Chapter 277: I'm Quite Good at Setting Traps (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 277: I'm Quite Good at Setting Traps (6)
He had told them to stick close to Siona.
He hadn’t told them to pick a fight with her.
Perhaps he should have been more specific.
Since they were outside the palace, Franz hadn’t expected them to be training. He’d simply assumed they’d be messing around, maybe getting into some ridiculous bet or just relaxing in their own ways.
But when he returned, forty corpses—no, forty members of his unit—were lying, or rather, strewn across the sandy beach.
For a moment, he thought they had been ambushed.
“That doesn’t look like a spar. Did the men ask Siona to teach them something?” Calian asked, watching the forty men scramble to their feet as the two princes approached. It was obvious they’d only been knocked down by a blow or two, so he wasn’t worried about any serious injuries.
Hearing Calian’s question, Franz pondered for a brief, yet deeply serious moment.
“...They did not.”
“I see.”
Although Calian didn’t look entirely convinced, he nodded without pressing further.
Whether or not he knew what Franz was thinking—I can’t tell you they wagered you in a bet—Calian had already pieced together the situation. Preferring not to meddle too deeply in Valkan’s affairs, he let out a soft chuckle.
“Why on earth do they keep lining up just to get beaten down?” Calian muttered to himself. His chuckle grew until it blossomed into full-blown laughter.
Once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. Even as he headed back to his quarters, announcing he was going to get some rest, his laughter echoed for quite some time.
Deliberately ignoring his younger brother, Franz dismissed everyone. “Go inside,” was all he said, but the meaning was clear: wash up, sleep if you need to, and rest.
“Division Commander Jeia.”
“Yes, Vice-Commander.”
“Stay.”
The only one held back was the pink-haired, overworked middle manager.
With both Calian and Franz gone, the men had ended up in this state, and Needlen had absolutely no excuse. He had asked Siona to show them how a warrior of the Great Desert fights, not how a Sword Master who happened to be a warrior of the Great Desert fights.
He’d been tricked. Elves truly couldn’t be trusted.
In any case, with just six rings of her bell, all forty of them had collapsed. The two princes had appeared at that exact moment, and Siona had vanished with lightning speed.
The throbbing in his solar plexus from the bored Sword Master’s light tap hadn’t even subsided, but Needlen bowed his head first.
“I am sorry.”
“Forget it.”
The response was unexpected. He wasn’t being reprimanded.
“I have something to ask.”
To Needlen’s utter astonishment, Franz continued. It wasn’t just that Franz had a question, but that he was stringing so many words together.
After listening to Franz’s question, Needlen nodded, about to answer when his face lit up with a sudden memory.
“By the way, Vice-Commander, it might take some time to answer your question. Before that, would it be alright if I showed you something first?”
Even though Needlen was changing the subject, Franz simply nodded. Soon, Needlen pulled something from his robe. It was a Space Pocket, a tool they were all now familiar with.
As he fumbled to open it, Needlen remarked, “Prince Calian seems to be in a good mood today. He’s laughing more than usual.”
“My younger brother didn’t laugh today,” Franz replied.
Not understanding the meaning behind those words, Needlen stared at Franz, but the prince offered no further explanation. Franz’s expression didn’t invite any questions, so Needlen shut his mouth and quickly began rummaging through the pocket, feeling an urgent need to change the subject.
He shoved his arm into the fist-sized bag up to his elbow. After a moment, his face brightened as he found what he was looking for and pulled his hand out. Seeing what emerged, Franz furrowed his brow slightly.
“...What is that?”
“It’s a conch shell, Vice-Commander.”
It was a large conch shell, the color of pale sand.
Needlen mimicked holding it to his ear. “If you do this, you can hear the sound of the waves.”
Siona had told him it was a way to hear the ocean in Kairis, a land with no sea. Although Needlen already knew of it, her reminder had prompted him to try it for himself. Having heard the sound for the first time, he now handed the shell to Franz.
