Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: An Opportunity More Precious Than Life (2)
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Vincent grabbed Shirone's shoulders and shouted.
“Shirone! Why did you agree to this? It's incredibly dangerous! No, it's my fault! It's because your father is ignorant! So let's refuse!”
“It's okay, Dad. We just have to make sure nothing gets leaked, right?”
“It's not that simple. How can there be any secrets when people are involved? The more I think about it, the crazier it seems! This father of yours will take responsibility and turn it down!”
Shirone smiled and slowly shook his head. *I truly have wonderful parents.*
“Father, thank you.”
Vincent's face went blank. It was the first time Shirone had ever called him 'Father' with such reverence. But what was even more surprising was the fact that Shirone was shedding tears.
“Sh-Shirone…”
Shirone spread his arms wide. Then, with a beaming smile as wide as his joy, he spoke.
“You've given me the greatest gift in the world, Father.”
“Hk!”
Vincent, forgetting all decorum, burst into tears. Had he ever seen his son cry in his entire life? No, had he ever seen such an expression of pure ecstasy?
“Don't you worry, Shirone! No matter what happens, your father will protect you! You just focus on working hard and don't worry about a thing! I'll definitely protect you!”
“I'll work hard, Dad.”
“Yes, my son! My treasure!”
Vincent pulled Shirone into a hug and kissed his cheek. Witnessing the touching embrace between father and son, Olina, his mother, wiped away happy tears.
A week later.
The common butlers of the Ogent family came to pick up Shirone. They had said organizing ten thousand books would take well over two years, but Shirone, who had lived a simple life, had only a single backpack's worth of belongings.
As a condition for taking Shirone, Temuran had promised 20 gold a month. Since the family's monthly living expenses were 4 gold, it was a tremendous sum.
*When I return, will this house be a little more luxurious?* He knew his parents weren't the type, but Shirone tried to shake off his wistfulness with pleasant thoughts.
The contract would take effect the moment he stepped into the carriage.
The common butlers processed the contract with swift efficiency, and a flustered Vincent had to put Shirone on the carriage without a proper farewell.
Waiting in the carriage, Shirone was calm. He hadn't shown it to his parents, but from now on, it was crucial to keep a cool head rather than be swayed by emotion.
Closing his eyes and entering the Spirit Zone, he felt his parents, wiping their tears as they awaited his departure, through his synesthesia. Shirone moved his thoughts as if to soothe their hearts.
A warm, touching feeling permeated Vincent and Olina's hearts. It wasn't something you could call magic, but it was clear that Shirone's whole heart had reached them.
The carriage lurched, and Shirone was jolted out of the Spirit Zone. But his eyes remained closed.
Going to the Ogent family was a double-edged sword—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that could also become the worst crisis of his life.
*Can I survive for two years among such powerful people?*
Entrusting himself to an unknown future, Shirone sank back into the Spirit Zone.
* * *
The Ogent family was a renowned martial house that had produced a state-certified Grade 3 swordsman, equivalent to a general. Moreover, the head of the family, Ogent Bischoff, was a state-certified Grade 4 swordsman who served as the military commander of the city of Creas.
Arriving at the Ogent estate, Shirone was overwhelmed by the vast scenery that unfolded beyond the main gate.
A massive road cut straight through the entire property. It passed through the overwhelmingly large mansion, under an archway, and out the rear gate, stretching on to a point so distant it was beyond sight.
*So this is the famous Great Straight Road of the Ogent family I've only heard about.*
The Great Straight Road, which bisected the property without obstruction, was a symbol of the Ogent family's bold spirit.
A common butler in his early twenties sneered at Shirone.
“Heh heh, scared? No need to be surprised yet. The family members are even bigger monsters.”
“Watch your mouth. You want to lose your head?”
An older butler gave a warning. But since there was no real malice in the comment, he didn't press the matter and led Shirone through the main gate.
The Great Straight Road was not for butlers. Shirone bypassed the mansion by following a garden path that ran alongside the road.
