Chapter 276: I'm Quite Good at Setting Traps (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 276: I'm Quite Good at Setting Traps (5)
It didn’t matter.
Calian had gone out of his way, leaving the elven city to shatter a perfectly good boulder, likely to test if this sword could withstand his Aura and to gauge its strength. Franz also understood that, as a bonus, Calian had discovered his Aura’s color had changed.
But none of that mattered.
How great a sword he now held was of no importance. It didn’t matter in the slightest.
“Sinasta…”
A sword of light, neither purely silver nor truly blue.
—Don’t go leaving it behind. Not this time.
It wasn’t the familiar, ink-black color.
And yet, he knew.
In a world where mages sparked fire from their fingertips and knights summoned blades of will, in a world where time could be rewound, a person’s existence erased, their soul transplanted, and their very name forbidden—in such a world, this was entirely possible.
He remembered its form before it fell like a shooting star.
He remembered its form before it was scorched pitch-black, inside and out.
“This must be my real sword.”
A true Fragment of the Star.
Now that he recognized it, what did anything else matter?
“As expected of you, Brother.”
Calian nodded in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yes. It is the sword you used to carry, Brother.”
Franz stared at Calian for a long time.
Calian simply held his smile, saying nothing.
“…You.”
Never before had Calian referred to the Franz of the past in that way. He had always tried to view him as a different person from the Franz of today, and his words had reflected that.
But not now.
The ever-perceptive Franz understood the shift.
Even after the commotion they’d caused at the beach, that was ultimately an affair between the current Calian and the current Franz. Even if that incident had led Calian to truly see him as a brother, it had nothing to do with the Franz of the past. Yet here Calian was, referring to that past self in the exact same way, all while handing him a starlight sword engraved with a name only the Franz of that time would have chosen.
Franz understood the reason for that, too.
“You held back.”
He must have seen it, Franz thought.
Calian had witnessed the nightmare of that day. He had come face-to-face with the Franz of that day and had decided how to treat him. To top it all off, he had personally retrieved the sword that Franz would have carried and was now returning it to him.
That was why he was smiling like that again.
Because if he had seen the Franz of that day, he must have also seen the Royal Brother of Secritia of that day.
“Yes. He… greeted me.”
Bern. The old Calian.
Watching Calian’s grin, a long sigh escaped Franz’s lips.
“So, if someday in the future, Brother, you…”
“I get it.”
“Yes.”
From the very beginning, Franz had never considered his past self—a self he couldn’t even remember—and his current self to be separate.
It was Calian who had struggled to draw that line.
He couldn’t blame the current Franz for what had happened back then. He shouldn’t blame him.
But now, Calian was telling him he’d changed his mind. That even if, by some slim chance, Franz regained his memories, Calian wouldn’t see him any differently. So if that day ever came, he shouldn’t hide it.
Understanding that Calian had shared what happened inside the Mother Tree just to convey this, Franz cut him off. It was a conversation that needed neither to be spoken nor heard.
“You could have just burned it all down, yet you held back. Impressive, little brother.”
“Even after Sir Tessman’s explanation, I had no idea how to set a crystal on fire, so I couldn’t have done anything anyway. My main attribute is wind, after all.”
“And the blue-haired mage’s main attribute is ice.”
A small chuckle escaped Calian’s lips.
He nodded, his voice quiet.
“Even if I couldn’t agree with the method, I understood why they did it. And seeing him again, even like that, made me a little happy. So I just came out quietly.”
There are many teas with wonderful aromas and tastes, but sometimes, one must offer bitter medicine with no scent at all.
Just as Calian had done for Franz, and Franz for Calian.
“…I see.”
Franz was reminded of Sispanian, who had offered comfort by wishing death upon someone who’d confessed a fear of being forgotten. He couldn’t decide whether to curse or praise the Mother Tree for teaching Calian how to finally say goodbye to a lingering regret he couldn’t resolve himself. He simply nodded.
“I won’t leave it behind. Not this time.”
He made a promise instead.
“Yes.”
Calian smiled again. He knew this place—where birds sang, the wind blew, and clouds drifted across the sky—was far better than the familiar path in his mind, where no one stood below and a red star hung overhead.
* * *
In the beginning, a single life opened its eyes.
That pure life, blooming alone, helped the first green light take root in this land.
A single tree, sharing that life, grew. It sprouted branches and put forth leaves, becoming the source of all living things.
The tree grew massive and sturdy, gaining a will of its own. It came to know all that unfolded on this land.
—I saw you.
Entrusting everything to the flow of time, it watched.
—And I merely observed.
It remembered time turning back.
It saw many things and forgot nothing.
It did not resist. It watched as all things flowed.
