Chapter 82
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: Before Rest (1)
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Sion Askal gripped the wooden sword. Soliet watched quietly, her eyes and ears focused entirely on him.
She had to observe not just the sword's movements but even the subtle tremors in his joints and muscles if she wanted to teach him properly.
"Hoo..."
After taking a deep breath, he immediately deployed the sword form. He took the first step and swung the sword.
One, two, three, four, five, six.
Six straight lines etched themselves into the empty air.
"Six?"
Soliet furrowed her brow slightly. The sword tip was straight, and the balance was good, but six strokes right off the bat was too much. Starting out so aggressively would overload the next two steps.
Sion took the second step. At the same time, he slashed five strokes.
"...!"
Soliet's eyes widened slightly. There was no sign of the overload she'd feared. If anything, it flowed as naturally as water.
Next came the final third step.
Sfx─!
The grass was swept away. In just three strides, he'd covered 10 meters, and four sword scars lingered in the moonlight.
Six, five, four.
Fifteen slashes in total, forming the already perfected Lunar Eclipse.
"...Ha."
Soliet closed her eyes. She bit her lower lip. She let out a slightly deep sigh.
This guy is definitely not a beginner.
"How was it?"
Just then, he turned to her with an innocent smile. Soliet scowled.
"...What the hell is this bullshit? You think this is funny?"
"What bullshit?"
"There's no way this is your first time. You think fooling me like that is fun?"
No matter how good his basic understanding and feel for swordsmanship were, no beginner could complete a chain of fifteen strikes on their first try.
"It really is my first time. I just learn fast."
"'Fast' doesn't even begin to cover it. ...Shit."
A curse slipped out at the end.
"What. You even wrote a report on me."
Suddenly, he rummaged through his bag. He pulled out a crumpled swordsmanship report. Soliet flinched in surprise.
It was the report she'd written on Sion Askal's swordsmanship during the first week of Swordsmanship Studies.
"Let me see... Look here. '[Trash-tier swordsmanship not even worth half a star].' And you say this?"
"...Ahem."
She cleared her throat awkwardly.
Admittedly, the swordsmanship she'd seen from Sion Askal back then had no foundation. No system. No sequence. No concepts. Nothing was properly established.
Grabbing whatever looked good here and there, then giving up when it proved too hard once he had it—a patchwork swordsmanship stitched together like that.
In harsh terms, 'trash low-tier swordsmanship'.
"...Fine. Who've you been learning the sword from all this time?"
"My father, and one instructor I know. Name's Dent."
"Never heard of him. Mind if I ask which swordsmanship academy he's from?"
"You think a low-rank knight would have something like that?"
"..."
Soliet was at a loss for words for a moment.
She sank into quiet thought.
If he was truly a beginner.
If he'd been swinging the sword aimlessly on his own until now, and this was his first encounter with any real system or concepts.
"If that's really true."
Soliet lifted her gaze. She looked at Sion Askal standing before her.
He was a bit small for a swordsman, but he already had the knack for handling a blade.
He could unleash steps and absorb sword techniques.
Of course, the world was wide. Talents like his were a dime a dozen, like laundry hanging out to dry.
The Lunar Eclipse itself was a sword form she'd mastered at just four years old.
But he had untapped potential in his 'body'.
A physique that could leap up to 683 cm and punch a monster to death barehanded.
A strong body.
Of course, a strong body was just one component of talent, but for someone as naturally gifted as Sion Askal, it would benefit him in nearly every way.
Above all, swordsmanship could be learned with effort someday, but you couldn't reshape your body properly.
"You have..."
Therefore—
Soliet could say this to Sion Askal.
"...talent."
"?"
He blinked blankly for a moment. Then he let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.
His face said he didn't buy it.
...Swordsmanship.
I'd never even learned it from my father. The only instruction I'd gotten was from Instructor Dent at the orphanage—how to swing it.
A thousand downward strikes. A thousand upward strikes. A thousand body slams into a log. That sort of thing.
He was a dirt-poor lowborn far from any swordsmanship academy, so forms or stances like 'systems' were something I was encountering for the first time in Swordsmanship Studies.
Of course, I'd picked up concepts here and there. I'd wandered so many places, after all.
"You have talent."
That's why Soliet's reaction felt so unfamiliar to me.
"Ever thought about seriously learning swordsmanship?"
Her eyes sparkled. Like someone shucking a clam and finding the pearl inside.
"What, you gonna teach me Arkne swordsmanship?"
"...Hm."
She made a troubled face at the question.
Of course, Arkne swordsmanship wasn't some big secret. Plenty of swordsmen who weren't Arkne used it.
They called it the Arkne style, and the Arkne family even taught it directly. Their 'Arkne Swordsmanship Academy' was already counted among Edsilah's top-tier academies.
Since the most important 'secrets' were passed only to blood kin, there was no need to hide the swordsmanship itself.
"Never mind. Just—"
"One thousand ren."
Soliet suddenly quoted a price. She held up one finger and nodded like she was being generous.
"One thousand ren per session."
I laughed. Ha ha ha.
"No thanks. You must be nuts."
"...What the hell. Don't be ridiculous. There are tons of people who'd pay ten thousand ren. The Arkne Swordsmanship Academy's monthly fee is twenty thousand alone—"
"Then go teach them."
"..."
