Chapter 173
Chapter 173
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Wandering (?) Swordsman
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Prime Swordsman Ronhart.
He suddenly recalled the conversation he'd had with Gorein yesterday.
It had started with Ronhart asking if Gorein knew anything about Rishir.
"Ronhart Gong. Rishir is indeed a man of remarkable talent."
"Of course he is."
"...However—"
"Hm? However?"
"I'm not sure if it's the same kind of talent that you, Ronhart Gong, are expecting... That's the part that concerns me somewhat."
"Haha. Gorein, for all my faults, I have quite the eye for people. There are those cunning types whose true nature is hard to discern now and then, but in that regard, Rishir is refreshingly straightforward. In a good way, mind you."
"I agree on that point."
"Those eyes of his, holding both strength and gentleness. Like a willow tree soaked in rain. You could see his whole life at a glance. That boy must have been born weak. Incredibly so, compared to now. But he's gone through countless trials and reached where he is today."
"Is that... so? My insight is lacking; I hadn't seen that far."
"It's not easy for someone weak who gains power to hold onto upright ideals. The power the weak wield tends to take the form of poison or violence. Tell me, Gorein. Does that boy strike you as someone who would swing his power recklessly and hurt others?"
"Truth be told, I don't know much about him. It was a brief exchange. Even so, I know he's not the type to wield his power carelessly."
"Oh? What did you see?"
"Humility and respect."
"Hm. Virtues that those with power are most prone to possess, and ironically, the ones farthest from them as well."
"Indeed."
"Then let me ask once more, Gorein. Do you truly doubt that boy's talent?"
"Yes."
"?"
"Actually, I'm not sure if 'doubt' is the right word... Urgh. It's hard to explain in words— In any case, have a deep talk with him tomorrow, and you'll understand what I meant."
Ronhart had kept Gorein's stubborn warning in mind, considering the possibility of some hidden side or deviation in Rishir.
'No way... he likes drinking or gambling!?')
Having raised countless disciples, such things were Ronhart's nightmares.
So he had steeled himself against those two vices—
But this?
'Astrology out of nowhere?'
It was a perfect ambush, striking at the Prime Swordsman's blind spot.
Astrology was a form of sorcery infused with the mysteries of magic, rare even among sorcerers and mages due to its uniqueness.
For a swordsman to mention it, of all people?
'I'd take drinking or gambling...'
Ronhart thought that for a fleeting moment.
He had guided sword disciples lost to drink or gambling many times, but never one sunk into astrology.
Not to mention, he'd never even seen a swordsman who dabbled in it.
Ronhart knew little of astrology, being a pure swordsman, but he knew it wasn't a pursuit for the lighthearted.
Especially not for a swordsman, walking a path utterly apart from it.
Thus, his concern over Rishir's deviation(?) was inevitable.
The awkward atmosphere that came with the mention of astrology.
As Rishir waited for Ronhart to regain his composure, the Prime Swordsman finally spoke again.
"Ahem. Right. Rishir. So—you practiced this... astrology thing all night?"
"Yes. Oh, just so you know, astrology isn't swordsmanship—"
"Enough. I spoke out of shock; pay it no mind."
Astrology, of all things.
Ha!
Ronhart shook his head in disbelief.
At this point, he had one thought.
'Wasting time and effort on something like that...!'
Ronhart had no intention of denying Rishir's intellectual curiosity.
Yet he called it a 'waste' because it objectively was.
"Rishir. Forgive my ignorance, but may I ask you something?"
"Ask away."
"This astrology is a branch of sorcery and magic. At advanced levels, it must rely on resonance as well, no?"
"Yes. That's correct."
Ronhart could only chuckle wryly at Rishir's frank answer.
'He knows that and still devotes time to astrology...!'
From an objective view, Rishir's passion for astrology was an unrewarded effort.
What use was mastering astrology, no matter how much practice?
In the end, at advanced levels, he'd hit a wall due to the innate limits of a swordsman, like resonance.
Of course.
Astrology was a rare discipline, so pursuing it held value in itself.
However.
Compared to the value of that mere knowledge against Rishir's swordsmanship talent?
Was it still worthwhile?
'No chance!'
Ronhart could boldly declare it.
Neglecting his sword talent to pour time and effort elsewhere was 'wasteful'.
Any other swordsman in his place would think the same.
'If he could achieve something meaningful in astrology, maybe!'
Rishir claimed he had nearly mastered summoning guardian constellations.
A profound realm within astrology, by Ronhart's reckoning—though he understood none of it.
But one fact was clear.
'What's the point of mastering guardian constellation summons if he can't actually manifest them!'
To Ronhart, Rishir was a man who could etch a monumental stroke in swordsmanship history.
