Flames Before the Sun (3) - The Afterglow of Victory
The chaotic arena fight had finally come to an end.
Vesta stepped back into the stands, greeted by the warm cheers of the elves.
Uushun flashed her usual boisterous smile at him, just as she always did.
“Whoa, thanks to Baatar-nim, we scored big today!”
“What? Did you really bet on me?”
Vesta chuckled, fully aware she had bet on him. Since he had won, it was all the same to him.
She thrust her fist forward.
Vesta grinned and bumped his knuckles against hers.
Other elves chimed in with their own congratulations.
“I nearly cried watching that!”
“Don’t cry on me now… we’re happy!”
With so many supporters present, simply listening felt overwhelming.
“Baatar-nim.”
This time it was Bia’s voice.
Vesta looked down at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been holding back tears for some time.
—Surely she isn’t crying?
‘Should I tease her a little?’
Honestly, he had almost been tempted, but then he thought better of it. Such things didn’t suit his pragmatic nature anyway.
Instead he asked with a playful lilt.
“Why are you making that long face? You came back with not a single scratch.”
In truth he couldn’t claim no injuries at all. He had taken beatings that left his entire body throbbing, even if no blood had been drawn.
Chances were bruises bloomed across his whole frame.
‘I got clocked in the head earlier—if my luck had been worse, I’d have a concussion right now.’
He had simply chosen not to mention it. He didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily.
Vesta had been a professional gladiator for years; hiding discomfort was second nature.
“Yes. On such a joyous day, tears or worry would be out of place.”
Bia spoke, then took one step back to give Ashtien room.
“Khan.”
Ashtien had waited patiently and now approached briskly.
“Ashtien…?”
She pulled him into a fierce embrace.
“You were harder to watch than I expected.”
“Was I that bad?”
“I worried. I was so tense I could hardly breathe.”
That was unlike Ashtien. He had thought so.
‘No. Everyone in the stands must have felt exactly this way.’
He had never fought for those who waited for him from the stands before. That was why he had been so careless.
“Still, you fought well.”
“You fought without regret, just as Khan said.”
“You remembered my words? How splendid.”
Ashtien held him a long moment longer.
“But we should celebrate a true victory instead.”
She pulled back, then turned to Ahor and placed her fist in the captain’s.
“Ahor. It is a happy day. Let us have a proper feast among ourselves. If you need goods from the caravan, go ahead and prepare.”
“Yes, Khan.”
Ahor and Vesta met eyes for a brief second.
She raised her thumb with a faint smile.
Vesta laughed at the unexpected gesture.
“Ah, yes. Baatar?”
Ashtien looked back at him. She seemed to have something important to say.
“There is someone who wants to meet you.”
“Who?”
“The head of the Arantor clan.”
“If it’s the Arantor head, then… Aruk’s mother?”
According to Vesta’s memory, the woman had been Aruk’s mother and had taught Bia as well as Aruk herself.
The nickname earned in her youth by defeating renowned figures from the Empire…
“The Imperial Sword Saint.”
Yes, that was exactly it.
*
Vesta located Muran. She stood on a hillside overlooking the brightly lit arena.
Her back was to him, yet the posture was anything but ordinary.
“Excuse me, Head of the Arantor Clan?”
Vesta approached with difficulty.
She glanced over her shoulder. The face that turned was startlingly young.
‘Aruk doesn’t look that much older than me.’
The impression of a girl, almost childlike. As an elf, she looked far too young for her actual age. One glance at her face and it was impossible to guess her true years.
“Hmph. You really are small.”
She closed the distance without hesitation. Vesta’s eyebrows twitched.
‘Closing in like flowing water—that’s natural.’
While he was surprised, Muran smiled brightly.
“We finally meet face to face and speak properly. Hello.”
The greeting was surprisingly gentle.
“Hello.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“I heard you are the head of the Arantor clan and that your swordsmanship is extraordinary.”
“That means you know me well. You are friends with my daughter, aren’t you?”