The butlers' quarters were in a four-story circular building. When they went up to the office, the deputy butler, Temuran, was at work.
“You're here? I'll explain the task. Follow me.”
“Yes, sir. I'll do my best.”
Temuran didn't even acknowledge the greeting and headed for the library.
As the library's iron door opened with a creak, a space filled with books was revealed. The second floor, the third floor, the fourth floor—there was nothing but books.
Breathing in the smell of old paper, Shirone clenched his fists. A place like this was well worth risking his life for.
“The books here are to be moved to the new library. Your job is to sort them. I'll give you a list every week, and you are to find those books and set them aside. Work is from 9 in the morning to 6 in the evening. After that is your free time. You cannot go outside, and you are not to enter the mansion without specific orders. The butlers' regulations will be explained by a common butler. Understood?”
“Yes. When do I start?”
“Tomorrow. Unpack and rest today. Use the time to familiarize yourself with the butlers' regulations.”
From the next day, Shirone reported to the library. Once he actually began the work, he realized why this job had to be done by one person.
The document Temuran handed him listed hundreds of titles, but the criteria for classification were subjective.
For example, it was ambiguous whether a book titled 'The History of Swordsmanship' should be classified as a history book or a swordsmanship manual.
Temuran had provided a basic system, but sorting ten thousand books required a great deal of arbitrary judgment.
Shirone decided to set priorities. History was broad, while swordsmanship was specialized, so 'The History of Swordsmanship' was classified as a swordsmanship manual. It took a full two weeks just to establish such standards.
But even this work was beneficial for Shirone.
In the process of creating a classification system, he realized that all knowledge was interconnected. Music and mathematics, chemistry and the psyche, art and science—they were not so different.
Once the classification system was established, the work gained momentum. When he became able to meet his quotas on time, he finally turned his attention to studying.
Knowledge was the greatest dividing line between nobles and commoners. The knowledge he could gain here would be of immense help in the future.
Shirone decided to use his time efficiently. There were ten thousand books before him. Even with two years, reading all of them was an impossible task.
*Where should I start? Should I just read whatever I can get my hands on?*
A good idea struck him, and Shirone slapped his knee. Since all knowledge was connected, if he delved deep into one field of study, he could always supplement it with other knowledge later.
“Then what field should I delve into?”
As he pondered, the corners of Shirone's mouth lifted.
“I should study history.”
If human life was history, then knowledge had also developed along with history. Learning history first was like building the spine of a living creature.
Shirone drew a horizontal line of history in his mind. If he zoomed in on that line, it would contain all of human knowledge—religion, science, magic, mythology, literature, art, politics, war, economics—in chronological order.
“If I master history, I can supplement it with other knowledge at any time. No, I can integrate it much faster. History is truly the spine of knowledge.”
There were approximately 850 history books stored in the grand library. Shirone made his decision. In two years, he would read all 850 of them. He would build the spine of his knowledge!
From that day on, Shirone didn't return to his quarters after his work was done; he stayed and read.
He skipped roll call under the pretext of working overtime, but as a temporary hire, no one paid him any mind except for Temuran.
Reading history books was, frankly, an ordeal. For someone who had grown up in the mountains for sixteen years, it was impossible to visualize the continent's place names and figures he'd never heard of, or the events intertwined with them.
He considered memorizing everything wholesale but quickly shook his head. Memorization is recorded in the head, but understanding is recorded in the heart. Understanding even a single line of an event before moving on was the royal road to building the spine of knowledge.
Nevertheless, understanding history was hard labor.
It wasn't enough to just know the event; he had to meticulously grasp why such an event was bound to happen and how it would influence future events.
His efficiency dropped significantly, to the point where he couldn't finish a single book even after a week. He started sleeping in the library more often, and most of the time he would simply collapse as if fainting.
4 AM.
The iron door opened, and Temuran entered, holding a crystal lamp before him. Shirone didn't notice, but Temuran had been coming in at this time every day to monitor him.
