Chapter 350: If Possible, a Dream (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 350: If Possible, a Dream (7)
A foolish endeavor.
Bern had always considered it a foolish endeavor.
“Why do you wish to learn something so cruel?”
“Because I need it.”
“I am asking what you need it for.”
“Is there any other reason to learn how to kill someone quickly? I’m asking so I can kill people quickly.”
“I say this because you seem to be confusing your position with that of the knights over there.”
“I am the Second Prince of Secritia. I know exactly who I am. I am well aware that my position is one where I should never have to kill with my own hands. I also know I must not swing my sword recklessly. And I am not asking so I can turn my blade against my father. So please teach me, Master. I need this.”
Could there be anything more foolish than a lion hoping its prey wouldn't feel pain as it was bitten to death? Yet, Bern had engaged in that very foolishness. He couldn’t remember when it started. At some point, he had felt the necessity, and at some point, he had learned it. From then on, he wielded his sword that way. As quickly as possible, in a single strike.
The style Teilan had called cruel.
A swordsmanship that never spared the opponent a second glance. Some called this swift style, which severed an opponent's breath in an instant, efficient; others called it brutal. Bern didn't care either way. No matter what label was attached to it, it was ultimately just a technique for killing people. What was there to evaluate? Thus, Bern simply wielded his sword that way, offering no other judgment than finding it foolish.
Crash! Boom!
Before he knew it, it had become a habit.
Even now, after dying once in the abyss and living a second life.
And yet.
Right now, Calian was forgetting that habit.
Since he didn’t know where the Mother Tree was beneath the earth, he normally would have verified that first. He wouldn’t have exerted his power without even knowing if she was truly there, or what her roots looked like. He certainly would have calculated what would happen once he laid his blade against the Mother Tree—whether he would lose or gain, and what the probabilities were. Only after that would he have swung his sword. As quickly as possible, in a single strike.
But he wasn’t doing that.
He was wielding his sword without calculating a single thing.
“It is not your fault, Prince.”
“Then whose fault is it?”
“It is Devlan's fault.”
“Kyrie. That’s sophistry.”
“It is the truth, not a lie. If my words are sophistry, then blame the sword you wield as well. In the end, was it not the sword you swung that claimed their lives, and not you?”
“If you're going to be stubborn, just drink your wine. Arianne said you shouldn't talk too much in front of a wine glass.”
“I am not being stubborn.”
“Kyrie. I was the one who weighed my brother's life against theirs. Not my sword.”
“You protected the Crown Prince's life, and they failed to protect their own. If it were me, and if it meant saving my sister, I would have killed a hundred or a thousand without a second thought. Isn't the claim that every single life is equally precious the real sophistry? To me, my sister is far more precious than the lives of a thousand strangers. That is only natural. The fault lies with Devlan, not you, Prince. Just as there is nothing wrong with your sword.”
“You are too generous to me, Kyrie. If it were Arianne or Eila, they would never have said that.”
“At least Lady Lin would have said the exact same thing as me.”
Rumble—!
Forgetting his habits, he unleashed everything he had always suppressed. He released the aura he usually saved for the next enemy and gathered every drop of his mana. His body already struggled just to contain his aura. Because of this, he had always rationed his power to avoid putting too much strain on his still-growing body, but now he drew upon all of it.
“You are too harsh on yourself, Prince.”
“Considering the circumstances, I'm being generous. Even for me.”
“How can you say you are being generous when you carry all the sins of the world on your shoulders?”
“I'm alive. That's why I'm being generous.”
“Just because one breathes does not mean they are truly living.”
What the Mother Tree's roots looked like, where they were, whether his attacks would work, whether he could defend himself…
…whether he could endure it.
He calculated none of it.
All to save a man who had declared he wanted to live.
“Just because a heart beats and a life continues does not mean one is living. That is not what living is.”
“How unexpected. I didn't know you could say things like that.”
“Because they aren't my words.”
“Then whose?”
“…My sister. My sister said that once. That merely existing isn't living. That such a thing isn't truly living. That's what she said.”
“Is it not?”
“No. It is not.”
“I see. Your sister gave you some good words.”
Indeed. Living was not like that.
He knew now that saving someone was not as simple as merely keeping them breathing.
He knew now.
“So, I am going to live a proper life. Therefore, you must live too, Prince. Do not just save the Crown Prince; you must live as well.”
“…As for me.”
So, was the one he wanted to save Franz?
Was the one who had begun to truly live, rather than just breathe, Franz? Was the one he was teaching, step by step, how to live, Franz? Was it really just Franz? Was the one who had come alive by saving Franz, Franz? Was the one who had fallen into the abyss of his own making Franz? Was the one he wanted to pull out of it Franz?
“As for me… I wonder.”
Was every single one of them truly Franz?
Was it really just Franz?