“It’s fascinating. You should listen too, Vice-Commander.”
Franz took it and held it to his ear as Needlen had shown, quietly listening to the sound of waves echoing from within.
“It’s the prettiest one the men found after you went out this afternoon, Vice-Commander. Since your birthday is coming up, we wanted to give it to you as a gift.”
A birthday present.
Not pearls or mother-of-pearl, but a simple conch shell. Not some rare gem acquired through great hardship, but a shell the Valkan members had spent hours searching the beach for.
Franz remained silent, listening to the explanation that they had wanted to present it when everyone was gathered, but they were all too shy and had asked Needlen to give it to him quietly instead.
“...I see,” he replied after a long pause.
Understanding that the words, spoken while still listening intently to the shell, meant “thank you,” Needlen flashed a bright, refreshing smile.
* * *
The teacup smelled of neither coffee nor tea.
Gazing down at it, Alan’s expression was somewhat complicated.
—Will you be alright?
The ring on Alan’s finger glowed faintly. Calian replied to the worried question.
—You mean about my decision to go to Secritia with my brother?
—Yes. I am concerned. I know you believe Prince Franz has nothing to do with the past. However, knowing something and feeling it are two different things. I can’t help but worry.
—I told you, it wouldn’t matter even if his memories returned.
Alan didn’t reply for a moment. He traced the rim of the teacup with his finger, letting Calian’s words sink in.
Calian continued.
—By now, he’s probably just worried about what to wear so he doesn’t get grass stains. Not his Prince’s Formal Attire or his Valkan uniform, but just the ordinary clothes of an older brother.
He meant that it didn’t matter, because Franz was planning to go to Secritia—a place Calian had once visited as a king leading the Valkan—simply as his older brother.
—I wonder if a mindset can be changed as easily as clothes. I am worried he might have nightmares again.
—In any case, both my brother and I... we’re used to nightmares by now. It’s fine. We’ve woken each other up from them many times.
A soft sigh escaped Alan.
—Then, will you be alright going there, Your Highness?
—A lot of things will come to mind. It might even be nice, in a nostalgic way.
—I am asking about you standing before that man. Surely there must be a way to resolve this without you going in person.
—My lack of patience did make me worry that I might fly into a rage the moment I saw Devlan’s face. But I learned something this time.
—What did you learn?
—That there are some things you can only move past by facing them head-on. Though saying “move past” feels a bit bittersweet. At any rate, I learned that. And that’s why I intend to go. To leave it behind me.
The finger hovering over the teacup paused. Looking down at the dark, scentless tea, Alan spoke in a gentle voice.
—Did the Mother Tree of the Elves also stir your heart, Your Highness?
There was no reply for a moment.
—Yes.
His honest feelings were conveyed.
—Shall I go and give that wicked tree a piece of my mind?
—I feel like you’d actually do it, so I can’t even pretend to be spoiled and ask you to. Let’s save it for later. Just have a drink with me then.
—I shall. I will be waiting.
—I really like it when people say they’ll wait for me. Brother Chase and Father said so, too… and this time, I can actually return. It’s nice.
It was a lie he was never good at telling. The lie that he would go and definitely return.
But this time, he didn’t have to say it.
Hearing him call Chase by that title, a smile played on Alan’s lips. It seemed there would be much to talk about when Calian returned.
—Return safely.
—Yes. I’ll return safely.
With those words, the ring’s light dimmed and vanished.
“Are you done talking with your new son, Grandfather?” Veronica asked Alan, who had been staring at the spot where the light had faded.
“You noticed already?”
“I know you got a son. Mom knows, too. Dad probably does as well.” Veronica smiled, looking at the jewel-like flower growing by the window, not yet taken to the mansion. “I liked him, and Mom liked him, but probably not as much as Dad did.”
A smile formed on Alan’s lips. He tapped the teacup with his fingertip.
“By the way, how am I supposed to drink something this bitter?”
