Chapter 134
Chapter 134
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 134
Chapter Title: 43. Northern Mercenary (1)
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The world caught on the tip of the sword split apart.
The sky and the earth both cleaved in two.
The dust never settled.
Everything along the sword's trajectory froze solid.
And at the center of it all stood Sigrun.
The silver sword forged by the elves for their noble one was split clean in half, and her grass-green cloak was torn to rags.
Her mystical silver tresses were disheveled, and frost blanketed her half-frozen body.
Sigrun placed a hand to her forehead.
Drip.
Red blood trickled down her pristine white brow.
She stared blankly at the blood staining her hand.
Then, suddenly, she furrowed her brow.
Her expression was inscrutable.
At a glance, she seemed dazed and uncomprehending of the situation, but at another angle, she looked vexed by something.
Neither was quite right.
Suddenly, Sigrun clutched her forehead and began to chuckle.
"Ah, really. This is the best."
Her voice brimmed with genuine delight.
But I could feel it.
A colossal aura swirled around her.
And within it lurked a horrifying madness.
The monster who had finally reached the realm of [Myth] after a millennium of life—
Her towering presence crushed the surroundings.
"Ughhh..."
A stifled groan reached my ears.
I turned to see Gurneh's face, her eyes glazed over.
The sword maiden who had steeled herself even for death was gone.
All that remained was a pitiful half-elf trembling in terror before this immense presence.
Her face smeared with tears and snot, Gurneh shook uncontrollably.
She still clutched my clothes tightly, making her tremors all the more poignant.
I stepped forward quietly.
A vast aura rose from my body.
The presence of my true self, borrowed temporarily at the cost of lifespan.
The myth of the elves and the myth of the demon sword clashed, each vying to overwhelm the other.
For now, it was evenly matched. But it wouldn't last long.
Unlike the elder high elf who had fully attained her presence, mine was merely borrowed for a moment.
"Run."
I gripped my sword tighter and spoke to Gurneh.
At this moment, I was an equal to Sigrun—refusal was impossible.
Gurneh backed away hesitantly.
Sigrun's laughter ceased.
Her face devoid of mirth, her serpentine eyes rolled toward Gurneh.
I stepped forward, blocking Sigrun's line of sight.
"You never intended to honor the pact from the start, did you?"
The covenant between me and the elder high elf was one of equal partnership.
By breaking it to bind and possess the other, she forfeited any right to demand anything from me.
I declared,
"The covenant is broken."
Those words were enough.
The presence that had crushed the surroundings began to waver unstably.
Her presence was damaged.
The natural price for betraying a covenant.
"Return to your forest, elf."
I declared it to her as the rightful authority granted to the covenant's party.
Her visit was over.
Sigrun made no reply.
She merely lifted the severed silver sword quietly.
At that instant, her presence grew even more unstable.
Yet despite that, she remained overwhelming, gazing down upon the world from on high.
I understood.
The source of her confidence in breaking the covenant without hesitation.
She had always intended to pay a portion of her millennium-long life as the price. She deemed it a bearable cost.
And she was right.
She had the power to endure it.
If the price she had to pay concerned only the covenant with me.
"Elves to the forests, dwarves to the underworld."
I recited aloud a portion of the Great War's armistice declaration I had once proclaimed before dwarves and elves.
She still made no reply.
Instead, she strode toward me.
But she hadn't taken three steps before she halted in place.
I looked at her coldly and said,
"Return to the forest, fairy."
Sigrun stared at me.
Her wide eyes filled with shock.
At the same moment, her presence destabilized wildly, as if it might scatter into nothingness at any second.
"How?"
The elder high elf asked me, gripped by an unprecedented binding force.
In lieu of an answer, I demanded once more that she depart.
"This is no place for you."
It was no mere request.
It was a command issued not by the human Idrian Leonberger,
but by the observer who had witnessed the beginning and end of the Great War,
and the witness to the armistice sworn by the elves.
"Begone to the forest."
The fairy, who had glided haughtily from the heights, now dragged down to the earth, glared at me.
In that instant, unease washed over me.
I gripped my sword and surged with energy.
But before I could react, it happened.
Clang.
The sword in Sigrun's hand shattered.
At the same instant, dozens, hundreds of fragments exploded outward.
Laden with the elder high elf's sword aura, which hadn't fully dispersed.
It was too sudden to block, too close to dodge.
I was utterly exposed to the sword fragments.
The silver sword shards pierced my body.
That was when Gurneh threw herself in front of me.
"Ahhh..."
Embracing me, Gurneh spewed up a gush of blood.
"Eeeeek!"
Her already pale face grew even more ashen.
The stark contrast of red blood streaming down her white face stung my eyes.
Gurneh looked at me with her pallid face.
The loathsome voice of Sigrun rang out.
"Of all times, why did the sword have to break now?"
I was consumed by utmost rage, slashing down with all my might.
Squish.
At that moment, the frozen-sealed wound on my abdomen burst open.
Damn my true self. Damn this body of mine.
It betrayed me.
Still, I swung the sword through to the end.
That was it.
I lost consciousness, and when I awoke, I was in the palace.
I sighed as I looked at Gurneh.
The search party had found me in the crevice of some rock pile somewhere on the plain, they said.
Presumably, despite her near-fatal wounds, she had desperately carried me away and hidden me, fearing Sigrun might change her mind.
I hadn't experienced it myself, but the terror she must have felt then was vividly palpable, as if I could grasp it with my fingertips.
"Hoo."
A sigh escaped me naturally.
