Chapter 20
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Origin, Kaisen Alter Aradamanthel (3)
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“I trust many of the cadets here are already aware of the terror of the Uruk.”
Though he had lost his sight, his hearing was perfectly fine, so Kaisen participated in the theoretical training. When he wore his glasses, the world opened up to him, albeit blurry, which was a small mercy.
“The Uruk are a demonic race that once resided in the central region of the southern Adrion continent. As volcanic ash floods the world and warms it, their sphere of activity is expanding northward.”
The FakeWarriors' education wasn't limited to swordsmanship and combat training in the Hanging Gardens.
The Abyss.
There were also classes where they sat in a classroom and learned in-depth about its servants, the demonic races that no one dared approach.
“Besides them, other races belonging to the Six Great Demonic Races are also beginning to set foot on the continent, one by one. Bloodfiends, Nagas, Trolls, Necrons, and Demons.”
“...!”
“However, what you all must learn today are not these Six Great Demonic Races, but enemies far greater.”
On the handout distributed by Rahel Dune Jeraye, five types of nightmares that seemed to have sprung from a madman's imagination were writhing.
Their appearances were truly bizarre.
The first one, for instance, had a body similar to a human's, but its chilling face and tail resembled those of a lizard.
“In the ancient tongue, Holschbez; in the modern tongue, Reptilian. It means lizard-man. They are an ancient race that has lived since the Age of the Abyss, minions of the 'Wailing Ruin,' and they reproduce in the polar deserts.”
“...!”
“They appear in the height of summer, turning the world into a wasteland. Even the cruelty of the Uruk is cute compared to these bastards.”
As Rahel nodded, a mage dispatched from the Imperial Magic Alliance stepped forward and cast an illusion spell.
It was an illusion of a Reptilian.
The translucent figure walking on the platform gradually blurred until, a moment later, only a shimmering heat haze could be seen wavering along its path of movement.
“The warrior class of the Holschbez uses this kind of camouflage. It's a technique you must be especially wary of on the battlefield.”
Kaisen’s eyes narrowed.
If the Uruk relied on overwhelming power in combat, did these things use cunning methods?
“Next to the Holschbez are creatures called Rutlwe. It would be easiest to understand them as fish-men. They are the minions of the 'Old Ruler of the Sea' and are the biggest headache for the navy. They're beyond comparison to the Nagas.”
Looking at the nightmare that was the Rutlwe, a primal nausea surged within him.
It was human.
Yes, at a glance, it looked human.
But it blinked with the eyes of a fish, its large gills gaped open and shut by its ears, and its hands and feet were webbed.
“What's frightening about them is their ability to move freely in the water. When summer comes and the seas warm, you can assume it's because of them that the navy's supply routes are cut off.”
“...!”
“They favor places with high humidity, so they appear along with the monsoon front. That's the difference between them and the Holschbez.”
Rahel's lessons always focused on the tactical peculiarities and combat methods of these three races. He rarely explained the other two.
“Next to them is the Tan-Tullak. In the modern tongue, they are called Necrachne, or spider-people. And the last one depicted is the Andalos. The hounds that serve the Lord of Time.”
“Are you saying they aren't dangerous?”
“No, they are dangerous. But because the Spider Lord and the Lord of Time were subjugated by the Dragon Sage Rein Ludwick and the Apostle of the Void, Arzen, respectively, they didn't even appear during the 'Black Summer'.”
As for the maggot-people called Kinwe, the answer was that they only appeared on the Idea Peninsula, the land of the fairies, because the Insect Lord was sealed there.
“Besides the information I've given you, there are countless aberrant types that exhibit peculiar behaviors. And it's quite common for demonic races previously unknown to humanity to appear.”
“...?”
“Now, this is the core point. What you must learn from this class is not information about the demonic races.”
“Then what is it?”
“It's the expansion of your thinking. Knowledge is like a mathematical formula; the more you know, the more usefully you can apply it to various situations with changing variables.”
Rahel's classes sometimes turned academic. His goal was to instill in the cadets the mindset of a FakeWarrior.
“A FakeWarrior must be perfect. FakeWarriors never die; they merely go missing. Even if they are fakes, that is what a Warrior must be. Never forget that your very existence is humanity's morale.”
“...!”
“This is why I repeatedly explain about the demonic races during time that could be better spent on martial training. A Warrior must not die for the pathetic reason of lacking information.”
After the theoretical lessons, he returned to his dormitory. Since there was no swordsmanship class, he couldn't go to the Hanging Gardens; this was the only place he could be.
When left alone, the existence of the deep hole in his chest felt even larger.
The hole that had been pierced the day his family died grew larger and wider the day the White Skeleton Corps was annihilated.
There wasn't a day without a headache, but he had grown so used to living with it that it was more or less bearable.
But this hole in his heart—the corpses strewn everywhere that day, the screams, the stillness, the silence...
Whenever he recalled the siege of Aristapo, a breathlessness that felt like his lungs would burst washed over him.
