Chapter 164
Chapter 164
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 164
Chapter Title: 17. Tales of Others (4)
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# 164
17. Tales of Others (4)
#8 Their Circumstances: The Circumstances of a Certain Old Man
“It hasn’t been long, but we’ve already arrived.”
Sighing as I gazed at the small village in the distance.
I had challenged Melrn to a duel, but he refused. Then, after a sudden demon ambush forced us into battle, I slept to recover from the fatigue and wounds—only to wake up and find everyone gone.
Melrn, Ellis, the cat, and the drake(?). The Hero, the Saint, and the Elf—all had vanished.
Even if I was injured and exhausted from prolonged combat, I’m a Swordmaster.
One who achieved it decades ago, no less—a seasoned expert!
Yet they slipped away so stealthily that even I didn’t notice.
I searched the surroundings just in case, but there wasn’t a single sign of another soul.
And so... I couldn’t even challenge Melrn to a fight. I just let him go.
Wandering aimlessly with a hollow expression of regret, I naturally ended up back home.
Or rather, what was left was just the ashes of my house greeting me.
Every year around this time, the crops Melrn and Ellis had grown would be ripe for harvest. But now, it was nothing but ruins.
No—not quite. In place of the golden wheat fields that had been so beautiful, only black ashes remained.
It felt empty.
A place I’d spent so much time at, yet people, crops, and even the house had vanished all too easily.
The moment I realized that, I knew I had to leave.
And the place I arrived after departing the village: the dwarves’ village.
“You’re back already!”
“Something came up, so I had to return early.”
The first to greet me upon arrival was the elder of the Red Hammer Clan, who had forged the magic sword Jeokun.
“So, how was it? Did you defeat that magic weapon wielder?!”
He looked at me with eyes brimming with anticipation.
“Well...”
I hadn’t kept my promise.
But I had used this magic sword in real combat, and Melrn had wielded that silver magic weapon as well.
So I had to tell them.
Even though we didn’t clash directly, the difference between this magic weapon and that silver one!
In the presence of the Red Hammer Clan elders, I recounted everything that had happened.
They gasped at the sudden demon appearance, buzzed with excitement at the tale of battling them with Jeokun, and sighed deeply as the story wrapped up with meeting the Hero.
“Our magic sword dealt massive damage to those demons.”
“True, but that silver magic weapon subdued them.”
“We lost. We lost to that magic weapon again!”
The three Red Hammer elders sighed in unison.
“Jeokun was incredible.”
“Indeed. But your skills were impressive too.”
“Exactly. A man once called the Sword Saint of his generation.”
“But Hektare, wielder of the silver magic weapon, has no mana yet excels in swordsmanship.”
“Who’s Hektare?”
“That Melrn fellow you mentioned. We call him Hektare.”
“Right. We gave that name to the human who became an honorary dwarf elder.”
“Hektare of the Wicked Hands! He crafts weapons so wicked you don’t want to make him an enemy!”
“But he was impressive, wasn’t he?”
“Very. And that silver magic weapon marks the pinnacle of his work.”
“Damn. It’s a bit disheartening.”
I could only sink into thought as the elders chuckled among themselves.
An honorary dwarf elder? Just what was Melrn’s hidden past?!
And before that—Wicked Hands as a title?!
“What on earth did he do...?”
“He made magic weapons.”
“He made bats.”
“He even made metal bats.”
Even as I listened to the sighing elders, I couldn’t comprehend a word.
I get magic weapons, but what’s a bat? And is a metal bat different from a regular one?
Curious, but my instincts told me it was better not to know. So I quietly listened.
“Still, when he provided ideas for new weapons, it was truly fun.”
“Yeah, he couldn’t forge them himself, but his concepts for new weapons were brilliant.”
“Creating something new brings immense joy to us dwarves.”
“Thanks to those public safety weapons, other villages are safer now.”
“And he rescued our kin taken as slaves. Rare for a human.”
“Right, right. He even dreamed up something unimaginable like a bat.”
“......”
“......”
“......”
The word “bat” hung in the air like a magic incantation, silencing the elders once more.
“Here... I’ll return this.”
In the room frozen for a good five minutes, I held out Jeokun.
“I couldn’t keep my promise. I’m sorry.”
The elders stared blankly at me as I bowed my head.
“Indeed. Since you didn’t uphold the promise, you’re not worthy of this sword.”
“Exactly, no doubt about it!”
“A dwarf’s promise is sacred!”
After staring at me for a long while, the elders spoke in the same tone as before.
“So we’ll take Jeokun back into our clan.”
“Understood.”
It was a shame to lose such a sword, but I hadn’t kept my end of the bargain.
No regrets, then.
“Alright. We’ve reclaimed the sword—mind staying here a bit?”
“Oh ho... Seems you’re thinking the same thing.”
“Hey now, I’m the one who met this human first, aren’t I?”
Having taken back the sword, the elders left me in the room and headed out with Jeokun.
They told me to wait a moment—and returned ten days later.
“Here, take this.”
“This one too.”
“Ah, don’t think I came empty-handed. It’s forged with the combined efforts of all our clan.”
Ten days after arriving in the village, following the other dwarves’ words.
When I finally saw them again, they looked exhausted but wore faces full of pride.
“This one’s name is Mua.”
