Chapter 35: The First Letter (35)
Chapter 35: The First Letter (35)
“If I become troubled... if I must be troubled... only then will Senior Ian...”
As Seria’s monologue continued, the light in her eyes grew faint. The sight of the beautiful girl repeating the same words over and over like a doll under a spell was chilling in its own right.
It was around then that I felt an indescribable sense of crisis.
You could call it a sort of intuition. A voice from deep within my heart telling me that I had to stop her.
I instinctively called out her name.
“Uh, Seria? I mean, that’s true, but... are you okay?”
“Ah, a-ah! Yes! I-I... what was I saying?”
Only then did Seria snap back to her senses. Realizing she might have been rude, she hesitated and cast her gaze downward.
It seemed she had done it unconsciously. Was she still half-asleep from her meditation?
That happened sometimes. The deeper you immersed yourself in meditation, the harder it became to return to reality.
I shook my head as if it were nothing.
“You were just, well, repeating what I said. Are you still a bit dazed from the meditation?”
“...W-was I?”
Seria’s face flushed red, seemingly embarrassed by her lapse in focus. Her emotions were unusually visible today. Normally, I had to look closely to read how she was feeling.
I figured it was because we had grown closer. Thinking that, I gave her shoulder a light pat.
“Let’s just swing our swords for a bit. I feel like I’m still half-asleep too; I’m about to start yawning...”
And as if on cue, a yawn escaped my lips. I did it hoping she would feel less embarrassed. Perhaps sensing my intention, a soft light flickered in Seria’s eyes as she gazed at me.
She spoke quietly, as if she couldn't help it.
Her voice was warm—though I suppose I should add the qualifier, 'warm for her.'
“...Yes, Senior.”
After that, she was the usual Seria.
As if the display from moments ago had been a lie, Seria engaged in her training with her usual solemn and cold expression.
Her sword path was always concise and faithful to the basics. It was a testament to how long she had trained; lately, I had been following her example and gradually increasing my own training hours.
Even so, our styles were polar opposites. While I enjoyed using tricks and unconventional moves, Seria often followed the textbook to the letter.
Some might point to that as a weakness, but the 'textbook' is a collection of the most optimal sword paths refined over generations. Naturally, among swordsmen of the same level, one who is faithful to the basics tends to be quite strong.
It’s just that being that faithful to the basics is difficult. Everyone has their own inherent tendencies, and to follow the textbook perfectly, one must completely suppress them.
Seria was currently demonstrating the simplest way to achieve that.
Training until the muscles remember, until it is engraved in the unconscious, hammering the sword path into her very being.
It was terrifying effort. Beyond mere seriousness, her resolve felt almost desperate.
I suddenly recalled the conversation I had with Seria not long ago.
On the day her mother was kicked out, Seria said she heard these words from her half-sister:
‘If you can’t prove your worth either, you’ll end up just like that.’
What was Seria thinking as she watched her mother, who was being trampled and screaming, reach out to her daughter? What did she feel as she watched everything she knew being miserably dragged away?
It was clear that the memory of that day had planted a specific emotion within her. Perhaps that was why she had been swinging her sword so desperately until now.
Sometimes, certain memories nail a person into a corner like a curse.
So that they can never escape, life becomes restricted from that day forward, and happiness becomes a luxury. I simply prayed.
I prayed that the memory of that day wasn't such a horrific nightmare for her.
But no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't help but worry. Experiencing something like that as a child would almost certainly leave a deep emotional scar.
However, Seria hadn't brought it up since then. So, I decided not to speak of it unless the right moment presented itself.
Peering into someone’s intimate memories carries a weight of responsibility. I still wasn't sure if I had the right to do so.
It was then that I discovered another strange thing about Seria.
As Seria held her breath and infused her sword with Aura, the color was subtly different from before.
In the past, it had been a clear blue Aura, but now it had shifted to a darker hue. It felt more like a bright navy.
Aura symbolizes a swordsman’s Mental Imagery. Since most swordsmen fix their imagery at the same time they form a Mana Core in their body, it is rare for the color to change.
Even if it does change, it usually happens very slowly over a long period. Since the color of the Aura is the manifestation of one's Mental Imagery, it is a very important matter for swordsmen.
Later, when one reaches the rank of a high-level expert known as a Sword Expert, the characteristics of the Aura diverge, and those characteristics depend on the color.
Swordsmen call this the ‘Unique Color.’ If there are thousands of Sword Experts, there are thousands of Aura colors. Thus, the color of the Aura is treated like a swordsman’s fingerprint.
But since such an important color had changed, I couldn't help but be flustered. I immediately called out to her.
“...Uh, Seria?”