—But you…
* * *
“So,” Franz spoke up after a long silence. “Why did she call for you?”
His hand still rested on the black script engraved on the sword in his lap—a name chosen by a man who had never even bothered to name his own horse.
“The Mother Tree didn’t say why she called me, and we didn’t have any special conversation.”
“Exactly. That non-special conversation. What was it?”
“Just… truly trivial things.”
Watching Calian try to hide something again, the corners of Franz’s mouth curled up.
“…No matter how busy the Crown Prince of Secritia is, surely he can spare the time to tell me the meaning of a single word in the ancient language.”
Ah, seriously.
This brother of his was always finding new ways to be a thorn in his side.
Calian shot Franz a complicated look. He’d gone and cured his weakened heart, only for Franz to turn around and threaten to ask Chase for the translation.
“I’m not telling you for your own good, Brother.”
“Whatever.”
“And why do you only speak in full sentences when you’re being difficult?”
“Because it’s necessary.”
“Then why are you usually so brief?”
“Because you get it.”
I’ve spoiled him. I’ve completely ruined him.
“So. What was it?”
I raised him this way, so I have no one else to blame. The only person I could possibly complain to is this very brother I both love and hate, so I can’t even vent. My insides are rotting, and it’s all my fault, so what the hell am I supposed to do?
“I received something that was part request, part advice,” Calian finally relented.
I have to tell him. What choice do I have?
“What did she say?”
Calian didn’t answer immediately. He recalled the Mother Tree’s words, which had echoed in his mind the moment he held the sword he had just given Franz.
—But you. This time. No matter what you come to know…
“She said… no matter what I come to know, I don’t need to conform.”
That I don’t have to follow the path laid out for me.
Seeing Calian trying to obscure the meaning again, fearing Franz would worry, Franz spoke in a calm voice.
“I’m not worried.”
“…Why not?”
“If you don’t have to conform, then it doesn’t matter what it is, does it?”
Calian chuckled at Franz’s reply. His brother had truly become an expert at being stubborn.
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing, except to open the forest path on Bridget’s side before it’s too late.”
“I see.”
With his explanation finished, Calian nodded. He then pointed to Franz’s sword and changed the subject.
“Demirea is keeping Evan’s sword. I was thinking it might be a good idea to modify the sword you’ll use, Brother, to be more like that one. What do you think?”
He was suggesting they alter the two swords Franz possessed so they could be wielded as a single blade but split into two when needed. Shaving down a completed sword wouldn’t be easy, but they knew someone perfectly capable of the task, so it wasn’t a major issue.
“There’s no need to hide that you use two swords, but Brissen’s swordsmanship is tailored to that kind of weapon. It would also be more convenient for you to carry.”
At his words, Franz looked down at the sword for a moment.
“I want to keep it.”
Although he couldn’t know what the past Franz was thinking when he chose it, he could guess from the name engraved on the blade. If the sword was shaved down, half of the letters would disappear. He wasn’t keen on the idea.
“I have good handwriting. I’ll re-engrave the parts that get erased for you,” Calian said with a smile, explaining he would transfer the missing letters from the blue-silver sword onto the ink-black one.
Hearing this, Franz stared quietly at the script before finally nodding.
“Alright.”
Half of this name belongs to Calian anyway.
* * *
The wind blew, carrying the scent of grass as two horses trod the earth.
The wind shifted, bringing the salty tang of the sea, but the sound of the two horses remained constant.
They had returned to the city of the elves.
“You should give it a name.”
Calian glanced at the massive Mother Tree in the distance before pointing to the blue-silver sword he was holding for Franz. “Your sword has a name, your cat has a name, and my horse has a name. Only your horse is nameless, Brother.”
Franz’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He wanted to say something but held his tongue. Hina’s horse at least had a name that could be signed, one that carried a meaning Hina likely wished for most. What right did this man have to comment, having named his own magnificent steed “Raven”—which meant little more than “black thing” or “large crow”?
Raven snorted, as if responding to Calian’s words, though whether in agreement or protest was unclear.
“I probably wouldn’t have named it back then, either,” Franz said.
“You think so?”
“I don’t think I was the type to place meaning on such things.”
Given his personality, Franz was certain he would have ridden Raven in the past. But he was just as certain he would never have given the horse a name. He knew himself best; he wasn’t someone who cared for such sentiment.
“But then and now are different. It’s a horse you’ll be traveling far with. Shouldn’t it have a name?”
“…Where is this ‘far place’?”
In the past, he would have assumed the little punk was planning to lock him in a tower and left it at that. But things were different now. He simply stared at Calian, his eyes asking what new scheme was brewing.