She was speechless, her tongue clucking. She looked like she might spit out a curse after a pause, but surprisingly, she nodded.
"Once a week, thirty minutes. I'll teach you for free. But on one condition."
She pointed at my neck. Why the neck, of all places? Couldn't she point at my chest?
"You teach me Latynel."
"...Latynel?"
Ah, the throat because it's Latynel.
"Yes."
"I thought you weren't into that stuff."
I was puzzled.
Soliet's common tongue pronunciation alone screamed nobility. That crisp, posh accent came so naturally to her.
Yet she despised refined things. Latynel, balls, polo—all those old-fashioned noble hobbies.
"I have to learn it now, whether I like it or not. The Nightmare's backer is at least a big shot, right?"
Sure enough, similar reasons to mine.
The Nightmare's backer was a heavyweight. Someone who could disguise assassinations as serial killings and clean up without a trace.
To reach them, learning the nobles' language, Latynel, wouldn't hurt.
"Okay, deal. I'll teach you Latynel, you teach me body techniques."
"Good. Sword, what? Body techniques?"
Soliet scrunched her face.
"Are you an idiot? Swordsmanship is worth way more than body techniques."
"Pass on swordsmanship."
The swordsmanship I sought was in the Notebook.
Or more precisely, in my memories.
"I've got someone else to learn from."
Soliet's absolute sword.
The future you will be my swordsmanship teacher.
"..."
Soliet glared at me with a sullen face. Anyone would think she'd been bitten by a mosquito on the lip.
"Now keep teaching me the Three Sword Form."
"You said you don't need swordsmanship. What bullshit is this?"
"No, sword forms and swordsmanship are different."
Memorizing from a textbook was slower than seeing it once. And Soliet made the perfect teaching material for my 'database'.
"Fine, fine. I'll show you once. Sequentially: Linked Form, Five Flower Form."
Soliet took a deep breath and moved her sword.
First, the Linked Form. Continuous strikes without pause—hence the name.
Her steps in deploying the sword form were elegant, her blade path exquisite. It was a posture infused with perfect fundamentals, yet she had something beyond basics. A flash of genius that ordinary people could never attain no matter how long they trained.
A talent shining like a star even in the dark night.
A martial dance swaying to the lake breeze.
"...Whoa."
Soliet Arkne.
You truly are the genius swordsman the world will remember... no.
The genius swordsman the world must remember.
I'm lying on the grass.
I'd pretty much mastered the Three Sword Form. Watching Soliet had converted it straight into Notebook capacity.
[113 / 135]
24-Hour Edits: +3
The Three Sword Form took exactly 3 capacity.
Oddly low, probably because the base already existed.
You know how learning a high-difficulty skill from scratch is hard? But if you build up from the basics step by step, it's surprisingly easy.
In other words, having the 'Five Flower Form' already in my database first meant the Three Sword Form only needed 3 capacity.
"...By the way."
Soliet spoke up suddenly. Like a serious investigative reporter.
"If the Nightmare really is an assassin for hire, like you said."
I turned to look at her. She was squatting on the grass.
"Then, just like Berry O'Tann's death benefited Bella O'Tann, there has to be someone who gains from it."
"...Yeah."
Soliet grabbed a handful of grass with one hand.
"I'll have to investigate."
"You don't need to. I'll do it. Just pay me."
"...Can you handle receipts?"
She asked. I chuckled.
"Don't laugh. I'm serious."
"No way. Receipts? You don't want your family finding out either."
"...Family."
Soliet tore up the grass completely. She tossed it toward the lake and muttered.
"My family treated me like a lunatic. Said I was chasing a dead man. And yeah, they actually locked me up."
"Really?"
"Fucking sucked. Kept shoving pills down my throat. Trash bastards."
"You got out okay."
"Yeah. Pretended to be what they wanted until I did."
The Arkne family wasn't one to mess with lightly.
They were the continent's most historic sword clan. As such, they demanded 'strength' from members more than any other—physical, mental, whatever.
"So, until I met you, even I doubted myself."
Soliet tore up more grass and flung it into the lake. At this rate, the area around her would turn into a wasteland.
"Wondered if I really had paranoia and was forcing myself to chase a dead Nightmare."
I gathered some pebbles and shoved them toward her.
"If I wasn't some psycho hoping the Nightmare was alive."
She picked up a pebble instead of grass and skipped it across the lake. Plop! Plop! Plop!
"...Thanks to you, I'm convinced the Nightmare is truly alive."
Soliet gazed at the moon's reflection in the lake.
"Do I seem stuck in the past?"
Her voice was earnest. A question born of self-reflection.
Compared to her previous life, this was much better, maybe.
I answered curtly.
"You figure it out. Not me."
"...?"
Soliet froze for a second. She stared into space stiffly, then picked up another pebble and skipped it.
Plop- plop- As it skipped away, she asked back.
"...What about you, then?"
"I live in the past."
I answered immediately. Soliet turned to me in surprise.
"Pardon?"
"It's not wrong. If someone irreplaceable dies, you can grieve forever. No one can blame you for that."
I have no future.
For someone without a future, protecting the past is best.
If I can spend my remaining life helping those past connections.
If I can spend my remaining life destroying Libra.
That's all I want.
"...You've lost someone precious too, haven't you."
Soliet nodded to herself.
"Something like that."
That was all I said.
It was true enough, in a way.