To be able to forget it all.
To not think of it, even for a moment.
If only he could swing his sword to his heart's content.
It was when he was gasping in a pain so intense he could barely breathe that 'she' came.
“What's causing you so much pain?”
Even her voice carried a mysterious fragrance, so he immediately knew she was standing by the window where the curtains fluttered.
“You are...”
“Tarsiyo. Have you already forgotten me?”
“The instructor told me to forget you. And not to tell anyone.”
“Hm? Ah, you should. I'm a secret weapon of the Papal Office, you see. So forget that I came today, too.”
At those words, a corner of his heart throbbed.
The Papal Office's ultimate weapon... he wondered if that egg had been delivered safely.
“Why are you here?”
“I kept thinking about something I couldn't say last time. About the name Kaisen... by any chance, is this how you write it in the Dragon Language?”
“I don't know how to read the Dragon Language. And I can't see.”
“It means 'fate,' right?”
“Yes... how did you know?”
Kaisen was stunned.
Tarsiyo continued in a surprised and excited voice.
“My name is the same! My mother gave it to me, and it means 'fate' in the language of creation. Your name has the same meaning, but it's in the Dragon Language.”
“My mother gave me my name, too.”
“How fascinating! Our names have the same meaning, and our mothers gave them to us. Don't you think you and I meeting like this is fate?”
Tarsiyo laughed brightly.
Tarsiyo laughed without covering her mouth. She closed her eyes gently and laughed with pure joy.
He didn't know why.
Back then, he didn't even understand the reason.
Why just hearing her laughter was enough to wash away the clotted darkness in his heart.
After that, Tarsiyo would occasionally visit, choosing times when the instructor was away. At some point, she started appearing with a small book tucked under her arm.
“*The Dragon and the Wizard's Travelogue*. They say that during the era when Rein Ludwick traveled the world, people called it the Silver Age. It means the peace that followed the Golden Age.”
“What's so interesting about some tedious record of another person's travels?”
“I've never been outside. I don't know what the world looks like. So maybe that's why it's interesting.”
“Not even once in your entire life?”
“Not even once. That's why I'm going to go on a journey, too.”
“A journey? To where?”
The world was already covered in skeletons.
It was a world where children buried their dead parents in the ground, and parents buried their dead children in their hearts and wept.
In this world of dried-up rivers and crumbling earth, where on earth could she possibly go on a journey?
“Where else?”
Despite such a world.
You, back then, smiled shyly like a girl showing off a treasured secret and said:
“To the world I'm going to restore.”
“What?”
“Kaisen, why do you think FakeWarriors are called FakeWarriors?”
“...?”
“It's not because of their abilities, but because they ultimately fail to end this nightmare. And because they make themselves the protagonists of a tragedy.”
Dazzling, he thought.
Was it because the sun, which had been hiding behind the clouds, revealed its face, pouring sunlight through the window? Or was her smile emitting a light of its own?
His vision was lost, so he couldn't see clearly, but there was definitely a light so bright he had to shield his eyes with his hand.
“I have no intention of becoming like that. I'm going to become an AuthenticWarrior. The protagonist of dreams and hope.”
An AuthenticWarrior.
Kaisen couldn't keep up with Tarsiyo's dream. Wasn't it a dream as illusory as the morning sea fog?
AuthenticWarrior, literally meaning a true Warrior.
Her dream was to be a true Warrior? But a true Warrior hadn't appeared even once since the age of myths.
'Is she serious?'
How could she say something like that so matter-of-factly? She didn't even seem to be that different in age from me.
“Why the long face? Afraid I'll go alone? Want to come with me, then?”
In that moment, something brushed painfully through his mind amid the quiet summer breeze.
- Try putting down things like swords and go on a journey.
Was it his master's last words? Or was it her final command?
Perhaps she was speaking to him now.
Telling him to answer that call? To follow a girl he'd met less than ten times?
“Hm? Hm?”
Unable to read Kaisen's mind, Tarsiyo drew her face close and tilted her head.
As the scent of flowers tickled his nose, he suppressed the sorrow surging from deep within his chest.
Then, he grabbed Tarsiyo's shoulders, pushed her gently away, and answered the call in a small voice.
“If such an opportunity ever comes.”
Though his words were laced with cynical sarcasm, Tarsiyo raised her pinky finger and smiled brightly.
“Really? Then it's a promise.”
As if she had just received the most beautiful treasure in the world.
As if that gift resided there, she cradled her pinky finger preciously with her other hand.
And then, just as she had arrived, she vanished without a sound, as if melting into the breeze.
After Tarsiyo left, he stared for a long time at the empty space she had occupied with his blurry vision.
'A journey, my ass.'
Restore an era like this?
Become a true Warrior?
A dream-like day like that will never come.
His cold reason, at the center of his brain, certainly thought so.
But perhaps.
You had a smile that made one think that maybe, just maybe, such a day could really come.
Wasn't that smile a spring smile that reminded him of his mother?