He examined the book Shirone had dropped while reading. The content wasn't particularly difficult, yet the book hadn't changed in a fortnight.
Temuran scoffed. If the boy had been devouring practical books like a madman, he would have forbidden entry outside of work hours.
But now he saw the boy was completely clueless. He was just a moron with deluded dreams, all because he knew how to read a little.
“Of course. What success could a lowborn possibly achieve?”
Temuran turned away, his mind feeling much lighter. To succeed through study, one needed not only luck but also the brains to back it up. He thought Shirone, with his grand dreams, was already a lost cause.
* * *
Three months had passed since he started working in the library.
As he got used to the sorting work, his time management became more flexible, and he also learned various things through the butlers.
Among them, the most shocking fact was that the nobles didn't care one bit whether books were leaked or not.
After all, the family's secret arts were passed down directly, and nobles, who had so many worldly affairs to attend to, had no interest in whether a few books went missing.
That didn't mean Shirone was any less in danger. The nobles' generosity was built upon the rigid loyalty of the commoners. The butlers could be as ruthless as necessary to prevent even the slightest mistake.
The fact that a trivial matter for a noble was a life-or-death issue for a commoner made Shirone feel firsthand how far apart the mindsets of the two classes were.
Around the time the sun was high in the sky, the library door suddenly burst open, and a boy's voice, one he had never heard before, shattered the silence.
“Hoo, that damn old geezer. Would it kill him to take a day off on a day like this?”
Shirone blinked at the uninvited guest.
It was Ogent Rian, the youngest son of the family head. As befitting a martial lineage, he was a handsome young man with strong facial features, and though they were the same age, he was a full head taller than Shirone.
A thunderous shout came from outside the library.
“Rian! How dare you run away? If I catch you, it's an extra hundred laps around the garden!”
“Aargh! Dammit!”
Rian paced restlessly, darting between the bookshelves, until he spotted Shirone. Without giving him a chance to react, he ran over, shook Shirone, and yelled.
“Hey! Don't tell him I was here. Got it?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Rian hid under a bookshelf. Simultaneously, the door opened, and an old man's roar shook the library.
“Riaaan! I know you're hiding in here!”
He was an old man with white hair, but his shoulders were broad and he was as tall as a giant. With a white beard that reached his solar plexus, he walked toward Shirone, his eyes gleaming menacingly.
“You! Did a blue-haired, peanut-sized brat come in here?”
Shirone wondered if he knew such a person. He knew the blue-haired boy, but if *he* was the size of a peanut, how on earth did Shirone himself look in the old man's eyes?
“From the description, it sounds like the young master. Excuse me, but may I ask who you are?”
Shirone intended to buy some time by invoking the family's authority. But the battle-hardened veteran, who had commanded on battlefields for decades, saw right through him.
“I'm the sword master! The master who gets to beat that peanut! It'd be best if you cut the crap and talked fast. Unless you want to get beaten up first.”
Shirone licked his lips. To one who yearned for knowledge, a master was like the heavens. Especially if he was someone who taught under the family head's orders, he wasn't an opponent a butler could outwit with wordplay.
“Ah, I see. If you mean the young master, he's hiding under that bookshelf over there.”
“Hey! Are you crazy? Wanna die?”
Rian crawled out with a scowl on his face. Then he saw the sword master standing right in front of him and began to tremble like a leaf.
“Master, this is a misunderstanding!”
“You braaat!”
The sword master grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and slammed him onto the floor.
As Rian's body fell in an arc, Shirone closed one eye. Rian, who had hit the floor with a tremendous thud, lay sprawled out, his limbs twitching.
“Follow me, you little punk. Forget training, you need to start by toughening up your mind.”
Rian, being dragged away by his leg, craned his neck back toward Shirone. And he mouthed something.
No sound came out, but even from just the shape of his lips, Shirone could clearly hear his voice.
*You're dead.*