Instead of answering, Calian brought up another topic entirely.
“Brother, have you ever seen me coat a real sword in Aura? Not one of the blades I create.”
“No.”
“Then have you ever seen me shatter a rock with Aura?”
“No.”
With a sparkle in his eye, Calian created a dagger and threw it toward a boulder the size of a carriage wheel a short distance from the road.
“I detest loud noises.”
Crunch.
The sound was quieter than Raven’s snort, like a clump of dry sand crumbling.
The boulder, however, shattered into pieces and scattered across the ground, just as the one in the valley had. This time, there was no thunderous roar.
“I realized my Aura’s color had changed when I coated the new sword earlier, but I couldn’t tell how strong the blade from the Mother Tree was. I couldn’t just swing it around in the elven city, so I went outside to chop some trees, and someone was waiting for me.”
“A bird from Secritia?”
“Yes. But whether that bird was truly caught by me or let itself be caught, I’m not sure. It hid immediately, so I pretended not to notice. But as I walked, I realized there was something I wanted to show that bird.”
Only then did it click.
His younger brother was a relentless bastard who never settled for gaining just one thing at a time.
Instead of waiting for Franz to come find him, or returning to fetch him, Calian had summoned him. And he had done so to draw the attention of the spy waiting outside the city.
That was why he had shattered the first boulder so spectacularly.
“What did you want to show it?”
“A way to deceive Devlan.”
Calian turned his head toward the gradually approaching Mother Tree as he spoke.
Franz nodded slightly, prompting him to continue.
“It occurred to me that my new Aura color somewhat resembles Zeon’s. Their power is murkier, but on a bright day like this, I figured it might look similar enough. If so, I wondered if I could trick Devlan into thinking I have a connection with Zeon.”
What Calian had displayed in the valley was a transparent red Aura, one that could easily be mistaken for what they used.
“Why go to the trouble?”
“To temporarily divert Devlan’s attention. Toward Zeon.”
Franz didn’t answer, so Calian continued.
“Now that he knows I’m here, Devlan will absolutely not come. He can’t summon me and Hina under the pretext of his agreement with the elves, not when we have His Highness’s letter, and he can’t enter a place that is so clearly unsafe for him. Meanwhile, Brother Chase will try to announce Devlan’s illness before the nobles. For now, that’s the only way to keep Brother Chase’s position secure.”
“Indeed.”
Franz noted the change in how Calian addressed Chase but said nothing.
“But the Devlan I know can’t be handled with just that. If cornered, he’ll do the exact same thing he did to me.”
The words came out so quickly that Franz had no time to react even if he’d wanted to.
“You mean he’ll look for a weakness?”
A weakness.
Though Bern had never spoken of the life he’d lived, Franz already knew what that meant.
Calian nodded with a quiet smile.
“Yes. If I were in his position, that’s what I would do. I was a snake’s cub, too. And Devlan will think the exact same way I do.”
They thought the same things, but Calian didn’t act on them.
Devlan did.
“Whether it’s Arianne, or Royal Concubine Louise… my mother. He’s a man who will use anyone to strangle Brother Chase.”
That was why he had to divert Devlan’s attention.
Devlan knew Calian was here; the spy made that an undeniable fact. Under these circumstances, Devlan would also realize that any summons from the elves for ‘treatment’ was a very dangerous invitation.
“So I’m going to misdirect him. If I appear to be on good terms with the elves and seem to have obtained the power used by Zeon, he’ll investigate Zeon as well, since he’s already suspicious of me. It won’t matter whether Devlan and Zeon have actually joined hands or not.”
“You won’t be able to hide it for long.”
“No. But it will take him time to gather information. I think I can keep him occupied for a month or two. That’s more than enough. In the meantime, I just need to do the one thing Devlan would never expect.”
“And what is that?”
Calian paused, tapping Raven’s saddle. Having organized his thoughts, he spoke words Franz had not anticipated.
“In the beginning, you said you would go to Secritia, Brother. And I stopped you.”
Franz nodded.
A long, slow smile spread across Calian’s lips.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, Brother… but I’m actually quite good at setting traps.”
As if I didn’t know that, Franz thought.
“But the traps I set can’t catch a snake.”
As he’d said, Calian was a snake’s cub.
“And what I can’t predict, Devlan can’t predict either.”
“…So?”
“Brother. Do you, by any chance, still want to try some grilled cod?”
Franz didn’t answer for a moment.
He was already deep in thought, considering how to ‘persuade’ Lemain, who would surely forbid him from leaving the palace; what kind of clothes to pack and how many sets; and whether he would have to leave Lucy and Anne behind again.
And one more thing.
What name he should give the white horse that would accompany him to that far-off place.