Honestly, they weren’t close friends. They were merely sparring partners—no wine-drinking or deep camaraderie.
“We spar occasionally.”
“Is that so? Keep at it whenever you have time. There’s much to learn from each other.”
‘Wonder if Aruk will learn anything.’
Muran nodded with a satisfied expression, as if she could read his thoughts.
“I heard you were looking for me.”
“I watched your fight too. Honestly, I was stunned.”
She swept a glance over his body.
“You fought with a body that still hasn’t fully matured.”
“Ha ha…”
“You spar with Aruk often?”
“We do, but only when we can. Not every day.”
“Want to try with me?”
—With me?
Vesta’s eyes widened at the sudden suggestion.
“Right now?”
“Yes. Watching you fight sparked my interest.”
Muran’s eyes curved mischievously.
“Your talent is astonishing. You might beat Aruk even right now.”
“Well… Aruk’s swordsmanship is far…”
“That is true in pure sword arts. There is no doubt. But in a duel—perhaps it is different.”
Vesta narrowed his eyes. Muran’s gaze, now very close, felt like cold steel.
“What are you getting at? There is no reason to spar with Aruk. You are a gladiator, not a swordsman.”
He offered no reply. He simply didn’t understand what she was driving at.
“Perhaps, before long, you will reach me.”
The Imperial Sword Saint’s arena?
“It is a shame, in a way.”
She sighed.
“Even if you grow as strong as I am, or even surpass me, that strength will rust quickly. Humans are granted only a short time. In ten years? Or twenty? Will you still be strong then?”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“Whenever I meet a human with talent as brilliant as yours, I feel impatient. I want to nurture that gift a little faster.”
—Five, ten years are not so long for elves, but different for humans.
“While you remain in Ainuwail, I will teach you the sword.”
Muran spoke as if it were settled.
“…What about the training fee?”
Muran’s eyes widened, then she burst into laughter.
“Kid, my instruction cannot be bought with money.”
*
A celebratory feast in honor of Vesta’s victory was held.
Originally planned as a simple gathering among the tribe, the presence of wary centaurs swelled the crowd.
Uushun was surrounded by centaurs, drinking and laughing.
She had just flipped one who had challenged her in a wrestling match.
“Heh heh. You weaklings can’t even pull a tug-of-war rope, yet you think you can wrestle me? Eh?”
“Are you an elf?”
“Then why are you centaurs?”
“These idiots.”
Uushun laughed heartily and tumbled into a brawl with the centaurs.
Normally a drunken Uushun would be off-limits, but tonight she was enjoying herself.
‘Who should I bother? Normally I’d find Ashtien…’
Right now she was sharing drinks with the Altangerel Patriarch instead.
Perhaps the matter with Arin would be settled at this very feast.
‘Now the patriarch can’t refuse.’
While walking about with a lighter heart, Vesta spotted Bia.
She was sharing a cup with her elder brother Tei.
Watching Tei apply ointment to her ankle and chin left no doubt they were close siblings.
“Bia.”
“Ah, Baatar.”
Bia approached with a playful wink, still swinging her tail.
Tei, who had once been the center of attention, scowled.
“I can’t console a brother who lost in battle.”
“An older brother who has aged cannot be consoled. How pathetic.”
“Huh.”
Tei looked genuinely dejected. He sighed heavily and came over.
“Your martial prowess was magnificent, Baatar-nim.”
“Even you, Tei-nim. That was the hardest fight I have ever faced.”
“Even though I lost in front of everyone, I felt no shame. No regret either. After all, he was a worthy opponent.”
Vesta shook his offered hand gladly.
“Now only one more remains.”
Attila.
“That is true. Honestly, I cannot picture it. His weight alone is nearly twenty times mine.”
Attila was an overwhelmingly massive centaur. He would outweigh even a bear or bull.
Could one even duel such a creature?
“I will bet on Baatar-nim.”
Seeing Tei smile with manly pride, Vesta chuckled.
“Thank you.”
It seemed he had made a new friend during his time in Ainuwail.