Sacrificing part of that for astrology?
He'd need to reach the pinnacle of respected high sorcerers for it to balance out.
A position even among lifelong sorcerers that only the innately gifted could attain.
"Urgh..."
"Ronhart Gong?"
Thus, Ronhart agonized.
How to convey that 'your best path is focusing on swordsmanship' without offense.
One wrong word, and Rishir might feel deeply insulted.
Objective, rational, for your own good—
No matter how he phrased it, it boiled down to 'stop wasting time on frivolities'.
Moreover.
Rishir wasn't officially his disciple yet.
'I have no right to meddle in this boy's life...'
For a teacher like Ronhart, it was torture.
Watching a young genius like Rishir stray.
'No. This won't do...!'
At the end of his torment, Ronhart resolved himself.
Even if it left a bad impression, he had to guide Rishir to the right path here.
While he was still young.
Make him realize the value of his innate talent.
Pursuing other fields with that sword genius?
Bluntly put, it was sheer prodigality and waste.
"Rishir. I've decided on our first training policy."
"Ah, so that's what you were pondering."
"Yes. Something like that."
Ronhart held practice iron swords in both hands.
He'd planned to spar with them, but that changed.
"Correction."
He said as he set the swords down.
"Correction?"
"Yes. For the next few days, I'll observe your routine and see if there's anything to correct. From a swordsmanship perspective."
"Daily life is part of swordsmanship, an extension of training."
"Exactly!"
Ronhart practically bounced at the ideal response, picture-perfect.
Even his diligent disciples had tired of it sometimes, yet here Rishir grasped his intent and pondered it earnestly.
'Whoever his master was, they raised him perfectly!!! I'm jealous!'
Ronhart inwardly praised Rishir's teacher(?), worthy of utmost respect(?).
"Of course! 'Correction' just means sharing my personal opinion. You're not obligated to follow it."
His disciples would faint seeing this.
The uncompromising Ronhart on guidance taking such a humble stance?
"You'll offer reference points... Very well. Who am I to refuse guidance on life from a great swordsman revered by all?"
"Hearing that puts my mind at ease."
Then—
Rishir glanced around and muttered.
"Shall we start now? Or rather, may I show you? My daily routine."
"Yes! Let's see it."
It was bizarre.
A young man receiving the Prime Swordsman's guidance—
Normally, the youth would be too tense to move properly, but now Ronhart was the nervous one fidgeting his hands.
Why was he trembling like this?
Ronhart chuckled inwardly as he watched Rishir.
"Here."
He led Ronhart to the mansion's backyard, where he usually did morning training.
And showed him the sword at his waist.
"That...!"
Ronhart's eyes widened.
Its extraordinary aura.
No swordsman could mistake it.
"Isn't that a holy sword!? The Holy Sword of Swift Advance! Don't tell me—you've been chosen by a holy sword?"
"Something like that."
"The Holy Sword of Swift Advance, no less!"
Excitement colored Ronhart's tone.
The Holy Sword of Swift Advance was notoriously picky among finicky holy swords, by his knowledge.
'My eye for talent was spot on!'
At the same time, curiosity struck.
'The Holy Sword of Swift Advance is known to directly influence its master's growth.'
The holy sword must have known Rishir was wasting his talent on astrology long before it chose him.
'Yet it let it slide until now?'
This holy sword was famed for wielding its master via its unique aura.
For it to tolerate Rishir's wandering meant he'd persuaded it somehow.
How did he sway such a stubborn holy sword?
As Ronhart's imagination ran wild, Rishir drew the holy sword and took stance.
"First routine. I usually come out at this hour for morning training."
"Every day without fail?"
"I try to, unless something comes up."
"Splendid!"
Ronhart nodded in partial understanding.
Surprisingly, diligence wasn't a given for geniuses.
Geniuses often grew slothful amid favorable circumstances—a common pitfall.
In that light, Rishir's ingrained natural diligence was ideal.
In truth.
If one of his disciples showed such diligence, Ronhart would overlook minor deviations.
"Showing your sincerity to the holy sword every morning must have moved it. Hm. I get it!"
"Pardon? Ah. Well, it's... not quite."
"Hm?"
"I don't practice with the holy sword every day."
"What?"
"Truth is, I rarely use the holy sword in real combat. Normally, I train with my usual sword."
"...?"
Ronhart couldn't follow.
Those words Rishir uttered so casually.
An utter insult from the holy sword's perspective.
Treating it as mere backup.
"Still, I've been asked to train with it as much as possible."
"Asked to train with the holy sword...? An odd request. Who asked you?"
"This guy."
Ronhart looked around.
No sign of Rishir's so-called 'friend'.