Without knowing the answer, he had saved him.
Pretending not to know, he had stubbornly saved him, and in the end, he succeeded.
He was furious that all of it had been rendered meaningless in an instant. He could not tolerate that it had been undone so easily. Negotiation first, threats second—he threw all of that garbage out the window and attacked. He plunged his sword toward the earth, not even knowing where the target lay.
Catching his breath for a moment, Calian gathered his strength once more.
No. He tried to.
“…”
Suddenly, Calian’s waist bent sharply.
Unable to swallow the surge of blood rising in his throat, he spilled it onto the ground. He spat it out.
“Oh dear. They’ll smell the blood and boil me again.”
A sluggish voice leaked from his blood-stained mouth. Perhaps hearing him, the Mother Tree spoke again.
“Do you risk your life over a mere dream?”
“You’re trying to kill someone who wants to live. Why wouldn’t I risk at least this much?”
“You cannot match me. It is an impossible task.”
“I’ve never lived a life where the odds were in my favor.”
“It is reckless.”
“I’ve never lived a single day without expecting to die.”
He couldn’t use magic to shatter the earth and summon lava.
He couldn’t use magic to call down lightning from the heavens, nor could he pull down fragments of stars to hurl them. Calian didn’t know how to do such things. But he was quite good with a sword. He knew how to infuse it with a wind sharper than anyone else's.
So, he raised his sword again. He infused it with the wind.
Thud!
At last, the tip of his plunging sword caught on something. Halting his attacks, Calian closed his eyes briefly to sense his surroundings. Soon, the corners of his mouth curved into a wide arc.
Since it wasn't a physical root, nothing could be seen or felt. Yet, he knew with absolute certainty.
“Did you call it a mere dream? That is no mere dream—it is a wound.”
The powerful barrier, brimming with protective energy, was lifted in an instant.
He did not miss the opening. Without hesitation, he slashed.
Calian cut the tree.
Rumble…!
An earthquake shook the ground.
Calian smiled.
The earth split open.
In the center of the village, deep beneath the ground, something transparent writhed and throbbed inside a sharp wound. Severed by the power of aura and torn apart by the force of the wind, something scattering a dark red light revealed its distinct form. Looking at it, Calian smiled.
“Every time you think of where you were cut, you will hear my voice. Even after time passes and all traces fade, you will still remember. A wound doesn't have to bleed to be real.”
His voice flowed out, soft as spring flowers.
“It will hurt. For you, too. And it won’t heal. It won’t heal until I die, until my master dies, and until someone else keeps dying. Until you die, and even after you die. Because you will remember. Over and over.”
Without even checking if what he had severed was the size of a fingernail, an arm, or an entire village, he smiled. He smiled like a pristine flower.
Thump!
His heart throbbed.
Not the Seal of Oath, but the power of Blessing stirred. Because he had drawn out a power his body could not handle, it kept pushing up the fragmented pieces.
“When I told you not to submit, I did not mean for you to do something like this. You are unwise.”
“Did you provoke a madman without knowing what you were getting into? For someone who sees the future so well, you’re quite blind.”
“Had it not been for this land, I would not have shown you any consideration.”
“Had it not been for this body, I would have already used you as firewood.”
“You refuse to lose even in a battle of words. How foolish.”
“I hate losing. Because I’m too brilliant.”
Hummmmm!
He manifested his swords again, though their numbers were significantly reduced.
He spat out another mouthful of blood, its volume significantly increased.
He didn’t care.
“Stop.”
Perhaps she had grown sick of it.
Or perhaps the cut hurt. Perhaps it had truly become a wound.
“I will open it.”
At last, the answer he wanted to hear from Danu came.
Calian spoke no further.
His vision shifted.
A familiar landscape filled Calian's eyes.
She had promised to show him a frozen world, but the time leading up to that freeze unfolded first. How incredibly kind of her. Truly, it was enough to make him swear. Nevertheless, he did not let out the harsh words that he could have spewed for hours. He was worried that the clever little Pea, who was so good at picking up bad habits, might hear and learn them. It wasn't out of consideration for Danu, but for that reason, he decided to refrain from swearing as much as possible. Instead, he spat out thick blood once more, as if it were a curse.
Afterward, he walked briskly toward his older brother, who was crouched in a ball, looking for all the world like the pea he’d been teased for being. He had promised not to dawdle, after all.
“Let’s go back.”
And so, he called him out.
He wore the face of someone who knew nothing—not of who stood behind him, what burdens were placed upon him, where the one who placed them was going, or what had transpired moments before.
“I don’t think I’m late. Am I?”
“…A little.”
“Then that’s fine.”
At any rate, the Pea hadn’t withered yet. That was all that mattered.
The world shifted once more.