“You haven’t been sleeping well lately, Grandfather. It’s bitter because it’s medicine, so stop grumbling and drink it,” Veronica said with a stern face, looking at the man who appeared only ten years her senior.
After staring at the deep brown liquid for a long time, Alan downed it in one gulp, making no effort to hide his reluctance.
Veronica, who had come to sit beside him, checked the empty cup to ensure not a drop was left, then pulled out a box of chocolates. Alan quickly took one and popped it into his mouth, his grimace gradually softening.
“Our roles are reversed, you know. Usually, you should be the one giving me this, and I should be the one complaining.”
“Bitter things just don’t suit my palate. What can I do?” Alan grumbled again to his granddaughter, who had the exact same hair but completely opposite tastes. There were so many delicious, sweet, and healthy things in the world, yet she had given him such bitter tea. “Still, I’ll let it go. If it weren’t from my lovely granddaughter, I wouldn’t have even touched it.”
As a gentle smile appeared in Alan’s eyes, Veronica’s expression mirrored his.
“Alright. I’ll let it slide,” Alan said to Veronica, who seemed to grow taller every time he saw her.
“Yes. Now, what can I help you with?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Smiling at her feigned ignorance, Alan spoke again. “I thought you brought this bribe because you needed help with something. If not, then never mind.”
Though he looked much younger than Arsen, he was every bit Veronica’s grandfather on the inside. Veronica tapped the top of her head with her palm. “Stop reading my mind.”
Alan let out a pleasant laugh at her cute grumbling. Watching him, Veronica pursed her lips before speaking with determination.
“I want to quit the magic academy.”
“Then do so.”
Veronica’s eyes widened. “You’re not even going to ask why? You’re not even going to talk to Mom? You’re just deciding on your own and saying ‘sure’?”
“I have already spoken with her, so do not worry.”
“Mom isn’t mad?”
“Rachel might be angry that you’ve been skipping school, but she isn’t the type to get angry about you not wanting to do something.”
“Then Mom isn’t upset?”
“Why would she be?”
“Because I want to do what Dad used to do.” Having declared she wanted to become an apothecary like her father, Ronil, instead of a mage like her mother, Rachel, Veronica stared at Alan’s empty teacup for a moment before continuing. “I couldn’t tell her because I was worried she’d think of Dad. Mom said it before. That you have to forget to live.”
Veronica, repeating the words she had once said to Hina and Demirea, looked at Alan. Staring blankly at his warm smile, she spoke in a small voice.
“I’m sorry, Grandfather.”
She knew Rachel wasn’t the only one who would be reminded of Ronil whenever they saw medicine.
“Could such memories truly be forgotten just by trying? In the end, you remember everything. You simply learn to accept it.”
Saying this, Alan reached out and patted Veronica’s head a few times. Veronica giggled softly before hugging him tightly.
“Live your life doing everything you want to do. Don’t worry about a thing.”
Pat, pat.
Alan smiled once more as he comforted his granddaughter.
* * *
—Ring.
Atop the hill overlooking the sea and the Mother Tree of the Elves, the faint sound of a bell rang out. Sensing that the sound was full of discontent today, Calian smiled mischievously.
“Don’t laugh. It still hurts.”
“You messed with my people first.”
It was midnight on a hill overlooking the dark, silent sea.
After his conversation with Alan, Calian had been drawn to the peaceful sound of the distant waves, only to find Siona, who had fled earlier. Without a word, he had lunged at her to avenge his men.
“What an ill-tempered prince.”
“Better than a cheating elf.”
Calian shot back, glancing at the grumbling elf massaging the spot on her neck where his blunted red sword had struck. He lightly tossed something to her.
Catching it reflexively, Siona looked at it in surprise. “I thought you said you didn’t trust elves.”
“That’s because you’re a warrior of the Great Desert.”
“I thought you said you disliked warriors of the Great Desert, too.”
“That’s because you’re an elf.”
Siona let out a dry laugh and tucked the Black Pebble she had just received from Calian into her clothes. “I’ll make sure not to use it for anything strange.”