"Who do you—"
—Rishir!
Then.
The holy sword cried out.
In profound emotion.
—What's the occasion!!! Picking me for morning training!
Truth be told.
Rishir hadn't planned to train with the holy sword today.
After yesterday's barrier battle, he needed to consolidate those experiences and insights fully.
Yet choosing the holy sword over the blue lotus was due to his promise with Ronhart: no contact with Klana for a week.
"You're so thrilled it almost makes me feel guilty."
—No, sorry! I didn't mean to burden you!
"No, I didn't mean it that way either. Zallak's just so overjoyed it startled me. Guess I've neglected him too much lately."
—Don't worry about it!!! You have your reasons!!! I understand! Just confirming our bond like this occasionally is enough! Feeling that you recognize me as your master—that's all I need!
"Haha... I keep saying, there must be far better masters out there for someone like you."
—I keep saying, please stop!!! You're my only master!!! Now, rare training time! Let's advance! With me, you can use Swift Advance without strain! Right!?
"Huh? Didn't you originally dislike me using Swift Advance on my own?"
—Compromise and acceptance enrich life. Don't they!? Hahaha!!!
Was it his imagination?
Zallak's laughter sounded somehow forlorn to Ronhart.
'What in the world is going on here?'
Was that truly a noble holy sword that chooses its own master?
Not a puppy wagging its tail on a long-awaited walk?
"Ah, sorry, Ronhart Gong. Got carried away chatting. Training starts now."
—Ronhart? Did you say Ronhart just now? That Prime Swordsman Ronhart?
"Oh, Zallak. You know Ronhart Gong?"
—Of course—... Ah. No. Never mind. Not important now! I'll savor—no, focus on training with you! Rishir! Let's go! Swift Advance!
"Whoa. Full of energy."
Rishir smiled wryly and nodded.
'For contingencies, getting used to Zallak's power isn't a bad idea.'
As Zallak said, using Swift Advance burden-free was a huge advantage.
Rishir accepted it readily and took in Zallak's energy.
A euphoric surge swept his body gently, boosting his spirits.
Feeling it, he said to Ronhart,
"As you see, morning training is practicing Swift Advance."
"...I see."
Ronhart, barely accepting the holy sword's odd state, nodded.
"...Hm?"
Then.
Tension creased Ronhart's wrinkled brow.
'He said he usually trains mornings without the holy sword. So how is he using its power...'
"Indeed."
Rishir eyed the holy sword intently.
'With Zallak's help, the burden and fatigue are less.'
His own mastery of Swift Advance had reached a certain level.
Rishir thought considering Zallak's applications going forward wouldn't hurt.
Finishing training, Rishir turned to Ronhart.
"Normally, after training, I wipe off blood, bathe, and sleep. To soothe the fatigue and strain."
"Hm. Focusing straight on rest after training. Good method."
Hm?
Ronhart, nodding along, made a sound.
'Wipe off blood?'
Was there any blood in that training just now?
Since accompanying Rishir, Ronhart suffered bursts of anguish.
Rishir, ignoring him, pondered the next schedule.
"As you see, my condition's good today, so I'll skip rest."
"Hm. If you're pushing because of me, no need—I assure you."
"Of course not. No worries. Anyway, from here it's leisure time of sorts—will you join?"
"Yes."
"Then—"
Afterward.
Rishir visited Palrag's office (remodeled by mansion owner Gus) to check progress on Klana-related matters.
"Oh, Rishir. You're here."
"Hm? Sir Dray? No Lord Palrag?"
"He stepped out briefly for something related."
"Ah... Hope we're not imposing too much."
"Haha. Put that away. After all you've done for us."
Anyway.
Perfect timing.
Dray shifted topics.
He handed Rishir a book and materials.
"Lord Palrag left a request for you."
"For me?"
"Yeah. Related to this. Can you summarize the contents from that magic tome and these docs? He said your spirit friends' help would be a big aid."
"Hold on."
"Hm?"
Then.
Ronhart, watching from the door, interjected.
"Sorry to interrupt, Sir Masti yen."
"Not Lord Torben... Lord Ronhart. Call me Dray; your fame precedes you. A legend transcending eras. An honor to meet its source."
"Kind words. Then, may I accept your courtesy and say something?"
"Please."
Ahem.
Ronhart cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"This seems excessive."
"Pardon?"
"I know Rishir's status is below yours. But this boy is a swordsman."
"..."
"Assigning a swordsman magic-related busywork. Inefficiency has limits. If I may overstep, for efficiency's sake, find someone else suitable?"
"...?"
Dray glanced at Rishir at Ronhart's words.
"Ah."
Understanding dawned; his lips twitched.