It was a firm refusal, but Hina was too exhausted to properly explain her reasoning.
"This is nothing like your previous treatments. Before, you could rest while the wounds closed, but not today. You can't hold out much longer like this. From what I can see, you're already…"
I do not want to leave him in anyone else's hands. I cannot trust them.
Arsen stopped speaking, his mouth clamping shut.
She must have grown close to the royal healers during her training, yet she still said she couldn't trust them. Hina, of all people.
"…Indeed, who can we trust? When even the Kaera has been tainted by Brissen."
In the end, Arsen nodded as if he had no choice. However, just as he opened his mouth to say that he would absolutely call a healer if things got too dangerous—
Click.
The door to the treatment room opened.
Inside, a prince of Kairis lay unconscious, attended by the Vice-Commander of the Valkan and a healer.
The man who stepped inside was someone the mages guarding the door could not easily stop, despite the delicate situation. He opened the door without knocking—an act he had likely never performed himself.
Seeing this unexpected second guest, Arsen slowly rose to his feet.
Why is he here…?
For the first time, blue eyes filled with the crispness of dawn met blue eyes so deep their depths were unreadable.
He didn't chide Hina for remaining seated, only bowing her head before returning to her work. He showed no reaction to her lack of a verbal greeting, whether he knew she couldn't speak or not. Nor did he blame Arsen for not bowing at all. This wasn't generosity; he simply had no interest in their reactions.
"You're not stepping aside."
The man, who had been staring at Arsen, shifted his gaze down to Franz and spoke.
"Do I need your permission to proceed?"
Arsen nodded, making no effort to hide his stance.
"Yes, you do."
"Even though he is my younger brother?"
"It is precisely because Prince Franz is your younger brother that I must."
"Are you worried I might harm him?"
"…It is not that I am worried, but…"
Of course, I'm not worried about the Prince who is also our Prince's brother and the Vice-Commander, but…
"I simply feel I must remain on guard."
Though it was an outright admission of doubting a prince, Randel showed no change in expression as he replied calmly.
"Do so on another day. I did not come to harm him today."
Randel's quiet eyes stared at Arsen.
After meeting that heavy gaze for a long moment, Arsen finally nodded and took a step back.
"…Understood."
He retreated, thinking that since he had allowed unheard-of magic to be used on Franz and had now let Randel in as he pleased, some part of him would surely end up broken when he next faced Calian.
Or perhaps a hole would be poked in him somewhere.
*
Calian twisted his waist to the right and thrust his sword upward.
Clang!
Whoosh!
The sword descending toward his head was blocked, and the other blade aiming for his left flank sliced through empty air.
What surprised him slightly was that even though Evan held a sword in each hand, the force behind them had not diminished.
Feeling as if he were fighting two Evans at once, Calian's expression soured as he parried the blade away.
Swish!
As Calian leaped into the air, Evan reversed his grip on both swords. He spun, unleashing a flurry of slashes where Calian was about to land.
Clash! Clash! Clash!
The sound of clashing blades rang out repeatedly.
Calian blocked the first sword, then pulled his blade back just enough to deflect the second. After parrying both, he struck upward against them with all his might, twisted his body, and slipped behind Evan.
Having completed his defense and movement in the span of a single short breath, Calian thrust his sword forward.
Whoosh!
Before the sound of tearing wind could be heard, Evan ducked. He quickly stood to track Calian, but by the time his attack was blocked, the prince was already standing in a different spot.
More.
Clang! Clash!
More.
Show me more.
Teach me everything.
Clang! Clash!
Clash! Clang!
How he reacted when targeted from behind; how he moved and planted his shoulders, waist, and legs; how he blocked attacks descending from above or rising from below; what kind of strikes he executed when holding the two swords in reverse grips; and how the two blades complemented each other in battle.
Calian focused more intensely than he ever had against any opponent, tracking and evading the paths of the swords. Moving incessantly, he targeted not Evan himself, but Evan's swordsmanship. He was stealing it.
Clang! Clang!
The clash continued.
By the time he had grown somewhat accustomed to Evan's movements, Calian paused for a brief moment to catch his breath. He rapidly organized everything he had observed and committed it to memory.
This should be enough.
He couldn't learn it as perfectly as if he were being directly tutored by Evan, but that didn't matter.
Besides, the others might have reached their limits by now.
Whether it was the Pea or Hina.
So, this was far enough.
Deciding that he could fill in any gaps with his own swordsmanship, Calian briefly widened the distance between them, took a deep breath, and lunged.
The ease vanished from Evan's face.
Clang! Clash!
Calian struck upward against Evan's descending attack of crossed swords, then deflected the two blades spinning toward him in staggered succession. Twisting and extending his sword, he slipped into the empty space between the two blades.
Seeing this, Evan pressed the hilts of his two swords together to block the blade aiming for his neck.
Before he knew it, the dark-red sword had slipped free and was lunging toward his heart. Evan dropped one shoulder, twisting his waist to evade, and thrust his other sword forward.
Calian was no longer there.
A chill!
An even denser killing intent.
Unveiled anger and murderous intent were directed straight at Evan.
He saw a pair of crimson eyes.
Absurdly, in that very moment, Evan thought of the black cat brooch.
He finally understood why that bastard had come here alone, leaving his high-and-mighty magic master behind. He finally understood why he had not used magic even once and had only fought with a sword.
If I die by his hand here, what is stolen won't just be my life…
It is Brissen.
It is the sword of Brissen.
"You bastard, all this time…!"
Clang!
Calian did not answer. He did not even mock Evan.
Calian, who had been tirelessly targeting Evan's swordsmanship with his blade, was now aiming for Evan's life.
Even the afterimages of Calian's thrusting sword were no longer visible. His footsteps, which had been faintly audible, were now completely silent. Relying on near-instinctive movements, Evan sensed Calian's presence and blocked.
Clash! Clash! Clang!
The sword rushing toward his neck exceeded the speed Evan could block. Sensing his end, Evan poured strength into his hands. Deciding that even if he died, he would not let Calian off easily, he abandoned all defense. Calian's sword approached like a bolt of lightning.
But at that moment.
Step.
The sound was unexpected, utterly devoid of wariness.
"Grandfather…"
It was a young voice, sounding as if it had just woken from a deep sleep.
A sudden halt.
That voice held back the dark-red sword.
Calian's eyes shook as he reflexively looked toward the source of the voice, which came from behind Evan.
A single room at the end of the hallway.
Standing before it was a young child with eyes and hair of a green far deeper than Franz's.
Even though he knew it wasn't.
Even though he knew it was just an unrelated child.
An heir. Yes, it's that child. He intended to make that child his successor. It must be Lennon's or Gray's child. To pass down the family's swordsmanship without being threatened by his two sons, it would have been better to make one of their children the heir. That's why he hid the child in this mansion to teach them in secret.
Even though he had logically pieced all of this together in an instant—
Brother…?
He had made an absurd mistake.
Evan's sword was already tearing through the wind, rushing toward him.