“Do whatever you want,” Calian said with implicit trust, casually sweeping back his wind-ruffled hair.
Raven approached on silent hooves and stood behind Calian, who was sitting on the grass. Calian stroked the underside of Raven’s lowered chin a few times, then leaned back against his long, black forelegs as if being embraced.
“Why did you come up here alone, Your Highness?”
“To see the sea. And I’m not alone. I came with Raven.”
“I see.”
“Why did you come here?”
“To see the sea.”
“I see.”
After a few awkward words—somewhere between friendly and distant—silence fell once more. Calian turned his gaze back to the distant sea.
“I knew your mother,” Siona said into the quiet.
“Of course you would. She was the Queen.”
“We lived together in the Bridget Forest before I went to the Great Desert.”
“...I see.”
At his response, which sounded as if nothing could surprise him, Siona turned her head to look at him.
“My life has been a bit too extraordinary to be surprised by something like that,” Calian explained nonchalantly, knowing exactly what she was thinking. He answered calmly without even looking at her as Siona continued.
“I was born in the Bridget Forest, and Freya was exiled there. Until I was about twelve… before I left for the Great Desert with my master, Karte Hill, Freya and I got along reasonably well. I haven’t seen her since, though.”
Calian nodded.
“I don’t remember much because I was young, but I do remember she was incredibly beautiful.”
“I know. After all, I look like this.”
Siona, looking slightly dazed by his matter-of-fact reply, chuckled. “Your personalities seem a bit similar, too.”
Calian was about to say there was no way his personality resembled Freya’s, but he offered a different reply instead. “Anyway, thank you. For telling me.”
Did Siona’s mention of “black hair, red eyes” before she attacked him mean she recognized him as a Sword Master, or as her friend’s son? Did she know why Freya had come to Kairis? Had Freya’s family lived with her, and if so, how had they treated her?
And had his mother been happy there?
—Whoosh…
Letting the many unasked questions wash away with the quiet waves, Calian let out a short sigh. Siona watched him for a moment, then brushed herself off and stood up.
“Are you going to stay longer?”
“Yes. You go on ahead.”
“Will do.”
Nodding, Siona walked down the hill with light, swift steps. The faint, rhythmic sound of her bell gradually faded into the distance.
In its place, the equally rhythmic sound of the waves filled the air.
The deep blue sea, which he might not see again for a long time, or perhaps ever. A sea that looked no different, just silent, even with his enhanced vision.
“That’s what they call the sea, Raven. Take a good look,” Calian said, suddenly disliking the silence.
Raven snorted in response and, as if he truly understood, lifted his head toward the water.
“We might not be able to see it again.”
Calian stared at the sea for a long time. Raven stood silently, supporting his master’s back without rushing him, his large eyes also filled with the sight of the sea.
Then, suddenly, a single blue light reflected in Raven’s black eyes.
Raven tilted his head.
A single blue light floated upon the sea.
Then another.
And another.
The blue lights swaying upon the waves multiplied.
Before the dark waves, before the sea, he could see them. Needlen was there. Cain was there. Mages in pure white robes were there.
Upon the dark waves, upon the sea, Needlen’s blue light was set afloat. Cain’s blue light was set afloat. The blue lights of the mages were set afloat.
He didn’t know the exact date of that final day, but this was its anniversary—the day the prince had departed, with his brother bidding him a final farewell.
The blue lights, created by mages who had obediently followed their Vice-Commander’s order—Forget everything else, just get out there and cast some magic with a solemn heart—continued to multiply. Blue lights, which Calian didn’t even know how to create, kept appearing.
“...Ha.”
A soft sound escaped Calian’s lips.
One by one, the blue lights multiplied, tiny flames swaying with the waves.
His pale older brother, draped in a pure white cloak, came into view. A single blue flame resting on his hand was reflected in Calian’s red eyes.
“He’s sending one up again…”
On the night when blue stars drifted across the sea, Calian smiled.
For the first time today.