“This sword’s called Jincheon.”
“Take these swords and keep challenging new heights.”
“Elders...”
In that moment, I felt something welling up inside me.
Seeing the ashes of my old home had felt like everything was gone.
But now, that empty space was filled—not just filled, but overflowing with something more.
“Khahaha! As promised, we take Jeokun back!”
“But you must accept these new swords!”
“And let the world know that our Red Hammer Clan surpasses the Black Anvil Clan!”
“Ah, but isn’t a metal bat overkill?”
“......”
“......”
“......”
“Khahahahaha!”
As the word “bat” fell, laughter echoed through the once-silent room.
#9 Their Circumstances: The Circumstances of the Current Sword Saint
“Thank you, noona!”
“Sure thing~”
Waving goodbye to the beaming young man as I stepped out of the shop.
After turning a few corners and confirming no one was around.
“Haa...”
I let out a massive sigh.
“The water’s no good...”
Muttering the slang only pros would get, I walked on.
The evil organization Howling had collapsed.
But the fallout was far worse than imagined.
It was one of the great achievements backed by the current Emperor and led by the Crown Prince.
Yet, shockingly many had lost something precious because of it.
Myself included.
The host club I frequented went under.
It was one of the empire’s top-tier spots.
I tried other places, but none could fill the void in my heart.
And some were downright sleazy!
A proper establishment is classy—chatting with cute, fun girls for pure enjoyment!
Sleazy ones just feel dirty!
No matter how cute the girl, you can’t help thinking midway, “She’s probably done all sorts of stuff...”
Why couldn’t the pro host club owners adopt Howling’s upscale strategy?!
Are they slacking off?
The empire’s best club shut down—step up and fill the gap!
Opportunity! I poured enough money there to buy a few territories!
Meeting the top 1% required auction quals—how hard I worked for that!
Rich girls swarmed like bees, betting Sword Saint duels for entry fees?
I worked my ass off earning to go there!
And I wasn’t the only member!
Far from it!
There were plenty of rich girls even I lost auctions to.
They’re all looking for places to spend—I’m begging you, make a good club!
“Should I just start one myself?”
Annoying, but tour the nation, gather talent, build the ideal club, and run it in the empire...
“Ugh... Where’s the fun in that...”
The thrill comes from those anonymous encounters.
If I owned it, that magic would be gone.
Sighing again, I left the village.
I’d heard rumors of a decent club in a nearby earldom—time to check it out.
If this flops too, I’m serious enough to scour other kingdoms!
“Hm?”
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine.
Since becoming Sword Saint, fewer than ten people had given me this feeling.
The Emperor, the Imperial Princess, that weird weapon owner from Howling, and a few challengers I beat.
All shared something in common—except the weird weapon guy.
“A Swordmaster at the peak of maturity...”
People call Swordmasters the pinnacle of the sword, but you only realize upon reaching it.
You’ve grasped the sword, but your journey’s far from over!
When you internalize it fully, you’ve hit Swordmaster maturity.
Such Swordmasters are rare.
Average age to become one: early thirties.
That’s us geniuses pulling it forward; normals hit it near forty.
Though Swordmasters aren’t normal to begin with.
Anyway, in this country with plenty of Swordmasters, those at maturity number fewer than ten.
Excluding the hidden monsters.
“Come on out.”
I deliberately moved to an isolated spot and called out.
Likely a challenger targeting me—the most famous, accessible mature Sword Saint.
Normally, I wouldn’t fight without a fee, but after today’s massive disappointment, I needed to vent.
So, let’s enjoy this free stress relief to the fullest.
“Worthy of the current Sword Saint.”
“Huh?”
But the figure emerging from the trees was familiar.
Face like an ordinary old man, but a perfect warrior’s build.
Two massive greatswords strapped to his back suited him, yet didn’t match my memory.
“No way... Steon Del Rebeiteon, is that you?!”
I quietly uttered my predecessor’s name.
The one whose overwhelming mana nearly defeated me.
If he’d used a normal steel sword instead of a branch, I might’ve lost—the former Sword Saint.
“That’s me.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve come to reclaim the Sword Saint title?”
He shook his head.
“No. I’m just here... to inform you.”
Inform me? Of what?
A legend in our generation’s fame.
Was I the sacrificial offering for his comeback announcement?
Eyeing the former Sword Saint suspiciously, he calmly drew his two greatswords and showed them to me.
“Mua and Jincheon, from the Red Hammer Clan. Impressive, right?”
“Dwarf-forged swords?!”
Who was it that called swords extravagant and carried branches?
For him to wield not just any swords, but dwarven ones!
Dangerous! This is insanely dangerous!
Losing the Sword Saint title at my age would leave me a spinster for real, old timer!
“So, be my sparring partner to test these swords.”
“N-No, right now’s a bit... Hup!”
Ignoring my refusal—or perhaps cutting it off—he charged, and I blocked the former Sword Saint’s strike.
Or so I thought—blood trickled from my cheek.
“The sword... vanished. And this sensation?!”
The sword in one hand had disappeared.
The other felt noticeably faster than its appearance suggested.
“Gah! These aren’t normal swords!”
Dodging with a scream, the Sword Saint swung with a kindly smile.
“Magic weapons.”
He declared!