The gravel beneath their feet vanished, replaced by pure white ice. Instead of ash scattering in all directions, a blizzard raged. Calian, who was about to channel his mana to cast a shield, lowered his fingers just as he was about to snap them. He figured that since Franz had already been trapped inside a tree hollow, it wouldn’t do to shut him in again. So, doing nothing, he simply walked and spoke.
“I guess we can’t finish our hunting bet.”
Franz nodded.
“Let’s say I won.”
“Why?”
“I cut the Mother Tree’s root.”
“And me?”
“You didn’t catch anything, brother.”
“I caught a pig.”
“Don’t you remember we agreed to exclude chickens and pigs? I thought you were smart, but it turns out you forget things sometimes.”
“I thought you were just good at barking, but it turns out you really do nothing but bark.”
“Why state the obvious?”
Franz, looking thoroughly annoyed as if he wanted to forget everything he had just witnessed, let out a sigh. Then, responding to the “barking,” he spoke in human words.
“If not the pig… what about the tree?”
“We agreed to exclude pigs, but we never agreed to exclude trees.”
“…Since when is a tree—”
“It traps people and talks. At that point, it’s prey, not firewood.”
With a look that said he had much to say, Franz stared at his younger brother, who was redefining the meaning of “prey.” Calian, swallowing down the blood rising in his throat with an indifferent expression, beamed. He acted as if he didn’t even realize they hadn’t left the elf village yet.
“Fine.”
Since an older brother shouldn’t try to best his younger brother, the ultimately gentle Franz decided to let him win.
“Normally, when you hear something like that, shouldn’t you argue about whether it makes sense? Why do you just agree?”
“I did argue.”
“You should have argued more.”
“You said that’s how it’s decided.”
“Still. If you hear something that makes no sense, you should persist and get angry.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Anyway, I’m saying you should look out for your own share elsewhere. Since you’re letting me win, I’ll take the victory, but don’t do this with others. At this rate, you’ll get scammed the moment you leave the royal palace. You’re really too gentle. You’re so much work, brother.”
Now possessing a face with an absolute mountain of things to say, Franz furrowed his brow deeply. Then, wearing an expression that seemed to see right through Calian's true intentions, he spoke.
“Just say it. Stop barking.”
Calian smiled faintly at the remark telling him not to hide his true feelings behind useless chatter. However, instead of speaking, he fell silent for a moment and continued walking toward the exit of the elf village. Passing through the frozen, uninhabited village, past its outskirts, and to the point where it connected with the forest.
Around the time they crossed the ice where the purple minethias flowers were trapped, Calian finally spoke the words that had been hard to voice.
“It doesn’t matter whether what you did was wrong or not. Whether the reason was justified or not, we cannot judge past faults now. No matter who it is. So, whatever you saw in there, brother, you…”
“You.”
The way he looked on the day he visited Kairis, back when that obnoxious king who loved being pampered was still the Crown Prince. A person who looked so much like him. Though Franz couldn’t get any closer, it was a man with longer hair than the Chase of that day, and with only one arm. Just as he had thought, just as he had realized—a man who had tried to look toward the distant spire, but ultimately failed to do so.
“I saw him.”
Franz spoke of that man. Honestly.
Calian’s feet, which had always moved with steady consistency, paused for a moment. He hesitated briefly, as if he had forgotten where to step.
Soon, stepping forward again as if nothing had happened, Calian looked at Franz and beamed.
“He’s really handsome, isn’t he?”
Staring at his younger brother's face for a moment, Franz let out a chuckle. And this time, too, he answered honestly.
“I didn’t see it. His face.”
“Ah. What a shame. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Can I not see him anymore?”
“Yes. I won’t show you. That face is precious.”
“I will see him. Eventually.”
“I told you, that face is precious.”
“Later. When things get better. More.”
“…Understood. You didn’t see anything else?”
“I wasn’t curious.”
“That’s a relief. I was worried.”
Franz nodded without a word.
“I’m hurt, you know. A lot. Aren’t you going to worry about me?”
“I am.”
“Okay.”
With a broad grin, Calian nodded and stepped out of the elf village.
He could feel a much warmer breeze sweeping through the forest. Before he knew it, the sun was beginning to set.
Instead of the metallic tang rising from his throat, Calian breathed in the scent of the forest. After checking on the Pea, who was following him closely this time without disappearing, he called Raven.
“Now that we have what we came for regarding my mother and Whitrin, we will never have to come to this forest again. Not that there’s anything left here anyway.”
“What about Danu?”
“I wonder if we’ll ever meet again… I’d rather not.”
At any rate, he made sure to remind himself that if he ever had to meet Danu again, he would absolutely bring his dad along. He didn’t spare a single thought for the Duck Mom, who was sitting face-to-face with three horses, anxiously waiting for her prince to return.
Since that not-so-gentle guy would get along just fine on his own.