Wasn't it the smile his master, Camilla, had worn at the very end?
Wasn't it a smile so poignant with longing that it brought tears to his eyes?
'A smile whose value I only realized after losing everything...'
Why did he feel that those three people were so similar?
All three had different personalities, voices, and faces.
Perhaps it was from that moment he began to smell the tragedy that had been thickly laid from the very beginning of their connection.
***
Tarsiyo continued to visit after that.
The books she brought to read aloud changed often, but Kaisen's favorite was a heroic epic called *Raminea of the Crimson Lotus*.
He liked it.
Listening to his mother's tales of valor felt as if he were walking with her in a dream...
And when he tried to sleep while hugging the book Tarsiyo had left behind, he would remember the times he fell asleep nestled in his mother's arms...
He would shed endless tears when he was alone.
Those tears were a longing akin to a daydream, so when he woke, he would be seized by a deep sorrow, as if released from a spell.
“Raminea took the illegitimate daughter of the Velchester family as her disciple, and her name was Camilla.”
His favorite part was from when his mother took in Camilla, who had been scorned by her family, as her disciple.
He would ask her to read that part again and again, and Tarsiyo would happily oblige.
That time was truly a happy one, a time when he could find peace of mind, just like when his mother read him fairy tales as a child.
But Tarsiyo's visits were truly 'occasional.' Each time she appeared after a long absence, the number of bandages wrapped around her body had increased.
Tarsiyo seemed unwilling to speak of the reason, so he didn't press her.
In any case, most of his daily life consisted of the Dragon Spirit Stone infusion process and theoretical lessons, but they were always met with failure.
Now, even his hearing was starting to fade, but the Dragon Spirit Stone infusion wasn't that mentally taxing.
What tormented him mentally was someone else.
“Hmph... I knew it. There's no way a mere man could become a FakeWarrior.”
Arin. It was Arin Perry.
A FakeWarrior cadet, the young lady of the Perry family and a rising star of the Muryeong Sword Sect.
She had been relentlessly taunting him ever since he failed to pull the sword from the stone.
It seemed the inferiority complex stemming from being driven away by Camilla in the past was being directed at Kaisen.
Her true intention was to quickly eliminate Kaisen, the biggest obstacle to her claiming the holy sword of the hero Raminea, Aradamanthel.
“If you failed the physical enhancement and ended up with a disability, I wish you'd just get lost already. What in the world are you still doing here?”
Kaisen had always ignored Arin, but that day was different.
Arin had crossed a line she shouldn't have.
Of course, it was the girl's shallow ploy.
“Did you know? Lately, rumors have been circulating, questioning if you're really Lady Camilla's disciple.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Well, isn't it strange? It's impossible for a FakeWarrior to take a male disciple, yet she ignored all the other female swordswomen and took you, a man, under her wing.”
It felt as if all the blood vessels in his body were hardening. He tried to ignore her as usual, but he couldn't even grasp what she was implying.
“So the rumor going around is... that perhaps Lady Camilla broke the rules.”
In that instant, the blood flowing through his veins froze cold, and he stopped dead in his tracks.
It was a feeling he had experienced before.
It must have been exactly like this during his first meeting with Camilla, when she asked what had happened to his mother.
“Honestly, how lonely must she have been? Hmm, yes, she lived only on the battlefield... there must have been handsome men, charming men, right?”
As if pleased by Kaisen's reaction, Arin continued her cynical remarks.
“Was it Johan Wolf Frost? There was also that illegitimate son of the Grand Duchy of Duren. Wouldn't a battlefield tent be the perfect stage for two people to share their love?”
Camilla was a flower that bloomed on the battlefield and withered on the battlefield. There was not a single stain on her petals.
Except for the fact that she had taken in Kaisen, her master's son.
Johan, too, was Kaisen's benefactor.
Knowing their mission, Johan loved Camilla, but he never revealed his feelings to a third party.
And also knowing their mission, Camilla did not accept Wolf's feelings. Their love was noble, yet sorrowful.
“As a fellow woman, I understand. As long as you don't give them your love, it's fine to embrace any man, isn't it? That must have been what she thought.”
Who.
Who among the humans living and enjoying peace in this city of the Divine Dragon.
Could dare to insult their lives?
No one.
Absolutely no one.
As a cold fury raged in his mind, only a single echo resounded like a drum in Kaisen's heart.
“And then, by mistake, she ended up giving birth to someone like you. With no time to get rid of it—”
It was instantaneous.
Raminea's sword, which had been firmly secured with hemp cord due to the blade-sealing order, was drawn, spitting out a blue glint of steel.
*Snap.* As the hemp cord broke powerlessly, the speed of the draw was nothing short of divine.
“I am Kaisen, disciple of Camilla Alter Aradamanthel.”
The tip of that blade was aimed right at her forehead before Arin Perry even realized a sword was pointed at her.
“Arin Perry, I'm going to kill you. If you don't want to die defenseless, draw your sword!”