“Yes, Senior?”
Seria looked at me, tilting her head as if wondering if something was wrong.
There wasn't a hint of doubt or fear on that innocent face. That made me ask with even more bewilderment.
“I think the color of your Aura has changed?”
“Ah...”
Only then did Seria seem to notice, her eyes widening as she looked at her own Aura.
However, even after noticing such a significant change, her reaction was incredibly nonchalant.
“...You’re right.”
“It’s not just ‘you’re right’! Do you know how big of a deal this is?”
I racked my brain, trying to deduce the reason why Seria’s Unique Color had changed.
Has there been any change in her recently? For Mental Imagery to change, there had to be a very decisive psychological shift. Not just at the level of conscious thought, but something deep enough to affect the Unconscious.
Even if the color had only darkened slightly, such a change required a shock on the level of altering one's way of thinking or values.
Mental Imagery becomes increasingly important as one reaches higher realms. I had heard that Seria had only just set foot into the realm of a Sword Expert, so a change in her imagery could affect her combat style or her existing sword paths in various ways.
This was why I was so baffled by her reaction. Her sword path remained the same, yet only the color of her Aura had changed?
But despite my reaction, Seria gave a faint eye-smile as if it were no big deal. That flustered me even more.
It was the first time I had seen her give an eye-smile.
“Don’t worry, Senior Ian. I don’t feel any immediate problems. Since I’ve only just become an Expert, the characteristics of my Aura haven't bloomed yet anyway.”
When she smiled like that with her level of beauty, my heart couldn't help but flutter a bit—I am a man, after all. It felt like a surprise attack. I awkwardly cleared my throat and looked away.
“Ahem, cough... Still, your Aura color changed; you should be more worried. Wait, now that I think about it...”
Recent events flashed through my mind.
The sight of Seria suppressing her tears.
Because the memory of her mother had been trampled upon, perhaps there had been a change in Seria’s heart. As that thought occurred to me, I felt my mood sink.
It might be poking at her wounds. After hesitating for a moment, I finally spoke with a sigh.
“Seria, about... your mother.”
Seria’s eyes went wide, as if she hadn't expected me to bring that up.
Soon, her gaze drifted to the floor. The strength seemed to drain from her body.
Her eyes looked lonely and desolate. She pressed her lips tight.
I asked her again, gently.
“...Are you okay?”
“I’d like to say yes, but...”
Seria shook her head with a bitter look in her eyes.
Of course. She had received such a painful wound as a child. It would be a lie to say it hadn't left a scar. And recently, hundreds of people had swarmed in to pick at that very spot.
It would be strange if the wound didn't reopen. The atmosphere around me grew heavy as well.
“There’s no point in lying to you, Senior Ian... No, actually, it’s hard.”
“The reason you learned the sword...”
“It was after that day.”
As I thought. If so, it made sense for her Aura color to change. It was a matter close to the very reason she picked up a sword. If that wound was reopened, it could happen.
I didn't voice that deduction. Now was the time for Seria to speak.
“Do you remember what my sister said to me that day, Senior Ian?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, speaking as if exhaling a held breath.
“I remember. I know what she said.”
“That’s when I thought: ‘Ah, I have to prove my worth if I want to survive.’ Being kicked out of your home at that age... that’s what it feels like.”
My head lowered silently. To be honest, I didn't really know. Even though I had undergone harsh training since I was young, my family was fundamentally harmonious.
Because I grew up receiving love, there was no way I could truly understand the emotions of someone who hadn't.
That wound, that emptiness, all the struggles of a girl who had to grit her teeth and survive alone at that age.
I didn't know. But instead of giving that answer, I chose silence. It was my way of trying to empathize with her emotions as much as possible.
Seria seemed busy refining her memories of the past. Her sword slowly pointed toward the sky. The tip of the blade glinted in the sunlight.
“I’ve proven myself through the sword. Without the name ‘Yurdina,’ I am nothing.”
“You’re already a great swordsman, even without the Yurdina name.”
“But I’m not as good as a ‘great swordsman of Yurdina.’”
Through that exchange, I finally began to understand Seria’s heart a little.
I spoke again, my voice quite low now.
“...So, did you want to beat your sister? To prove to the family that there is no Yurdina better than you?”
“No, it’s a little different.”
As she said that, various emotions could be seen in Seria’s eyes.
Faint fear, anticipation, and resolve.
“I want to prove it to myself, not the family.”
I remained silent and just looked at Seria.
Why did this girl, who seemed so strong and haughty, look so fragile and unstable?
The expression 'glass art' was perfect. Beautiful and delicate, but so likely to shatter at a single touch that I couldn't put my mind at ease.
