Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Real One's Different, I Said (1)
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To dispel the overwhelming presence of my uncle, who could be called a Swordmaster of this era, how much of my soul would I need to draw out?
200 years? 300 years? 500 years?
No. Even 100 years would be too much.
What I had drawn out was merely a fraction—equivalent to just a few decades out of the hundreds of years I'd lived.
Yet even that was enough for me to completely free myself from the aura he exuded.
My uncle's eyes bulged wide. His face was filled with shock and disbelief.
The old me would have felt a rush of satisfaction. Seeing that arrogant man who always looked down on me wear such an expression was quite the delightful sight.
But now, I felt nothing at all.
"..."
My uncle's gaping mouth felt utterly detached from reality.
No, it wasn't just him.
The Royal Knights, who had finally caught on to the suspicious vibe and were squinting at me suspiciously; Adelia, staring at me with a frightened face—they all seemed unreal.
"Don't covet it. Don't even think about taking it."
Even the sound of my own voice coming from my mouth felt distant, like it was echoing from underwater.
"I really hate it when people try to take what's mine."
It was like gazing at a world beyond a mirror—a profound sense of disconnection.
No vitality, no life to it.
The only sensation was a bone-chilling cold that made my soul feel like it was freezing solid.
My body trembled. My teeth chattered. It was still the heat of summer, yet white breath escaped my lips.
That was the warning sign.
A sign that my frail flesh was being eroded by the cold and darkness of a soul too vast for it to handle.
Looks like this is as far as it goes.
I buried that fragment of my soul back into the depths.
The invading chill vanished as if it had never been there. The muffled world returned to normal in an instant.
"A single ordinary knight..."
As I gasped for breath, my uncle spoke up.
"...can save the lives of ten soldiers."
His deeply sunken gaze fixed straight on me.
"A single exceptional knight can save the lives of a hundred soldiers."
His eyes burned with greed, yet held not a shred of malice.
"She might just save a thousand soldiers—or more."
His voice carried the same tone as his gaze.
He was throwing a tantrum, acting unreasonably. He knew it himself, yet he stood tall with unwavering conviction.
Conviction... was it?
As the commander of the northern frontier, my uncle bore a grand sense of duty.
"A harsh winter is coming soon. Starving monsters will cross the border..."
"No need."
My uncle's face went slack. He hadn't expected such an immediate refusal.
"Because of her, countless lives could be saved in the capital alone."
He composed himself and pressed me again.
"I said no."
My answer remained the same.
The grand duty of the northern frontier commander was his burden, not mine.
I couldn't empathize with his noble cause at all. Nor did I intend to sacrifice anything of mine for it.
"You don't understand her value..."
"Count Ballerhard, Excellency."
A clear voice cut through my uncle's gruff tone. It was Adelia.
Hm?
Just moments ago, she'd been too busy reading the room with her superiors, yet here she was boldly interrupting a count—my uncle, no less. That was unexpected.
But what was even more surprising was something else.
Look at that. That dry, icy expression.
There wasn't a trace of her usual timidity on the face she turned toward my uncle.
Right. Why not just ask the person herself? My uncle, oblivious to any subtlety, did exactly that.
"Will you come north with me?"
His face was certain his grand cause would resonate with her.
Too bad for him. It wouldn't land at all.
"I have no intention of ever leaving Your Highness's side—not even a hair's breadth."
For Adelia, the grand cause was "me."
"My body and soul already belong to Your Highness."
Her voice was so resolute it bordered on hostility. I couldn't help but grin ear to ear.
Worth pulling out my soul for, even if I knew this body couldn't handle it.
I hadn't done it just to resist his petty aura.
It was for Adelia. The war maniac addicted to blood, the timid and dependent woman.
[Slave Mentality] naturally bent her toward submission to a higher being.
And the caliber of my soul was more than enough to imprint who her "master" was.
"I cannot obey Your Excellency's words."
At Adelia's response, my uncle's face went slack again.
Being rejected by two people in a row on his grand cause must have hit hard.
"There you have it."
I chuckled.
"This concerns the lives of thousands! How can you all be so reckless?!"
Even as my uncle sputtered pathetically, I kept smiling.
"If you're so worried, stop hanging around here and head back to your territory to save them yourself. A knight of your caliber could probably save at least eight or nine thousand."
He glared at my blatant mockery. I cleared my throat and smoothed my expression a bit late.
"Let's get this straight while we're at it."
I understood his feelings, but my uncle's constant nitpicking was getting tiresome. Time to draw a line.
"The request from the Queen that brought you here is already fulfilled. There's no reason for you to keep showing up every day anymore."
The Queen's request to my uncle had been to discipline me during my confinement. He'd said the best he could do was help me lose weight.
And now, my confinement was over, and I'd slimmed down beyond recognition.
"If you insist on visiting, I'll receive you as a guest. But keep to a guest's etiquette."
No nagging, no meddling, and don't eye my possessions (Adelia). At my conditions, he scowled and glanced at Adelia.
He still seemed reluctant to let go.