To be honest, even without the sword maidens stepping in, I wouldn't have faced the worst outcome.
I had prepared my own safety measures, after all.
But the sword maidens didn't know that, so they protected me with their lives.
It was heartbreaking.
I didn't even know their names or faces. All I remembered was a glimpse beneath their cloaks.
So I couldn't even grieve or mourn them properly.
That tormented me more.
They had given their lives for me, yet I lacked even the memories to commemorate them.
I looked at Gurneh again.
Her wounds were severe. They said she might never wield a sword again, even if she woke.
I couldn't begin to imagine what state of mind she would be in upon awakening.
All I could do was fulfill my duty.
I resolved to do everything to ensure that poor half-elf could live out her remaining days for herself.
I planned to recall all four sword maidens I had assigned to watch Montpellier as well.
Gazing quietly at Gurneh, I asked the attendant maiden at her side for a favor.
Care for her with utmost devotion, and notify me the moment she wakes.
With Adelia's help, I returned to my room.
A day passed.
Gurneh still hadn't woken, and the sword maidens dispatched to monitor Marquis Montpellier came to see me.
Hidden behind their grass-green cloaks, I informed them of the other sword maidens' fates.
They said nothing. They merely listened impassively.
Having lived their lives like livestock, they apparently didn't know how to grieve a comrade's death.
Only their slightly ragged breaths betrayed their faint turmoil.
"Could you show your faces?"
I sighed and asked them to remove their cloaks.
They flipped back their hoods without hesitation.
"Ah..."
I let out a lament.
No two shared the same hair color or face.
They were all so different, yet I hadn't realized it.
I had only remembered the grass-green cloaks.
I asked them their names.
They stared at me blankly.
Their tongues had been cut out, preventing speech, and they couldn't write, so they had no way to convey their names.
"With your lips, if nothing else."
Only then did they move their lips.
The red-haired one with a lively impression: 'Yonaen',
The black-haired one with a calm demeanor: 'Gioneh',
The light-brown-haired one with a youthful face: 'Harun',
The pale golden curly-haired one with an exceptionally fair complexion: 'Ebir'.
"Yonaen, Gioneh, Harun, Ebir."
As I called their names, the sword maidens averted their gazes awkwardly.
I looked at them quietly and said,
You're free now. If there's anything you want, tell me.
But having lived as slaves their entire lives, they had long forgotten how to make decisions for themselves.
Instead, they looked at me with melancholic faces, as if abandoned.
It seemed they needed time.
Time to become human again after lives as slaves, livestock, and daggers in the dark.
It wasn't impossible.
If a wretch like me could pass as human, there was no reason they couldn't.
I committed the names of the sacrificed sword maidens to memory and ordered them to take indefinite rest.
I would entrust Marquis Montpellier's surveillance to someone else.
I couldn't monitor him as covertly as before, but it would suffice to prevent rash actions.
After the sword maidens left and I lay alone, Marquis Billefeld visited.
In the midst of our long conversation, the topic turned to the sword maidens.
The marquis said he would erect a monument inscribed with the names of the fallen to honor them, and adopt all the survivors as his daughters, supporting them fully in their new lives.
"Thank you."
The Marquis Billefeld, who had taught me so much when I knew nothing, would surely teach them much as well. I bowed my head in gratitude from my sickbed.
The marquis smiled, saying he ought to be the grateful one for gaining four lovely daughters in his later years.
After that, I devoted myself entirely to recovery from my bed.
Soon, Gurneh awoke, and I granted her freedom.
But she stubbornly insisted on staying by my side.
Fortunately, she recovered well without lingering effects, so I bestowed upon her a provisional knighthood.
And I urged her never to hide her face with a cloak again, to carry herself proudly anywhere.
She seemed terribly awkward showing her bare face at first, but soon adapted, following me around with her signature blank expression.
In truth, nothing had changed for her or me.
The only difference was that she now showed her face and stayed by my side.
But that difference was greater than it seemed.
With Adelia now joined by Gurneh trailing behind me, the knights even teased that I looked like a mother duck with her ducklings.
As I spent this peaceful time, urgent news arrived from beyond the capital.
"The Imperial Army has attacked the border fortress of Dotrin Kingdom!"
By then, the impure energy lingering in my body had fully dissipated, and my abdominal wound had healed considerably.
There was no reason to hesitate.
I rose from my sickbed, donned my gear,
and went to the king to report.
"I'll be back."
Perhaps due to recent events, the king retracted his permission several times and tried to dissuade me.
But I stood firm.
The clash with Sigrun had made it painfully clear.
I was still weak. I needed to grow further.
To exact the blood price from that wicked elder high elf for the sword maidens, and to ensure I never again had to borrow my true self's presence at the cost of lifespan.
"This is the last time. The last time I permit your outings."
In the end, the king allowed my journey to Dotrin.
"I thought you'd say you'd go after the war ends."
Jin Katrin grumbled that I was too late, far too late.
To him, I said since we were already late, let's make a quick detour somewhere.
Jin Katrin jumped.
Do you think a wyvern is a stagecoach or something?
Though he cursed my impudence, he ultimately complied with my request.
We stopped by the north, returned to the capital to select knights, and headed for Dotrin.
"We've arrived."
At Jin Katrin's words, I looked below.
The sky was thick with storm clouds; the weather was foul.
All I could see was the hazy world peeking from beneath the pale fog.
Yet even so, I knew.
I had reached the battlefield.
A faint scent of blood mingled in the wind, tickling my nostrils.