“That I’m no longer the little kid who could only watch and cry like I did that day.”
That must be it.
The reason I couldn't help but pay extra attention to her.
Sincerely, I hoped she would achieve her goal.
Training ended a bit early that day. However, Seria and I talked for quite a long time. By the time we finished, the warm light had returned to Seria’s eyes.
It was a relief. That was why I didn't realize it then.
I didn't realize the error in my tentative conclusion that her Unique Color had changed because of the memories of her mother.
If that were the case, it would have changed when the bullying was at its peak. If that were the case, Seria wouldn't have acted as if she were noticing the fact for the first time today.
Then there was only one answer. Between yesterday and dawn today, she had experienced some intense emotional shift.
But at that time, I didn't know that. And I probably wouldn't for a long time after.
* * *
When I left the forest with Seria, the weather was brilliant.
The sun, having just stretched its rays, was distributing its golden blessing evenly across the land. I frowned slightly at the blinding sunlight and used my palm as a visor.
It was time to part ways with Seria. I usually had breakfast with Celine or Reto.
However, today, Seria was hesitating again, not leaving my side. And the moment I took a step, I felt a tugging force pulling at me.
My bewildered gaze turned toward Seria. She was holding onto my sleeve. When my questioning eyes met hers, Seria seemed to realize what she was doing.
Startled, she let go of my sleeve. Her face began to flush.
“Th-th-that... S-Senior Ian. This is, I mean... ugh... I mean...”
Seeing her trip over her tongue again, she must have been incredibly flustered. I couldn't help but chuckle at how cute she looked.
“What, do you want to stay together longer?”
“Th-that’s...”
Seria, flustered by my direct question, waved her hands in denial before finally giving up and hanging her head. A voice heated with shame escaped her lips.
“...Yes.”
Surprisingly, Seria seemed to be the type who got quite lonely. I thought she would be more of an individualist since she had been alone for so long, but perhaps it was the opposite—now that she had her first friend, being alone felt even lonelier.
Well, it wasn't like there was a rule saying I had to eat breakfast with Celine or Reto. Although we implicitly gathered at a certain time, we often skipped if we had a bad hangover or something.
In that case, eating with Seria wouldn't be bad. I was also worried about whether the bullying had truly stopped.
Just as I was about to nod...
“Ah, Ian... no, Noob Oppa!”
From afar, someone called out and waved. A beaming smile and a vitality that could be felt even from a distance.
It was Celine. She waved at me with a delighted face, then quickly pretended to be sulky as she remembered yesterday’s events.
‘Noob Oppa’? Isn't that a bit much? I looked at Celine with an absurd expression.
It was then that Seria’s body flinched and stiffened. She seemed particularly uncomfortable around Celine, looking around restlessly as if she didn't know where to put her gaze.
Celine was the same. Approaching me with her characteristic light steps, she scowled the moment she realized who was standing next to me.
She briefly wore a cold expression before deciding to ignore Seria as usual and flashing a smile at me again.
Though that smile looked a bit angry.
She slapped my back a few times as a sign of greeting. But her strength was no joke, and I unintentionally let out a wheezing sound.
“Ack, cough! Hey, Celine...!”
“What a coincidence, huh? A total coincidence, Ian Oppa. You’re going to eat now, right?”
I fell silent for a moment at those words. I was planning to, but I was just about to invite Seria to breakfast.
But with things like this, it was awkward to extend the invitation to Seria, who was clearly showing how uncomfortable she was around Celine.
Seria looked tense. Since Celine had shown such blatant dislike, Seria, who was poor at interpersonal relationships, likely found the sense of distance confusing. Yet, Celine was a woman with too many points of contact with me to simply ignore.
In the end, I decided to make things easier for Seria. I let out a sigh of surrender.
“...Uh, yeah, I was.”
“Good, good. Then let’s go~ Ian Oppa’s life is about half mine anyway, right?”
What on earth was she talking about? I felt a sense of dissonance at Celine’s strange word choice today, but I soon let out a hollow laugh and prepared to be dragged along by her.
Yes, that’s what I intended to do.
If only I hadn't felt someone tugging on my sleeve once more.
The source of that strength was Seria.
Celine felt it too and came to a dead stop. Her amber eyes turned toward her back. There stood Seria, gripping my sleeve.
She didn't look like the girl who would stiffen and hesitate whenever she saw Celine. I don't know what emotional change had occurred in that short time, but her eyes were so calm they felt chilling.
Even though her body was still trembling slightly.
Blue eyes and amber eyes clashed for the first time today.
And in that moment, I had the illusion that the surrounding temperature dropped several degrees.
At least, that’s how it felt to me.
It felt like something big was about to happen.