"What can you do? I'll host you as a guest. Or..."
I glanced toward the distant entrance, and after a long silence, he replied.
"I'll stay as a guest."
"Break one rule, and you're out."
His face twisted in frustration at my words.
But he swallowed his anger, shooting sidelong glances at Adelia—the sight was comical.
Heh heh. I couldn't help but laugh.
**
Even after that humiliation, my uncle kept coming to the palace. To see Adelia.
But Adelia offered only the bare minimum courtesy before treating him like he was invisible. He hovered around her, grumbling, desperately trying to strike up a conversation. It was almost pitiful.
Occasionally, he'd thump his chest with a face full of unspoken words, like he was about to burst.
Spit it out already. Die from frustration.
I watched the scene with great pleasure.
Seeing my haughty uncle fawn over Adelia like that was my own little pick-me-up.
"Tch. Before the sword goes dull, his elbow bends first. No wonder he can't put real power into his strikes."
After about two weeks of relative quiet, my uncle sidled up and muttered under his breath.
"You talking to me?"
He pretended not to hear.
Hm. Her form is off a bit.
As he said, Adelia's posture had started to slip from fatigue after repeated swings.
"Adelia. Straighten your elbow."
At my curt instruction, she corrected it immediately.
"You should relax your shoulders a bit more."
"Your gaze keeps wandering."
As I relayed his advice, my uncle piped up eagerly. I stared at him impassively.
"Ahem."
Getting the hint from my gaze, he cleared his throat and stepped back.
I shook my head and returned to my training.
Adelia was adapting to the sword far too quickly. At this rate, my meager skills wouldn't be enough to guide her much longer—it felt like fire was scorching my feet.
"Hoo."
I took a deep breath. Energy gathered at the sword's tip. A clear sword cry rang out.
I inhaled, slashing downward. Exhaled, sheathing the blade. Then repeated.
How many swings later, a crystalline hum pierced my ears.
Vmmm.
It was unmistakably a sword cry.
"Hm?"
I turned to see Adelia holding her sword straight, staring at me.
Shockingly, the cry had come from her blade.
The resonance faded quickly.
"Haa, haa."
Panting heavily, she still watched me.
"W-Well done."
She smiled shyly at my praise, clearly pleased.
But I couldn't smile.
I had taught her how to infuse mana into the sword, sure. But I hadn't expected success this soon.
Even if it was just a fleeting moment due to insufficient mana, success was success.
A terrifying talent.
Damn. Gives me chills.
It felt like a madman with a knife was chasing me from behind. A cold sweat prickled my back.
"You don't mean..."
My uncle's voice came then. I turned to see his face frozen stiff.
"You gave her a Mana Heart too..."
His voice trembled despite his efforts to suppress it. I shrugged indifferently.
"So what?"
"Wasn't it enough for you to learn such vulgar tricks?!"
I pointed toward the distant entrance.
"Out."
He flinched but pressed on.
"She had a far better path. Potential beyond your wildest dreams. And you ruined it all."
His tone was calmer now, but laced with deeper fury.
I pointed to the entrance again instead of replying.
"Shall I have the Royal Knights drag you out?"
At that, he whirled around, declaring he'd leave on his own.
"Tch."
As I clicked my tongue at his retreating back, Adelia sidled up.
"Is what I learned a vulgar trick?"
I shook my head.
"No. Absolutely not."
The Mana Heart nestled in her chest was identical to the one her ancestor, Sword Marquis Agnes Bayern, had possessed.
Small and unremarkable now, but in time, it would unleash monstrous power just like hers.
A genuine article.
"Then why does His Excellency say such things?"
She was asking more questions than usual today. As expected of Sword Marquis's descendant— she had real drive when it came to the sword.
"No idea."
I glanced at my uncle's back as he vanished through the entrance.
"The people of this era have completely forgotten what a real Mana Heart is like."
The mighty light dragon felled by a Mana Heart. The giant king who ruled the continent, toppled by a Mana Heart.
Calling that a vulgar trick? Absurd.
"If they hadn't forgotten, they wouldn't have discarded it like trash."
"I see."
She nodded, taking my word for it.
"You'll know soon enough."
I was certain the day would come soon when she'd see what a true Mana Heart was.
And.
That day arrived far sooner than I'd thought.
"Looked like he swore he'd never come back."
My uncle, who'd stormed off in a rage, showed up after about a week—black wooden sword in hand.
"Draw your sword."
I stared blankly, wondering what this was about, and he spoke flatly.
"Prove it yourself. That you're not wrong."
He raised his wooden sword.
"I'll use just a single link."
"What?"
"If I so much as shift half a step, you win. I'll acknowledge you then."
I gripped my sword loosely.
"What was the bet again? Granting a wish?"
"If you want our family's secret techniques, I'll teach them. Any other desire, and I'll grant that too."
I shook my head. Petty swordplay held no interest.
"Not what I want."
"Whatever it is, I'll make it happen."
His solemn vow made me smirk.
"Well, let's clash and see."
This ought to be fun.